Being thrown in a cramped, damp room full of extremely muscular men may sound like an ideal way to spend an evening, but take it from me: There are issues. The air's so coated with testosterone it's hard to breathe, the conversation is far, far from anything resembling romantic and, worst of all, these men aren't paying attention to you. None. Their interest extends to just two things: money and guns. Yuck.
That basically sums up what "13" is all about. This is a film that has gathered some of the most undatable males working in cinema today — Jason Statham, Mickey Rourke, Ray Winstone, a painfully aged Ben Gazzara, David Zayas and Curtis "50 Cent" Jackson — and basically told them to huff and strut in Italian suits before blowing each other's brains out.
To say that "13" is an antimatter substance of a feel-good movie is an understatement — it makes you feel atrocious and clammy for a full 48 hours before you can marshal the strength to go and look for something to soothe those damaged nerves. I'm thinking a trip to Bali and a tubful of herbal moisturizer.