"Death Race" an explosion of mindless action

"Death Race" should at least score points for its title, which is more apt than, say, "Feelings Exploration." It's mostly a race, and there's a lot of death. Because as exploitation movies go, my problem with 1974's "Barn of the Naked Dead" was little nudity and death. Decent barn, though.

About as mindless as action gets — yet fully as-advertised and not fully horrible — this is perfect foreplay for UFC fights on cable TV whenever they get tired of showing the "Blade" trilogy. Never on the Oxygen network.

It's more variation-on-a-theme (by way of "The Running Man") than remake of producer Roger Corman and director Paul Bartel's campy 1975 drive-in classic, "Death Race 2000." The satire and camp are geared down here in favor of badassery, the drivers and their cars aren't such distinctive characters, and the race takes place in a prison complex — not cross-country with points scored for plowing down civilians. End result: it keeps your adrenaline up better, but it's just an empty, generic action film and not as fun, clever or memorable.

Instead of the far-flung year 2000 (and by the way, keeping that year in a recurring bit has worked well enough for Conan O'Brien), it's 2012. The economy has collapsed and corporations run everything. It's not a documentary. The world's most popular extreme sport pits convicts against each other in cars fitted with machine guns, napalm and those "Proud parent of an honor student" bumper stickers. Or most of those things.

Proud parent Jensen Ames (Jason Statham) gets framed for murdering his wife, sent to Terminal Island, and given a shot at reuniting with his baby daughter. All the icy warden (Joan Allen) tells him he has to do is take on the identity of popular masked champion Frankenstein, who just got smoked but had won four out of the five races needed for a pardon. Ames gets a ridiculously hot female convict navigator (Natalie Martinez). His pit crew includes old-timer Coach (Ian McShane), and his chief rival is Machine Gun Joe (Tyrese Gibson). Also, the game is fixed.

Gentlemen, start your sympathetic nervous systems.

Even acknowledging how little the movie leads you to expect plotwise, some parts are distractingly sloppy, including a comeuppance that made me wonder: Why didn't they just bring in Elmer Fudd and have him open a package marked "ACME CORP."?

Statham started the year with class in "The Bank Job," showing he could do more than grimly drive cars and beat dudes up. That's all he does in "Death Race," but it is fun to watch him lay out a few attackers with a cafeteria tray. Allen and McShane are slumming in cardboard parts, but it would have been nice to see more of the latter, whose diabolical delivery makes even bad lines kind of tasty.

Director Paul W.S. Anderson is just one rung up the cesspool ladder from the reviled Uwe Boll, cranking out science fiction and video game flicks that range from disappointing to worthless, but look slick enough to entertain the dealer in "Pineapple Express." His rap sheet includes "Alien vs. Predator," "Resident Evil," "Soldier," "Event Horizon" and "Mortal Kombat."

How many points in the old Death Race would you get for hitting Anderson with your car?

Mark Rahner: 206-464-8259 or mrahner@seattletimes.com