The boat-born actioner Mutiny pits one newly unemployed bodyguard against a host of human traffickers. Seems like uneven odds … for the traffickers. This film is loaded with R-rated violence and language, making Mutiny far from ship-shape for families.
We can hope that Cole Reed has, at some point in his life, experienced a more relaxing side of ocean travel.
Perhaps his employer—shipping magnate Tibu Campallo—has taken his favorite bodyguard around the South Seas in his private yacht a time or two (because, surely, all shipping magnates have private yachts). Or perhaps Tibu footed the bill for a nice Caribbean vacation for Cole, filled with buffets and umbrella drinks. (Cole definitely seems like an umbrella-drink type of guy.)
But this trip? No umbrella drinks this go-round. And you can forget about sleeping in.
Just hours earlier, Cole and Tibu were ambushed on a Bangkok street by—well, just about everyone, from badge-carrying police to thugs disguised as construction workers to some of Tibu’s own employees. Cole proved his bodyguard bona fides by killing every assailant, but he lost his job anyway: His boss was killed, too, expiring in the back of his own limousine. With his dying words, Tibu implored Cole to take care of Tibu’s son, Kameron.
And so, Cole will. But he has other, more immediate plans.
Cole’s employer may be dead, and the newly unemployed bodyguard wants to know why. He believes the answers are on a Campallo-owned container ship, the Artemis. So he stows away on the ship—ready to ask some seriously pointed questions should the occasion arise.
Or hey, maybe he just might kill everyone on board without asking a question at all. That works too.
And those umbrella drinks? They can wait.
You gotta respect Cole’s loyalty. He’d worked for Tibu for years as his bodyguard—and their mutual respect was such that Tibu considered Cole to be a second son. When Tibu dies, Cole is determined to track down his surrogate father’s killer. (Well, the guy who ordered the killing, anyway; anyone who might’ve pulled the actual trigger is cooling on those Bangkok streets.) And while we can (and will) question Cole’s methods, his desire for justice and his efforts to find it are worthy of at least a nice, solid golf clap.
And the guy works fast, too. The Artemis has barely hit the open seas before Cole finds a possible motive in Tibu’s killing: One of the ship’s cartons houses a bevy of human trafficking victims.
While this is clearly not positive, Cole and another person aboard the boat—third mate Angie Ellis—make it their mission to protect and, ultimately, save these folks from the nefarious forces at play.
The Artemis is named after the Greek goddess of the hunt—a telling name under the circumstances. The ship’s captain, Marko, wears a necklace from which hangs a Viking symbol of “guidance and protection.” (It doesn’t do much for him.)
Angie wears a tank top that exposes a bit of cleavage. When her shoulder needs some medical attention, the strap of the top is pulled aside to reveal a bare (if bloody) shoulder. As for the ship’s human cargo …
Whenever the specter of human trafficking arises, it comes with the shadow of sexual exploitation and abuse. We can’t say definitively why these folks are being trafficked, but most are women (with one really young girl in tow) and a bad guy seems to want to assault one of them before they reach port. “Got to get myself a clean one,” he says, apparently referring to one of the captured women and calling it the best part of the job.
But most of these innocent victims are protected from the carnage on which Mutiny is predicated.
Cole is clearly one who shoots (and stabs and hits and skewers) first, asks questions later. The Artemis crew—most of who know about and profit from the boat’s off-the-books trafficking assignments—are pretty tough customers as well. These two opposing sides (which includes Angie on the heroic side of the roster) shed an unseemly amount of blood.
Gunfire claims the lion’s share of the movie’s casualties. Several folks are shot in the head (sometimes several times), or they suffer gunshot wounds en route to greater indignities. Others are stabbed or have their throats cut. Most of these instances come with spurts or splashes of blood. But the film does contain more gruesome confrontations as well.
A man has his cheek ripped open by a padlock, and Cole exploits the wound further by stabbing it through with a knife. Someone stabs a guy in the throat with a piece of glass, allowing him to bleed out. A character is killed via harpoon gun, pinning the victim’s head against a wooden box. Another kills a man with a fire axe—the blade lodges in the guy’s skull. One melee features several knife injuries: One man is stuck with a blade in the shoulder, the handle still jutting out, while another is skewered in the foot and thigh. A man’s skull is crushed by a door.
A massive hook serves as a truly gruesome battle weapon: It lodges into someone’s hand and is used to hook and throw a victim across the ship deck. A corpse is found in a pool of its own blood; the man’s crewmates take it in stride, with one saying that it means a greater profit share for the survivors. A bloody wound is tended to, and the injured party gasps and swears when alcohol is used to clean it—and when someone pulls a slug out of the wound.
The opening melee that kills Tibu is a frenetic firefight wherein several people are killed. Someone skids painfully down a ventilation shaft (and is shot at while in said shaft). A young girl requires medical attention for some bloody scratches on her leg. Numerous threats are thrown about. The ship’s batteries are set on fire. A crash between two vehicles sends one tumbling down the street.
We learn that Cole’s father was a police officer who was killed in the line of duty.
More than 25 f-words and three s-words. We also hear “a–,” “b–ch,” “p-ss” and “p–ker.” God’s name is misused four times, while Jesus’ name is abused thrice.
A lavish celebration features plenty of champagne and other alcoholic beverages. We see bottles of high-end liquor in a bar. Characters drink whiskey and beer.
Tibu’s shipping business employs some pretty hard taskmasters. Angie wasn’t supposed to be on the boat at all, but rather heading home to be with her 6-year-old daughter. But when she protests over the phone that she can’t make this trip, the man on the other end of the line tells her that if Angie doesn’t make the trip, she’ll be let go.
Lies and criminal dealings are part of Mutiny’s story, obviously.
Before heading out to watch Mutiny—the latest action vehicle for star Jason Statham—a couple of co-workers suggested that I play Jason Statham bingo, a game that would feature all the sorts of cliches one might find in his movies. “Unlimited ammo” might fill in one square. A “poorly written female side character” could fill another.
If my Statham bingo card held several squares that contained variations of “ridiculously gratuitous violence,” I’m pretty sure I’d be a winner.
You don’t go to a Statham flick for great acting or intricate plotting or, even, any semblance of coherency. Some Statham films may accidentally stumble upon the finer points of storytelling, but that’s sheerly by accident. No, Statham knows his lane, and he’s happy to stick to it—careening wildly into parked cars and fire hydrants along the way.
As such, Mutiny is as predictable a movie as you’re likely to read about this weekend. This R-rated movie is filled with R-rated violence and R-rated language. Statham’s Cole Reed will shoot people and hit people and glower at people. And when someone asks what he wants, Cole will say—his voice sounding like splintered wood—“vengeance.”
Period dramas or tender romcoms are not on the Statham bingo card. But bloody mayhem certainly is. And while fans may love it, families would do well to avoid.
Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.
