Danny Trejo is the reigning king of the B's. And I'll watch anything he's in, no matter how poorly-written, no matter how amateurishly-directed, and no matter how ridiculously, incoherently edited.
And that's the sloppy road Nick Lyon haphazardly lays for the undemanding fan of very familiar plots. So if you really don't care about utterly absurd, incredibly illogical, and comically lazy story lines, the entry-level acting might not even register. But on the way to the traditional "Commando"-like action-movie denouement every 12-year-old boy expects, you'll ask yourself:
Why is there always a long-haired, German super-villain lieutenant in organized crime? How did Frank Marasco's car just happen to be where he needed it? How can two bad guys with handguns out-shoot a squad of body-armored, assault- rifle-toting cops? Why am I watching this to the predictable end?
Well, I can at least answer the last question: so you can hear Danny Trejo bark the immortal line, "This is America! Speak Mexican!"
And that's the sloppy road Nick Lyon haphazardly lays for the undemanding fan of very familiar plots. So if you really don't care about utterly absurd, incredibly illogical, and comically lazy story lines, the entry-level acting might not even register. But on the way to the traditional "Commando"-like action-movie denouement every 12-year-old boy expects, you'll ask yourself:
Why is there always a long-haired, German super-villain lieutenant in organized crime? How did Frank Marasco's car just happen to be where he needed it? How can two bad guys with handguns out-shoot a squad of body-armored, assault- rifle-toting cops? Why am I watching this to the predictable end?
Well, I can at least answer the last question: so you can hear Danny Trejo bark the immortal line, "This is America! Speak Mexican!"