Punisher: War Zone
Dir: Lexi Alexander
Rating: 3.0
Lionsgate
107 minutes
Fact: there have been three movies about the Punisher. While this seems baffling to the average moviegoer and pretentious snob alike, the Punisher is a beloved comic book character. Part of the reason is that he’s different from his relatively noble Marvel Comics brethren: they let the bad guys live, he shoots them. While this is “special” in the comics, it’s business as usual in movies — no surprise, considering he was created as a reaction to Death Wish. Adaptation has thus proven a struggle for a character that seems incredibly derivative on celluloid, save for the fact that he has a costume.
The third time is a charm. The 1989 film was a goofy Dolph Lundgren B-movie and Jonathan Hensleigh’s 2004 outing took itself far too seriously and featured Thomas Jane satisfying his bloodthirsty quest for revenge by performing elaborate pranks. Punisher: War Zone, unlike its predecessors, does not cast aside its pulpy roots to assimilate with every other gun-toting action film. From the stark comic book color palette to the exaggerated gore, Punisher: War Zone embraces its indulgences. This is best seen in the film’s antagonist, Dominic West (boasting a hilariously exaggerated New Yorker accent) as Jigsaw, a disfigured mobster gifted with the power of scenery chewing. He’s the kind of bombastic villain that went out of style with Arnold Schwarzenegger shouting ice-related puns more than a decade ago.
Lexi Alexander clearly understands the appeal of the Punisher via Garth Ennis, who redefined Frank Castle for the 21st Century in the style of his brilliant series Preacher: excessive violence as dark comedy. Thankfully, she’s good at depicting it. Her first feature, Green Street Hooligans, was an okay (albeit a bit silly) drama with intense scenes of street-level violence rendered with visual flair. She brings a similar sensibility to Punisher: War Zone, but ups the ante with violence as we’re treated to several heads exploding amidst the film’s intense gun battles. It’s clear where Alexander’s interests lie.
It just needs a better script. Everyone involved seems aware that the draw of the film is the violence and not the human drama behind it, so many of the expository scenes that don’t feature Dominic West feel perfunctory and could have done with a punch-up to make them a bit snappier. When they focus on the bumbling cops tracking down the Punisher, the script resorts to a broad style of comedy that feels tone-deaf. I found myself wishing they had the same Ennis-style dark comedy and crudeness that saturates the action scenes. It is to the credit of Alexander that the film still works in spite of this.
Ray Stevenson, Rome’s Titus Pullo, continues the trend of British actors being better than Americans at playing American comic book characters. While his accent isn’t the best in the world, he hasn’t very many lines in the film, allowing him to exude a silent intensity. Which brings me to an important question: is it “silent intensity” if one is constantly scowling? Intensity seems to come naturally to Stevenson: on Rome, despite his sunny disposition, Titus Pullo seemed a heartbeat away from descending into some violent, bottled-up fury. As the Punisher, that bottle is transparent and uncorked. Stevenson should consider moonlighting as Vinnie Jones, now usurped as the world’s most frightening Brit.
Fact: the Punisher has been around for nearly 35 years. It’s a long time for a character whose shtick is that he shoots people, but he manages to endure as a viable property. Since he shows no sign of stopping in both his war on crime and in the number of stories written about him, we should simply sit back and hope the next one has even more exploding heads.
by Danny Djeljosevic
