Arnie and Sly have never co-starred in a feature-length movie together, but in Mikael Håfström’s thriller the two old-timers play men who are at the peak of their game. Pause for effect.
Emil (Arnold Schwarzenegger) and Ray (Sylvester Stallone) get thrown together in a high-tech, off-the-grid prison (imagine a fancy-schmancy Abu Ghraib). Emil is an anti-capitalist firebrand. Ray is a security expert with a tragic back-story, paid to discover the weak links in prisons but now, clearly, the victim of a set-up. The two tough guys join forces with a devout, honourable Muslim (Faran Tahir) to get the hell out of their tomb. Which is all very radical and moving but not quite as fascinating as the funny thing that seems to have happened to the top third of Stallone’s body.
His jaw, his profile, his cheeks: so much has changed. Depending on the angle, the 67-year-old now resembles Dean Martin, Burt Lancaster or ... some random guy. Like Frankenstein’s monster, he moves like he’s been welded together — every time he turns his neck, stiffly, you listen out for the sound of grinding nuts and bolts. His droopy eyes alone are recognisable. Droll yet world-weary, they speak volumes about where he’s at.
There are two decent thesps on board: Amy Ryan, as Ray’s spunky, on-the-outside colleague, and Jim Caviezel, as the prison’s anal-retentive, finger-clicking chief. They look like they’re having fun. So does Arnie, a one-note player who plays that one note very well (he seems especially tickled when spouting German — he’s out and proud!). Only Stallone spoils the dumb-fun mood. He wears the stoical gaze of someone who knows he’s being buried alive.
