The Punisher

Starring: Thomas Jane, John Travolta, Laura Harring.John Pinette, Rebecca Romijn Stamos, and Ben Foster
Directed by:Jonathon Hensleigh
Rated: R (for pervasive violence)

Bluntly speaking? The dichotomy of The Punisher's star's (Thomas Jane's) beauty vs. the pulpy tableau-esque backdrops he's cast upon, has created a gritty ballet of violence that proudly embraces its comic book roots. It's called "The Punisher" remember? So don't expect fluffy bunnies or Mensa dialog. No. You're getting mini-waisted big breasted chickbabes, fast cars that go vroom vroom, tons of guns that go boom boom, and a major beefcake square-jawed anti-hero with nuthin' to lose that's gonna do some mega-watted woop-assin,' vigilante style!

In our current 1st introduction to The Punisher you'll find a kind of Gotham-styled Walking Tall (an urban-hued Deathwish if you will), welded to a rich chromium frame of comic book anti-heroes and logic. The Punisher is an unapologetic franchise birthing from a franchise and director Jonathon Hensleigh nailed the genre from the very first frame.

We learn exactly what it takes for a law abiding, mild mannered, government agent named Frank Castle (Thomas Jane) to become an ultra-revengeasarous killing machine. Here it takes a smirking sociopath disguised as a successful entrepreneur, call him Mr. Saint (John Travolta). This evil monster in Armani murdered Frank's entire family - literally.

That would make anyone a tad mental-mad…understandably. And Frank, having survived - barely - from Mr. Saint's henchmen's horrific assault, resurrects himself, determined to punish this rat-bastard but good.

That's about it. It's not Oscar© material kids. But, what makes The Punisher enjoyable, aside from its gloriously buff and utterly mesmerizing manly-man lead Thomas Jane, is its commitment to non-politically correct pitch-black humor and comicbook-ish Saturday Night Live (when Meyers was there…) overtly dramatic poses that reek of community theateresque drama.

Now let's talk about what kept this liberal pacifistic comic book illiterate actually interested in a beat-'em-to-a-bloody-pulp tale like this…the answer is simple. It was this incredible version of a male specimen named Thomas Jane. Oh sure the guy can act…but its his nonverbal pout, menacing stare, and the thirty-six packed bod that kept this feline purring whilst the bad guys got deadened real good. I wasn't aware a man's body could look that good…(she said wiping the sweat from her brow in flashback of one of the film's billion shirtless scenes - scenes no doubt ordered by the film's female producer Gale Anne Hurd). This guy couldn't keep his shirt on…but get images of say Jack Black's rotund beer-formed belly right outta ya head! This Thomas fella makes yummitini George Clooney look like a Twinkie™ slurping couch potato folks. Its sexist manipulation reversal at its finest and Ms. Hurd I for one salute you!

Speaking of Hostess™ brand snack indulging…John "Mention Grease 3 and I'll Sock You " Travolta is back as the evil entrepreneur extraordinaire Mr. Saint…. its this "bad guy" character Johnny's been dishing out for the past five films. But, he does smirking uppity Crispin Glover hairdo-d villain so very well he fit. Guess I kinda adore Johnnie no-matter what the big palooka does, see.

Oh, buck up boys…they give you that mega-beauty Laura Harring in form fitting Tango wear cooing cheesy porno-like dialog and Rebecca Romijn Stamos in itty-bitty sundresses - so it's fair.

And believe me, this film earns its R rating; a rating that includes the tell-tale phrase "for pervasive brutal violence." Hehe. The studio did not wimp out here boys and girls. It's as gory as the original comic instructed apparently - and card-carrying Punisher fans still in a snit over Dolph's Punisher filmatic fiasco of 1989, should have broad defiant smiles announcing their inner glee with this relentless version.

Snack recommendation: Wild Turkey shots and pasta.