Tarantino has a lot to answer for, but at least he can write dialogue, unlike most of the pointless prattle in this movie. Thomas the Tank philosophising might pitch to the mental age of the audience but is as trite as the the rest of the overlong banter between the cliched cockney Smoking Guns twins.
Throw in samurai swords, lots of guns, gangsters and guys, of course, and a couple of token evil gals, on a train, and you have yet another formulaic action movie trying to fill in the ridiculous plots holes with jokes. Brad Pitt's in-therapy character hangs it all together with some anger-therapy messaging that soon wears thin, for this is all about violence and stunts, and the lame plot takes a back seat.
Throw in samurai swords, lots of guns, gangsters and guys, of course, and a couple of token evil gals, on a train, and you have yet another formulaic action movie trying to fill in the ridiculous plots holes with jokes. Brad Pitt's in-therapy character hangs it all together with some anger-therapy messaging that soon wears thin, for this is all about violence and stunts, and the lame plot takes a back seat.