Nick Cage must like to rile critics. Con Air is a polarizing pic as any. On the surface, it’s a high-octane adventure. Or, it’s an atrocious promo pastiche of much better films. On the plus side, the movie is only rarely confusing. But the premise is too silly to sustain itself. Cage is a Marine wrongfully imprisoned – he used lethal force on some rednecks. He turns himself into a muscular Jesus-like ass-kicker and has the double misfortune to be coerced into joining a daring escape attempt by a group of convicts hi-jacking a plane.
John Cusack head-scathingly comes along for the ride. There are too many good moments in Con Air to condemn it as a piss-poor clone of Michael-Bay scripting.
Any movie that dares to call its baddie Cyrus the Virus – who, by the way, hates rapists – is, at least, going for the glory. And, one has to admit, Ving Rhames and Steve Buscemi are especially good as crazed convicts.
But there’s just nothing hold this baby up and the supposedly satisfying final confrontation in Las Vegas feels overdone. More effective as a comedy than an action film but, at least, sel-consciously aware of its silliness. A one-and-half star vehicle but still recommended as a howler. A guilty pleasure all the way through.
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