Drive Angry

It's easy to forget that Nicolas Cage won an Academy Award for his acting abilities once upon a time. The American actor has been appearing in questionable flicks with questionable performances for the past decade or so, becoming practically notorious for his near-laughable roles. From the 2006 remake of "The Wicker Man" to this year's "Season of the Witch," the guy seems to just accept any high-paying offer he gets. Then again, his Oscar was handed to him 16 years ago, and it was for playing a crazy-eyed alcoholic.

His new cash-grab is a grindhouse actioner straight out of the '70s. "Drive Angry" is a grungy, R-rated, vengeful shoot-'em-up that just so happens to have some supernatural business tied to the plot. Its intention is purely to entertain a Friday night audience, which it surely does using the power of gratuitous explosions and erratic gunfire. This may not be a U-turn in Cage's shaky career, but it's something.

Here, he's donning a golden wig, a black denim jacket and a pair of groovy sunglasses as John Milton, an escapee from the fiery pits of Hell. Yes, the Hell in which Satan prods the condemned with his sharpened pitchfork and shows them "Ghost Rider" over and over again. John is bloodthirsty, he's serious, and he's pretty darn angry.

He's hunting down Jonah King (Billy Burke, "Twilight"), the man who killed his daughter and took her newborn baby. Jonah is the leader of a cult, and intends to sacrifice the infant during a satanic ritual under the next full moon. John understandably wants to stop this by any means necessary.

On his tail is The Accountant (William Fichtner, "Prison Break"), an associate of The Devil who has arrived on Earth to drag John's ass back to Hell -- but John will not go without a fight. Tagging along with the undead runaway is Piper (Amber Heard, "The Ward"), a recently fired waitress who, well, has nothing better to do.

Armed with the God-Killer Gun (it kills gods, apparently) and a 1969 Dodge Charger, John speeds down highways, evading the cops and his fearless demonic follower as he chases after the people who have taken his beloved granddaughter.

This film is unadulterated absurdity, the kind of schlocky madness that has just recently become fashionable again. The influence that Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez's "Grindhouse" double feature has had on this is undeniable, with the audience-winking tone pretty much exactly the same.

"Drive Angry" is not a comedy, it just approaches everything with its tongue placed firmly in its cheek. It's definitely not serious, rightfully so, with all character actions and physics just a couple hundred miles away from reality. It's difficult not to raise a smile when a KC and the Sunshine Band song plays over footage of a hydrogen truck smashing through a barrage of police cars. That's the way, uh-huh uh-huh, I like it, uh-huh uh-huh.

It's also tough to take seriously when John is blasting away bad guys in his hotel room without a second's thought while swigging whiskey and giving a butt-naked girl a good rogering. Talk about multitasking. Oh, and if you've seen 2007's "Shoot 'Em Up," this scene should sound familiar to you -- "Drive Angry" doesn't get many points for originality.

Cage's performance is a bit phoned in, though his character is not called upon to do much except pull triggers and drive muscle cars. He's convincing as a rough-tough bad boy who'd kill you in less than a heartbeat, but one can't help but feel that he could have put a little more effort into it. He needs a bit more petrol in his fuel tank, so to speak.

Director Patrick Lussier ("My Bloody Valentine") points the camera at Amber Heard like a late-night dogger, making sure to catch the way she fondles the gear shift with her feminine fingers. The blonde bombshell kicks some ass as John's feisty companion, who beats her fiancé's bare-assed mistress unconscious just minutes after we meet her. You go, girl!

And then there's the brilliant William Fichtner as one of the two villains, he being the more devilish and otherworldly antagonist. His performance is a perfect example of deadpan delivery, walking with a cool and confident swagger in his sharp suit and tie -- don't touch his outfit, or he'll throw you against a wall.

Well, what do you expect from a film called "Drive Angry"? With a soundtrack of electric guitar riffs, grisly violence, cool-as-ice cars and the emotional depth of a teaspoon, it's everything it needs to be and nothing more. Like a car, it does its job of smoothly getting you from A to B -- just with some teeth-inflicted castrations and beer chugging from human skulls along the way.

7/10