Review: 'Machete' doesn't push envelope enough

Believe it or not, the character of Machete was not invented as a fake commercial in 2007’s “Grindhouse,” though that was the first time he showed his face to the world.

Director Robert Rodriguez conceived of using his cousin, Danny Trejo, as an ex-Federale turned crusading assassin while making “Desperado” in the early ’90s. The popularity of the bogus trailer convinced Rodriguez the world was ready for a feature-length version.

But is it?

Unwilling to consistently push its violence, sex or comedy to the extremes demanded by its grindhouse roots, “Machete” turns out to be a mixed bag of monotonous exposition and tasteless fun.

After losing his family to the vicious Mexican drug lord Torrez (Steven Seagal — so this is what he was busy doing when Sylvester Stallone called about “The Expendables”), a cop who goes by the name Machete (Trejo) because of his preference for blades over guns, slips across the border into the United States, where he works as an illegal day laborer.

One day he is hired by Booth (Jeff Fahey) to kill a state senator (Robert De Niro) running on a virulent anti-immigration platform. But when Machete is double-crossed and left for dead, he joins forces with Immigration and Customs Enforcement Agent Jessica Alba, and a sort of Mexican Moses (Michelle Rodriguez) against a minuteman-like vigilante gang led by Don Johnson and the man pulling all the strings, Torrez himself. (Cheech Marin even makes an appearance as Machete’s marijuana-smoking brother, and Lindsay Lohan shows up as a badly behaved, drug-addled slut. Nothing like playing things close to the vest, guys.)

“Machete” opens with a blood bath, an exciting scene one would assume is endemic of the entire film. Instead, it is the exception and not the rule.

Though it’s rated R for countless decapitations and gory dismemberments, “Machete” is rather tame when it comes to sex and nudity.

In the same way that Quentin Tarantino’s “Grindhouse” addition (“Death Proof”) didn’t faithfully fulfill the rules of the genre, so too does “Machete” wimp out when it should be going for broke.

The problem is that Rodriguez spends too much time using social commentary as slapstick and not enough time reveling in gleeful grindhouse transgression.

This sociological exploration may be effective in other films, but any genre that bases its appeal in boobs and blood should be prepared to go all the way, not merely pay lip service to tradition.

The social commentary is prescient, to be sure, but too often it takes over, replacing titillation with right-wing villainy and illegal immigrants’ rights. (“Machete” also has fun with Mexican stereotypes, filling the film with Mexican gardeners, janitors and hotel maids, as well as colorful cars the size of boats that bounce on powerful hydraulics.)

“Machete” is so poorly and listlessly directed that one might be tempted to think its awfulness is part of its homage. It’s not.

I got the impression the entire time that I was watching the sort of movie my siblings and I used to make as kids (except with a far larger budget), and just as poorly produced. “Machete” has its moments to be sure, but these moments are largely reproductions of scenes from the faux trailer.

The reason the trailer works so well is that there is no need for narrative filler or character development — it gets to focus on only the good stuff.

But in expanding the story, Rodriguez and co-director Ethan Maniquis remove their tongues from their cheeks too many times.

MACHETE

Cast: Danny Trejo, Michelle Rodriguez, Jeff Fahey, Jessica Alba, Cheech Marin, Don Johnson, Lindsay Lohan

Directors: Robert Rodriguez and Ethan Maniquis

Theaters: Chapel Hills, Cinemark, Hollywood, Tinseltown

Rated: R (for strong bloody violence throughout, language, some sexual content and nudity)

Running Time: 1 hour, 45 minutes

GRADE: C+