Review Date:
Director: John Singleton
Writer: David Elliot, Paul Lovett
Producers: Lorenzo di Bonaventura
Actors:
Mark Wahlberg as Bobby Andre Benjamin as Jeremiah Tyrese Gibson as Angel |
Add to that, a pretty fun bad guy played with zeal by Chiwetel Ejiofor (you just love to hate this guy), a hot-looking yet extremely annoying Sofia Vergara, plenty of cool 70s tunes and direction by John Singleton, and the film is at its very least, an entertaining way to pass an hour and forty-five minutes on a lazy, winter Saturday night. The film also earns its R-rating with plenty of “real-life” dialogue (“Man, I can drink you under the table” / “Maybe…but we’re not talking about sperm right now.”), nut-busting by all involved, and a nice heap of violence and murders all around. Things definitely go a little kooky near the end, as a machine gun fight in the middle of a Detroit suburb makes you wonder where the fuck the cops are in this town, but I let shit like that go, as I knew that I was only watching a movie, and on the whole, things were “pretty believable” – at least enough for me not to give a shit about the truth and to enjoy the Wahlbergs, the Benjamins and the Tyreses as they charmed the pants off me. Which brings me to the film’s greatest attribute and that being the relationships built among the brothers, as well as the screen chemistry that I felt while watching these 2 black and 2 white “brothers” act like they were family. If my family was half as loving and loyal as these clowns, I’d pick up an uzi and pump some cold lead into skeezy hockey-mask-wearing bad guys as well. Peace!
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