Two men run desperately from angry natives in the jungle. One of them, Raymond (Henriksen), kills the other and takes a giant gem they have presumably stolen. Back home, Raymond hides the priceless jewel without telling his boss, Elise Marlowe (Adams), who bankrolled the expedition. It turns that he’s a real piece of work – an ego maniac who cheats on his wife, Laura (Eilbacher), whom he treats like crap – all of which Lance Henriksen plays with icy gusto.

As a result, there is little love lost when he’s killed off only 11 minutes into the film by someone looking for the gem. Naturally, the guy turns up at Raymond’s funeral figuring that Laura knows where the jewel is hidden. Jeff Kirkwood (Railsback), Raymond’s partner shows up (wasn’t he supposed to be dead?) having survived their trip to the jungle. Poor Laura is being hassled by a gun-toting priest who is teamed up with a nun in full garb and is also being followed by another armed couple (one of whom is played Fred Williamson). Naturally, they all want the gem and are willing to kill for it, including each other when they happen to cross paths. The film settles into a predictable groove of people breaking into Laura’s house looking for the gem and terrorizing her – spin, repeat, yawn.

I’ve always felt that Lisa Eilbacher deserved a better career instead of starring in forgettable dreck like Deadly Intent. She was so good in Beverly Hills Cop (1984), but failed to capitalize on the success of that film. She’s pretty good in this one. By virtue of being married to a piece of crap like Raymond, Laura becomes instantly sympathetic but it also doesn’t hurt that she’s played by Eilbacher who exudes empathy. Deadly Intent is a frustrating example of a wasted opportunity. All of these solid character actors wasted in a ho-hum film like this one. I wouldn’t even recommend this to hardcore fans of Lance Henriksen as he’s barely in it. Its pedestrian plotting and screenplay resemble nothing more than an average T.V. show.

Special Features:

None.

Lauren (Amick) is a beautiful young woman who has recently married Paul Harrington (Lithgow), an older rich man. With the help of his eccentric cellmate (Edson), Reno Adams (Roberts) busts out of prison (disguised as guards no less) and seeks out Lauren, his wife and former partner in crime. Before you know it, Lauren finds herself in way over her head as Reno forces her to rob the bank Paul manages. Several plot twists and double-crosses ensue in typical neo-noir fashion.

John Lithgow is well-cast as the nice guy patsy caught under his new wife’s bewitching spell. Fresh from her breakout role in the television show Twin Peaks, Madchen Amick plays the leggy femme fatale with a knack for leading men astray. Cult character actor Richard Edson even has a small but memorable role as a hayseed idiot savant who broke out of prison with Reno. But the film belongs to Eric Roberts who absolutely oozes menace as the vengeful escaped convict. He has the juiciest role and enjoys sinking his teeth into it. As he demonstrated early on in his career with his chilling turn in Star 80 (1983), the actor excels at playing amoral sociopaths and he essays another one in Love, Cheat & Steal. Only a few minutes in and Reno has already escaped from prison, killed two guards and had sex with some guy’s girlfriend. Roberts is clearly having a blast with the stock bad guy role, even quoting Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining (1980) at one point, and instilling it with his own unique brand of crazy swagger and charisma.

This kind of film is a parlor game as it keeps us guessing as to what everyone’s true motive is, who is going to double-cross who, and that it will revolve around the planning and execution of a crime – in this case, a bank heist. In a film like Love, Cheat & Steal, everybody has their own agenda, the true nature of which is only revealed during the climactic scene. This is a decent enough neo-noir but is missing that special something to distinguish it from so many others, with the notable exception of Roberts’ scheming career criminal.

Special Features:

Theatrical trailer.

Carlos is presented in three, feature-length episodes that track his rise to power and notoriety; the man at the peak of his powers and his greatest triumph; and his inevitable decline and capture. Early on, Assayas establishes his take on Carlos (Ramirez), presenting him as a vain man who, at one point, is seen admiring his own naked body in a mirror to the strains of “Dreams Never End” by New Order. We also see him espouse his personal philosophy, that true glory is “doing one’s duty in silence. Behind every bullet we fire, there will be an idea because we act in harmony in our conscience.” And initially, he seems to adhere to this but once he becomes a superstar among international terrorists, he embraces and cultivates his inflated reputation.

In the first episode, Assayas shows Carlos’ clumsy attempts to impress Wadie Haddad (Kaabour), co-founder of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP), with a bungled assassination and a failed bombing. This segment builds towards an intense showdown between French domestic intelligence agents and Carlos at one of his girlfriends’ apartment in Paris where we see just how dangerous he is when cornered. The second episode starts off literally with a bang as Carlos and his group arrives at the OPEC headquarters in Vienna and takes oil ministers from all over the world hostage in 1975. This was his highest profile operation done at the height of his powers.

By the end of the second episode, Carlos has been kicked out of the PFLP and he starts up his own terrorist organization, effectively becoming a mercenary. The third episode tracks his inevitable decline as he wages a war of terror on France in the early to mid-‘80s after they arrest his wife and a close associate. It’s costly battle for both sides but more so for Carlos who can no longer rely on his reputation to get jobs or find safe haven in countries that used to be sympathetic towards him. He becomes more vulnerable to attacks because he has more to lose, chief among them a family.

Edgar Ramirez’s magnetic presence really comes across early on as he exudes the cocky confidence of the man and conveys his complete commitment to the cause he espouses so brazenly. The actor has Carlo’s terrorist swagger down cold, showing us the smooth ladies man with his perfectly coifed looks and stylish attire. Known prior to Carlos mostly for his strong supporting turn in Tony Scott’s Domino (2005), he finally gets to be front and center, playing the role of a lifetime: a larger than life historical figure in a sprawling epic. Assayas and Ramirez’s fascinating take on Carlos is that he viewed himself as a kind of rock star, a charismatic personality who clearly saw himself as someone of importance, destined to do great things. This is evident in the way Carlos idolized and emulated Che Guevara during the OPEC raid, sporting the iconic revolutionary’s trademark beret and scruffy facial hair look as if making a statement. Also, the rock star analogy is further explored in the use of post-punk music along with the third episode, which could be seen as Carlos’ “fat Elvis” period of decline. Ramirez commands every scene he’s in, especially the OPEC raid where he prowls around rooms and hallways, expertly orchestrating this attack in order to get what he wants.

In an intriguing break from tradition, Assayas eschews a traditional orchestral score for source music, predominately post-punk rock. The opening track is “Loveless Love” by the Feelies, which sets the tone of the film. As the song builds so does the tension of the scene it play over – that of Carlos attempting to assassinate a pro-Israeli businessman in England. Assayas also uses a few tracks by Wire, one by A Certain Ratio and a memorable action sequence scored to “Sonic Reducer” by the Dead Boys. The attention to period detail and architecture is also excellent as Assayas takes us on a perverse travelogue through Europe and the Middle East with Carlos as our guide.

With its color-coded sequences and its objective direction that is slick and confident, Carlos resembles Traffic (2000) and Syriana (2005). These films are all ambitious and expansive in scope as they expertly blend personal politics with bigger political movements. Carlos is a towering achievement, a fascinating study of a man who was a reflection of the times in which he lived in and is embodied by Ramirez’s powerful performance spanning several decades. Assayas’ film is very relevant to our times as it examines the complex machinations of international terrorism with the agendas of terrorist groups clashing with that of the governments of countries all over the world. Carlos sees the struggle of the oppressed against imperialist regimes as a war that he helps fight. With the end of the Cold War, he is marginalized and considered a relic from a bygone era. Assayas has crafted an incredible film that is smartly written, well-acted and masterfully directed.

Special Features:

The first disc includes a theatrical trailer.

The second disc starts off with “Shooting the OPEC Sequence,” a 22-minute featurette examining how Olivier Assayas shot Carlos and his team’s raid on the OPEC headquarters on December 21, 1975. The director offers his thoughts on what he hoped to achieve with the film over footage of the cast and crew working on location. This extra provides some insight into his working methods.

There is an interview with Denis Lenoir, one of the film’s two cinematographers. He shot the second half of Carlos and talks about his approach towards the job. He didn’t prepare much for the film because he came in halfway through and goes into some of the technical aspects (i.e. film stock, lighting, etc.). Lenoir also talks about how Assayas works.

Lenoir also provides a selected-scene commentary, going into detail about the technical aspects of six scenes from the film. For example, he mentions the kinds of lenses he used, the lighting scheme and whether he used hand-held cameras or not.

The third disc features a 43-minute interview with director Olivier Assayas. He gives his take on Carlos and the times that shaped the man. The filmmaker talks about his intentions for the film. He admits that it did not originate with him because he would’ve considered too complicated a task to undertake and was actually approached to direct. Assayas talks about growing up during Carlos’ heyday and also about making the film itself.

There is also a 20-minute interview with actor Edgar Ramirez. He was drawn to the film because it dealt with the mechanics of terrorism and politics. The actor speaks eloquently about his take on Carlos and how the OPEC raid defined him. Ramirez also speaks about how he prepared for the role, including all kinds of research he conducted as well as gaining and then losing weight for the various periods of Carlos’ life.

The fourth and last disc starts off with “Carlos: Terrorist without Borders,” an hour-long documentary that aired on French television in 1997. It fleshes out many of the events depicted in the film and provides some background into Carlos’ politics as well as his rise to prominence. The doc mixes compelling news footage (including actual footage of Carlos) with talking head soundbites to paint a fascinating portrait of the man.

Also included is a 1995 interview with Hans-Joachim Klein, the German left-wing militant that was conducted by Daniel Laconte who went on to help produce Carlos. Most interesting, Klein wears a disguise and talks about how he must lie on a daily basis lest he be discovered by those who want to get him. At times, he comes across as more than a little eccentric.

Finally, there is “Maison de France,” an 88-minute documentary about the 1983 bombing of the Maison de France in West Berlin that was orchestrated by Johannes Weinrich for Carlos. It puts the incident in context with the political climate at the time. There is pretty gripping news footage of the bombing and the location is revisited in recent years to see how it has changed.

Al Hickey (Cosby) and Frank Boggs (Culp) are two downtrodden private investigators coasting through life until they are hired to find a missing woman. Hickey’s first lead ends with a dead body, killed by the woman who is also linked to an armed robbery, which is of interest to local mobster Mr. Brill (Mandan) and his right-hand man Ballard (Moriarty). As the film progresses, we learn more about the missing woman and her motivation, which propels the narrative and also adds a tragic dimension to the story. Hickey and Boggs start off not caring about anything but as their case progresses it becomes personal and they have something to fight for even if it is only revenge, which can only end in a bloody confrontation.

Walter Hill’s stripped-down screenplay gives us brief glimpses into Hickey and Boggs’ private lives. Hickey is estranged from his wife and kid while Boggs is an alcoholic who enjoys the company of prostitutes. Hill has always adhered to the less is more school of thought and Culp seems to understand this, complimenting the lean script with no-nonsense direction. Culp employs Hill’s trademark economy of style so well that Hickey & Boggs could be Hill’s long lost film. Yet, Culp still employs nice, little touches, like how Boggs always puts a paper bag that reads, “Out of Order” over every parking meter he leaves their car in front of.

For people that only know Bill Cosby as his cute and cuddly curmudgeonly dad in the 1980’s sitcom The Cosby Show, they will be in for quite a surprise with his turn in Hickey & Boggs as an all-business detective. He is especially effective in the last third of the film when his character takes a decidedly darker turn for the worse. Robert Culp is his ideal foil. Obviously, they had cultivated excellent chemistry with I Spy and this continues with Hickey & Boggs. They epitomize the world-weary private investigator but with a cynical ‘70s spin. These guys aren’t particularly noble – they have a job to get done and that’s it.

One of the hallmarks of a lot of crime films done in the ‘70s is the casting of actors that actually look and act like tough guys. Just think of the criminals that populate The Friends of Eddie Coyle (1973) or The Outfit (1973). Hickey & Boggs is no different with the trio of thugs that repeatedly cross paths with our two protagonists. They really look like guys that could mess you up without a moment’s hesitation. They exude natural menace, which enhances all of the scenes they’re in. Look close and you’ll spot character actors Vincent Gardenia, Michael Moriarty and a young, very geeky looking James Woods in key roles.

Hickey & Boggs is one of the more underrated detective films of the ‘70s but it deserves to be mentioned among the best of that era along with the likes of The Long Goodbye (1973) and Night Moves (1975). Much like those films, it takes the private investigator archetype and tears it down in a way that reflects how jaded and cynical people had become during that decade. For some time the film was hard to obtain on home video and then eventually surfaced on DVD with a horrible transfer. In recent years, a beautiful copy has shown up on MGM’s HD Channel and has now finally been released via their MOD DVD program with the same exquisite transfer. Do yourself a favor and check out this under-appreciated gem of a film.

Special Features:

None.

Frank Daly (Dennehy) is the leader of a tight-knit group of Los Angeles police officers as evident from the game of touch football they play together during their off hours. He is the elder statesman and is clearly getting too old for this shit, judging by how he falls asleep while taking a bath after the game. This group is so close that they even party together with their families, which offers a glimpse of Brian Dennehy’s hilariously awful dance moves. Wayne Gross (Pantoliano) is the abrasive one, Ricky Rodriguez (Fahey) is the good-looking one with a moral conscience (which gradually disappears once they all go rogue), and Howard Jones (Paxton) is the jokester.

At work, Frank orchestrates large drug busts that no one else is willing to touch. One night, he and his crew go after a drug operation run by Anthony Reece and that is hidden under a meat packing company front. However, they go in without a warrant or back-up much to the chagrin of their boss Captain Joe Torres (Darrow) who is tired of their screwball antics. Not surprisingly, Frank and his crew are suspended. Of course, they defy this and go after Reece, which, predictably ends badly for one of them. Now it’s personal with Frank and his guys making it their mission in life to take Reece down at all costs. So, they all quit and become vigilantes, robbing crooks to fund their own personal vendetta against Reece.

Much like To Live and Die in L.A. (1985), The Last of the Finest opts for an offbeat depiction of the city, avoiding the usual, traditional landmarks we’ve seen a million times before for a more authentic portrayal of the sections where these guys live and work while still showcasing the distinctive flavor of the town.

The Last of the Finest’s screenplay resembles an average T.V. cop show with very little characterization, cliché dialogue and plot turns you can see coming a mile away. And yet, at times the script does a nice job of capturing how these cops act and speak around each other, especially a close crew like these guys. The solid cast of actors does their best to make it work. It doesn’t hurt to have the likes of Brian Dennehy, Joe Pantoliano, Jeff Fahey, and Bill Paxton as a contemporary version of the Untouchables, a group of incorruptible cops that get the job done. Mackenzie provides workman-like direction right out of T.V. but fortunately the cinematography elevates it. At the end of the day, this film has its heart in the right place but is a little too generic in parts for its own good. It is saved from being merely direct to home video fare by the impressive cast who go a long way to making it watchable.

Special Features:

Theatrical trailer.

During the fifth race at a horse track several incidents occur, which are seemingly unrelated to the casual observer but, of course, are all part of a masterful plan as conveyed by the knowing looks between a number of men. Johnny Clay (Hayden) is the de facto mastermind of the job and a savvy crook who understands the odds: “Anytime you take a chance you better be sure the rewards are worth the risk because they can put you away just as fast for a $10 heist as a million dollar job.” He plans to take his cut and fly off with his girlfriend and childhood sweetheart Fay (Gray).

Kubrick skips around chronologically to introduce all the significant players in the drama: bartender Mike O’Reilly; track cashier George Peatty (Cook) and his shrewish wife Sherry (Windsor); as well as her lover Val (Edwards); gambler Marvin Unger (Flippen); with two hired hoods – sniper Nikki Arcane (Carey) and brawler Maurice Oboukhoff. Like most heist films, everyone has their own agenda and nobody can be trusted. Kubrick establishes these characters, shows their roles in the job and their respective fates in its aftermath.

The Killing features an impressive cast with the likes of Sterling Hayden, a veteran of these kinds of films (see The Asphalt Jungle) and ideally-suited as the no-nonsense leader. Idiosyncratic character actor Timothy Carey has a small but memorable role as a grimacing sharpshooter, but it is Elisha Cook and Marie Windsor who steal the show as a deeply dysfunctional couple. She is a two-timing schemer who has her husband wrapped around her finger (or so she thinks) while he’s the proverbial doormat, ignorant of his wife’s duplicitous ways. Some of the film’s best scenes feature their rocky relationship – one that can only end badly.

Like most film noirs, The Killing chronicles the inevitable countdown to the doomed finale for all involved. We know it’s coming, we just don’t know how and one of the perverse thrills is watching as everything goes horribly wrong. An early film in his career, Kubrick already demonstrated a masterful touch as he orchestrates a meticulously plotted heist film with the confident hand of a seasoned maestro. He also shows his knack for observing human behavior – in this case that of the criminal mind as he illustrates how a carefully planned job is ruined by greed and jealousy.

Special Features:

On the first disc is an interview with producer James B. Harris who talks about working with Stanley Kubrick and, of course, The Killing. Harris recounts how he met the director and the genesis of this film. He gives a nicely detailed account of several aspects of the production and his contributions.

Also included are excerpts from a 1984 interview with actor Sterling Hayden for French television. He talks about working in Hollywood and with Kubrick. Quite the colorful character, Hayden is refreshingly candid about his experiences making films.

“Polito on Thompson” features Robert Polito, author of Savage Art: A Biography of Jim Thompson, talking about the legendary writer’s relationship with Kubrick and the problems he encountered while working in Hollywood. Kubrick was a great admirer of Thompson’s books, especially his knack for writing dialogue, and wanted to utilize this strength in The Killing. Polito recounts how the two men met and their collaboration on this film.

There is a theatrical trailer.

The second disc starts off with a fantastic extra for Kubrick fans – a newly re-mastered transfer of Killer’s Kiss (1955), a low budget film noir the director made prior to The Killing. Shot on the streets of New York City, it concerns a small-time boxer by the name of Davey Gordon (Jamie Smith) who is past his prime. He becomes romantically involved with his neighbor and dancer Gloria Price (Irene Kane) while also getting mixed up with her violent boss Vincent Rapallo (Frank Silvera). Kubrick’s background in documentaries is evident in the way he shoots every day life in New York. The city is almost a character unto itself and the film serves as a fascinating snapshot of a metropolis that no longer exists.

Film critic Geoffrey O’Brien talks about Killer’s Kiss. He compares it to a student film in the sense that it was done for very little money, was an opportunity for the young Kubrick to experiment, and demonstrates his promise as an aspiring filmmaker. He points out that there is a loose, almost improvisational quality that would be less evident in later films as Kubrick became a more skillful director.

Finally, there is a theatrical trailer.

On the run after a failed robbery, two gangsters – an American named Richard a.k.a. “Dickie” (Stander) and an Irishman by the name of Albie (MacGowran) – are battered and hungry. Their getaway car has broken down in the middle of nowhere and Albie has been shot in the gut while Dickie’s arm is in a sling. The latter decides to go looking for a phone and stumbles across an isolated medieval castle. Dickie hides out in a barn leaving his wounded accomplice in their car.

A dysfunctional couple lives in the castle. George (Pleasence) is an irritable fellow and his wife Teresa (Dorleac) is a bit of a flirty flake. They have an odd relationship to say the least. At one point, she gets him in one of her dresses and applies some of her makeup on him as a prelude to a little role-playing. This is interrupted by Dickie who has broken into their home to look for food and use their phone. The burly, surly crook takes control of the situation by making them help him retrieve Albie.

Cul-de-sac features some fantastic, moody black and white cinematography courtesy of Gilbert Taylor. For example, there is a shot of Dickie, George and Teresa in silhouette as they walk through tall grass at dusk looking for Albie. There is also the incredible use of shadows, like when Dickie sneaks around the castle before making his presence known to its owners. At times, this expressive cinematography evokes film noir and sometimes that of the horror genre.

Polanski makes the most of the isolated setting, pitting the two crooks against the George and Teresa only to throw in unexpected plot twists, like the arrival of unexpected guests. Cul-de-sac is a darkly comic battle of wills as George and Teresa’s eccentricities confound Dickie. The character-driven film is a fantastic showcase for its cast, from the gravelly-voice Lionel Stander to the twitchy Donald Pleasence, and the fun is watching such vividly drawn characters bounce off each other in a confined space. In the true Polanski fashion, they irritate and manipulate each other for their own selfish reasons. Brach and Polanski certainly have a bleak view of humanity – a vision they would revisit again over the years with Frantic (1988) and Bitter Moon (1992), which also featured a kinky couple with “issues.” However, it is Polanski’s absurdist humor that runs throughout Cul-de-sac, preventing the bleak worldview from overwhelming the film.

Special Features:

“Two Gangsters and an Island” is a retrospective featurette made in 2003 about the making of Cul-de-sac. Polanski says that his goal was to make a film that reflected his tastes in cinema. The director talks about the casting, finding the right location with little time to do so, shooting in a small village, working with the some difficult actors like Stander and his health problems, and so on. The key participants tell some excellent filming anecdotes on this solid extra.

“The Nomad” is a 1967 BBC interview with Polanski where he talks about Poland and his career up to that point. He talks about growing up and surviving World War II. The director also talks about how he got interested in cinema and how that evolved into a career as a filmmaker. This interview features some intriguing insights into the man and his career.

Finally there are two theatrical trailers.

The film takes a gritty look at Toronto’s criminal underworld where girls come over from Russia and are forced to become strippers and prostitutes. These girls are threatened, bulled and stripped of their humanity – not the most uplifting subject matter. The beautiful Karma infiltrates a Russian owned strip club as, what else, an exotic dancer, which allows Bechard to show off her considerable assets. Karma uses her sexy looks to work her way through the organization, systematically killing those responsible for her sister’s murder.

The decision to make Karma a mute avenger is certainly one way to get around Shera Bechard’s limitations as an actress but certainly isn’t an original idea as Abel Ferrara’s gritty revenge film Ms. 45 (1981) already played around with this concept. Sweet Karma basically fuses Ferrara’s film with Eastern Promises. For a first time actress, Bechard is not too bad. She certainly has a screen presence and can emote when required. In a nice touch, Karma doesn’t suddenly become an unrealistic killing machine in the action sequences. They are messy and realistic with a kinetic rhythm that comes from hand-held camerawork. The cheap digital camerawork also adds to the scuzzy vibe of the film. In addition, the cast of completely unknown actors enhances the film’s low rent authenticity.

Sweet Karma doesn’t end in a redemptive bloodbath that it seems to be heading towards but rather ends on a surprisingly contemplative (sort of) note, which is kind of refreshing.

Special Features:

Theatrical trailer.

The opening credits play over footage of murky water in an unused swimming pool. It is a key location that will be important later on and also acts as a metaphor for the nature of the film – characters with questionable motives and where nothing is what it seems. Boarding school teacher Christina Delassalle (Clouzot) is married to Michel (Meurisse), the cruel headmaster who, when he’s not belittling his wife, is mean to the students. She is friends with her husband’s mistress and fellow teacher Nicole Horner (Signoret), a lady so cool she wears her sunglasses at night. Michel is a real piece of work – he married Christina for her money. She resolves herself to a life of mental and physical abuse.

The two women take off for the weekend and Nicole uses it as an opportunity to convince the meek Christina to call her husband and tell him she’s leaving him. Naturally, this doesn’t go over well with him and he heads out there to meet them. Nicole has had enough and with Christina they plan Michel’s demise. But of course things don’t go entirely as planned and Clouzot introduces all kinds of ingenious plot twists that keep us guessing as to what will happen next.

The three lead actors are excellent – Vera Clouzot as the mousy wife, Simone Signoret as the cool, calculated mistress, and Paul Meurisse as the sadistic husband. It’s fascinating to watch their characters bounce off each other in this taut, psychological thriller. With Diabolique, Clouzot meticulously crafted a claustrophobic thriller that exposed some of the worst aspects of humanity. It demonstrates that there is no such thing as the perfect murder because things like emotion and bad judgment get in the way. The bottom line is if you’re going to kill someone you have to really go for it and cover your tracks so that no one can trace it back to you.

Special Features:

“Serge Bromberg Introduction” features the film preservationist and historian talking about Clouzot and giving us a brief overview of his career, which he does to put Diabolique in context. Bromberg touches upon the film’s literary origins while also analyzing its look and themes.

There is a selected-scene commentary by French film scholar Kelley Conway. She analyzes specific scenes and dissects their meaning. She touches upon his life and career and how they relate to the film. Conway speaks eloquently and knowledgably about Diabolique.

Film critic Kim Newman talks about how Diabolique influenced films like Psycho. He cites it as being the first film built around a twist ending and calls it a “conspiracy story.” He analyzes the meticulous structure of the plot and how this harkens back to mystery novels.

Finally, there is a theatrical trailer.

The film’s prologue introduces us to Statham’s character – Arthur Bishop, a hitman who kills his targets and makes their deaths look like accidents – with the kind no-nonsense efficiency we’ve come to expect from his films. When he’s not killing guys, Arthur listens to classical music and has sex with his favorite prostitute in New Orleans. His employer (Goldwyn) hires him to kill his mentor (Sutherland) for botching a job but it all seems a little too convenient. After Arthur kills him, he crosses paths with the man’s ne’er-do-well son Steve (Foster) who thinks that his father was killed by carjackers (that’s how Arthur made it look). Understandably upset and lacking any direction in life, Steve asks Arthur to teach him all he knows and, wracked with guilt, Arthur grudgingly agrees.

Not surprisingly, Steve’s inexperience hinders him initially. In a rather brutal sequence, he stupidly tries to take out a target utilizing his own rough-around-the-edges technique instead of the way Arthur instructed and he barely survives the bloody and brutal fight. The Mechanic builds to a predictable conflict between Arthur and his employer as the latter ends up betraying the former – much carnage ensues.

Jason Statham can do this kind of role in his sleep and plugs along gamely with the same kind of grim determination he instills in all of his characters while Ben Foster almost invests too much in his role, grunging himself down as the unlikable apprentice to Statham’s ruthless assassin. It’s like the filmmakers took Steve from a much better film and plugged him into this one. Foster gives Steve a surprisingly amount of emotional depth and complexity. He single-handedly makes The Mechanic worth watching whenever he’s on-screen.

The filmmakers enjoy rubbing our faces a little too much in this ugly world where all the targets are disgusting human beings – pedophiles, religious zealots and drug dealers – so that we don’t feel bad when they are killed in brutally awful ways. The one prominent female character’s (if you can call her that) sole purpose in the film is to service Arthur sexually. Lewis John Carlino and Richard Wenk’s screenplay, while lean and mean, leaves too many loose ends and unanswered questions, chief among them Steve’s true motivations. However, in this case, the ambiguity surprisingly works and feels more authentic instead of spelling it all out, but I think this is due more to Foster’s performance than the script itself. In its own brutally efficient way, The Mechanic delivers all the requisite action you would expect along with Simon West’s stylish direction.

Special Features:

There are five deleted and extended scenes. Included is slightly more action in the film’s prologue, which was unnecessary and rightly excised. There is also more of Arthur and his mentor meeting in a diner, which fleshes out their relationship more but also spells things out a little too much.

Finally, there is “Tools of the Trade: Inside the Action,” a making of featurette. Statham says he was drawn to the smart script. We see footage of the action star performing his own stunts, including jumping off a 35 floor building! Not to be outdone, Foster did it as well, despite his fear of heights. We also see him do his big fight scene with an injured shoulder. It is good to see that no CGI was involved in the film’s impressively staged stunts.