What do you get when you cross Robert De Niro with a load of indiscernible dialogue, wasted talent, unnecessary gunfire, and eighth-grade science fair pyrotechnics? Somehow, this equation should add up to the box office flop known as “Killer Elite.”
Released to theaters on Sept. 23, this much-anticipated, action-packed movie, rated R by the MPAA, was directed by Gary McKendry. Who is that? Exactly. With a cast hosting action-veterans Jason Statham, Clive Owen, and Robert De Niro, it seems like the perfect set up for a substantial box-office seller.
Allegedly based on a true story (I’m still debating that one), the movie revolves around Statham’s character, a special ops retiree, and his mission to rescue his mentor (De Niro) held captive by a dying, Arabian sheik. However, he must assassinate the men who killed the sheik’s three sons in order free his mentor. The movie shows a bunch of killing (given) and interrogation, and somehow, Clive Owen makes it into the film.
To be honest, I had to Google the plot synopsis to even begin this review. Not surprisingly, every critic had extremely different ways of explaining the movie, proving how messed up it is. The whole time I was either confused or apathetic to what was happening.
In fact, it was not until close to the end that I figured out what the main characters’ names were. The protagonists gave me no reason to root for them at all, and at most points, it was difficult to decipher between good and bad. The tagline on many of the publicity posters was “May the best man live.” However, they should have tacked on the end: “—through this entire movie.”
Truthfully, I wanted to like this film, or at least not hate it. I am always up for a good De Niro or Statham flick (keyword, “good”), but this number was just sad. It seems like Hollywood keeps churning out movies to keep their head above water, and for some ungodly reason, people actually pay money to see exactly what these flicks are: the armpit of the film industry.
Maybe I am being too harsh. After all, many could debate the logistics and credibility of a certain vampire series I happen to adore. Personal taste, I suppose.
Reluctantly, I give this film a two-and-a-half out of five chips, and even that is being generous. While it did flop in most areas, I just cannot bear to hate Robert De Niro that much. Perhaps my experience was further ruined by my flat Mr. Pibb or stale, crumbled popcorn I paid $10.75 for. At any rate, that is two hours and twenty minutes of my life I will never get back.
