The original Rollerball (1975) was a blend of portentousness and bone crunching, picturing the consumer society of the future in docile thrall to violent sporting spectacle. McTiernan's remake dumps most of the would-be thoughtful stuff and concentrates on folks braining each other with large ball bearings. Disgruntled ice hockey player Klein proves ripe for plucking when old pal LL Cool J suggests he sign up for the hot new sports start-up in a distant central Asian republic. Rollerball is promoter Réno's baby, mixing bikers and rollerbladers, mayhem and leather on a figure eight track, but there are shady business interests in the background, and players bristling against rising levels of carnage. The issue here, though, is less the individual's stand against corporate oppression, but whether Réno can get a US cable TV deal. Rollerball looks like a checklist shaped by a 15-year-old mallrat: thrashing metal track, skateboards, motorbikes, cracked heads and Rebecca Romijn-Stamos with her top off.