Armored
There’s a funny throwaway gag on The Simpsons in which a theater marquee is emblazoned with the words “MOVIE WITH AIR CONDITIONING.” Armored is the prototypical movie with air conditioning, a 90-minute slot-filler so simple, generic, and blandly proficient that the reels might as well come delivered in a brown paper sack. There’s nothing wrong with a tight little genre film that efficiently delivers the goods; in fact, Nimród Antal’s last effort, the underrated motel-hell thriller Vacancy, did exactly that, exploiting a single location to maximum effect. Armored also takes place largely in one place—an abandoned warehouse where duplicitous guards for an armored-truck company hole up after a botched heist—but it lacks that extra layer or two to make it interesting. The script and direction is all bones, no flesh.