In the end, that's all this film is: flames, flying bullets, and special effects. It could be worse, I suppose, but as long as people go into this film with their eyes open, there shouldn't be any surprises.
Ultimately the script's often sharp social satire is drowned out by the noise and confusion. It is also undercut by casting virtually all the psychopathically murderous criminals as minority-group members.
Not for nothing does the film open on a screen-filling image of the Hollywood sign in flames, for it torches almost every supposition that a film made to showcase Sylvester Stallone and Wesley Snipes whomping on each other can only be brain-dead.