To be absolutely, brutally honest, when I saw the ad for this in the theater, I scoffed a mighty scoff and almost verbally announced my predetermined hatred for what I was sure would be a horrible shaky camera-fest interspersed with sex, guns, and violence to cheapen the thrills and draw in the lowest-common-denominator audience, ripped directly from some race fan’s Death Race 2000/Mad Max crossover fantasy.
Suffice it to say, I was tremendously surprised when I liked this movie. No- scratch that- I loved this movie, the same way that I loved Death Proof and Planet Terror for their kitsch value and fun-loving nature. Death Race was to me, like a friend that you don’t spend too much time with because of his dangerous behavior and habits, but is loads of fun to be around in the few times you share together for exactly that selfsame reason. I was quite amazed at the production quality of this movie, considering the quick cuts that are a necessity during high-speed race shots; with everything that can go wrong in a shot, there’s simply not enough time to do a long take. Each grind, hit, and bullet fired was filmed with impeccable timing, generating a fantastic sense of frantic pacing, while also giving you just enough time to admire the gorgeous drifts and swerves around tight corners; the weaving cars performing their twisted metal ballet of destruction.
There was one element in particular that pulled me in within an instant: the in-road power- ups, like something taken right out of “Carmageddon” or “Burnout” (video games). These were introduced early in the movie, and so they didn’t take precedent as a primary plot device, but they added such a “spice of life” kind of variety to the race that for a moment, the kiddie gamer inside of me was (metaphorically) holding the TV with both hands, eyes glued to the screen out of sheer amazement for the art I beheld. It’s an understatement for me to say that I always thought there were a lot of racing video games that would have made incredible real-world sports (despite technical problems, eg. physics), and this tangible connection between the film and a distant fantasy of mine had me enthralled.
As for the cars? They’re fantastic. Whoever did the model work for these beast really put their heart into it. Every one of them looks exactly the way you’d expect such a vehicle to look: like a gladiator on wheels. Armor plates, reinforced windshields, rams, and chain-guns all came together to make a rolling war machine, complete with every prerequisite dent, bump, and bullet-hole. While a point of criticism for some, I felt that the film’s grey-brown color treatment accentuated the details of the vehicles marvelously, and made them seem just all that much more grittier and deadly. To have been standing in front of the real-world cars they made for the film, listening to their engines revving, would be downright intimidating, and that same feeling comes through the screen full-force as you watch these metal monsters prepare to do battle in an ever-moving, ever-changing coliseum.
As for the writing, I can only really make one note to the viewers, and especially some of the reviewers. Stop taking yourself so seriously. This movie is meant to be fun. It’s meant to take you into a NASCAR Monster Truck rally of the future, and you’re supposed to feel the same thrills that anybody at such an event would feel. Bring your cooler cap. This isn’t the kind of movie to view with pencil and notepad in hand, jotting down all your quirks and complaints regarding the shallow characters and their stereotypical archetypes. Turn down the lights, crank up the amplifier, and let yourself be blown away in a fury of flying metal and blood.
In short: the characters have the depth of a puddle, the cars are ferocious, the action is gripping and frenetic, and the movie’s generalist, somewhat predictable ending means that it’ll still be fun to watch the second time, and the third after that.
Also, be sure to pay attention to the disclaimer/warning after the movie’s over. Good for a chuckle that it’s on a film (very rare), but they mean it. Let Jason Statham do the death- driving.
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