Monday, April 30, 2007

Muscles And Rifles, Intelligence Not Essential: The Marine

Why do wrestlers make movies? Who started this ugly trend?

Looking back at such films as "Mr. Nanny" and "Santa With Muscles," I can't see where the alure was.

Nowadays it seems fair game for any juggernaut of the padded square to enter the silver screen with little more than a raised eyebrow to his name.

Granted Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson did an admirable performance as a gay man in "Be Cool," but such feats of acting prowess are few and far between in the wrestling world.

Now the WWE has thrown its bedazzled hat into the ring and started financing its own movies.

Lord have mercy on us all.

The newest "champion" of professional beating-the-crap-out-people is John Cena, a 300 pound mammoth of muscle and hate.

I bet he's got a big ol' brain banging around in there too, but you can be skeptical if you'd like.

Cena's fame landed him a sweet deal as the newest muscle-bound hero in "The Marine."

John Cena plays John Triton (these clever writers with their clever names) a marine who disobeys orders and ends up leaving the Corps. His much-too-hot wife (who gives "dumb blonde" new meaning) encourages him to settle down and relax.

So he takes a job as a security guard.

Here we meet the first of many characters without any purpose: The fat friend, aka, the comic relief. This guy does such a poor job of conveying any feeling that he's ditched after only a few scenes.

In fact, the whole security guard sequence has absolutely no purpose, except to show "how hard it is for a trained killer to adjust to society."

But really, the point of this movie isn't the emotional journey Triton must embark upon. It's about explosions.

Hot, nasty explosions that defy the laws of physics.

In fact, this movie is really just about defying physics (which I shall hence refer to as "magic", seeing as I have no idea how they work).

In "The Marine" wind doesn't blow, fire doesn't burn, glass doesn't cut, bullets are just about useless, and no physical harm comes from falling or being hit.

It's amazing people end up dying in this film.

In fact, the only people who are ever injured by bullets are the jihadists in the first scene and the odd bad guy who pisses off the big boss.

In one dazzling sequence, Triton sees his wife being pulled into his van by baddies. He charges at her, only to take a face full of fire extinguisher. Then, as he gets up, the gas station he's fifteen feet away from EXPLODES, throwing him through the convenience store.

When the dust clears, not only is he still sporting an unbroken face, his clothes aren't even singed.

There's not even a dark smudge where the smoke MAY have passed along him.

The entire film continues in this vein. It's not hard to see how folk can get a bad impression of action movies when this is what is being offered.

Another interesting little note is the severe lack of emotion from ANYONE.

Robert Patrick (the T-1000, and I shouldn't have to say what movie) is about the most believable character in the entire film, and he's a cliche spewing bad guy.

The token black man (and yes, he is token and plays his stereotype so humiliatingly that I was embarrassed) has absolutely no point in the film but to say things like "Oh right, blame the black man," or "I hate cops....and rock candy."


In another touching scene, Triton jokingly tells his wife that his father molested him and his brother...and they both LAUGH!

This film is bad. It's cottage cheese five weeks past the expiration date bad. I can't say I'd recommend it to anyone other than die-hard WWE fans who really need the boost.

I have a question I'd like to pose to the writers: Why doesn't Mrs. Triton seem to give a rats ass that her husband DIES about four times in the film?

I mean, a few tears would have been nice. Or some form of emotional expression. Maybe even complaints because SHE'S A HOSTAGE!!!!!!!!!

This film gets a four choke-slams out of twenty seven.

Watch carefully.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

you don't understand badly written lines of dialogue??? What's wrong with you?

I thought you were the kind of guy who could just fart and not need to shit to back it up.