Paul Newman was pretty cool. So was Steve McQueen, James Dean, and Marlon Brando.
For decades those four men have been looked at as the icons for nearly everything having to do with being manly. They rode fast bikes and cars, had beautiful women, had great off-screen personalities, led mythical lives, and occasionally starred in a movie. They brought back the white t-shirt and cuffed jeans, turtle-necks, baracuta and denim jackets, and scarves. They played rebels, bank robbers, cowboys, punks, miscreants, trouble-makers, mafioso, and gangsters.
Well so has this guy:
Don't get me wrong. I look up to everyone previously mentioned as legends. They really lived. But I can't help but feel a certain disconnect with what some might call a bygone era. Statham takes their spirit of adventure and recklessness and updates it. Not as good or polished, but modern, and something current and evolving.
He is new with a sense of old. A real 21st century boy.
No, he will probably never have his own line of foodstuffs, race cars professionally, or start a film festival, but he was an Olympic quality diver.
He hasn't been famous for very long, but he has already starred in arguably some of the greatest heist movies of all time, and logged amazing chase scenes as well.
He looks just as bad-ass in a 2-button as he does in a welding coat. And oh yeah, he's balding.