Originally published on metropolis.co.jp on October 2010

The Expendables: ©2010 ALTA VISTA PRODUCTIONS, INC.

“The Disposables” might be a better title. Writer/director/star Sylvester Stallone (a concept scary in itself) has assembled an impressive crew of aged beef for this desperate, self-conscious, preposterone-fueled romp. Sly is joined by Rocky’s old nemesis Dolph Lundgren, who has reportedly been indicted on charges of aggravated overacting. Then there’s Jet Li, whose character’s name is (I am not making this up) “Ying Yang,” Terry Crews (“Hale Caesar”), Randy Couture (“Toll Road”) and Steve Austin, a minion. There’s a cameo by Bruce Willis, and even a walk-on by the Governator. What I want to know is how the hell can you dare make a movie like this without Wham-Bam Van Damme and the fat guy—what’s his name—Seagal? Jason Statham puts in the least embarrassing performance. Faint praise. And then Mickey Rourke comes along and screws things up by actually acting. Jerk. If action movies were judged on casting alone, this violent, crude and gory effort would get raves. But if these veterans were replaced with unknowns, it would hardly rate a DVD release. Zero coherence, no identifiable storyline, fast-edited fight sequences that are more frustrating than fun, B-grade villains (Eric Roberts—ho-hum), not even any good one-liners. This bloodbath isn’t just stupid; it’s stoopid.