So, yesterday was xXx, which naturally means that today’s review is of The Transporter.  It makes a certain kind of sense, since they were certainly compared at the time, and Loaded described The Transporter as “The film xXx wishes it was”.  Which sounds like a right sausage-fest: lads mag comparing Vin Diesel and Jason Statham’s hot new releases (as of 2002).  So, what exactly is on offer here, and what does comparison with xXx tell us?

Where xXx is fundamentally an attempt to reinvent James Bond for people who drink Pepsi Max and know what a level boss is and how to take one down, The Transporter makes no particular assumptions of its viewers, other than that they enjoy a good bit of action.  The story is almost a fairy tale: Statham plays Frank, a man defined by his ability to drive a car extraordinarily well, and who wants no complication in his life.  He lives in a place that’s straight out of a fairy tale in fact, and things go well for him until he breaks one of his own rules and investigates one of the packages that he’s been paid to transport for some bad guys.  It contains a beautiful young Chinese woman, a princess in storybook terms, the daughter of an evil crime boss/bad king.

It’s all presented with remarkable simplicity.  Perhaps I should say clarity.  And it’s done with elegant visual storytelling, immaculate photography and crisp edits: it really does look the business, perhaps no surprise given Luc Besson’s involvement (co-writing and co-producing), though the director is Cory Yuen.  That finesse follows throughout, and gives the film a rhythm and sheen that’s much more enticing than xXx’s, which is more straightforward by comparison — and that’s the film that positions itself as cutting edge.

The mythic elements of The Transporter are notable.  A stoic hero, and a princess, caught up in a plot that her father is significantly involved with.  Along the way, lots of extravagantly choreographed fights which demonstrate Statham’s prowess with fists, feet, and guns.  Each fight sequence offers something the last one didn’t, whether it’s Statham removing his jumper to not only reveal his torso but strangle bad guys with his knitwear; ice-rink slippiness when oil is spilled over the floor and our Jason’s cunning means he’s the only fighter standing; or a fight in the close confines of a bus where the hero deals with a bunch of mooks through gymnastics using the architecture of the bus interior.  This is virtuoso stuff, and Statham is clearly highly trained to be able to perform his stunts, where Vin Diesel is more reliant on fast edits and explosions to look impressive.

Another mythic aspect is the destruction of Statham’s lovely home.  The dwelling itself symbolises the life that the character Frank has created for himself, and that life is in jeapordy.  Specifically, it gets demolished by a bunch of missiles whizzing in its direction, sent by bad guys in reprisal for Frank breaking his own rule.  So, the rules of his existence don’t work: they constrain the truer version of Frank that’s waiting to be awakened through an experience of rebirth.  It’s the rubric for the Tarot card The Tower, all about the death of the false personality and the chance for starting again.  Sound over the top?  That’s exactly what happens when his home is trashed and Frank and the princess escape underwater (symbolism alert, in case you thought I was joking about rebirth).  By the time they surface, Frank cares about her and that creates a whole new outlook for him, complete with problems in the form of a psychotic father-in-law and the decidedly violent crew he hangs out with.

Bottom line?  xXx is a heap of fun, but really it’s just a sneaky way of getting Korn fans to watch action films without sneering.  The Transporter is a more satisfying experience, tapping as it does into mythic elements that enrich the narrative but don’t get in the way of some awesome car chases and fabulous fight scenes.  It’s quality fromage where xXx is pure cheese.