PAYBACK TIME

PAYBACK

Directed by Brain Helgeland

Starring Mel Gibson, David Paymer,

Maria Bello

During his appearance last year at Sanders Theatre, Mel Gibson ruffled some feathers with his wry words of advice. "Life is like a shit sandwich," he cracked. "The more bread you have, the less shit you have to eat." He sticks by this motto tighter than Post-it notes in his new movie Payback, even at the threat of ten broken toes. Never has so much been wrought for so little.

In pursuit of his sourdough, $70,000 to be exact, he endures so much pain that even the most cold-hearted viewer breaks down and begs for Gibson's forgiveness at the mere thought of not loving the movie. It seems that greedy little Mel wants it all, the dough and the doo-doo to boot. Whereas some actors employ pathos and ethos to panhandle Oscar gold, Gibson aims straight for the gut, which goes to show that even metal buckles at a de-entrailed man's blood-curdling cry for freedom.

As Porter, Gibson really takes the suffering-for-your-art mantra to a new level, kind of like the Samaritan who lies down on the oil slick so you can walk on him to get over the puddle. With each new movie, he ups the ante, symbolically slathering more mustard on the dog so that it becomes more about how much torment he can take rather than about the movie itself. The evolution of this Method throughout his career shoves subtlety where it don't shine. Mad Max meets Martin Riggs meets Braveheart equals Porter, the con man with a heart of Maria Bello. Yet, beneath all this viscerality lies a humor quotient liberally laced with self-deprecation. Above all, Gibson doesn't want us to take him seriously because he certainly doesn't. It is as if each kick to the nether regions he takes is a nudge, nudge, wink, wink to the viewer that he knows we're in on his little S&M game.

The films begins a little self-importantly, awash in its Picasso Blue period palette, mimicking the voice-over style and groove of the Bogart noir, only Porter's not a dick, just a guy who gets back stabbed by his wife and partner in a heist. He vows revenge, but takes his time reacquainting himself with the city and its environs, plotting. We get the feeling from the start that he's just biding his time, a shark circling its prey, but he does take the whole thing a little too seriously. His bad-ass persona seems a bit silly considering he is Mel Gibson the goofy guy who gets a kick out of life. This is definitely a case where celebrity transcends any attempt at getting into character.

Porter shacks up with a girl he used to drive around (Bello), and there's the obligatory we-should-have-sex shtick, though in his state, we wonder why sex is even on his mind. God love Maria Bello, but the whole relationship is unconvincing, the hood and the hooker sitting in a tree... The whole scenario is a waste of screen time that could be put to better use by Lucy Liu, legal eagle by prime time, dial-a-dominatrix in this celluloid romp. She deliciously performs her duties on Porter's ex-partner and is even called upon to give Porter some gun-totin' lovin. As Pearl, she is Gibson's true foil in this movie, she likes to inflict pain as much as he likes to take it. Suffice it to say, it's celebrity death match made in heaven.