History is, in reality, littered with crap ideas. The Penny Farthing, Esperanto, Lady Gaga. Now, with heist movie Takers hitting screens this weekend we have something else to add to this list. With an ensemble cast which reads like a who’s who of box office kryptonite very little about this film makes any sense. I’m under no illusion that teaming up the likes of Paul Walker, Hayden Christensen, Idris Elba (sorry Owen) and rap star Tip ‘T.I’. Harris ensures a certain portion of the ‘Burberry buck’ but if there is even a modicum of artistic integrity remaining in Hollywood films like Takers will be forever imprisoned in societies metaphysical bargain bin.
What little storyline there is centres around the old adage that there’s ‘no honour amongst thieves’. After being released from prison T.I’s ‘Ghost’ returns to his old haunts (see what I did there) to pitch another ludicrous robbery to his former partners in crime. After some token conflict the job is on and the Christensen’s Harvard smart A.J. sets about meticulously planning the troupes next daring robbery.
However, unbeknownst to them, Matt Dillon’s grouchy staple cop character is hot on the heels of Ghost and his cronies. Throw into the mix some pantomime Russians and Zoe Saldana in yet another transparent role and an image starts to form in your minds eye. To express all the flaws in this film would require more time than I have remaining in my life so instead I’ll just focus on some key points.
Firstly, and fundamentally, the acting is awful. With the exception of one solitary scene between Idris Elba and fellow British export Marianne Jean-Baptiste the whole thing plays out like a particularly extravagant episode of The Hills. In what I can only assume was an attempt to make the actors look better the cast is peppered with pop stars like T.I. and Chris Brown who beat ex-girlfriend Rihanna…
(comedy pause)
to that lucrative first movie role. (What?). Of course, any positive buzz generated around Justin Timberlake’s performance in The Social Network is likely to be whole heartedly undermined by two ham fisted performances here.
Whilst a large portion of the film seems preoccupied with making a distinctly bland troupe of below average actors look like double cool super dudes it baffles me as to why director John Luessenhop would allow Hayden Christensen to twat around in some sort of permanently affixed trilby.
You may think I’m being hypercritical over what is little more than an odd costuming choice but the hat is symptomatic of the film as a whole. When you strip back the Hollywood layers what is left is little more than a string of bad choices; Bad Script, bad direction, bad casting, bad costume. Need I go on? No, I needn’t.
