It’s not often that I get to trot out this little critical bon mot, but here goes: Punisher: War Zone kicks ass. A lean, mean mayhem machine, this movie gives you almost everything you could want in a movie that is essentially Death Wish on steroids. It took three tries, but they finally got The Punisher right.
Director Lexi Alexander leans heavily on Garth Ennis’ Max run on The Punisher. She just about nails that tone perfectly – a black humor based on carnage that edges on cartoonish and simpering, idiotic mawkishness masquerading as character development. I could never tell if Ennis was serious about ‘serious’ bits in his Punisher run or if that was all part of his tongue in cheek contempt for pretty much everything, and I felt the same way here. Is The Punisher waving at a little girl supposed to be funny or touching? Hard to say. But I do know how I feel about The Punisher holding a little girl in his arms while he shoots a handcuffed guy in the face with a shotgun at close range. I feel good about that.
Alexander’s film is drenched in neons and pastels (and blood). While other comic book movies race for realism or gritty noir posturing, Punisher: War Zone takes its own route. Surprisingly the film is often lovely to look at; Frank Castle sits in a neon church, hashing out his moral issues with a priest while in the background multi-colored candles flicker just out of focus. And then, in case this scene was getting too introspective or looking too arty, Castle says ‘Sometimes I’d like to get my hands on God…’ and everybody laughs. Mazel Tov!
The look of the film actually makes it stand out in that it looks like a comic book. In fact, walking out of the theater the best comparison I could draw was if Lorenzo Semple Jr created the 60s Batman TV show today while binging on some really aggressive meth. Lexi Alexander said that Lionsgate was worried that the film would look like Dick Tracy, and it sort of does, but that’s in no way a bad thing. This Punisher lives in a heightened reality where a guy comes at you with a chair and you put one of its legs through his eye. This is – thank the lord – not realism, but something much, much more fun. And wetter.
Ray Stevenson’s Punisher is certainly closest to what I would like a big screen version of that character to be. His look doesn’t quite work for me – he just looks like a grown up soccer hooligan – but everything else is perfect. Stevenson plays Frank Castle as a shark, a guy who just keeps going. He’s invulnerable in the best, most fun way. You’re not watching a Punisher movie to see The Punisher struggling with bad guys, you’re watching it to see him annihilate them with ridiculous ease, and in inventive ways. Stevenson gets a couple of actorly moments – pain about Frank Castle’s slain family, self-doubt when he kills an undercover Fed – but he’s mostly business here, and his business is blowing motherfuckers away. What’s especially nice is that The Punisher doesn’t get a lot of catchphrases or cute lines, so Stevenson just plays the ironic little moments silently. It works amazingly well.
The key performance in Punisher: War Zone, though, is Dominic West as Jigsaw. This performance is the one that will either key you in to what kind of movie you’re watching or will completely alienate you. West is a great actor, and his accent work is amazing – check out The Wire and you’ll see why I didn’t guess he was British until I saw him in 300. Armed with that knowledge, his work as Jigsaw is all the more delightful. His accent is so over the top as to be in the stratosphere. You can see him savoring each distended, overblown vowel as it comes out of his mouth. The level of his performance is legendary – bigger than life doesn’t even begin to cover it. Ham is just not enough. Throw in every other pork product and you’ll maybe begin to grasp it. And it’s wonderful. West is playing in the same sandbox as Cesar Romero and Frank Gorshin and he’s making them proud. It’s a fun performance, filled with maniacal life and glee. I loved every second of it.
All of this is not to say that Punisher: War Zone is a perfect film. There’s a perfunctory second act where the gunfire dies down some, and much of that is dull. To her credit, Lexi Alexander seems to understand that characterization and dialogue are for chumps, and she keeps things steaming ahead at full speed for most of the film’s 80 minute runtime. For those fretting about Frank’s relationship with a widow and her young daughter, don’t worry too much – they exist mainly as bait for the final, epic shoot out. There’s too much stuff with cops in the film, but again Lexi doesn’t let the movie get too bogged down. These scenes feel more like breathcatchers than filler.
Lionsgate has bookended 2008 with two amazing films, both surprising in their quality and shocking in their violence and both starring Julie Benz. Rambo is a much more serious film than Punisher: War Zone, and probably ‘better’ on some subjective scale of movie quality, but I had a lot more fun with Punisher. It’s possible that Rambo is even more violent, but Punisher: War Zone spreads its violence out like jam on an English muffin, hitting almost every nook and cranny with bloodshed and pain. I leave it to a more ambitious person to catalogue every bit of brutality visited upon the human form in this film, but if you’re the person who laughs and applauds at the sight of an old lady’s head being turned into a smoking, meaty crater, you’re going to fucking love Punisher: War Zone.