And so Arnold Schwarzenegger has returned to the silver screen after his sojourn in the theater of politics. The action star of dozens of blockbusters has wisely chosen for his vehicle a flick that acknowledges that he will not again see 40, nor even 50. Sort of. While this is an Arnold who wears reading glasses and gets winded, he is also an Arnold that can take down the ruthless and very wealthy leader of a drug cartel with, more or less, his bare hands. His accent, it should be noted, is as robust as ever as it intones what it hopes will be a new catch-phrase or two.
He is Roy Owens, the non-Teutonically monikered sheriff of a sleepy hamlet on the Arizona side of the Mexican border, and he is about to have his worst day off ever. Barreling towards him in a souped-up Corvette that can do 200mph is Cortez (Eduardo Noriega), that ci-mentioned drug lord, who has just escaped FBI custody in Las Vega via a nifty caper involving a large magnet, zip lines, and henchman dressed as ninjas. Hot on his trail is Forest Whitaker, the not-amused agent in charge with manpower, guns, planes, helicopters, and satellites at his disposal, none of which slow down Cortez, a charismatic psychopath with a certain dangerous charm, even a whit. In fact, he rather enjoys the havoc that erupts when the Feds try to stop him.
Naturally, everyone on both sides of the law underestimates Ray, not realizing that his back story includes being a narcotics agent in the LAPD with the sort of special training that a character played by Arnold would have. In short order, they learn a valuable lesson about underestimating an aging sheriff in a backwater town who is Arnold.
Director Jee-woon Kim brings a stylish elan to the first part of the film, as it goes through its barely credible yet somehow entertaining paces. There are the stock characters: a green deputy, a beautiful deputy, a seasoned deputy, as well as the befuddled locals, the befuddled FBI agents, the snarling bad guys, and Johnny Knoxville as the local loon and weapons aficionado. Knoxville is the films ham-handed comic relief, yet the wild-eyed idiocy wears thin after the first few minutes and never thickens up again. Its far less entertaining than the few minutes of screen time devoted to Harry Dean Stanton as the cranky farmer, or the ongoing delight of the wily honor bestowed by Luis Guzman as the seasoned deputy.
While the first two acts are fun, the third bogs down in its climactic final confrontation that is a none too subtle commercial for the NRA. Arnold springs about like a man with knee cartilage of a man half his age, which has its own fascinations, but the carnage drags on far too long before exploring the suspenseful possibilities of a corn field ready for harvest. It allows a person to start wondering about the leaps of logic that dont quite make it to the other side, like why, in a film that is slap-happy with guns, there are suddenly none available at a critical juncture when there was nothing preventing an mini-arsenal to be available. And why, without the prompt use of a tourniquet, a knife to the femoral artery isnt fatal.
This is why in a film like this, keeping a breathless pace is so critical. Not even the tag-team of bazooka shots to cars is distracting enough.
THE LAST STAND is hardly the worst film in which Arnold has appeared, and he deserves kudos for (sort of) embracing his age. In the end, though it comes down to this. Cars go fast. Big guns make a lot of noise. Things blow up real good. Expect nothing more than that and a few passable quips for the price of admission.
Your Thoughts?