EXPENDABLES 2 : Conventional Microwaves

Not even the most expensive movie in the history of TV movie blockbusters, Clear History, (Or Rumor Has It 2) can touch the equal opportunity employment motivational pizazz of Expendables 2.

Yes, Larry David continues to redefine damage control after decades of Woody Allen intolerance, but, at the end of the day, Larry really kills nobody.

Not so with Expendables 2. These heroes don't use bombs and they're not above wrecking others with their personal property to prove it.

These heroes believe in conventional warfare and the first-strike capabilities of detterence and definitely definitely speak English as a second language as well as they speak English as a first language.

But Expendables 2 is more than a blockbuster -it's a carefully constructed Atombomb of movie – it's a performance art movie – and totally fit for the mute, subtitled censorship of bar and gym TV screens everywhere since it features – more than anything else – forced nonchallance and the greatest performance artists of performed nonchallance in the microwave era.

Which means, through its awkwardness, it would be a great replacement for most of network news programming, commemorating the death of honor and the beginning of lies in the industry of lies – first strike conventional warfare.

So yeah, Expendables 2 represents the death kneel of the cult classic as the full-on Hollywood protest flick and really marks the first time Americans have ridiculed the vanity of speech-acts in the mobile nuclear era since Denzel Washington screwed everyone in the Meg Ryan classic, 'Courage Under Fire.'

Why do you think Dolph Lundgren gets a laugh?

Perhaps no other piece of performance art has captured the overall borishness of the self-publishing age. We live in a post-karate world where the foot to the face needs Scott Adkins and a knife and a diet to really impress anyone anymore now that Mixed Martial Arts has proven that grapling rules.

Simon West masterfully delivers... performance art... as a blockbuster... that is cult... to the globe... as a message... to the stars... that insures a continuation of what will surely be known as the cult American franchise of the past in the future!

Revenge is personal and if people think that hard men are bad for spreading evil to live in the world, they might consider that they are the energy crisis they claim to be fighting by taking anything before the lives of those green revolutionaries of the Nukes that spread this pronoun fusion in politics, microwarves, Fukushimakon!

THE DARK KNIGHT RISES : Pacific Fallout

It took a Down-Under Common-Wealth English-Speaking Brit to screw up Gotham but good.

The trailer of this Dark Knight installment features a flying nuclear car and that was enough to drive the crazed crazy in this post-Fukushima Pacific Fallout world that the laptop literate live in, but the ocean-travelling desert dweller Director Noland, it seems, was aiming his billion-dollar-a-babylonian-bing franchise squarely at the worst comic book ever written: a graphic novel!

Nuclear Batman spawned by perverted Joker might not have had such a violently negative reception if it didn't represent the ninja talents of the greatest actor of the British-speaking world: Christian Bale!

And the last thing people want to see is life imitating the last generation of art!

But I've said too much. Noland's Dark Superman D.C. universe is in peril and the last thing I want to see stolen is an idea after having to remember that some Eurasian South African named Blomkamp scalped the self-destruction navigational concept from The Light Speed Documentary to the Damon of Matthew to provide Elysium with a third act!

Which is why the movie industry reprojected Batman Vs. Superman for May 2016.

21.

The Dark Knight Rises is a cautionary tale with a Nuclear Bomb without Japan, explaining its extreme worldwide popularity in Imperial Cuniform.

It does a good job delivering a Cat Woman and reimagining the Columbian Muscle-lord Bane as another anarchic Brit that would rather wreck the world than take a rain-check to use his mystical romance language to push crime rather than the Bible's end.

But more than its believe-it-or-not sepia-toned billion dollar box-office, it sets the tone for D.C.'s animated take-over of HBO with The Dark Knight Returns continued rip-off of the worst graphic-novel of all time, AKA 'Nuclear Batman,' AKA, 'Superman Vs. Batman.'

The ending sucks; there are mutants without superpowers; the only premise in the story at every step of the way is that we are dead!

So remember everyone: dying isn't optional!

Keep the faith; this Bruce Wayne tried even though this Dark Knight is a deeply sandy, radioactive, televised water-sport beneath anything that stands for the District of Columbia and far behind anything as scientific as the Big Bang. 

THE AVENGERS : A-Holiness

Rachel Maddow is all that's missing from this movie that can even produce a super spy without a Russian accent seriously.

As if on cue, Hollywood reports that a man in a metal suit will save the day yet again and throw the Nuclear Holocaust into a parrallel universe to keep it from completely destroyed – our world!

Too bad Marvel couldn't afford the Peacock of cable-land to telegraph to us the many splendored reasons why this was scientifically impossible!

Yes Marvel is slowly cracking the Thor code and once it sufficiently promotes interstellar life as immortality there really won't be much hope for literacy as the onset of the Red Storm Jupiter syndrome petrifies harmonic denial for all time with the likes of hot female voice actors like Mila Kunis and hot mail spelt Channing of Tatum to remind Saint John euphemisms that Americans come Avenger because, 'a,' really does stand for a hole as much as a hipster even if it is spelled, 'venger!'

But before America descends into the All Is Lost madness of flying aircraft carriers, multi-hull boats and boner mutations called the Hulk, it promises an end to a parallel universality that might as well be called cancer and the nuclear bomb with the nuclear plant that somehow only results in interstellar dragons that don't ex-hale fire like civilized pacifists because they are not explicitly called Fukushima faggots.

But at least Marvel finally finds its brand tone with the casual presentation of heroism as a surviving miracle in a miraculous world rather than a monopolizing High School in High School Universe so expensive that Rachel Maddow know doubt would find it momentary!

So finally Marvel does the dictionary to define capitalist in American casual hero that always does their homework in private to defend public consumption of the facts and for the facts until death do us part forever and ever Amen!

All in all, the blond Steve Rodgers is barely missing as cavorting Tony Stark battles his immature stereotype to grow into the pretty-classic Iron Man 3 as he battles the fully-operational-battle-station potential of a well-acted and well-written Thor which seems to be in the sands of time unlike Hawkeye who is real.

ALL IS LOST : Strawberry Blond

The Blackrock produced greatest blockbuster of all time says it all; once you go black, you can't go back. Consider it upward mobility, moving from the smaller consciousness of daylight to the unlimited time of space itself, which is a hyphenate – space-time – and probably lasts forever.

And so Hollywood lays to rest America's greatest little post-Audie-Murphy star before Tom Cruise, reminding the world the life is a struggle against the never-ending elements that signify death when a slightly better ship pulls you from the drowning darkness of a ring a fire set ablaze on the endless ocean, you should know that ship is probably Tom Cruise.

Since the cancerous disaster of Fukushima began infecting the world in 2011, Sylvester Stallone has valiantly dealt with the evils of nuclear trade: so has, of course, Jean Claude Van Damme and Bruce Willis – who did it twice – making Arnold Szwarzenegger's contribution a work in progress. The last Batman attacked the Nuclear industry as rogue and fruitless and at least one of the great Mexican directors made clear that the world-consuming leviathan was leaking from the Pacific and needed a nuclear anti-dote.

Well no one splits the atom finer than old strawberry blond: Robert Redford – not even Stan Lee who oversaw Marvel's concentration on the nuclear holocaust with the billion-dollar Avengers – not even Shane Black who visited the nuclear-powered potential of cancer as a charming introduction to special hell for the crime of destroying the planet Earth.

This feature length presentation of America's greatest example of the ultimate loner shows that a floating piece of diggable planet can quickly turn the greatest maritime power the world can remember into a starving and delusional suicidal maniac that dies dreaming of meeting a slightly better navigator of space-time to complete his upward mobility instead of abandoning the world to test the tides of time and the jet-black Tom Cruise.

So the Sundance Kid should orient East Eastern Asian world powers to save the world before it goes down the drain thanks to this – the greatest blockbuster ever.

So let us remember the director who followed the Strawberry Sun.

He separates the world into the dying and the dead.  

PACIFIC RIM : Too Big To Eat

There is a lot of good in Guillermo Del Toro’s, ‘Pacific Rim.’ It’s practically all good, but it’s a Japanese German nuclear energy story, so its faults are melodious to be sure: ‘The toilet, the bitch line, the 50,000 feet.’

Like the last Bond which I had to see at an undisclosed location for fear that my life would be danger for seeing a movie that falls into the Batman 1 billion category, Pacific Rim takes all the glory and realism of a losing fight out its story one time two often at about once.

Still, the Idris Alba turns in clip after clip of stellar acting understatements in what will surely be hailed as a lifetime achievement Golden Globe clip of clips due to its lovely encapsulation of the loveable roughneck.

And overall, it’s an old-school adventure story about choosing what’s important over what’s exportant.

Which reminds me, the Japanese version of the dirge to Del Toro went something like this: ‘Analog Nuclear Toilet Bitchline the 50,000 feet now worm hole.’

All that is just to say that this movie fails science at least twice at crucial moments to distract you from an organic monster the size of an aircraft carrier that predated the dinosaurs and hatched its young out of its brain, which might explain why one of them has the special power of sending out an EMT.

So the movie holds together; Ron Pearlman dies and there is enough science teased in through a slow moving tale of fortitude and one-on-one drama that is stunning to watch and quite possible I might add.

Just read the second chapter of the cinema fear monger Jack Malinowski’s ‘The Light Speed Documentary,’ and you’ll see why if you have a distaste for worm-hole science.

The Light Speed Documentary was published a full year-and-half before the quote-unquote-300-million-dollar-grossing ‘flop,’ and details why the premise of the movie is quite sound as worm holes might represent down-loads of zipped space hewn from the botnets of current space-traffic.

In any case, as the world reels from Nuclear standstill to standstill it bears recollection that nuclear electric robots are online: much like Malinowski’s precious little 2012 book presaging the dangers of inter-special mind-meld.

The film, in a word, deserves a gentleman’s B+ if only for reminding me that leviathan is plural and that they are probably furious finding the blue planet of tiny morsels, making a meal impossible and leading to their stupid brawny matches with inedible metal robots as their only psychological choice.

So do us all a favor and forget Marvel's current nuclear franchise of Spiderman built on a lanky actor that doesn’t know nothing and take in Pacific Rim a film that doesn't complain about the nuclear age if you catch my drift then you know it's big enough to eat. 

THE EXPENDABLES : Dorian Yates' Cabinet

Now this is B movie. Nobody's under age and everyone seems to know exactly what they mean if not exactly what they're saying. Sylwester Stalone, for example, commands the courage few of his countrymen care to posses by selling the tried and true genre of the American mercenary. Otherwise known as the soldier of fortune, the Round Trip Mercenary is rich in the intelligence of others by definition. American melodrama may have plateauxed there for a while in the teenagers but tough as nails movie stars do continue to reason to exist and that reason confers hokey ho-hos in deadly situations.

Confused on the appropriate use of violence? Unsure of the caliber of sentimentalism, sarcasm, fair play, machismo, or I told you so? Never heard of the coke commando? Don't know which Swedish country the Emperor of Europe hails from? Never had Lite Beer? Sick of pushee-shouvee, touchee-feelee basketball hipsters? Don't think redundancy is ever funny? Seeing this movie should clear your head - especially if you believe that the gentleman hero tends more towards bleeding than humor.

The New School of America has yet to LaGuardia on the scene but suffice it to say, every proud homesteader knows that he is expendable if not quite ever replaceable; therefore, spiritualism is American and 'The Expendables' represents an American offering of explosions and sentimental oneupmanship. Bad men talk nice searching out competition to face in sporty combat. The turn-based action of the movie affords the film possible cult status. To begin with, Jet Lee finally proves he's twice the actor than Tom Cruise by drawing away the veil of pretense and asking for more money in English (as himself). Secondly, a gorgeous strafing 'rye and die' scene eclipses the acoustic merit of 'FUBAR' by dint of difficulty thereby far outstripping the point value of adolescence. Thirdly, Jason Stratham Charlie Bronsons his hat into the Steve McQueen and earnes Kevin Costner status by presenting a valid example of fighting style Leopard. If 3d musicals ever sack up to become dancicles, no Gene Kelly will ever have to rise to replace the urgency of a basketball hooligan beatdown thanks to the immanently civilized Jason Stratham. Thirdly, Terry Crews straight up asks critics of the American action absurd to remember the hard on Christmas: presumably when he might not be holding an automatic missile guided shotgun. Considering that Iron Man got Robert Downey Junior instant Moor status in Operation Thunder, I'd eagerly await a Mel Gibson book of Crews before presupposing that the paucity of Christian holy days would fail a hulking movie star. Fourthly, while mega-talented Dolf Lundgren continues to be sold down river at least he was cast. Fifthly, this is a movie for the single father who knows he shall always be more or less alone. And next to lastly, it features the fourth great oxymoron after romantic - comedy, military - intelligence, C O 2: declined - conservancy.

Perhaps 'The Expendables' are cheesy - perhaps they are too faithful to the TV TeleMundo world they seek to liberate and share too much a sense of suffering but the film features a real monologue from the actor Mickey Rourke. Whatever the philosophical underpinnings of the subjunctive mood rife in 'The Expendables,' Hollywood once again successfully dismembers itself to defend it's thesis that more is more and less is less in an often outrageously obvious idiom that recalls the long forgotten talkie and the immortality of comedy.

PREDATORS : Ein Rasa

The 2010 South Africa World Cup Show Case celebrated the great deltas of the Atlantic - Uruguay, Holland, Germany, and Spain to give Spain it's first victory in the world melting cup. Congratulations to the Peninsula Europa. Congratulations to the Romanced English and his green game of cushy fouldball.

On the whole, it may be said the USA doth protest too much for a nation that believes in employing flying androids to reign airborne destruction on the peoples of the dessert. They must become familiar with the concept of manual overdrive until they attain the art of fouldball, meaning, and Mexico. Yes. Mexico knows, like Muslims, that there is only one race. Some call it 'peace,' some call it 'slim pickings,' and yet most simply call it, 'Ein Rasa;' unfortunately, Robert Rodigruez calls it Predators.

Director Nimrod Antal obviously did decide that change was beautiful and pretended not to cast Carol Weathers. Whereas 'Predator' includes at least three USA Governors, 'Predators' does not seem to employ any. The movie is less thrilling than a gym membership coupon. Adrian Brody, going from scariest North-American ever to most bored box office ever in less than a month, leads a pedestrian lot of killers trying to prove that life is a free fall. Perhaps for his next trick the New Yorker will speaking Spanish. Shane Black had more, bigger muscles than Antal's whole platoon of plot scavengers and far more sweat than Antal's entired smokeless, sweatless, R.J. Reynolds forest. Which is not the Hungarian's fault. Nothing's the Hungarian's fault. There's only one 'Ein Rasa.' Wait till this one comes out in 3D DVD and then ridicule the box for nothing.

P.S.

While we did notice the tremendous Lawrence Fishburne who shows up to playact magnificently, proving that flattery does indeed get one everywhere, the rest of the flabby actors forget to placate and pander, thinking that cool is the hard currency; thus, the writing's bored, boring, and pretentious rather than writhing. Unfortunately it's not even worth going to see it to hear, 'We run - we die!' because not a single US governor - like Carl Weathers - yells it; instead, it's monotuned.

All I can say is once Dolph Lundgren leaped invisibly from tree to tree devouring his enemy, and now Tim Curry lumbers because it hurts more. 

P.P.S. Unfortunately, it's not worth the price of admission to see Topher Grace as a scuzzy psycho doctor get killed even though it might sure be worth imagining how Eddy Brock has all ready beheaded Topher for besmirching his likeness.