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"Stone Cold" Steve Austin stars as Jack Conrad, an American on death row for murder in El Salvador. Without notice, he's flown to Papua New Guinea and dropped on a remote island along with nine other condemned prisoners. They're each wearing an explosive device on their ankles. If they tamper with it or pull the attached red tab, it will explode.

Continue reading: The Condemned Review

Lock, Stockis in fact, probably the best film since Pulp Fiction in which there are no really good guys. Pulp Fiction, Lock, Stockbegins with what would seem to be a simple story, that quickly careens out of control. In this case, four buddies; Tom, Eddie, Bacon, and Soap, pool their money together to back can't lose Eddie at an unbeknownst-to-them rigged game of cards. Of course they get fleeced, and end up in heavy debt to the local heavy. What follows is a madcap plan to recoup the money by intercepting a heist Eddie has fortuitously discovered his neighbor is carrying out. The interrelation of the problems with the original heist, along with the interception of it by Eddie's gang, and a couple of other local illegal activities result in a frantic circle of destruction.

Continue reading: Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels Review

The film presents a snapshot of the hotel and its inhabitants, looking into a night filled with murder and gluttony in the doldrums of a desolate world. Tommy (Donnie Montemarano) and Mick (Vinnie Argiro) are two life-long friends from Brooklyn, in their early sixties, who have made their way as crooks. Tommy has just been released from prison, and Mick has brought him back to the hotel, where he surprises his buddy with a story of how he has gone clean. No more crime, booze, or floozies for Mick, who has saved up enough dough for the both of them to get on a bus at 7 a.m. the next morning to head for a new start in Vegas. But a mischievous Tommy, anxious after seven years in the pen, gets into some trouble after being propositioned by the seductive Amber (Natasha Lyonne). Amber is a "whooore," as Tommy refers to her with his thick Brooklyn accent, and part of a small prostitution ring run by Rodan (Vinnie Jones) from within the building. After the encounter, Tommy finds that he has compromised Mick's plans for Vegas and must somehow avoid the twisted Rodan in order to make his escape.

Continue reading: Night At The Golden Eagle Review

Starring a bunch of nobodies, leavened with a few clever star cameos, and written and directed by guys you've never heard of, Eurotrip wastes no time with the setup and getting its young stars to Europe. Upon graduating from high school, Scotty (Scott Mechlowicz) gets dumped by his girlfriend (Smallville's Kristen Kreuk), who then makes out with the lead singer of the band playing at the graduation party (an oddly-placed Matt Damon, lip-synching a song called "Scotty Doesn't Know"). Simultaneously, Scotty discovers that his German e-mail pen pal, whom he thought was a guy, is actually an extremely hot blonde. Unfortunately, drunk and despondent, he has just told her to stop writing (thinking it was a guy coming on to him). Spiritually devastated, Scotty decides to head across the Atlantic with his friends - requisite crazy guy Cooper (Jacob Pitts), nerd Jamie (Travis Wester), and Jamie's tomboy sister (Michelle Trachtenberg) - to seek the Aryan beauty of his dreams.

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Director Dominic Sena seems to fancy himself some kind of John Woo Jr. But John Woo ("The Killer," "Hard Boiled" and more recently "Face/Off" and "M:I-2") is an action genius who has a gift for turning gun battles into ballet and explosions into art.

Sena ("Gone in 60 Seconds") couldn't care less about art as long as his computer-enhanced mega-blasts are as big, as orange, as slow-motion and as debris-filled as possible. And if he can throw in an innocent hostage being blown apart, so much the better.

After beginning with an ironic but incredibly smug speech by film buff bad guy John Travolta about how Hollywood makes such crappy movies, the opening sequence of "Swordfish" fulfills all Sena's high-gloss, low-brow requirements -- pretty much proving Travolta's point.

Continue reading: Swordfish Review