"Battle: Los Angeles"

Someone should recognize Jonathan Liebesman's merit: it's difficult to make a war movie with aliens that leads so much to sleepiness. Illegitimate son of Black Hawk Down, District 9, Independence Day and all the soldiers of the army's subjects (every cliché is represented with arms and legs), Battle: Los Angeles has the same profoundness than the synopsis of a Call of Duty's back cover and lacks redeeming elements such as spectacular FX or some comical sparkle. Will Smith isn't even on it. And yes, Independence Day was a parched shit, the aliens had a such a compatible hardware that you would laugh at the USB 2.0 and everything needed, but at least the Prince of Bel Air letting witties out gilded your suppository.

Everything very serious, very dull, very routine, a camera in the hands of a schizo, a script of absurd logic, enemies that pass from God mood to being funfair ducks, a patriotic speech and a group of soldiers whose destiny matters us like hell.

A snail race is funnier. Dead snails.

And Will Smith is not on it.