Mike McCahill

The combination of WTF casting and glaring technical limitation proves so distracting you can barely focus on the script’s new intel.

Even narratively, the new film is a dud.

Look beyond the lifelessly choreographed shootouts and you keep catching glimpses of ghosts: those of American industry, yes, but also those of the American action movie, once manufactured with a skill, verve and wit wholly absent from these painfully long 98 minutes.

It proves very much un film de Sandler: so lazy you feel unconscionably guilty for snorting at the three jokes in its two hours that merit any response.