These days, the only stimulant that passes my lips is caffeine.  And a mug or three of java from my steampunk style coffee pot can provide quite the jolt.  Not something for every day, for sure.  But, from time to time, that’s an indulgence I enjoy. The natural buzz of a decent mug of quality coffee is something to look forward to.

Contrast that with the feverish buzz that comes from knocking back cans of Red Bull or any of the other tins boasting the presence of taurine in the ingredients list.  Taurine itself, I’m told, is neither here nor there: merely part of the marketing of what is in essence a dose of concentrated sugared-up caffeine strong enough to propel a greyhound round a racetrack at maximum velocity in pursuit of a mechanised rabbit.

All of which is by way of explaining the distinction between the first and second films in the Crank franchise.  The first I find ennervating, hilarious, delirious in its creation of an insane world for Jason Statham to rule.  The second, Crank: High Voltage, takes the same basic formula and reduces it to a means of getting Nuts readers to high five the cinema screen.

Way back when, Deadline magazine introduced Tank Girl to its readers, many of whom would perhaps have not minded a touch more Nuts about the publication.  But this was back in the days of Red Wedge, so there was a degree of political po-facedness about the proceedings.  And that was probably a good thing.  Tank Girl was a pin-up character for male and female readers alike, a feisty heroine who combined perky breasts with a crewcut variant, the look rounded out by Dr Martens boots and a potty mouth.

Like Tank Girl, Crank doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but is hugely enjoyable for people who enjoy the medium just as much as the message.  There’s an anarchic spirit to Jason Statham’s character that similarly animated Tank Girl: both are in the spirit of Bugs Bunny, indestructible tricksters who can get away with all kinds of mayhem and destruction because they embody a certain kind of knowing innocence.

For the first chunk of Crank: High Voltage it looks like directors and writers Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor have succeeded in bringing their not very intellectual property into a second story intact.  But then there’s a nude shot which looks like it emerged from one of Tony Scott’s fantasies, and that’s the first of many times we get to see naked women in the film for no particular reason.

Now, it might seem churlish to complain about the presence of bare flesh, one of life’s finer pleasures, but in Crank: High Voltage it serves the function of taurine, ie a supposed stimulant that’s really a distraction from the overall experience.  And that’s a shame.  In many other respects, the film is as enjoyable as its predecessor.  Words like madcap could be employed, and for sure it’s a fun ride a lot of the time.  But some of the choices left a bad taste in my mouth, such as the depiction of the Chinese prostitute who declares that Chev Chelios (Statham) is the man for her and won’t let him go.

Crank was never going to be subtle fare, and noone is suggesting it should be.  There’s a place for energising nonsense, decent quality trash, and in that respect the first Crank was a Pot Noodle of a film.  Not a film to watch with your inlaws, but good for a night with friends.  This time round, the creators have tried to second guess us, and just as the ad agency who came up with the strapline ‘the slag of all snacks’ for Pot Noodle seemed to be mystified that people might find that concept offensive, Crank: High Voltage takes what was good about the first film and manages to make it just that bit unappetising second time round.