{E} very few years, Hollywood releases a film that initially garners mixed reviews for its seemingly preposterous plot, only to be later celebrated for its prescient cultural critiques. In The Beekeeper, director David Ayer seems set to bypass this path of delayed recognition. Anchored by Jason Statham’s gripping performance, the film combines fun, high-octane action with a compelling depiction of modern institutional decay. It’s an enthralling blend that positions The Beekeeper alongside exploitation classics that reflect their milieu.

At the heart of the story is Adam Clay (Statham), a stoic former intelligence agent from the secretive “Beekeepers” organization. His life is thrown into disarray when online scammers target his dear elderly friend, Eloise Parker, portrayed with heartfelt authenticity by Phylicia Rashad. While the film’s emotional payoff may have been heightened by delving deeper into their relationship, Parker’s fate propels Clay on a no-holds-barred quest for retribution. Clay’s first stop is a sleazy call center, led by a Wolf of Wall Street–type swindler. But there’s a twist: The operation is merely a façade.

Here, Ayer could have easily led Clay down the road of familiar vigilante tropes and have him beat up local thugs for the next 90 minutes, à la Charles Bronson’s Paul Kersey in Death Wish. Alternatively, he could have had Clay square off against a global criminal syndicate reminiscent of John Wick’s foes. Either story would have made for a more than serviceable action flick.

Yet he and screenwriter Kurt Wimmer chart a more daring and timelier course. The bad guys Clay is hunting down are not just purse snatchers. They’re part of an elaborate network of grifters embedded within, and protected by, the upper echelons of the federal government. By deploying him into the dark underbelly of Washington, The Beekeeper holds up a mirror to our own sordid political landscape.

Embodying nepotistic rot is Derek Danforth (played convincingly by Josh Hutcherson), the degenerate son of a prominent politician. Despite defrauding the elderly to fund his (lowercase “c”) coke binges, lavish lifestyle, and family’s political ambitions, Danforth operates with impunity: The FBI treats him with kid gloves, and his schemes are abetted by former CIA chief Wallace Westwyld (Jeremy Irons, in fine form), who chairs his dynastic enterprise. Though cloaked in an elder statesman’s veneer of respectability, Irons’s Westwyld symbolizes the venal revolving door between the public and private sectors.

This premise, which might have appeared outlandish even to those who flocked to watch Death Wish 50 years ago at the height of the Watergate scandal, resonates in the America of 2024. Its plausibility enhances the film’s impact, allowing The Beekeeper to eschew convoluted plotlines and intellectual posturing that can weigh down action movies.

Our attention thus turns to savoring this revenge-o-matic spectacle led by its riveting action sequences. The Beekeeper fuses the sharp, refined cinematography evocative of the Wick franchise with the gritty sound design of a Ti West horror film. The result is a satisfying audiovisual feast that is both stylish and visceral.

Watching The Beekeeper take down proxies for real-world villains lurking at the intersection of unaccountable intelligence agencies and predatory private interests offers more than an adrenaline rush. With a drizzle of humor, it validates the public’s cynicism about the inner workings of the Grift Industrial Complex. Sure, these people may be influential, well connected, and sketchy, but we know they’re clowns — both on and off the screen.

Another prudent screenwriting decision was to make Clay’s journey personal, independent of a broader cause. Scaling down the stakes aligns The Beekeeper with the finest tradition of the subgenre. Like Bill Devane’s Major Charles Rane in Rolling Thunder and Pam Grier’s Coffy, Statham’s Adam Clay is driven solely by vendetta, not idealism. This makes Statham’s character more relatable and preserves the film’s playfulness.

Despite its political backdrop, The Beekeeper skillfully steers clear of heavy-handed moralizing and partisan proselytizing. There’s honey for all audiences in this cinematic hive: action aficionados will find that it scores a knockout, while those seeking a little more depth will appreciate its blunt social commentary. It’s an action movie with a brain that doesn’t take itself too seriously while dishing out warranted stings to corrupt elites.