Another videogame adaptation in which empty avatars run around perfunctorily because that’s what the plot requires of them. There’s no humor, no fizz, no movie magic at all.
Inexcusably self-indulgent. Tarantino gratifies his enormous self-love and his amusement at his own genius at the expense of all else.
Sort of a Xerox copy of the 1987 *Predator,* with the only point perhaps establishing Adrien Brody’s action creds, in case that Oscar for *The Pianist* starts holding him back from getting good work.