If you are making a biopic about the man famous for training Bruce Lee in the art of wing chun, could you possibly consider HAVING AT LEAST ONE FRICKING SCENE DEDICATED TO TRAINING THE GREATEST MARTIAL ARTIST OF THE 20TH CENTURY?

A fully networked, modular, information based panopticon that knows what’s best for you, and doesn’t really care for dissent or drunken hooligans. Am I talking about the current British government or the ink blooded robots that are the obstacles of Pegg and Frost’s comedy duo?

More violence, less fun. This film comes off like a script written by a third grader that believes that saying the word motherfucker 100 times will magically transform you into Quentin Tarantino.