DVD: Chaos

It’s not often that a Jason ‘Straight to Video’ Statham movie leads one into a deep internal religious debate. However the final five minutes of Tony Giglio’s 2005 cop-heist drama Chaos leave one pondering the eternal question, ‘Is one good deed, right before one heads to the pearly gates, enough to save a man’s soul after a lifetime of misdeeds?’

If you switch ‘man’ for ‘Chaos’ and ‘misdeeds’ for ‘cliche-heavy action, cringe-enducing dialogue, lack of any palpable on-screen chemistry and a plot holier than the Dalai Lama’, then then the short answer is no.

So as good as it is, the shock twist at the end, designed to leave cinema-goers (!) feeling satisfied with their (ahem) evening out, does not count as a deed good enough to make up for the preceding 90 minutes of pap, however stylish it may look.

The basic plot, without giving too much (anything) away, is: sophisticated bank robbery, hostages taken, grizzled veteran cop (Statham) recalled from suspension after tragic accident, partnered with fresh-faced young buck detective (Ryan Philippe), after bad guys escape the scene the original odd-couple team up to track down the criminal mastermind behind the raid (Wesley Snipes) with interesting consequences.

It ticks all the boxes you could possibly want in a robbery film. Bad guy tells bank customer, “You picked the wrong day not to use the ATM” – check. Cop demands of colleague “I want an ID and I want it yesterday” – check. Cop makes CCTV room breakthrough “Stop… go back… THERE” – check.

There’s even a car chase, complete with speeding down narrow alleyways, smashing through plate glass windows and removal men carrying heavy items bumbling across the road in the path of the speeding vehicles. Classic.

On the other hand you also get one of the worst scenes ever committed to celluloid when a female detective seductively slips her number into Philippe’s pocket and breathes: “… for a list of things you can put in my mouth.”

Statham seems to have really found his niche as a poor man’s Bruce Willis despite the fact that, how do I put this politely, his American accent needs some work. Impolitely, but accurately, it is God-awful. He makes Kevin Costner’s Robin Hood sound like Stephen Fry after a term of elocution lessons.

Despite all this, Chaos does still serve a purpose. It can be used as a light-weight travel shaving mirror or employed to amuse infants by reflecting beams of light onto bare walls.

The conclusion couldn’t quite drag the overall standard up to satisfactory.
Alex Hoad

You can buy Chaos here. You mentalist.