And that's all there is - admiringly consistent in the perfection of its extravagance - a top execution of a conglomeration of everything we've witnessed before in similar super-action flicks.
Stalone is part of a team of super tough, super lucky pros for hire who in this case engage in warring conflicts in a troubled, fictitious Latin country where the good guys (and gals) are tough but really good, and the bad ones are equally tough but as bad as possible. No in betweens; this movie is painted entirely in stark black & white, from the characters to the action & its resolution. Tough, tough, tough. Hard, hard, hard. Even the good guys are covered in tattoos, chomp cigars, sneer & sweat a lot, speak in pithy phrases ("Let's have dinner." "Sure, when?" Two thousand years." "Too soon for me.") while the baddies compete in kind.
The lame, familiar plot is punctuated periodically with epic explosions, street chases, ammo-loaded confrontations while the macho men (all Stalone clones) join half a dozen familiar action actors (Mickey Rourke, Jet Li, Dolph Lundrin, Jason Stratham, Bruce Willis, and - honest! - Arnold Schwartzinger), most of them in needless cameo roles to spice up the act.
Stalone knows the route well and he knows how to top some of the most vile, most noisy, most rapidly paced moments he's experienced in past epics - and he delivers them with explosive gusto. But it's still nothing more, just an hour & a half of what we have come to expect from him, enough to please his macho craving crowd. (Grade: C+)