UNCLE DON’S VIEWS OF NIL REPUTE
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There are a couple of flicks out there that pontificate on the
problems of drugs. Both of them have aging stars, aging starlets, way too
much dialogue and lots of money behind their production. One received
lots of Oscar nominations; the other couldn’t find a prize in a packet of
Cracker Jacks.
In both, the good and bad guys eat more lead than a tenement full of
toddlers.
Having suffered through absolutely awful “Traffic” a few weeks ago, I
figured “Exit Wounds” couldn’t scrape any lower than that on the
cinematic food chain. Fortunately I was right.
While the words “bad,” “Steven Seagal” and “movie” all usually run
together as a penultimate oxymoron, “Exit Wounds,” like that movie Seagal
made about the battleship, really wasn’t too shabby. As long as he and
his yap-happy co-actors kept their mouths shut.
Seagal has lost his ponytail, but picked up a chin or two as he plays
a modern day Dirty Harry with more ammo. Rewarded for saving the vice
president by a demotion to some dirt bag precinct, Seagal’s required to
attend some 12-step group for rage-o-holics where he, as one who beats
suspects with cats, can associate with upstanding citizens who toss dogs
out of windows. And meet Tom Arnold, playing a sleazy journalist (aren’t
they all) with a mustache the Frito Bandito would find ridiculous.
As a great no-brainer with plenty of naked women and gratuitous
violence, “Exit Wounds” falls down when these chowderheads open their
mouths. From these orifices is expectorated dialogue such as this
sequence: “The walls have ears.” “I know everything.” “So, why am I
here?” “I don’t have time for this.” Culminating with “I know what I’m
doing.” Bring on the Pukelitzer.
Sure, the acting and screenplay in this “d-oh” brainer stink so much
that one feels like lighting a box full of matches, but my standards are
exceptionally low, my expectations lower still. “Exit Wounds” exceeded
them both.
Seagal doesn’t do much except grunt, glare, and grimace. There are a
few “Matrix” style special effects to go with the huge chunk of his
action scenes shot in shadow. Yo dude, you’re an action hero, dump some
avoirdupois. You’ve got more rolls than a donut shop. Or a Ford Explorer.
From the get-go in the opening scene where a shootout leaves enough
dead bodies lying around to deplete the chalk supply of the Detroit
(where the action is taking place) Police Department to the ending
shootout where the blase locals figure that all of the bullets whizzing,
cars crashing and bodies flying are indicative of just another typical
Saturday night in the Motor City, “Exit Wounds” fits the bill for those
who remain intractably and terminally shallow, vacant, and immature.
*
“Exit Wounds” is rated R.
*
* UNCLE DON reviews b-movies and cheesy musical acts for the Daily
Pilot. He may be reached by e-mail at [email protected]
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