The only thing amusing in "The Beekeeper," actor Jason Statham's latest action vehicle, is the inherent humor in the idea of action hero being, well, a beekeeper. Secondary, tertiary and properly even a few background actors, all say in surprise "... a beekeeper?," usually before getting their head smashed into something hard nearby.
But it is a serviceable film, a sort of low-end "John Wick" that lacks the actual humor of something like 2021's equally derivative "Nobody" but fortunately doesn't have the needless self-righteousness of last year's quite boring "The Equalizer 3." Statham stars as Adam Clay, a, you guessed it, beekeeper, living in the barn of some little old lady (a wasted Phylicia Rashad), who's commits suicide after losing all her money to a phishing scam. "Two million for charity," or something like that, yells her daughter, FBI agent Verona Parker (Emmy Raver-Lampman), as if the audience shouldn't already feel bad. It's an example of how devoid of personality Kurt Wimmer's script is, but then again, he also wrote "The Expend4bles." The man writes exposition more leaden than, well, lead.
Anyway, Adam is so upset that he decides to not even wait for the police, or FBI, to handle the situation. Oh no, he almost immediately sets out to destroy the company responsible. And he does so, in typical hand-to-hand violence that people seem to love so much. Director David Ayer, who's "Suicide Squad" is a strong contender for "worst films in the last decade," redeems himself by staging and shooting the mayhem so that you can almost always see "who" is kicking, punching, stabbing, shooting, etc., "who" It helps that it's mostly always just Mr. Jason).
Of course, the company that he burned to the ground (literally) was just one of several call-centers involved, run by a well-cast Josh Hutcherson, who absolutely nails the recent "NFT influencer" personality. He chain-vapes from scene-to-scene with a cocky nervousness, covered in tattoos and expensive-looking clothes that also involves heavy drinking and the occasional line of coke. He's way in over his head with the situation and turns to a bored-looking Jeremy Irons as Wallace Westwyld, who mainly serves to drip-feed us how this Beekeeper is able to rip so easily through so many well-armed men. It's all gobbledygook CIA nonsense that honestly is less interesting than actual beekeeping.
Oh well, because none of that matters: this is a fast-paced action thriller that skates by on a good action and an even better cast, even if they have little to do outside being constantly flabbergasted at what a Beekeeper is.
I saw it in a mildly busy theater, where far-too many children watched fingers get sawed off, bones broken and knives shoved into people's necks. And they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Were they too young? Who am I to judge, but their parents, or at least guardians, were having an equally good time. In fact they applauded not one, but twice: first when Adam Clay finally catches up with the villain, and then once the credits rolled. Honestly, these people need to get out more and see other, better, films.
