Recently, The Guardian film critic Jim Crace posited that “The Expendables” is pretty much the male version of “Sex & The City,” and in a way he’s right. If “Sex & The City” catered to the lowest common denominator idea of what women expect in an entertaining film (fashion, shoes, men, handbags, brand names), then Sylvester Stallone’s “The Expendables” does more or less the same thing, giving men all the action, explosions, one liners and manly camaraderie (though curiously, no gratuitous nudity) they expect from a movie made for their gender. So, in its own weird way, Sylvester Stallone’s film is a marketer’s dream; the kind of project that has a target demographic as clearly delineated as it is broad (males, aged 18-55). Basically, if you’re a guy and have ever seen an action movie at any point in your life, this movie is for you.
So, no surprise then that the film is supposedly tracking well. This hasn’t been a hard sell for Lionsgate and on paper it’s a genius concept: collect every action star from the genre’s golden age, put ’em all in one movie and let the sparks fly. But unfortunately Stallone, who directed the film and co-wrote it with Dave Callaham, doesn’t quite understand what made those action films of yore (ie. the ’80s and early ’90s) so “great.” The thing is, what they excelled at – crusty Cannon Films entries, brainless early Arnold Schwarzenegger efforts and every other C-level flick – was a level of earnestness that only played into how stupefyingly entertaining they were. A film like “Commando” for instance, a perfectly dumb film that this writer will gladly watch over and over again, has an intangible quality to it that is difficult to explain, not to mention replicate. Everything in it, from its charm, quips, action scenes and pacing, seems the product of a total accident by director Mark L. Lester. And what fans who in certain quarters are rallying behind “The Expendables” seem to forget is that for every “Commando” there are about a dozen more films that miss the mark. And as much as Stallone has the right elements in place, he unfortunately can’t find quite the enigmatic mix that would create the lightning-in-a-bottle instant classic the film aspires to be.
The main problem is that the film is over-plotted to death. Brainless action films don’t need plots. Or at least, they don’t need them as convoluted as this and the real tragedy is that for all the exposition, it still doesn’t make much sense or have much real consequence, other than providing a reason for the ragtag Expendables crew to get together and kick some ass. But such as it is, the story revolves around an ex-CIA higher-up, James Monroe (Eric Roberts), who has paid off the dictator (David Zayas) of a nameless South American nation to grow cocaine for him. An anonymous person codenamed Mr. Church (Bruce Willis), claiming to work for the FBI, wants Stallone and his Expendables crew (yes, they call themselves that and even have decals on their motorbikes and tattoos to prove their membership) to hit the island, and unseat the evil dictator. Yes, it’s one of those movies. At some point in the rambling conspiracy theory narrative Monroe, Mr. Church and the dictator are eyed as the potential real enemy, but for all the time spent trying to figure it out it doesn’t make a lick of difference anyway. And we won’t even get into the subplots involving the local girl, revolutionary and dictator’s daughter Sandra (Giselle Itie) or the relationship woes that plague one of the Expendables, except to say that they are further diversions in a script that knots itself up with a story that doesn’t know where to stop.
And if the script is a structural mess, the one-liners are the hollow pillars trying to keep this thing up. We can’t remember the last press screening we went to where there was such a palpable feeling that people wanted to like the film and were giving it huge leeway. And despite this, “The Expendables” still flies well under the already low bar that would’ve been given a pass by less discerning critics. This is just plain, uninspired stuff. And worse, some of the biggest, leaden misses are repeated later in the film just in case you missed them first time round. Jet Li (whose character is unfortunately named Ying Yang) fares the worst, with a really unfunny routine that comes up more than once where he asks lead Expendable Barney (Stallone) for a raise for his family. BUT HE DOESN’T HAVE A FAMILY! GET IT!? HA HA HA. We’re not sure how this is a pinnacle of comedy, but the screenwriters seemed to love it, and Stallone made sure to use pregnant pauses during these (multiple) begging sessions so the audience could dry their tears and hear witty rejoinders. But neither Stallone or Dave Callaham are comedy writers or understand what makes something funny, so what they might think would be funny in context of these characters doesn’t translate because, for the most part, none of these guys get a back story. So much of the film plays like hearing constant punchlines with no set-ups, or ones that are explained quickly after the fact. At times the audience feels like an outsider listening in on an inside joke.
But if the script is a mess, and the jokes are empty, Stallone mostly delivers on the action — when he finally gets around to it. For the most part, Stallone utilizes this badass crew — Jason Statham, Jet Li, Dolph Lundgren, Mickey Rourke, Terry Crews, Steve Austin, Randy Couture — to very good effect. Each actor gets their own chance to shine a bit, even if the tone of the action scenes wavers wildly from gritty, urban realism to body-part-exploding-knife-in-the-face outrageousness (the latter of which played much, much better but was utilized far too little). But as impressive as the final setpiece is, the film peaks even earlier with its best sequence, a car chase that ends in a hand-to-hand warehouse fight between tiny Jet Li and the giant Dolph Lundgren. It’s somewhat telling that while there’s no shortage of shit blowing up real fucking good (full points to the demolition dudes on this film), good old fashioned chop-socky action is the most engaging bit of the whole film. It’s pure joy to watch these two go at it, and should place in the highlight reel of any die-hard action buff. Too bad it’s right in the middle of the movie as everything after it doesn’t quite live up to that showdown.
So how can the film still be disappointing if it (ultimately) delivers on its action promises? Go back to “Commando”; it pretty much bursts out from the gate and then tears along for 90 minutes and it’s over. By comparison, yes, action fans will eventually get what they paid for but not without sacrificing nearly half of the running time to tedium, and growing increasingly impatient through the film’s first half that sputters to life and suddenly grinds to a halt numerous times in trying to set up the story. And the inconsistent tone — both mocking the conventions of the genre while taking them seriously at the same time — makes “The Expendables” a very difficult film to meet on its own terms, simply because it never establishes what those terms are.
Will the film be a success within the parameters it sets out? Seems to be a near certainty at this point; we can see dads and sons watching this together and getting a kick out of it, but for those waxing nostalgic for the midnight screening classic they want, expectations will need to be tempered. Armed with many of the flaws that persist through the worst entries of genre, if it weren’t for some truly great last reel theatrics, “The Expendables” would’ve very surely lived up to its to title. But if brainless fun, over-the-top action, and yeah, a little a bit of skin are what you are really looking for, you might just want to watch the “Machete” red band trailer and let it tide you over until September 3rd when you can watch that film instead. [C-]
