Whether you appreciate the bald, hard-hitting stylings of Jason Statham or not, you have to admit that he’s certainly etched his name into the mighty oak that is action cinema. In fact, you could argue that he’s the only name left in the game that resembles the classic, 80s example of nose shattering heroism the way it used to be. In fact, it’s probably why the dude can keep making films, because when you break most of them down, a surprising amount of them prove to strangely pointless.
Think about it. Shatham’s never had the equivalent of a Terminator, Rambo, or Rocky – he’s never scored a generational, solo film like Predator, or even appeared in something as ridiculously memorable as Cobra or Commando; the closest he’s got is the mildly fun Transporter series and a prominent role in the Sylvester Stallone led Expendables films. Making my point even further is 2013 actioner, Homefront, an entry into the Stath cannon that no one seems to have ever mentioned in the years since, despite it featuring a surprisingly impressive cast all slumming as the whitest of trash.
DEA agent Phil Broker sees an extended stint undercover in a biker gang devolve into chaos when the sting on meth dealer Danny T goes impressively bad. After managing to successfully subdue both the big boss and Jojo, his unpredictable son, disaster strikes when the jumpy cops drill Danny’s son with a lot of bullets after he tries to make a move. Incurring the lifelong wrath of pissed-off drug barron is never a good thing, so as a result he retires with his daughter, Maddy, to Rayville, Louisiana to live the quiet life.
However, their life doesn’t remain quiet for long when Maddy responds to a spot of school bullying by breaking the offending kid’s nose. Unfortunately, the offending kid is the son of Cassie Bodine, a drug addicted loud mouth who tries to get even with the Brokers by siccing her husband on them with predictable results (Phil effortlessly fucks him up in front of an audience). However, unwilling to let this grudge rest, Cassie next calls on her brother, local crime boss and proud owner of a prolific meth lab, “Gator” Bodine, who agrees to sort things out. But after his goons are left eating dirt thanks to Phil’s ability to whup all of the ass, he steps up his game by taking a different track.
Digging into Broker’s past and discovering the still festering grudge that lingers within the incarcerated Danny T, Gator makes a deal that he’ll offer up Phil’s location in order for greater distribution of his drug product. However, neither Gator or his girlfriend Sheryl have anticipated Danny sending crazed killer, Cyrus, in to finish the job and as matters get rapidly out of control, Gator gets ever more obsessed as he witnesses his modest crime empire go up in smoke. And as for Phil? Can all the snapped femurs and crunched noses he’s wracking up manage to save his little girl from mortal danger?
While Homefront may be one of the most forgettable action movie experiences I’ve experienced in quite a while, a quick glance at its cast and crew list reveals that there’s quite a surprising list of talent involved. For a start, Statham’s old Expendables mucker, Sylvester Stallone, is responsible for the script that uses almost every single trope from every “don’t mess with my family” dad-thriller you’ve ever seen, and direction duties are handled by Gary Fleder who delivered a string of late-90s/early-00s thrillers that included the excellent Things To Do In Denver When You’re Dead and other, more workman like white knucklers such as Kiss The Girls, Don’t Say A Word and The Runaway Jury. However, it’s possibly the cast list that proves to be the most intriguing as it contains a laundry list of names you wouldn’t expect to see standing opposite to one of the Stath’s trademark scowls.
Maybe the likes of Kate Bosworth isn’t classed as a huge actress anymore (if she ever was), but to give credit where it’s due, she did once portray Lois Lane in a mega-budgeted Superman movie – but regardless of what criteria you’d use to judge star power, it still feels weird to see her playing a constantly tweaking hillbilly who yells all of her lines and impressively looks like shit through all of her screen time. However, if the sight of Bosworth looking all “skanked up” is surprising, wait until you see Winona Ryder before her Stranger Things renaissance as a drawling biker chick who looks just as bewildered as we are that she’s there. But while mid-budget, supporting actor veterans Clancy Brown and Frank Grillo seem right at home as various road blocks to Statham’s efforts, the biggest shock here is that the villain of the piece is played by none other than James Franco. Sometimes when you when you surround a thespian who doesn’t get the same respect as actors who don’t list roundhouse kicks on their list of abilities, the cast manages to elevate them, but thanks to a rather hamfisted script by Stallone, it actually feels more like everyone else has been brought down to the Stath’s level as neither Stallone or Fleder seem particularly bothered to equip their movie with plot threads that actually decide to go anywhere.
For example, why would you serve up a potential plot thread that suggests that Clancy Brown’s police chief is in league with Gator, only to do literally nothing with it? Why is Ryder’s constantly panicking biker ho allowed to disrupt the villain’s plan arguably even more than Statham by simple fact that she’s makes endless, incredibly dumb decisions? Is Stallone trying to make some sort of “realistic” statement by making his antagonists weirdly ineffectual? I have no idea, but while it’s still fun to watch our hero dismantle his foes in slickly edited beat-downs, it’s tough to feel any tension when it seems that an inebriated gecko could easily outwit these drug runners, let alone an indestructible DEA agent.
In fact, there’s a feeling that Homefront may have started life as a bit less serious and lost most of the jokes in the final edit. After all, how else can you explain away Franco’s entire performance in which he seems to be actively (and very smugly) taking the piss – but haters of the controversial actor my find that the climactic scene where the Stath pounds him into jelly is like looking into the face of God.
While I’ve happily supported Jason Statham in his many endeavors (yes, even when he sports some amusingly luxurious locks in the prologue), surely a film with such potential in every part of its inferstructure should be far more memorable than this. However, Homefront sole selling point proves to be how many times it can get you to utter “wait, they’re in this?” before the opening credits end – hint: a lot.
Statham is admittedly in fatherly, stoic form, but the fact that the entirety of the cast seem to be acting in a completely different movie to him proves to be more distracting than fun. One primarily for Stath completists, only the most devoted fan of “How far Would You Go To Protect Your Family?” movies will feel at home(front) here.
🌟🌟
We Have Issues 