Yo! You better watch where you’re stepping if youse knows what I’m saying, just saying. Unless you want a BULLET TO THE HEAD! Welcome to a totally ludicrous journey into the debacle of what Stallone is willing to accept as faded machismo and an actual finished movie. It’s incredulous to believe this disjointed mismatched series of underacted, flash colored, bad audio, string of mistakes made it out of the cutting room. Start the Stallone lip snarl now., with a huff of breath from the chest.
I was hesitant to review this movie, because it would mean revisiting the crash site of my mind where Bullet To The Head crushed my frontal lobe and parked its nasty prehistoric images. That area of my brain will need steam cleaning for eternity.
Stallone is some sort of hit man for hire, who he works for, how, or why is never really clear. His partner or willing victim for the usual my partner was murdered, rage plot, is killed by a brutish bull of a hit man, hired to take them both out. Why? I don’t really know. The need to know is covered up with mute anger. Something about covering up someones tracks because Stallone’s working for god knows who, and they are paranoid or just plain as aggressively insane as everyone is in this movie. No one in this mutant of a flick was breast fed as a baby and they are still really pissed about it.
The only redeeming quality of this descent into cartoon mugging and movie tripe is trying to figure out what has happened to Stallone’s face. In previous EXPENDABLES movies, there were some seriously freakish distortions to Stallone’s facial alignment. I was shocked that he made that movie without waiting to check his facial reconstruction before shooting. Don’t they give you a mirror after the surgical procedures? Maybe a hand mirror, I mean it’s expensive work, someone hand the gentleman a mirror. Or get a fair opinion from someone nearby. Hey nurse, com on, get in here! What douse you think a dis? Look closely, do I looks weird to youse?
But I think they may have fixed the aberrations and molded his flesh to it’s appropriate caricature level. Stallone looks like a plastic doll of himself. An eerie apparition of what Stallone would look like if recreated in wax or had become an embalmed zombie. It’s a question that always interjects itself into every scene. “What is wrong, with his face? I don’t understand it. He looks okay but somethings off.” Not as OFF as in The Expendable, that was just freak show. Scary, what in the world? There’s that Mickey Mouse, Micheal Jackson vibe soaking the air. But enough talk of money buying you time on the screen with European surgeons, back to the illiterate cartoon BULLET TO THE HEAD.
An out of his element Korean cop trips over Stallone and for some inexplicable reason decides to partner up with an obvious convict and murderer. And Stallone hates cops, he can smell them, he hates them so much. Get it? He smells them, like they are bacon or something. And he hates the smell, though I never met anyone that hates the smell of bacon, even though I don’t eat pig flesh, it’s a filthy animal. Hold on, that’s a line from a better movie. Still I would think Stallone would love bacon.
Opening scenes show the Korean cop standing around aimless, near a bridge somewhere. There is no wide shot, I don’t know what he is doing, where he is going or how he got there. It looks like a bad Instagram shot with quirky GIF movement.
Sudden FLASH cuts and freezes in the editing scream amateur. I am not sure if Stallone is trying to be edgy, copy a very bad Tarantino copy, or is attempting the Instagram pedestrian look. Audio and voice overs are horribly stilted, waning in and out of the story without reason.
The movie is disjointed with broken hard cuts and burn in colors. After the erratic jumping around slows, the Korean cop and Stallone search for, well I think they are searching for the killer of Stallones partner. Awww, Stallone has a soft spot, for his dead mentally deranged partner. Is that believable? No!
And why the Korean cop is there with Stallone or why he needs him is incomprehensibly. As strange as the banal prehistoric alpha male one liners designed to make anyone with grey matter larger than a dog cry out in pain.
So to soften things up and heat up this corpse of tight clips strung on a reel. Stallone’s wild child, too cool, tattooed daughter shows up in a bathtub parading a mild glimpse of her bosom. Not too much, we don’t want to ruin the good hate on we got going. No worries (Sarah Shahi) Lisa is tough as nails, her tats prove it and she isn’t on screen long.
But thanks to the wonders of the internet, speed nude was retrieved. What was lost to the naked eye is NAKED to the internet. I missed these moments completely, could I have nodded off?
Also unknown to me but revealed by the glory of google. This titular moment does raise the bar of the Stallone travesty by at least a heartbeat, though these scenes are very fast as the blurry images show. The reveal is poignant to realize that Sarah’s contribution is more than mere victim to draw Stallone out into the usual trap.
What the real astonishing reality of this movie is that it was directed by Walter Hill! Yes Walter Hill and if you don’t know who he is, I will provide a link to his long list of accomplishments. Which include the amazing 1978 version of The Driver!! It’s seriously perplexing to see Mr. Walter Hill put out this level of discomfort in a movie.
Suddenly it looks like they have been in New Orleans the entire movie. It isn’t until about a third of the movie has tortured me, that I begin to see signs of a city recognizable and I begin to understand where they are. Following leads from the Korean’s cop’s mobile, up the criminal food chain. Heading towards Christian Slater sadly racked smack in the middle between Stallone and the Bullman who killed Stallone’s partner.
Why Stallone cares about revenge for his partners death is again another quandary. Stallone doesn’t seem to give a damn about anyone and there is zero evidence that he should or would want to care about his sleazy tag along, half wit of a partner who was on the screen for a brief moment.
So a series of grunts delivered in a car with bad blue screen and too many tight shots lead to a party where Stallone happily kills Slater with a rifle, point blank while Slater is tied to a chair. Now that is called self defense in this slaughter house of ripped triceps and ultra thick necks.
Korean cop “You just don’t kill a guy, like that”
Stallone grunts “I just did” tilted thick neck and broken synapses lurch out the words from between curled lip.
By Stallone’s fantastic logic everyone should either be dead or on their way to dead by his hand. He’s a guy looking for a fight even in the shower.
Maybe especially in the shower, since Stallone manages to kill a crook in a Turkish bathhouse. Stallone looks impish with his bloated top body and thin legs falling out from his towel only scenes.
So you know how it goes, some more grunting and snarling with Stallone’s frozen face. Some racial slurs, a few explosions, and the yawning inevitable end scene of revenge against the Bullman in an axe battle ending with the bad guy dead. Stallone triumphantly retains his preadolescence macho insecurities and swaggers to the end of the set.
“Ok. We pushed out another one before, that should make a few quick bucks. Lets move on”
Thank god because it would wreak the heavens if this caricature of Stallone’s ever managed to evolve as Clint Eastwood’s has in GRAN TORINO.
The banal telegraphed, txted and emailed ending of the Koren cop dating Stallone’s daughter rankles Stallone and if there was more running time I am sure he would have killed them both for breaking the 1940’s moral code of ethnic separation of the races.
It was a struggle to finish watching Bullet To The Head, it almost killed me.
Bang, down, owned.