This curious movie wouldn’t be made today, with its suicide bombers and hijackers. And Seagal (sort of) headlining a motion picture. The good news is he isn’t in it for long, which kind of adds to the charm. Roger Ebert’s review at the time is hilarious, “I perked right up” his description of Seagal’s death. And when a sleazy J.T. Walsh turns up in a film you just know it’s going to be a ludicrous ’90s riot.
It has the most irritating scene and character title intros ever, this digital text at the bottom of the screen with that gimmicky digital noise. You know what I’m referring to? If not, then watch it. This was an age when shite like this was churned out monthly. Almost every single one of these films contains an identical round table discussion of generals/admirals with the lone voice of reason/geeky interloper in the middle. It’s the Golden Age of shite. Before everyone got so sensitive.
Anyway, it’s a highly entertaining hoot, popcorn nonsense for a lazy Sunday.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 