I walked into Armor, the latest installment of cinematic disappointment directed by Justin Routt and featuring the legendary (though increasingly puzzling) Sylvester Stallone, with expectations that were perhaps too generous.
I mean, come on, it’s Stallone! Known for characters that brought us to the heights of action-packed drama, I never could have predicted that we’d be plummeting headfirst into this mess. Stallone leads alongside Jason Patric, Josh Wiggins, and Dash Mihok in what is marketed as an “action thriller,” but I couldn't help but feel that the only thriller was the thrilling sensation of regret for not checking my watch halfway through.
An Asinine Abstraction: The Plot and Storyline
The premise of Armor sounded almost decent—an armored truck heist that spirals into chaos. The film centers on security guard James Brody (Patric) and his son Casey (Wiggins) as they find themselves at the mercy of a gang led by “Rook” (Stallone) during a luxurious robbery involving millions of dollars. However, what was supposed to be a tense cat-and-mouse thrill ride quickly turned into the cinematic equivalent of a flat tire—nobody wants to be stuck there, and I was sure there’d be nothing but reflective silence on the road ahead.
As I painfully observed the events unfold, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the film was rife with plot holes as gaping as the Grand Canyon. Characters made choices so bewildering that I wondered if the writers were playing a game of charades while scripting the dialogue. And don’t even get me started on the continuity errors—was this a heist film or a comprehensive guide to how to lose track of a story? One moment characters would be bickering in the truck, and in the blink of an eye, they’d be engaging in some unintended slapstick fistfight elsewhere, leaving me questioning whether I had slipped into a parallel dimension.
The Acting Abyss: Cast and Performances
Let’s see if we can set the record straight on the abomination that is the acting in this film. I honestly stopped watching halfway through to check if it was really Sylvester Stallone or some lookalike! Stallone, that once-mighty gladiator of action cinema, appeared as though he had indeed lost a bet and was being forced to perform this cinematic travesty against his will. His expressions ranged from confused to outright boredom, as if he were contemplating his life choices instead of living the character arc of Rook. Honestly, it was painful to watch—a once charismatic lead reduced to a mere shadow of his former self, trudging through lines that felt more like a chore than dialogue.
The supporting cast? Oh, where do I start? They were uniformly bizarre, delivering performances that could only be described as “remarkably terrible.” It felt like they came together for a community theater performance gone wrong, each trying so hard to be memorable but instead achieving a level of bad that was almost impressive. Characters appeared on screen with expressions so flat and uninspired that they could’ve been cardboard cutouts. Every attempt at tension or emotional resonance was systematically dismantled by their cheap delivery. The chemistry was non-existent, with each actor seemingly competing on how poorly they could convey their lines.
The hapless characters they portrayed were reduced to thinly veiled clichés—with motivations so wooden, I half-expected them to catch fire. I continually found myself asking if they were intentionally acting poorly just to highlight the absurdity of the situation. It was a tragicomedy to witness—one moment they were trying to scream “high stakes,” and the next they were fumbling through dialogues that sounded like they were written by someone who had never encountered real-life human interaction.
Dialogue Disaster: Script and Dialogue
Speaking of dialogue, it was a whole new level of dreadful. The script felt like a bottom-of-the-barrel collection of lines hastily thrown together in a desperate attempt to assemble coherent thoughts. It was the kind of cringe-worthy writing that made me wonder if the screenwriters had taken a course titled “How to Write Like a Middle Schooler.” Characters uttered forgettable one-liners that fell flatter than a pancake on a Sunday afternoon. At one point, I just had to shake my head in disbelief when Stallone's character delivered a line so nonsensical that it left me scratching my head. This film banked on the idea that fast-paced dialogue could mask the sheer lack of depth, but the writers were clearly auditioning for a place on the Mount Rushmore of terrible cinema dialogue.
The melodrama they attempted was so poorly executed; it made even the worst soap opera look like Shakespeare in comparison. If the goal was to invoke emotion, then congratulations were in order for achieving the exact opposite effect—leaving me in a state of sheer irritation rather than empathy for the characters involved. I found myself cursing at the screen, wishing they would give up on trying to reel us in with emotional faux pas that never landed.
Unbelievable Situations: Unrealistic Situations
The countless, glaring inconsistencies in plot and character choices only served to further alienate an already bewildered audience. My expression was a mixture of confusion and disbelief during pivotal scene transitions, like when a tense encounter on a bridge becomes inexplicably devoid of any other traffic. There’s no doubt that the film demands a heavy suspension of disbelief—but a fancy way of saying you might need to check your common sense at the door would also suffice.
CGI: Smoke and Mirrors, But Mostly Just Smoke"
Let’s take a moment to address the pièce de résistance of this dumpster fire: the CGI. I have genuinely never seen gun battle effects this atrocious in a major motion picture. It’s like they handed the reins to a kid fresh out of a two-week online course on CGI, and he was so eager to impress that he forgot all the basics. The smoking barrels and flashy explosions are supposed to look cool, but they instead scream, "I just graduated, and this is my first project!" The gunfights are riddled with such laughable incompetence that you’d half-expect cartoon sound effects to accompany the action. And somehow, amidst all the visual chaos, they overlooked the most fundamental detail—bullet holes! Honestly, the lack of realism makes the whole experience feel like a cheap video game from the '90s, dragging down whatever semblance of tension they hoped to create. It’s a cringe-worthy spectacle that contributes more to the sheer ridiculousness of Armor than any intended thrills.
An Emotional Fizzle: Themes and Emotional Impact
Themes of family and survival drifted into the realm of forgotten aspirations like the wilting plastic plant on an office desk. I barely felt flutters of emotional resonance; rather, I just felt burdened by the weight of how much time I had wasted. In a feeble attempt to pull at our heartstrings, the film ultimately stumbled and fell flat on its face. For a better take on familial bonds in heist flicks, may I kindly direct you to A Heist with Heart or Father Figures—two vastly superior films that show how it’s done.
Incongruities Abound: Genre and Tone
Within the jumbled mess, it’s hard to pinpoint what genre Armor even claims to inhabit. Is it a heist thriller, a formal comedy masquerading in bad action sequences, or a long-winded infomercial for how not to shoot a film? The overall tone flopped around like a fish out of water, caught between wanting to be serious and ending up as a farce devoid of comedy. Honestly, the film manages to be so fucking boring that it feels like an eternity spent in purgatory, waiting for something—anything—to happen.
The so-called "action" scenes are nothing short of absurd, featuring characters aimlessly shooting at an armored truck while shouting the most ridiculous lines like, “Don’t shoot the truck, it’s going to blow up!” Are you kidding me? What the actual fuck?! It’s as if the writers sat around a table, threw darts at plot devices, and then decided to throw logic out the window. Instead of grasping any semblance of tension or excitement, we’re left with dialogue that makes you question whether anyone involved in this project ever encountered, you know, actual human conversations. I mean, how did this end up being produced? It’s an incoherent mess that gives me whiplash—nobody knows what's going on, and frankly, nobody gives a shit.
The Comparisons Don't End: Comparative Analysis
When examining Armor against Stallone’s previous works—think Rocky or even The Expendables—one can't help but mourn the loss of cinematic pride. Comparatively, this film feels like a bad knock-off, the cheap VHS sequel only available in the back corner of a thrift store. If you squint hard enough, you might even mistake it for a parody of an action movie, but sadly, it's a parody that isn't even trying to be funny. It’s as if the director, Justin Routt, decided to take a break from reality and engage in directorial malpractice, fumbling through scenes like a toddler playing with building blocks—only, in this case, the blocks are all misshapen, breaking apart when you least expect it.
Is he trying to remind us of Stallone's glory days, or was it simply a contractual obligation that he mistakenly thought could redeem itself? Either way, Routt’s direction makes a mockery of the genre. His ability to create tension, character depth, or even a coherent narrative is laughable at best. I can only assume he was operating under the influence of some sort of anti-script potion, because every scene comes off as disjointed and devoid of purpose. The lifeless execution of stunts and lack of authentic emotional beats make me question if he ever watched a good action movie in his life. It’s almost tragic to see Stallone reduced to this level—like watching a legendary athlete trudge through their retirement years without a hint of their former glory.
Adding insult to injury, both Routt and Stallone have a movie slated for 2025 called Alarum. Given their track record, I would be genuinely surprised if it’s anything other than a total shitshow. The plot, which involves the CIA discovering the whereabouts of two rogue spies-turned-husband-and-wife who have gone off-grid, sounds like it could lead to some decent tension. Instead, we might just end up with a clumsy mishmash of ridiculous spy antics set against a snowy backdrop. As the chaos of international spy organizations descends on their honeymoon cabin, it’s hard not to chuckle at the thought of yet another potential disaster in the making. Who really thinks we need a “flight pill” (read: hard drive) to be the ultimate MacGuffin? If Armor was any indication, I fear the only thing Alarum will deliver is a call to arms for moviegoers everywhere to steer clear of whatever these two gentlemen conjure up next.
Bitter Conclusion: Final Thoughts
In summary, Armor might just be the worst film of 2024. It’s a film so riddled with issues it almost deserves recognition for its sheer audacity. My soul ached for redemption, yet all I found was cinematic purgatory. As for Stallone, one has to wonder if he signed up thinking it would be a thrilling comeback or if he lost a bet—either way, the audiences certainly lost. Save your time and skip this train wreck; you'll thank me later. I know I will—after a few stiff drinks to forget this experience.
