by Karyn L. Beach

The opposite of a chick-flick would be a man-movie, a movie filled with car chases, explosions and ample displays of hot chicks in skimpy clothes. Death Race is the epitome of a man movie.

The premise is simple. It’s the near future, unemployment is up and so is crime. The prisons have become privatized and are run by major corporations. The biggest and baddest prison is Terminal Island run with an iron fist by Warden Hennessey (Joan Allen). She’s also scored ratings nirvana by televising the Death Race – prisoners race to the death in supped up cars decked out with weapons and napalm. The man who can win five races will secure his freedom.

When their best driver, the masked Frankenstein is killed, Hennessey sets up former racecar driver Jenson Aimes (Jason Statham) for murdering his wife, so she can enlist him to replace Frankenstein.  Once inside he comes up against some nasty competition including his main rival, the super-macho homosexual, Machine Gun Joe (Tyrese Gibson).

I felt like I was watching a long video game and I’m not a huge video game fan; but I have no doubt that the audience for this film is. The fellas seemed to like it which is the point. The Death Race is just three long car chase scenes, replete with smoky explosions, fiery crashes, and rapid fire machine guns. When the cars weren’t racing, there were fight scenes, more murder and mayhem.

After the movie ended, I headed for the restroom with another female audience member (who came with her husband). She remarked to me, “Interesting movie. I can’t believe you came by yourself,” implying that the only reason a woman would see this film is by being dragged by a husband, son or boyfriend.  She was right.

If you see this with your man, he’ll owe you big time. Drag him to see The Women. Payback is a mother…