Check your dictionary for the word “laconic,” and you’ll find a photo of Jason Statham.
He has perfected the role of Hard-Bitten Loner, a guy whose penetrating, steely eyed gaze invariably is accompanied by a scowl that (and only Statham can pull this off) forever seems on the verge of softening into a thin, mocking smile.
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| Fleeing both local police and a stop-at-nothing assassin, Mason (Jason Statham) and Jesse (Bodhi Rae Breathnach) scramble to find a working vehicle, as a means of escape. |
But not immediately. Things begin quietly.
Mason (Statham) lives an isolated existence on a tiny, rocky lighthouse island off Scotland’s Outer Hebrides. His only companion is a soft-eyed dog with no name. Mason passes the time by gazing out to sea from the top of his lighthouse, playing chess against himself, consuming constant meals of porridge … and often drinking himself to sleep.
Supplies are delivered, on a regular basis, by a similarly grizzled fellow (Michael Shaeffer) who brings his small fishing vessel as close as possible; he then sends his niece, Jesse (Bodhi Rae Breathnach), to shore in a rowboat. This ritual apparently has been unchanged for a long time; she drops off a crate filled with provisions, collects the now-empty previous crate, and returns to her uncle.
This time, however, she impulsively leaves a small, gift-wrapped package atop the newly delivered crate.
It remains unopened, when she returns the next time. She confronts Mason; he closes the door in her face.
Alas, she doesn’t make it back to her uncle’s boat this time. The sea has turned rough, thanks to an approaching storm; Mason watches, in horror, as both boats are swallowed by waves. He manages to rescue Jesse, but her uncle drowns. She’s injured, with a badly sprained ankle.
Jesse tearfully reveals that her uncle was her sole family; she has lost everything. As the next few days pass, Mason — despite himself — cannot maintain his gruff reserve.
Meanwhile…
In London, MI6 head Stefen Manafort (Bill Nighy) is grilled by an oversight committee, regarding his deployment of an all-encompassing AI surveillance network — Total Human Engagement Analytics, or THEA — which scoops up data from every possible source: the ubiquitous street cameras, car cameras, smart phones and anything else in the “connectivity of everything.”
Manafort blandly assures the committee chair that THEA has allowed MI6 to enhance the elimination of potential terrorist activity; she sternly counters that surreptitiously harvesting the data of every British citizen is, well, illegal. (He clearly couldn’t care less.)
Back on the island, Jesse’s swollen ankle has become infected. Mason, by now invested in her well-being, risks a quick trip to a mainland village, in order to collect some medical supplies … and is spotted by THEA’s infiltration of a passerby’s cell phone.
After which, all hell breaks loose.
Now on the run, determined to protect Jesse, Mason is pursued by MI6 operatives, various local police departments, and a ruthless and psychotic “Black Kite” assassin — Bryan Vigier, as the aptly named Workman — ordered by Manafort to kill them both.
But why? What’s going on?
Parry’s twisty script eventually provides all answers, and the wiliest touch is the nasty bit of identity-swapping that galvanizes MI6 folks — ostensibly the good guys, aside from Manafort — into quick action (an unsettling bit of hacking legerdemain that definitely could happen in our real world).
Statham always is fun to watch, and his performance goes deeper here, thanks to the quietly touching rapport he shares with Breathnach (a captivating young English/Irish actress also currently present in Hamnet). Jesse humanizes Mason, forcing him to retrieve the decency and moral imperatives that have long been buried.
Breathnach also is wholly credible as an initially frightened and despondent girl who steps up — bravely, if reluctantly — as the situation demands. Jesse’s expression, when Mason entrusts her with an assault rifle, is priceless.
Nighy, so charming and cuddly in countless other films, is equally compelling here as a chill, Machiavellian bastard. Manafort is not one to trifle with, and his hold over the flat-out scary Workman is absolute.
Harriet Walter pops up for a brief — but telling — scene as Prime Minister Fordham, who regards Manafort as one of her strongest assets. Daniel Mays, who seems to be everywhere these days, has a key supporting role as Mason’s long-ago friend and colleague, Arthur Booth. (Mays also will be recognized as Inspector Chubb, in the TV miniseries adaptations of Anthony Horowitz’s Magpie Murders and Moonflower Murders.)
Naomi Ackie persuasively plays Roberta Frost, who has replaced Manafort as head of MI6. Ackie is solid as a resourceful spy chief who gradually begins to suspect that Things Aren’t What They Seem.
Production designer Tim Blake establishes wholly credible settings, from Mason’s lighthouse sanctuary — with its spartan, but cozy living quarters — to the MI6 control room and various Scottish and British locales. And although Parry’s increasingly twisty narrative gets a bit overcooked — with references to international terrorists, human traffickers and more — such details deftly function as a framework on which to hang numerous pell-mell action sequences.
My one serious complaint: David Buckley’s obnoxious synth score is ubiquitous, intrusive, distracting and too damn loud.
At 58, Jason Statham may not have all the moves he displayed back in 2002’s The Transporter, but he’s still a commanding presence, wholly credible in this film’s rough-and-tumble skirmishes.
Next up: a sequel to 2024’s The Beekeeper. Count me in!
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