mechanic

The evolution of the cinematic hitman from grizzled street-thug to well-manicured aesthete began with Charles Bronson as contract killer Arthur Bishop in The Mechanic (1972). From his elegantly decorated home to his meticulously planned working habits, Bishop surrounds himself with all the finer things in life…bought and paid for by ending the lives of others. It’s a portrait that’s been embellished by other filmmakers time and again, but rarely with as much pathos as Bronson brings to the role.

After a brilliant 16-minute dialogue-free opening sequence that exemplifies the character’s modus operandi for staging executions that look like tragic accidents, Bishop is hired to kill family friend, and fellow criminal, Harry McKenna (Keenan Wynn). Once the job is done, he feels a certain connection with the Harry’s son, Steve (Jan-Michael Vincent, Airwolf), who he grooms to be his successor. But their “teacher-student” relationship is tenuous at best. And Bishop just might be unwittingly setting himself up for an early retirement.

Directed by Michael Winner, a frequent Bronson collaborator who would team up with him again for Death Wish just two years later, The Mechanic is littered with ‘70s tropes of both the visual (snap zooms to polyester pants) and scripted sort (“Can you dig it?”). But they rarely impact the films dramatic momentum, which jumps continents like a Bond adventure, leaving a trail of burned rubber and shotgun shells in its wake. Although it has the heart of an action movie, there’s an old soul behind Bronson’s squinty eyes. And thanks to him, The Mechanic mines some deeper material; the tragedy of a man who has everything one could want in life...except someone with whom to share it.

Twilight Time’s 3000-copy limited edition Blu-ray (available exclusively at ) delivers a great presentation of an intentionally ugly film. The commentary track with director of photography, Richard H. Cline covers the gritty look (which manages to make downtown Los Angeles look like some seedy corner of Queens, NY), the unstable temperament but undeniable talent of director Michael Winner and a broad range of old Hollywood vs. next generation topics. Julie Kirgo’s liner notes illuminate the original script’s overt homosexual relationship which was rewritten to attract a viable star actor of Bronson’s caliber.