Just another story about who gets the stolen money and makes it to Mexico alive. Judy turned out to be working for the Feds all along, ever since the big plans for the heist began. We never really needed her to distract that one guard anyway, but after she blew Harold, she was just such a viper, working her way among the team and pitting the guys against each other. That slut! Damien was a little better, but he annoyed me the whole time, always whining about his "troubled past" and his "rocky relationship" with his dad. Serious issues there. All the flashbacks to that dirty pond behind the trailer park, though, helped us understand that deep down his dad only ignored him so much because he loved him and wanted the best for him, and the scene where Damien finds the fishhooks in his old gym bag at the end was really a tear-jerker.
You could tell that Damien was the one Judy really wanted, the way they bantered the whole time, always tearing each other down in such clever ways, and Judy flipping that little sundress when she was jumpstarting the battery on that one moving van they stole from the storage place. You know, the flippy little number, white with black polka dots, that almost but not quite showed her panties half the time? The teenagers in front of me really hooted over that, but it was artfully done, artfully done, never going too far. Anyway, there was genuine hurt in Damien's eyes in that one scene where he finally realized she was turning them over to the cops in a little town north of the border. He never forgot the way his mother was killed. You can tell from the picture in his wallet, the one in black and white even though we're now at a point where his parents shouldn't've had their picture taken in black and white. But hey, imagery is imagery. Who is going to get the cash to Mexico?
Don't knock Judy too hard for betraying them. It turns out she had a hard childhood too. She developed the seductive persona to survive in the rough and tumble world that abused her after her abusive, abusing father finally shut her mother's head in the washing machine, driving her mother crazy and leading to the sexual abuse. Considering that, you can't blame her for leading Tyrone along even after Harold got left behind on that old drug rap, because Tyrone was experienced himself, and looked so dapper in that tousled black tuxedo that he'd certainly be able to get another woman anytime he wanted to. Amazingly, it was that strength of character that got Judy through the shootout with the cartel, and that gave her the gumption to finally stand up to the racist cop at the end and help what remained of the gang get away. Is she going to be the one who gets the suitcase of cash to Mexico? She and Damien, maybe, solving their personal issues and retiring on the beach with an endless supply of money? God, I can't wait to find out!
You can't really discount Marvin, though. The black sheep among black sheep, the one no one really likes until the end, whose quirky sayings make no sense until that amazingly clever epiphany you have when you realize that the Cubans have a guy with the same facial tics, clearly derived from those old Vietnam experiments, just like Marvin. After all he's done for his country, can you really blame him for wanting to get the briefcase of cash to Mexico, his criminal partners be damned? Marvin isn't like Damien, though; he doesn't wear suits, he's never driven a red convertible, and he never decisively ends fistfights with casino personnel. Certainly he never had the quickie with the cocktail waitress in the first two minutes of the movie like Damien did, that stud.
What those raunchy teenagers didn't understand about Judy was that the perky little sundress, the one that always showed a careful inch of the bottoms of her cheeks when she was jumpstarting various rugged four-wheel-drive vehicles, was that the black-polka-dot pattern wasn't about sex and sexuality, no, not about mere lust, it was in fact dignified symbolism about the stains of her childhood which she still carries with her. Anyone who was paying attention during the laundry room flashback scenes to her childhood home would realize that, whenever her mother was too busy for her, it was because her mother was washing the tablecloth from the picnic table out back, under the willow tree where her grandpa was buried, the tablecloth with the black polka dot pattern on white, just like her dress. And the scene with the potato salad and the uncomfortable silence that lasted for almost three seconds of screen time, high tension, people, it just, it just conveyed the way that Judy's sundress-sexuality was evocative of the portrayal of repression and emblematic of the visual imagery of her inner struggles with her incredible body but her unfortunate cigarette and cock habit. Sometimes you just want to get away from it all, and the only way to do that is to get through this rugged world the best you can until you're the one inwardly noble enough to get the suitcase of cash to Mexico, millions to Mexico, you can always survive easily on the beach with millions in Mexico. Some people claim that if you freeze the stills of her lower cheeks, you can see where they airbrushed the cellulite out, but that's only if you accept the gossip-rag version of the Judy-actress photos that show her looking like a land whale on the beach in Malibu, and frankly, I'm sure it was the cheap magazine staff that added those wrinkles, rather than the other way around.
But enough about Judy, what really matters is Damien's body. I hear he did a special four-minute workout, three times every single day, on set, to get him pumped for those fight scenes. This boyfriend of mine is trying the workout, it really works, he says, it's basically the same stuff he's always been doing, but you can see how well it works when Damien is sort of growling, sneering, snarling, whatever, at that one scarred Mexican right before he smashes his face into the brass railing. Those are muscles, man, genuine muscles, it's some kind of secret about the four-minute workout. I read the interview where he talked about it, he said it was really hard and stuff.
And you know the fight scene I'm talking about, right? Of course you do, the one where he beats up seventeen corrupt Mexican drunks inside of two minutes, swinging big and breaking a bottle on the counter, but only for effect, because of course his fists do all his talking for him, never some dos equis glass. "Alfonso, man, you better put that pool cue down." I mean, chills! Right? I think that was definitely a scene to make other directors jealous. Especially because it's so clear that, in his fine black suit, Damien is so much more dignified of a bank robber than that low class Mexican scum, doing nothing all day but drinking tequila and harassing honest white bank robbers who are doing nothing more than asking if anyone has a spare car battery they can use to jumpstart their moving van. And you know the damn Mexicans are all over his girl Judy, at least, they would be if they saw her, and after Damien beats them all up we discover the torture room in the back, where it turns out the entire bar and all its customers were just a front for a white slavery operation. So really, the point is, it's not bank robbers who are the problem, not humble white people with their one black friend just trying to make a score in this rough and tumble world, oh no, not them, it's the Mexicans and their white slavery operations, the perverts, tying girls to old iron bedframes without mattresses, and shipping them to Thailand for use in the sex trade, yeah, that makes sense. And if Damien and Marcus hadn't gone into that bar in search of that battery, and hadn't robbed that bank, then they never would've broken up the slave ring, so if you look at the whole thing overall, without any prejudices, you realize who the true heroes really are.
Thank God for Marvin, though. Those treacherous extra Mexicans in the back room, with the guns, wanted the briefcase for themselves, and they would've gotten Damien into a tight spot, if Marvin hadn't been perfecting his accelerator ray in the truck's backseat, you know, the one he'd been bothering everyone with for the past few days, and then he finally test fires it and blows the whole bar up! He's the real hero here, folks, although what I think it's really trying to say is that the unorthodox combination of personalities and their commitment to each other through trouble is what allowed them to get the briefcase across the border in the first place. It's sad that Tyrone was shot by those corrupt Federales, but let's be honest, folks, he was never going to get to jump Judy's bones, even though she had that moment the night before he died where she stroked the side of his head and said she thought he was the one of them who didn't belong in this world. No, he and Marvin had zero chance, and Marvin will be happier working in that strange observatory they found outside Oaxaca, before Damien and Judy finally found this perfect place to settle down on the beach with their briefcase full of millions. By that point, everyone had betrayed everyone else so many times, and worked through it, that they realized how it was meant to be all along, and friendship is important and everyone has a place in this world, but let's be honest, Marvin and Tyrone never had a shot at that punani to begin with, and Damien goes to the bar every afternoon, mas tequila, por favor! And Judy keeps a little picnic table down near the cliff overlooking the waves, and the clever viewer, the one from a literary background, will realize that the tablespread in her arms in the final scene is white with black polka dots. It's funny how she ended up being just like her mother after everything that happened, it puts a tear in your eyes that the right people made it to Mexico with the millions, you can almost forget about the incredible car explosions and the tense scene with those produce trucks at the border and the fireballs showing on the TVs in Omaha where Damien's old buddies were drinking, completely unaware of the incredible character development their friend was having as he got away with millions in Mexico.