Any movie with a line like "No, you keep [this enormously huge knife]. You appreciate a good blade" is basically immune to criticism.
Not just because the man who said it could kill me, eat me, and tell the police he killed and ate me without getting a harsher response than "Uh, try not to do it again, Mr. Hulk's Brother, sir. And if you have to, could you not tell us about it next time? Thanks." I mean, there is that, but some movies are beyond reproach in the same way a cheeseburger is. If you argue that cheeseburgers are bad, even when you're right, you're wrong.
-- Local show times, theaters, trailer.
Much as you don't compare a cheeseburger to whatever fancy foods you people who don't live in the janitorial closet at Jack in the-Box eat, you don't compare most Sylvester Stallone movies to Goodfellas or the Coen Brothers. You compare them to the Schwarzeneggers. The Stathams. And every other face-kicking wad of Hollywood muscle on Earth, every one of whom has a role in The Expendables.
Following a mission to free hostages from Somali pirates, Stallone's elite team of mercenaries is contracted to clean up the small island of Vilena, which is caught between cocaine dealers and upstart general David Zayas.
Their first try is too dangerous. But local Giselle Itie gets inside Stallone's head. He's worried he's becoming soulless, in it only for the money. He wants to go back--but Jason Statham and the rest of the team won't let him go it alone.
If I know anything about Sylvester Stallone, and I do, because I hire a guy to steal his trash for me, it's that he loves guns and fake blood. (Also freeze-dried gravy.) So I was only momentarily surprised when the first five minutes of The Expendables featured some guy getting blown in half and one of those halves flying across the room. Then I remembered "Oh, right. All those Rambos."
It's a little harder to remember Stallone can be a pretty good director. Sure, The Expendables' character development is nothing special. For that matter, neither is the story. Hardened warriors enter foreign land, become entranced with the locals, and do good for once, you say? A plot as fresh as these lumps I can only assume were once bratwursts I found in Mr. Stallone's garbage.
Par for the course when your co-writer is the guy who did Doom, I guess. But Stallone employs a secret weapon: every single action star from the last 20 years, with the exception of Steven Seagal, who gets a pass for doing Machete, and Jean-Claude Van Damme, who damn well better have been too busy drinking beers with Wilfred Brimley to attend.
Just watching Stallone, Statham, Jet Li, Dolph Lundgren, Terry Crews, and Randy Couture hang out together is fun. That they have some hilarious dialogue in between all the beatings and shootings is a welcome surprise.
As for those beatings and shootings, Stallone approaches them with an enthusiasm that can't be faked. CG blood squirts like the juice of a fresh grapefruit. Severed body parts fly like freshly severed body parts. Crews reduces entire hallways of anonymous soldiers to blood-scented air freshener.
If this sounds dumb: yes.
If this sounds like something of limited interest to females, although there are plenty of aged, swollen biceps on display: also yes.
But The Expendables is also a well-made if derivative action movie with a lot of fun guys having fun. That frequently takes the form of killing. Enjoy guilt-free.
Grade: B-
