Screenwriter Scott Rosenberg (who penned Con Air and worked on Armageddon, uncredited) hasn't written a script; he's penned a litany of nonsensical non sequiturs ("Calitri's after my brother?" "Like stains on a mattress.") and overwrought clichés ("Kip's jammed up bad") and lines so silly you're forced to take them with a straight face. Otto, explaining his new life as a restorer of cars instead of a stealer of them, tells Memphis, "I'm no longer a destroyer. I'm a means of resurrection." Memphis stares at him blankly: He looks as though he's trying to contain a giggle.
Worse, Rosenberg throws in several extraneous plots, all of which peter out before they're given a chance to play out. It's as though Rosenberg and Sena aren't convinced the main plot can hold up on its own, so they throw in little nothings meant to distract us, to no avail. As a result, the movie plays like a series of B-sides -- all filler, no killer.