Any film that puts “bad” in its title is asking for trouble from critics. Bad Company, a dumbed-down spy thriller following the high-testosterone, low-plausibility formula of producer Jerry Bruckheimer, deserves whatever zingers it gets. Not that young fans of adrenalized action will care what the critics think.
Undercover CIA operatives led by agent Oakes (Hopkins) are trying to buy a bomb on the black market, in part to sting the Russian dealer, in part to keep it out of the hands of rival bidders determined to nuke Manhattan. A crucial agent dies, forcing the CIA to recruit his streetwise twin, Jake (Rock), to complete the deal. The jive-talking hustler is out of his element, but gets trained just in time for the action to kick into high gear and the body count—with several people shot at point-blank range—to push the bounds of the PG-13 rating. Considerable violence is joined by more than 60 profanities or obscenities (including 17 s-words and one f-word), as well as crass sexual remarks.
The movie does try to make some positive statements about self-sacrifice, staying in school and the institution of marriage. In one scene, Jake walks in on a showering beauty who, thinking he is his brother, wants to get frisky. He finds her attractive, yet resists her advances because his heart belongs to a girl he hopes to marry. That’s great. But the film takes every opportunity to titillate the audience by showing the temptress in skimpy lingerie, and by zooming in on her foot as it massages Jake’s crotch.
Ridiculous action and dialogue is one thing, but teens can do without the barrage of violence, language and other moral miscues. Heed the words of 1 Corinthians 15:33. Don’t let Bad Company corrupt good character.
