Prepare to be enraptured, kiddies - the Expendables hath returned - and to sweeten the deal, Sly has crammed Norris and JCVD in his sparklin' new action package. Oh yeah, he's also brought "Hemsworth" along for the ride. No, not the one you sorta liked in Thor, but the one who melted your heart in Miley Cyrus' coming-of-age critical darling, The Last Song.

This time, Santa Fe Film Critics Circle-award winner Simon West is at the helm. Can he re-capture that Con Air magic of yore? We'll find out third financial quarter, next year.

The Movie: Under Siege (1994)
The Perp: Casey Ryback (Steven Seagal)
The Victim: Bill Strannix (Tommy Lee Jones)

SPECIAL ACTION NOTE: For our readers South of the Border, today’s death is presented with Spanish subtitles.

Under Siege kicked off a three year-period known as Tommy Lee Mania – in which character actor Tommy Lee Jones would appear in every other film the Hollywood Dream Machine churned out. In this one, Tommy plays tie-dyed harmonica blower Bill Strannix, who fronts a rockin’ white blues band with a little sideline selling Tomahawk cruise missiles on the black market. Steven Seagal, more of World music fan himself, takes exception to Tommy’s brand of the blues. He expresses this sentiment with a knife through the Coronal suture. After filming, Steve retired to his trailer to cut a few hot demos for his genre-spanning meisterwerk, Songs From the Crystal Cave.

Or most flagrant misuse of the word “classic”? You decide.

Music critics generally agree that the “Golden Era” of Italian Disco began in 1976 and ended somewhat abruptly in 1985. Coincidentally that was the same year that American expat Wayne Scott released this homoerotic floor-filler.

Scott looked in the mirror one day and realized he bore a striking resemblance to music superstar Frank Stallone. Weeks later, he stumbled into an Italian cinema, where Frank’s brother Sylvester’s Rambo: First Blood II played to excited audiences. A bolt resounded from the blue – Sylvester Stallone looked a lot like his brother Frank! Also, Rambo II was a popular film.

The Gods of Marketing Synergy had smiled upon young Scott. In a rush of euphoria, he grabbed a notebook and scribbled the words that would become “Rambo (This Time We’re Gonna Win.)” Hooking up with legendary producer Tino Nonzilla – he constructed a mournful elegy of patriotism, vengeance and steaming man sweat – all set to swirling helicopter sound effects.

The single was released two weeks later. Wayne was riding high on fame and Brandy Alexanders. He hired a few Chinese immigrants from a local junkyard to appear as Vietcong in his national television debut.

The cameras rolled, the stage lights shined – Wayne walked out with a red bandana tied tight, gripping his M60 tighter. He lip synced his heart out, took karate kicks at the immigrants, flexed his gym-toned biceps. The audience responded with a puzzled yawn.

The next week, Wayne Scott forlornly returned to his job fixing transmissions at a Fiat dealership just outside of Genoa. In the ensuing years, he tried to recapture the magic, recording further singles like “Cobra (Do The Slither)”, “Demolition Man (Unfreeze Your Love)” and “Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot (No Shooting on The Dance Floor)” – but at that point the Italian public had grown more interested in ignoring songs based on Bruce Willis movies.

Then one day Wayne Scott simply disappeared – leaving no forwarding address, just a scrap of paper on which was scrawled a recipe for “Scott’s Super Sweet and Creamy Brandy Alexander.”

Locals say on dark windy nights they can hear still his voice, singing sweetly from somewhere high up in the Apennine Mountains…

“This time I feel so strong, I’ll sing the winners’ song, I’ll do it all alone, I’ll bring the boys back home…”