One word comes to mind when I think of Sylvester Stallone’s most recent feature ‘The Expendables’ (2010): hysterical. The narrative focuses on a group of hyper-masculine mercenaries that work together to take down General Garza, the dictator of an impoverished, small South American island. Stallone’s penchant for ultra-violence and cartoon-like heroism is more obvious than ever in his most recent film. Forget Stallone’s vigilantism in the ‘Rambo’ franchise and his neanderthal masculinity in the ‘Rocky’ series. This flick is completely and utterly self-aware, a fun spoof of the action genre, much like John McTiernan’s ‘Last Action Hero’ (1993). By the same token, the film is also self-aware in the way that it parodies its ‘hard ass’ cast list. When you band together names like Stallone, Lundgren, Willis, Li, Statham, Rourke, Austin and, wait for it, Swarzenegger, all on the one screen, you know that the film fails to concern itself with plot. Whilst some audiences may have problems with the quality of such a picture, it is this that makes the film likable: its playfulness disguised in violent machismo.
In a nut shell, the acting is horrific. When Jensen takes out an opponent’s torso with one blast of his firearm, in the first few minutes of the film, the audiences immediately knows what it’s in for: explosions and blood, not Oscar-savvy performances. Sylvester Stallone mutters his way through his role as Barney Ross; not a surprise at all. Dolph Lundgren as Gunner Jensen is no different: an intimidating, incoherent meat head that waivers between loyalty and betrayal. Whilst physically lighter, Jet Li as Ying Yang is also a stuttering, babbling mess, but one with awesome martial arts skills. Steve Austin as Paine, despite being more coherent in his dialogue, is hysterically bad in his role as assistant to capitalist/imperialist James Munroe (haphazardly played by Eric Roberts). Austin channels his wrestling machismo into his own threats towards opponents. Whilst extremely cheesy and mind-numbingly stupid, it makes for amusing viewing for those who are aware of his Stone Cold 3:16 wrestling persona. It is this, however, that completely redeems such horrendously bad performances in the film: self-reflexivity. Jason Statham as Lee Christmas, is, basically, a hybridised version of Chev Chelios in the ‘Crank’ series: an embittered anti-hero out for blood. Christmas, like the others in the film, smacks of parody and plagiarism. In this, however, is where Stallone finds his creativity: send-up. In fairness, however, Mickey Rourke as washed-up, trailer trash tattoo artist, Tool, is, in the traditional sense of the word, ‘good’. Tool sheds the odd tear when he talks about a girl he could have saved back in his fighting days. This, by far, is the film’s most ‘serious’ moment. In other words: it’s most dull one! Supporting performances from Terry Crews (that’s right, as Hale Caesar), Randy Couture (yep, as Toll Road), Bruce Willis (uh huh, as Mr. Church) and Arnold Schwarzenegger (as Trench) are equally as hyper-masculine, but equally as amusing too. In the end, Stallone gives us an anti-intellectual, postmodern film about guys and guns. Sounds bad on paper, but it makes for fun viewing on-screen.
Stallone’s most recent flick is a highly entertaining one. It is, however, such low-brow entertainment that it doesn’t just find itself at the bottom of the artistic barrel. Instead, it finds itself scraping the base, seeping through and rotting the wood beneath. Its cheap thrills and explosions, however, is what makes Stallone’s film viewable and likable: it’s just under two hours of amusing crap! Check it out!
(3/5)
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