There’s a scene towards the beginning of The Expendables 2 in which Dolph Lundgren quite literally sneezes into Einstein’s theory of relativity. Nothing sums up the film’s modus operandi more succinctly, or phlegmatically, for that matter. The second instalment of Sylvester Stallone’s rib-cracking, hip-replacing, geriatric men-on-a-mission franchise has little interest in reason or rationality, instead opting to celebrate bloodthirsty machismo and the art of the terrible one-liner above any sense of cosmic coherence.