I'm not going to break down this movie. It's one of those movies where you leave offended that the makers of the film thought, we the audience, were in the mood for something that lacked plot, character development, or even general coherence. Yet I suppose I enjoyed it. For all the wrong reasons of course, which for me are sometimes all the right reasons. There was something about it though that made me not think it was as fun as Wicker Man or Bangkok Dangerous. I mean the scene where Nicolas Cage stands rigidly staring at a burning oil drum while David Morse and Amber Heard try desperately to further the plot through stilted, pointless dialogue was hilarious and surely not meant to be but there was something in the tone of most of the movie that hinted at the possibility that they knew they were making a shitty movie and were sort of reveling in it. It seemed to be taking a lot of cues from Machete. I didn't care for Machete all that much either but at least it was first in what is hopefully not a slew of self intentionally ridiculous action movies. The real horror of the movie though is that I now fear that Nicolas Cage is on the verge of becoming self aware. I'm more afraid of that than I am of singularity.