I am a huge John Cena fan, so I'm not writing this just to pick on him. But "The Marine" is the worst film I've ever seen, and I've made a habit of seeing bad films.
*May contain SPOILERS* The short version: See John shoot. Shoot, shoot, shoot. See John run. BOOM! Run, John, run. See John drive. See John swim. Swim, swim, Boom! Run, swim, hit, BOOM, hit, hit, kiss - The end.
The long version: I'll skip the cheesy opening credits and the bizarre soundtrack (which at more than one point seems to be channeling Celine Dion). The movie was supposedly directed by one John Bonito; I wouldn't say that the movie was directed so much as it wandered along aimlessly, occasionally bumping into scenery. Even the scenery refused to "act" (Queensland, Australia is NOT South Carolina, Mr. Bonito). Mr. Cena ambles along through the famous jungles of "South Carolina," occasionally stopping to glance around, never conveying the slightest hint that he might actually be thinking something. Five minutes into the movie, I apologized to the friend I dragged along with me to see it. Ten minutes into it, I officially began imagining a completely different movie. By the end, I no longer cared who lived. I wouldn't have minded if the characters had simply begun shooting themselves, just so that we'd all be put out of our misery.
I wanted this to be a fun movie - I like a fun, cheesy action film as much as the next person - but this movie didn't even try. I was so disappointed ... Mr. Cena, you owe me $9.50!
*May contain SPOILERS* The short version: See John shoot. Shoot, shoot, shoot. See John run. BOOM! Run, John, run. See John drive. See John swim. Swim, swim, Boom! Run, swim, hit, BOOM, hit, hit, kiss - The end.
The long version: I'll skip the cheesy opening credits and the bizarre soundtrack (which at more than one point seems to be channeling Celine Dion). The movie was supposedly directed by one John Bonito; I wouldn't say that the movie was directed so much as it wandered along aimlessly, occasionally bumping into scenery. Even the scenery refused to "act" (Queensland, Australia is NOT South Carolina, Mr. Bonito). Mr. Cena ambles along through the famous jungles of "South Carolina," occasionally stopping to glance around, never conveying the slightest hint that he might actually be thinking something. Five minutes into the movie, I apologized to the friend I dragged along with me to see it. Ten minutes into it, I officially began imagining a completely different movie. By the end, I no longer cared who lived. I wouldn't have minded if the characters had simply begun shooting themselves, just so that we'd all be put out of our misery.
I wanted this to be a fun movie - I like a fun, cheesy action film as much as the next person - but this movie didn't even try. I was so disappointed ... Mr. Cena, you owe me $9.50!