This week's bad Nic Cage movie is 211, an action thriller that has a barely-there Cage as an about-to-be-retired small-town cop whose bad day gets worse when he stumbles upon a bank heist. ("211" is California police code for robbery.) These bank robbers — one of them is played by Cage's son, Weston, by the way — turn out to actually be mercenaries trying to get the million dollars that a war profiteer owes them, and they don't mind leaving piles of innocent bystanders in their wake.
Even at a scant 87 minutes, 211 is more cluttered than a cat-hoarder's house. Writer-director York Shackleton bites off way more than he can chew, using the bloody "Battle of North Hollywood" bank robbery as inspiration for his painfully melodramatic, embarrassingly extra cops-and-robbers flick. There are too many useless characters (played by a cast giving community theater-level performances), spouting mountains of exposition when they're not ducking from an excessive amount of machine-gun fire. (Like, this movie wastes so much ammo.)
Really, how much debt does Nic Cage owe? I almost feel like setting up a Kickstarter for the dude, just so he doesn't have to embarrass himself appearing in "films" like this.