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They stole his money, turned his woman against him, and left him for dead. Now tough-guy poster child Porter (the appropriately world-weary Mel Gibson) is back, bad to the bone, and a mite ticked off at the Organization that done him wrong.
Mucho macho carnage ensues.
It took some major guts for first-time director (and Oscar winner for the script of L.A. Confidential) Brian Helgeland to take a shot at adapting Donald Westlake's pseudonymous, legendarily gritty novel The Hunter for the screen (especially considering that director John Boorman and irresistible force Lee Marvin had already produced a fairly definitive rendering of the source material with their enigmatic 1967 masterpiece Point Blank). Nonetheless this novice auteur managed to pull out a winner. Put simply, this compulsively watchable piece of scuzz-art hits like a well-placed Magnum round, with a wonderful '70s vibe and an awesome rogues' gallery of baddies (including James Coburn, Kris Kristofferson, William Devane, and the riotously sadistic Lucy Liu) for the charmingly battered star to play off of--and ultimately wade through.
Although this enjoyably seedy roll through the gutter of Crime Alley does occasionally threaten to wander off its downturned track (hands-on producer Gibson reportedly stepped in at the last moment to make his antihero a little more heroic), the final result is an admirably pulpy, distinctly dirty slice of neo-noir liberally marinated in blood, blue smoke, and bourbon. This particular payback's one tough little SOB, indeed. --Andrew Wright
Every so often Mel Gibson likes to get down and dirty for one of his unglamorous roles; the last such occasion was "Ransom," and now he appears as Porter, a grim-faced criminal who was cheated of seventy thousand dollars by his wife (Deborah Kara Unger) and his associate (Gregg Henry). The movie, which delights in its low-lit scumminess, follows Porter on a quest to retrieve his money and, more broadly, to assert his determined free spirit. This entails the indifferent slaughter of those who stand in his way-men from the Outfit, for example, a mysterious cabal that holds their city in its clutches. The picture was filmed mostly in Chicago, although the place is never named, and the writer and director is Brian Helgeland, although he was ousted from the project before the end; reports are that almost a third of it was rewritten and reshot. No surprise, then, that the result should be a mess: half-jokey and dumbly violent, with performances that flail all over the place. (Special mention should go to the twitching of Gregg Henry's facial muscles.) The script was based on Richard Stark's novel "The Hunter," which was also the source of the 1967 Lee Marvin movie "Point Blank." If you're looking for an existential hero on a revenge kick, Marvin is still your man. -Anthony Lane
Copyright © 2006
The New Yorker