Maximum Overdrive Hyper Blast ... to the Max!

Max Payne (2008)

Rating ... C- (30)

Far be it from Hollywood to attempt much of anything that would qualify as original composition, and as a result Max Payne boasts box-office drawing, name-brand recognition. Video-game-to-movie may seem like a stretch as a pitch for drawing in dollars but the film's target audience is appropriately specific (PG-13 anyone?) and it's substantiated by Max Payne's place in video game history. For the uninitiated, back in the early 2000's, the gaming industry undertook steps to become more mature, and even though the transition accomplished nothing of the sort it nevertheless qualified as a success because video games now featured more gratuitous violence (not necessarily graphic, rather more colloquialized) and badass protagonists, i.e. elements that would make any thirteen year-old boy feel more mature. This trend also had the added bonus of expanding the product's marketability because let's face it - video games are fun, and nobody in the schoolyard can justifiably shit-kick you for playing something where you got to - I dunno - violently dispense justice on everybody directly or indirectly responsible for your family's death. Few were troubled by the fact this sort of narrative was incredibly generic and morally reprehensible to boot; in fact, to America it was the mark of maturity. Video games were becoming socially acceptable to the masses, and tripe like Halo and Max Payne spearheaded this shift with a modicum of anything you might desire from a game, such as engaging gameplay, complex level design, or sound stories. Far-reaching prolies then repaid the favor by claiming the titles to be the first-ever instances of art in the gaming community, neatly bypassing deserving morality tales like Fallout and StarCraft or the extraordinary lyricism of Link's Awakening. (In cinematic terms, the omission is akin to skipping straight from silent films to Lord of the Rings.) Those games required actual scrutiny and rewarded attention to detail (as partial attestation, UC Berkeley currently offers a class for StarCraft) while with Max Payne, well - you get to assault the punks that assaulted you first, guilt-free and significance-free. Who could turn that down?

Of course, if your prior experience with Max Payne is limited to this review, right now you're probably thinking this is something that validates The Simpson's amusing skewering of masculinity and empowerment where Homer changes his name to Max Powers. And more importantly, you're not alone. The simplicity of Max Payne the game transfers cleanly into Max Payne the movie. Ruffians fueled by Valkyr - a failed drug designed to boost the combat prowess of Army soldiers now used to hallucinogenic ends - kill Payne's loved ones. He kills them and follows their trail to the higher-ups responsible for the product's distribution. In fact, he disposes of them with such overwrought machismo he's rewarded with heavenly imagery for his heroic, law-bypassing deeds to society. It shouldn't surprise you, then, that Max Payne's high-contrast, black and white cinematography reflects the film's myopic moral outlook, and that even the film's joyous splotches of color still wind up rote and predictable. (Orange during a flashback? No way!) Never mind the plot particulars - Max has to see the same winged tattoo over and over to realize it signifies a Valkyr abuser and the film's ragged script fails to develop the characters beyond their po' faced bid at justified revenge - they only get in the way of the bullet-time. If that sounds slight, just remember: Max Payne is artistic achievement if an adolescent male ever saw it.