There’s a thing that happens in the company of men, when somebody tells a particular kind of story. I call it the “territorial boundary-setting” story. The following is an example of ”territorial boundary-setting with extreme prejudice.”
However, if there’s a movie with multiple instances of boundary-setting-with-vehemence, and a man watches this alone in the privacy of his home or in a dark movie theater, then, as Monty Python said (sort of): “There will be much rejoicing.” There will be much appreciative howling with laughter. When I saw “Beekeeper” in the theater, I saw a few women cracking up too.
‘The Beekeeper’
Statham’s got basically two types of action stories; the first is a lone wolf with a history of violence who protects a loved one. Second, there’s the lone wolf with a history of violence who protects an innocent young person. With “The Beekeeper,” he branches out to a lone wolf with a history of violence who avenges the death of (in his character’s own words) “the only person who ever took care of me.”
“The Beekeeper” opens with one Adam Clay (Statham), dressed in traditional beekeeping garb, getting rid of some pesky hornets for Mrs. Parker, his elderly neighbor (Phylicia Rashad). She then invites him over for some dinner.
Later on, when he returns, he discovers she’s gone and shot herself dead. Why? While he was off tending to his bee hives, Mrs. Parker fell prey to an online phishing scam, targeting the elderly and cyber-illiterate, that immediately drained all her bank accounts, including the millions she was reserving for a children’s charity.
After speaking with Verona, her F.B.I. agent daughter (Emmy Raver-Lampman), the beekeeper comes out of retirement to rain unholy hell down upon the lowly scum who caused the death of, as mentioned, “the only person who ever took care of me.” As he puts it, “Taking from an elderly person is as bad as stealing from a child.”
What IS a Beekeeper?
This whole time you’ve been asking yourself, “What the heck is a beekeeper and why should I care?” The Beekeepers are a fictitious (or maybe not!) sub rosa, black-ops organization comprised of ostensibly spec ops military or CIA-trained singleton operators, who are so ridiculously talented they can walk into room filled with the best of the best, that is, Devgru (SEAL Team 6) and Army Delta Force operatives … and prevail! Impose their will! Whack all those tier-one operators with extreme prejudice! Beekeepers protect the governmental hive, you see.Yeah, right. But see—men love this. This concept of the superhero who walks grimly where angels fear to tread and smashes everything in sight, and does it kinda effortlessly. John Wick is a version of this, Jack Reacher is another. Brad Pitt’s Achilles too. “Billy Jack” in the 1970s.
Where’s It All Headed?
The FBI investigates; it’s classic by-the-book, slow-as-molasses, law-abiding demeanor providing, as it usually does in these cases, the requisite impatience for us to root heavily for the above-the-law, beekeeping, head-smashing approach.
When said snotty lad queries as to who this beekeeping instigator of massive mayhem might be, Mr. Westwyld ominously intones, “He’s probably the last pair of eyes you’re going to stare at.”
And just what kind of mayhem are we talking about? Oh, it’s extensive. Statham, a real life Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu purple belt as well as a Wing Chun kung fu, karate, and kickboxing practitioner, brings highly satisfying kick-and-punch vehemence to the proceedings, along with tying bad guys to trucks and running them off bridges, and stapling other bad guys repeatedly with staplers, until they confess stuff. And the men in the movie theater (including me) were all howling with laughter. I know. Shameful! But I can’t help myself.
Now, if you give it even a little bit of thought, you’ll know the line, “To bee, or not to bee?” is going to make an appearance at some point. Along with such nuggets as “You’ve been a busy bee,” “You kicked the beehive and now we have to reap the whirlwind,” and “Who the ... are you, Winnie-The-Pooh?” Although it can sound like him at times, it’s not Shakespeare.
But Statham, with his shapely shaved dome, cultivated stubble, lantern jaw, perennial look of mild irritation, and Cockney snarl, endures for a reason. He has enough charisma to make a quilted beekeeping outfit look macho, and he tells the “boundary-setting-with-vehemence” stories that make men connect, deep-down, with their warrior forefathers, remember what their traditional male role in life is, and laugh in appreciation. “The Beekeeper” is a grade-A Statham B-movie, full of B-grade bee one-liners, that doesn’t take itself too seriously.
