| Review:
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A cautionary indictment as much about the destructive
direction society is headed these days as what's happening
with movies, Death Race spouts foreboding prophesies about
the future that could already be closing in on us. Director
Paul W.S. Anderson (Resident Evil) updates Roger Corman's
1975 homo sapien roadkill romp, Death Race 2000, but now
humans are less gullible exploited participants in their
own demise, than rabid accomplices to giddy post-modern
celebratory online snuff.***
And while subversive shlockmeister Corman's 1975 original
was a kind of cultural collateral damage crafted as blowback
from the Vietnam War, Death Race relocates to a vast 2015
industrial wasteland, where the economy is into radical
free fall. And even the greedy corporations overseeing privatized
prisons are experiencing diminishing returns, despite warehousing
millions as they do (nearly 2 1/2 million and increasing
by one thousand a week in the here and now) in capitalist
captivity.***
And grasping at alternative means to heap continuing
escalating profits, one such detention complex ruled over
by dreaded, deceptively prim, icy dragon lady, Warden Hennessey
(Joan Allen) has embarked on a high body count, high money
return series of gladatorial car races to the death, with
the last inmate standing to be rewarded with an early prison
release. Well, maybe.***
But running out of capable, expendable humans to steer
these high attrition rate fatal crashes for a bloodthirsty
but easily bored online subscriber public, the penitentiary
conspires to kidnap unemployed, former professional racer
Jensen (Jason Statham) in a more than elaborate scheme,
by framing him for a murder that lands him in the slammer.
And while the cons are set against one another, the better
for the authorities to control and exploit all of them,
as likewise devastatingly depicted in Felon, a rebellious
solidarity emerges. Including an inhouse low-testosterone,
high IQ techie geek squad presided over by Coach (Ian McShane),
and as fairy god felons of sorts, protecting Jensen along
the way.***
But social commentary touching on the connection of
greed and war, and character conflict along with sexed up
female con backseat drivers, is thin pretext for the incessant,
at times visually surreal but mostly oppressive heavy metal
havoc orgy of war machine, napalm shooting designer macho-mobile
boy toy vehicular homicide. Rendering this ride strictly
for speedway spectator junkies to begin with, and love of
the sport a must. Though with the irony of Hollywood reaping
the profits of ever more creative movie murder to delight
those easily bored viewers, who gets the last laugh may
not even be in question.***
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