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 robably the only thing writer/director Jonathan Hensleigh
got right with his big budget version of "The Punisher" is to cast
Thomas Jane ("Deep
Blue Sea") in the lead role. With his raspy voice and stoic
personality, Jane is perfect.
The rest of the movie? Not so good. In fact, it's quite
horrid.
Without rehashing the plot, let's get down to the nitty
gritty, of which, shockingly, "The Punisher" has little of. Oh sure,
there are two bloody scenes of note: one involving the wholesale slaughter of
Castle's family and the other involving Castle's rumble with a muscle-bound
enforcer nicknamed "The Russian". Aside from those two scenes, and
counting the underwhelming finale, "The Punisher" looks like its Tampa
Bay, Florida locale -- that is, bright, sunny, and completely artificial.
The first mistake the producers made was hiring Hensleigh.
The writer of such idiotic fare as "Armageddon", "The
Saint", and "Jumanji"
seems more concerned with exposing lead Thomas Jane's chiseled naked chest as
many times as possible instead of figuring out -- and then plugging -- all the
holes in his and Michael France's script. But considering that Hensleigh has
rewritten France's script, and that for all intents and purposes this is his
work alone, he is the only one to blame here.
As for being a first-time director, Hensleigh fares even
worst. The one word that describes this incarnation of everyone's favorite
vigilante is underwhelming. There is nothing exceptional or well done
about this film. The action scenes are weak and ridiculously unexciting. Of
course it doesn't help that Hensleigh is working from his own trite and
illogical script. You know, for a vigilante on the blood trail, the Punisher is
surprisingly easy to locate. Whenever the bad guys want to take a swing at him,
all they have to do is knock on his door. Yes, I kid you not. The Punisher has
rented an apartment and all the bad guys know where it is. This happens
about three times in the movie. You would think he would move after the first
time, but no. Not this guy.
Also, instead of going on a bloody, psychopathic safari
hunt for those who wronged him, Castle chooses to lug a heavy fire hydrant
around in a bag, all in service of his master plan to -- Well, who cares. Frank
Castle, a man who has witnessed the total annihilation of his bloodline and held
the squashed bodies of his wife and son (yes, that's right, I said
"squashed" -- as in ran over with a truck), is running around
Tampa Bay, Florida playing cute games with jealous criminal John Travolta and
his hot-to-trot wife Livia. And then there's Will Patton ("The
Postman") as Howard Saint's top enforcer. It's a crying shame how
Hensleigh kills off Patton's character.
There's nothing about Jonathan Hensleigh's version that
would lead me to believe it's better than the cheapie direct-to-video 1989
version starring Dolph Lundgren. "The Punisher" is a messy endeavor,
filled with gaping plot holes, uninteresting characters, underwhelming action,
and a script that boggles the mind with its stupidity. More than once, Hensleigh
struggles with even the simplest scenes. There are enough editing mistakes,
continuity errors, and lackluster framing to make even a recent film school
graduate blush with embarrassment.
Maybe someone will do better with a sequel. God knows they
can't do any worst than what Hensleigh has given us here. If not for the
presence of Thomas Jane, this movie would be a total waste of time. As it
stands, it's pretty bad.
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