An aggressively, gleefully dumb outing from director David Ayer and star Jason Statham, beginning with the admittedly funny bit that the guy we meet at the outset who works as a beekeeper used to be a Beekeeper — a super-agent acting outside the system to Protect the Hive, aka, American civilization. The film starts out as a simple revenge rampage after a phishing scam ruins the nice old lady who lets him keep his hives on her farm — did we mention the nice old lady is mother to a sassy FBI agent who wears her Harvard T-shirt under her windbreaker? No? Well, now we have. But it soon morphs into something much bigger, something that might require the work of a queenslayer bee, the sort who protects the hive by destroying the rot at the top (as evidenced by the defective offspring, played here with ‘80s-style sleaze-kitsch by Josh Hutcherson). Toss in Jeremy Irons for some plummy exposition — did he just call some former SEALs a bunch of pussies? Oh my! — plus a little law-vs-justice moral tension, and off we go. Like, way off, leaving even the notion of reality behind like a burned-out barn full of busted honey jars. In its place, a hero who makes James Bond look inconspicuous and John Wick look vincible. There is one fight near the end that sparks some tension, but we have to watch so many bodies fall in tedious fashion to get there — and afterwards, it’s right back to the silliness. The sets are fun, though, particularly the hi-tech call centers and the finale’s seaside estate. (2024) — Matthew Lickona