Mean Guns Reviews

On the long list of Quentin Tarantino knockoffs, MEAN GUNS ranks near the nadir. Pretentious, stylistically vacuous, and numbingly brutal, this cartoonish ode to violence eschews logic, flirts with self-parody, and embraces cliches. On the eve of the opening of a maximum security prison, syndicate spokesperson Vincent Moon (Ice T) commandeers the facility for a one-night-only killing competition in which the survivior (or survivors) will split a $10,000,000 bounty. The contest is secretly sponsored by the Mob, which actually expects no one (including Moon) to survive; all are being punished for disloyalty to their employers. Pooling their resources, pragmatic Marcus (Michael Halsey), super cool Dee (Kimberly Warren), and loose cannon Lou (Christopher Lambert) decide to better their chances with a fourth partner, Cam (Deborah Van Valkenburgh), who has photographic proof of Moon's many crimes. In yet another rule violation, nutty Lou brings along Lucy (Hunter Doughty), a little girl he kidnapped to replace his own daughter. Among the cut-throats slugging it out with Lou's quartet are Hoss (Yuji Okumoto) and Crow (Thom Mathews), bloodbrothers whose bond is tested by Hoss's attraction to gun moll Barb (Tina Cote). A series of skirmishes levels the playing field until only the major players remain. By lying about having located the loot inside the prison, Lou's bunch entraps and ambushes their gullible rivals. Foolishly deserting her compatriots, greedy Dee is killed before she can locate the bonanza. When Marcus finds the money, he removes and hides it, booby-trapping one briefcase. Hoss and Crow kill each other in an argument about trust, leaving Barb free to nab the explosive-laden briefcase, which blows her up. Marcus critically wounds Lou and then outdraws Moon. Before he expires, Lou retaliates by killing Marcus. Sole survivor Cam collects the money and leaves with Lucy, for whom she will be a surrogate mother. Even if viewers can survive MEAN GUNS' deafening barrage of bullets, florid but sterile dialogue, and bug-eyed acting, the overlong film will drive them crazy with its exploitation of L'il Lucy as a symbol of innocence. Relying too heavily on catchy Perez Prado dance music to enliven an enervating presentation, the film comes off like a music video financed by the Gunrunners of America. Endless dialogue about redemption and paying for past transgressions makes no sense, given that all the protagonists are conscienceless killers. Nor does the cast possess the savoir faire needed to combine tongue-in-cheek ripostes with predatory menace. The worst offenders are Ice T, who emerges as a gangsta caricature with denture slippage, and Christopher Lambert, who resembles a demented refugee from the German band Kraftwerk. In the final analysis, MEAN GUNS plays like a Road Runner cartoon laden down with an inappropriately nihilistic sensibility. (Graphic violence, extreme profanity.)