Lockout

Directed by James Mather and Stephen St. Leger
Starring Guy Pearce, Maggie Grace, Peter Stormare, and Lennie James

Fuck, man. So I was really exited about Boozy Wednesday’s triumphant return. Martyn finally had some gaps in his schedule. My liver finally had some gaps in its schedule. It was a Big Deal. So I’m looking at listings for 21 Jump Street and Cabin the the Woods and I come across this trailer online for a movie called Lockout that Luc Besson has produced.

And so of course I watch it and I’m like “Oh, okay” and go back to my Internet searching. Then about 10 seconds later I have a flash, like a mini-epiphany in my brain (the kind that happens when I let 2+ hours pass between vodka martinis) and I’m like “Wait, what?” And I watch the trailer a second time and it hits me.

Motherfuckin Guy Pearce IN SPACE. Dude. That’s like asking me if I want a hot fudge Sunday with extra hot fudge and Jack Daniel’s. Plus that whole bit where the voiceover goes all retarded like: “He’s the best there is… but he’s a loose cannon.” When I watched that bit it was as if the world froze and I had one of those surreal Matrix/Total Recall moments where there was a knock at the door and I opened and Luc Besson was there and Luc Besson said to me: “Ben. You need to see this movie and get drunk during it. It will make your life complete and your cock will stay fully erect for the rest of the month.” Seriously, I had VISIONS about this movie where Luc Besson was my spirit quest guide or whatever.

So last Wednesday I went out to see Lockout and embarked on what would become a 3-day drinking binge. You must understand, while a drinking binge for y’all guys constitutes happy hour a few nights in a row, a drinking binge for me constitutes not shitting solid for 4 straight days afterwards. For reals, I basically spent an entire weekend after this passing my stomach lining through my asshole. I paid hard for Lockout. And Lockout DID NOT hold up its end of the bargain.

Honestly, with a budget of $20 million and Guy Pearce AND Peter Stormare in your movie you should be able to accomplish anything. So it should be child’s play when your movie, at the core of it all, only needs to do three things:

1. The President’s daughter (Maggie Grace) is hot and gets trapped on a space station prison 
2. Guy Pearce goes to save her and has big muscles 
3. Guy Pearce kills everything

Stealth mode when it should be full-on, rocking the shit mode.

The problem with this movie is that despite its batshit insane INSANE premise, it actually plays by the rules. Like, the actual rules. If you’re Guy Pearce and you’re alone with no backup on a space station floating in orbit you’re not gonna pull any crazy Bruce Willis yippie ki-yay motherfucker shit. Even if you have huge, turbopumped muscles. You’re going into stealth mode, running away from every confrontation quick as possible, and trying not to upset anyone. This is what any soldier worth his salt would do. This is what Guy Pearce does for the entire movie and does well.

Of course the problem with this MO is that it does not give me a huge boner. It just makes me sit back in the theatre with my dirty can of Stella and wonder “Holy shit what am I paying my taxes for?” Or, you know, whatever. It was Wednesday and I was feeling entitled to see Guy Pearce curbstomp space baddies. For $20 mil that’s not so much to ask, is it? C’mon Luc. You’re using all studio sets. You don’t have a single exterior shot in the entire movie. How much can a studio lot in Marseille cost you? Right, well, whatever you’re not spending on rent and 35mm film you spend on protein shakes, 12-gauge shotgun shells, and ass-kicking boots for Guy Pearce. C’mon Luc. You made Léon. I shouldn’t have to explain this to you.

In fairness, there were a couple good moments in Lockout. Guy Pearce is really doing everything he can. Really. He’s naturally not a big dude and this script (for some reason) requires him to get his ass kicked A LOT and he takes it in stride. He has a few funny one-liners and one or two awesome kills. But if you can believe it, that one kill in the trailer where he dropkicks that guy into a huge turbine gets recut so the guy just falls in by accident. Huffing, I asked to speak to the Vue’s manager immediately but that conversation went nowhere because it sounded like this:

Ben: Fuckin… hey… manager!

Attendant: Yes, excuse me sir?

Ben: Hey buddy, get… get your manager please *burps* now like. This movie is baaaaaallls.

Attendant: Okay sir I can do this but that conversation will probably get you nowhere because you reek of booze and she’s now four months sober.

Ben: Fuck… seriously?

Attendant: Yes. She just got her 100-day medallion and everything.

Ben: Fuck… is she hot?

Attendant: Yes, but she likes women.

Ben: AMAZING!

After shouting this I decided to go back into the movie and then laughed for about 3 straight minutes when Guy Pearce punches a chick in the face unprovoked. Sure, folks looked at me funny but I had to convince myself that paying the price of entry was somehow worth it.

As a sidenote: I think management at the Vue is catching on to my scheme. For the first time last Wednesday I saw a huge licensed bouncer (armband and everything) standing in the aisle of the movie theatre the entire time. If I have to start rotating movie theatres and not being an obnoxious prick it’s going to be a huge buzzkill.

Damage: 5/10 (pre-movie: 1 pint Camden Ink, 210 ml Luksusowa Vodka on ice; during: 3 x 500 ml Stella Artois).

Boozy rating: 2/10 (I’m not saying I’m better than Luc Besson, but, like, give me $20 mil and see what happens. Just sayin.)

Next week: I’m torn between Safe, Cabin in the Woods, and American Pie: Reunion. Leave your votes as comments if you like.