Half Past Dead (2002)

[Steven Seagal's] trademark limb-breaking is absent.

It's quite slick, but Seagal's fans won't necessarily get what they paid for.

Look upon his fleshy neck, his dodgy hair and his strangely puffy immobile face, ye pantywaist liberals, and tremble!

It's absolutely worthless nonsense that's almost bad enough to make me wish cinema had never been invented.

Half Past Dead translated from Latin means 'Die Hard in a prison,' or so the filmmakers must have believed.

Waaay too much like hard labour.

Once upon a time Seagal's fighting made him look pretty deadly. These days he's looking way past dead.

Here's yet another deafening, preposterous action movie created for extremely undemanding audiences that don't care about logic and coherence.

The movie doesn't even work as a vehicle for Ja Rule, who's perfectly likable but gets lost in the hullabaloo of helicopter crashes, hostage negotiations, and assault weapons.

Some of Seagal's action pictures are guilty pleasures, but this one is so formulaic that it seems to be on auto-pilot.