Hank (Alan Ritchson) works in Brisbane as a ‘runner’, a sort of glorified delivery man making drops that might be sensitive or dangerous. When he’s sent to pick up a human organ and its courier Ben (Owen Wilson), he finds himself the target of murderous goons.
When the universe closes a season of Reacher, it opens a window — with Runner. This enjoyable slice of mindless high-concept action nonsense allows star Alan Ritchson to once again brood, punch and blow things up. Ritchson has considerably more range than is on display here, but what this lacks in originality it makes up for in pace and effectively delivered mayhem.
Our hero is delivery man Hank Malone, a US immigrant to Brisbane who’s rebuilding his life after war, trauma and tragedy. One day, he’s tasked with transporting a human organ, newly arrived by private jet, to its recipient — but it turns out that the organ and its courier, Ben Bishop (Owen Wilson), are the target of ne’er-do-wells who are determined to get hold of it at any cost. Hank, who unsurprisingly has a military background, must keep Bishop and the package safe. Cue carnage up and down the Gold Coast as Rodrigo Santoro’s vaguely defined cartel boss Dámian Zaldívar and his interchangeable army of biker-gang minions attempt to get their hands on the precious liver.
There’s a surprisingly high body-count, and some wince-inducingly crunchy kills.
It’s honestly an inspired MacGuffin for a big, dumb action movie, and the movie regularly reminds us of the stakes by cutting away to Leila George’s instantly sympathetic Kate, mother to a very sick little girl. Director Scott Waugh also takes just enough time to establish some broad-strokes character for Hank and Ben. The former, naturally, is taciturn, determined and hiding pain beneath gruff loneliness; the latter is all charm and chat and ill-equipped to deal with near-death experiences. It’s an (overly) familiar dynamic, but one that is still dependable, and Ritchson gives Hank enough wounded charm that he doesn’t get too formulaic — even if he does make the Reacher-ish claim that, “I am not someone people successfully fuck with.”
Much of the action involves car chases weaving in and out of suspiciously disciplined civilian traffic, Waugh’s camera (and VFX) swooshing around them, but there’s a surprisingly high body-count for a film ostensibly about saving a life and some wince-inducingly crunchy kills. Still, that’s what we came for, and who cares when they’re faceless goons trying to kill a small child? It’s all just grist for the mill — and hopefully the desperately ill people of Brisbane will have a few more organs available after all of this.
It’s business as usual for both Ritchson and Wilson, but perfectly serviceable action baloney with just enough humour and emotion to keep you engaged.
