The Mechanic is unable to fix its mechanically mundane plot. “Amat Victoria Curran - Victory Loves Preparation”. Foreshadowing words engraved on the glossy barrel of Sutherland’s powerful pistol. Euphemism aside, West presents a remake of the Bronson-led action thriller that coincidentally features no vehicle mendings. That’s because, for those of you who aren’t subjugated to criminal organisations (hopefully all of you...), “mechanic” is slang for hitman. Despite Statham being bald and able to glue a fake tattoo of a barcode on that shiny cranium for a “propa laugh!”, unfortunately West was unable to title the feature “Hitman”. And so, he grabbed a wrench and proceeded into remake territory.
For what it’s worth, this is one of his more moderately tolerable features from the past decade. “Mechanic” Arthur Bishop is assigned the task of assassinating his mentor, subsequently taking his troubled son into training as a well-intentioned gesture. Naturally, Statham is slaying men in his wake with any object his eyes glisten towards, most notably a suitcase handle in this one. It’s clumsily edited, instantly forgettable and rarely hones in on the “making hits look like accidents” speciality. Expositional narration throughout, one or two plot twists that uphold no kinetic energy whatsoever and an incredible waste of Sutherland. Not to mention another “mechanic” having a weakness to young boys and small dogs. The two just don’t relate.
Interestingly, the film works when it’s divulging into the life of McKenna’s self-tortured son Steve, portrayed by the enigmatic, under-appreciated and consistent Foster. A reckless individual succumbed to illegal substances and a sleazy lifestyle to suppress his negligent upbringing. Undergoing cathartic vengeance in a bid to soothe the soul. His internal suffering forces his character to be the human component in what is otherwise a mechanical action thriller, packed full of explosions and rapid gunfire. It’s a battle of professionalism between the experienced Arthur and the inexperienced Steve, making for a surprisingly well-executed duel of wits.
The actual assassinations themselves were simple, although somewhat unimaginative, yet realistic. A few questionable moments, including a dumbfounded man glancing over at the tiniest of nuts (calm your mind...) that fell out of a grating, but nothing too outlandish. The utilisation of Schubert’s legendary piece Trio No. 2 in E-flat Major was revelatory, I must confess.
Having said that, The Mechanic is your standard Statham affair. Powered by a sensational supporting performance but weighed down by a mundane plot. Functional if immediately forgettable.
