Feels More Like a Blunt Object to Me.
The best thing about Bullet to the Head is that one could make a pretty entertaining drinking game out of how many times the movie ham-fistedly references its own ham-fisted title. Take a drink every time someone takes a bullet to the head. Knock back a full shot whenever Sylvester Stallone’s inexplicably and hilariously named Jimmy Bobopours himself a shot of his own personal bottle of “Bullet” brand bourbon, which he carries around with him everywhere. (Get it? The bourbon’s called “Bullet,” and he takes “shots” of it through his mouth, which is in his “head!” Get it? “Bullet to the Head!” Ha ha ha! Next time you’re at your job where you don’t get paid enough for your hard work, remember that someone was paid a lot of money to write this script.) Then finish your entire drink whenever someone says the actual title of the movie.
At the very least, you’d have something entertaining to do for an hour and a half. You’ve got to find your entertainment somewhere, because you’re not going to find it in this pedantic, by-the-numbers flick. Although it starts out promising, dripping with pure southern-fried swagger, it quickly finds its true voice, slipping into monotonous mediocrity. Honest to goodness, I had real trouble staying awake through this eminently forgettable, plodding bore of a movie, and I suspect that in a couple of months no one’s going to remember that there was a movie called Bullet to the Head. Which is good for Sylvester Stallone, I suppose, since he has The Tomb coming out in September, in which he co-stars with Arnold Schwarzenegger If he’s lucky, no one will remember this movie and allow it to scare them away from that movie.
Stallone has had quite the career renaissance over the last few years, which can arguably be traced to when he took it upon himself to begin writing and directing his own movies again, allowing him to make new installments of his most lauded franchises, Rocky and Rambo, and start a new blockbuster franchise: The Expendables. Before that, he languished in pop culture obscurity for the better part of a decade, with his highest-profile role as the villain in Spy Kids 3-D. If Bullet to the Head had come out during that period of Stallone’s career, it would have quietly gone direct-to-video, lost in the morass of low-grade b-level crime movies, only to be found in the Wal-Mart bargain bin. There’s almost nothing to recommend this movie. For a film that’s supped to be in the “action” genre, it spends the majority of its time with its two main characters (who have zero chemistry, by the way) driving around in a car together. Not even driving fast, either—just cruising around looking for the next scene. The few “action” sequences to be had are more yawn-inducing than awe-inspiring. The climax of the movie involves a fire ax fight between Sylvester Stallone and Jason Momoa. You’d think that would at least be exciting. It’s not. Even if it were, you’d be too comatose to care by that point.
In the end, Bullet to the Head is firing blanks. It’s entirely unremarkable, which is one of the worst things a movie can be. I wouldn’t even recommend this one for the Wal-Mart bargain bin.
 Seriously? “Jimmy Bobo?” That’s a name for a trained chimpanzee, not an allegedly badass hit man. Sheesh.