The Expendables franchise continues to be less of a love letter to the kickass actioners of the 80s and 90s and more of a crude teenage sex poem to the stuff lining the bottom of the Walmart bargain bins. Stallone seems content to just rest on the laurels of the concept, and both times the execution ends up feeling as lifeless as half of the cast's respective leathery faces. Instead of doing something interesting with the established and well-worn conventions and cliches, Sly's just fine with laying down and making snow angels in them. And though tons of shit blows up, none of the action is even any good, which, in this case, is like fucking up the ground beef on a hamburger.
Two massive, massive missed opportunities.