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Monday, 13 September 2010

Venice 2010: Machete


“Ma-che-te!!! Ma-che-te!!! Ma-che-te!!!” The roars and the applause for Mexican badass Danny Trejo hit mind-boggling decibels last night as the actor took his seat for the world premiere of Robert Rodriguez's film of the same name, the long-awaited long-form adaptation of his own fake trailer. And I should know; due to some form of festival karma, my colleague and I found ourselves with tickets to the seats allocated to RR and his entourage, and, as a result, I watched the movie sitting directly behind Ms Jessica Alba, with Trejo to my left and Rodriguez to my right. It certainly helped the experience, since the midnight screening didn't get started until gone 12.30am, and though the film doesn't especially drag or get boring, it suffers from a lot of over-complicated plotting that takes a hell of a long time to resolve when the clock is steadily ticking past 2am.

The thing I most liked about Machete is that it delivers all the beats promised in the trailer, and quite convincingly so. The only one I didn't quite buy was how Trejo ended up in a rockpool with his enemy's topless wife and daughter, but, since that's all in the spirit of Grindhouse, I'm happy to let that one go. But the big surprise is that Machete isn't simply a Trejo vehicle; like Once Upon A Time In Mexico or, more comparably, the end of Planet Terror, Machete is an ensemble piece that falters seriously when Rodriguez strays too far from his leading man. If you're interested in this movie, you already know the score: a Mexican drifter with a past is hired to shoot a right-wing, anti-immigration senator (Robert De Niro), but is instead set up as a patsy by a sinister businessman (Jeff Fahey) who is in cahoots with the politician to boost his popularity. Machete is supposed to be assassinated himself before the plan can be put into action, but instead he escapes and, thanks to an underground network called, er, The Network, he sets out for revenge.

It would be churlish to go into too much detail here, as some of the fun comes from the one-liners, visual gags and cameos, from stars as diverse as Don Johnson, Steven Seagal and Lindsay Lohan, who spends a lot of time nude, wearing a strategic blonde wig to protect what little remains of her modesty. Seagal, especially, is most entertaining as the druglord who holds the key to Machete's violent rage, although the comedy is surprisingly overplayed here, as if RR is encroaching, unsuccessfully, on Tarantino territory (Seagal's henchmen are very Pulp Fiction in this respect, constantly commenting on the action). The worst culprit of all, though, is Robert De Niro, whose performance is, quite frankly, abysmal. The enjoyment of seeing him mugging and quipping soon fades when you realise he's going to be in the movie a LOT more than anyone had any reasonable right to expect.

However, when it's on course, Machete is good, brutal, violent fun, with heads exploding and blood-spattering in all directions. The effects are quite shonky at times, and the effect is more “Sorry, we didn't have time to do it properly” than “Aw, fuck it, pretend you're at the drive in” but Machete has a rebellious charm that, for the hardcore faithful, will be hard to resist. The end credits promise two more Machete movies – Machete Kills! and Machete Kills Again! – but personally I want to see a spin-off to showcase Michelle Rodriguez's mysterious Luz character. No more tomboy roles for this woman, please. And if you see the movie, you'll definitely see my point.

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