I am currently more than a little bummed out.
I woke up early this morning, ran to my local multiplex, dropped fifteen bucks on a 3D matinee ticket expecting to get my mind blown by my favorite lunatic, Nicolas Cage, and my favorite lunatic directing team of Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor, the men responsible for Crank and Crank 2. I expected that the urinating fire sequence I'd already seen would be merely the jumping off point of an insane 90+ minutes. I expected more than Cage turning into a motorcycle-riding, damned-soul-collecting skeleton on fire, because I got that in the first movie. I expected molten crazy from a story about Ghost Rider saving a holy-born child from turning into the Antichrist. And if you're the kind of person ready to go see something like this then that's what you would be expecting, too.
And I got... I don't know... not enough. Of anything.
This is a worse feeling than sitting through something you assume will be another empty Hollywood template filled with connect-the-dots action, plot and emotion. And it's a worse feeling because I know that Cage, at this point in his career, represents the badass rejection of taste and quality, a man who seems bent on devouring all the B-movie roles he can and vomiting them back into the faces of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. And I like that about him. I like that about him quite a bit.
I also know that Neveldine and Taylor can't possibly be this lazy. It feels like they've been shackled somehow. Maybe it was the low budget, the eastern European location, the stifling quality of an imposed PG-13 rating, or maybe Eva Mendes passing on the script and Richard Carpenter objecting to them using his former band's music this time around. Who knows what, really, but when these guys can't make you holler from surprise, something is wrong.
Yes, there's a certain amount of fun here for Divinity school students. They'll enjoy the parlor game of sorting out the baffling theology of a Satan-owned motorcyclist who wants to use his powers for good. And there are a couple of action sequences that earn their keep. And that's all. It stubbornly refuses to go balls-out. Every chance it gets it squanders. And it makes me feel cheated and sad. Like I want to go write a song for Adele to sing about it. So please, people involved, don't do us wrong no more. Make Werewolf Women of The S.S. or something. Anything. Just no more of this snoozy bulls#!*.