This remake of a 1970s James Caan movie immediately got high marks for me because the bad guys are British, and the most rotten bad guy is black, and British. I live in a nation that worships the island of its former masters and has enshrined the black man as a national martyr, who must always be portrayed in film as a wise and self-sacrificing hero. Also, as much as British history and values disgusts me, British actors are fantastic—and two good action men lead this film: Jason Statham [the guy your old lady wants to screw] and Clive Owen [the guy your old lady wants to have coffee with tomorrow morning after Statham slides down the fire escape]. The casting is marred by the inclusion of New York actor, Robert Deniro, as New York man hunter, Robert Deniro.

The lead protagonist is, Danny, the jackal with ‘balls of steel’, played by Statham with his trademarked nine-o’clock shadow lantern-jawed intensity; a somehow viable cross between Brad Pitt and Popeye the Sailor Man’s nemesis Bluto. Killer Elite starts out establishing the amorality of Danny’s trade, with a Latin American political hit, and, in the first scene, also establishes Danny as a moral person, a killer with a code.

The action throughout is very good, the acting excellent, with nasty British bad guys and sleazy American jerks. My favorite quotes from the dialogue are courtesy of the sleazy black British fixer:

“I’ve got no problem with blood. What worries me is ink.”

“I’m a vulture that lives off killers.”

The best line is owned by a Brit heavy who, when asked who he is, responds, “Mfwic”. When called to task about this strange title the man responds icily, “Mutherfucker whats in charge!”

Aside from the presence of Deniro as a lame duck assassin, the movie is only compromised by the standard action film tropes of the reluctant killer being forced out of retirement and the improbably happy ending.

Killer Elite was a fun two hours.