Entertainment

MAMET, DAMMIT

WITH “Redbelt,” we speak of David Mamet. We. Are. Speak. Ing. Of Mamet. Do you hear this thing that I am telling you? What the f – – k did I just say?

In a film written and directed by Mamet, Mike Terry (a highly effective Chiwetel Ejiofor, with an aura of suppressed force) runs a jujitsu studio in LA. “Administer the fight,” he calls while training a cop. “Insist!”

After coming to the aid of a movie star (a potato-y Tim Allen) during a bar fight, Mike gets embroiled in litigation, showbiz and other blood sports. Mike’s life is ruled by a code of honor, but those around him don’t play that way. He may be forced to literally fight back, in a mixed martial arts bout.

This is against his code: “Competition,” he believes, “is weakening.”

Much of the Mamet gang is on hand (Ricky Jay, Joe Mantegna, Rebecca Pidgeon), while Emily Mortimer makes a welcome addition as a lawyer with a secret in a part that could have been beefed up with one more scene.

The plot twists are hard to believe, and the only thing putting off a climactic fight is Mike’s abstract idea. But the movie marches on swiftly, to the snare-drum rhythms of Mamet’s imitable dialogue: “You don’t drink?” someone asks Mike. “I used to,” he responds. Does he train people to fight? “No. I train people to prevail.”

Mamet goes to the aphorism well, and does he come back empty-handed? He does not. “The best weapon in the world is a flashlight, so you can look deep in the other guy’s eyes.”

Sometimes Mamet can’t resist pushing clever until it starts to push back: A commentator at a televised match says, “I think boxing is as dead as Woodrow Wilson.” Might work, if the movie were set in 1928.

Amid much soldiery and scammery, honor and dis-, the breakage of will and bones, Mamet (himself a jujitsu purple belt) boils up a typically strong brew of manliness and mystique. This isn’t Mamet at his finest, though, which leaves us with a script that is merely three times as smart as the average feature.

REDBELT

Well fought.

Running time: 98 minutes. Rated R (profanity). At the Lincoln Square, the E-Walk, the Union Square.