DVD REVIEWS

Innovative adaptation of news reports into U.S.-Israeli Psy-Ops (i.e. Psychological Operations) and demented, Dr Mengele-esque experiments conducted on hostages in Guantanamo Bay, Bagram, Afghanistan, prison camps / gulags in Iraq and by the Americans on their own personnel. ‘The Men Who Stare At Goats’ follows mild mannered journalist Bob Wilton (Ewan McGregor) and alleged psychic soldier or self proclaimed “Jedi warrior” Lyn Cassidy (George Clooney) on a story that leads them into U.S. occupied Iraq and a sinister rendezvous with Cassidy’s old colleagues:  washed up hippy Bill Django (Jeff Bridges) and smarmy proponent of the “dark side” Larry Hooper (Kevin Spacey). Well acted by a great cast, director Grant Heslov (co-produced ‘Good Night And Good Luck’ occasionally crops up in movies as an Arab or Jew) decides to play tragedy as farce; it’s a risky direction in light of the ongoing conflict, but pays off in the end.

Ewan McGregor, who takes the film’s numerous ‘Star Wars’ references on the chin, struggles to maintain an American accent (why they keep casting him as one is beyond me) but makes up for it by creating a memorable, consistently hilarious, double act with Clooney, who successfully avoids redoing his aloof oddball characters from ‘Burn After Reading’ and ‘O Brother Where Art Thou?’ and manages to counterbalance the comedic broadsides with a subtle and sober reflection on the barbaric quagmire that is the Zionist occupation of Iraq. Much of the movie is told in flashback as our protagonists wander the desert, so it’s a good thing that the entire cast are on top form and that each section is well constructed to seamlessly become part of the wider narrative. A daring intervention towards the end is, alas, wishful thinking that panders to an absent moral imperative; heroic hindsight that may serve to heal a nation’s guilt but not he wounds of the country it currently exploits; an act that should’ve happened, but never did. ‘The Men Who Stare At Goats’ is an interesting and timely satire with repeat viewing potential and should provide the thinking viewer with a springboard to further research and investigate the extent of the criminality that festers within our governments today. In years to come, ‘The Men Who Stare At Goats’ is liable to build a strong following and will probably be reappraised by critics who gave it a lukewarm reception on release; the new ‘Dr. Strangelove’? Time will tell.

8/10

Cracking conspiracy thriller, but only about three people saw it; which is odd, for ‘The International’ has all the hallmarks of a big hit, including one of the best shootouts since ‘Heat’. Clive Owen plays an honest Interpol agent out to expose the criminal machinations of a World Bank, partnered with Naomi Watts, an American D.A. hampered at every turn by the powers that be. Perhaps audiences found its financial corruption and banker themed storyline too much like watching the news, but this timely and enjoyable film deserves a second chance.

Israel does crop up once in a conversation, but only after they’ve mentioned China and Turkey at least a dozen times before, and at the end of the day, this is Hollywood, so don’t expect the whole truth about Rothschild’s Federal Reserve Banking cartel or Zionism for that matter. These noticeable omissions occur, I suspect, because writer / director Tom Tykwer wants to continue making movies and simply wouldn’t risk offending the Zionist Jews under whom he works. And if that sounds a lot like a conspiracy, well that’s because it is.  Still, at least they cover some ground, which is better than nothing, I suppose. Clive Owen is excellent, Naomi Watts is good too and it all works out quite well in the end; an enjoyable, old school thriller that holds your interest (rates).

8/10

Having established his unconventional narrative style with ‘Chronicle Of A Love’ (1950), ‘Camille Without Camellias’ (1953) and ‘The Girlfriends’ (1955), Italian auteur Michelangelo Antonioni began work on the first of his ‘Incommunicability Trilogy’ all of which starred Monica Vitti.  ‘L’Avventura’ (’The Adventure’) is, in the loosest possible sense, a story about young bourgeois couple Sandro (Gabriele Ferzetti) & Anna (Lea Massari), Anna’s best friend Claudia (Vitti) and a Mediterranean boating trip during which Anna mysteriously disappears. Claudia & Sandro’s “search” is somewhat of a misnomer; as it merely serves as a pretext for Sandro’s amorous advances towards his fiancé’s friend; Claudia reciprocates his attention whilst poor Anna, both fiancé and friend, is soon forgotten.

Antonioni’s films on loneliness & isolation are, unsurprisingly, best seen alone; like a painting in an empty corner of an art gallery, films like ‘L’Avventura’ offer the viewer an experience unlike any other. They exist, seemingly without purpose, and in doing so reflect a society unable, or unwilling, to determine its own sense of direction; this was as important an issue for Italians after World War II, as it is for us today. Back then, people questioned their judgement in allowing fascism to gain a foothold and, of course, pondered the very real post-war concern about how other occidental ideologies (manifested through militarised nation-state superpowers) would soon threaten to infringe upon civil liberties once more. Modernity, capitalism and industrialisation also make their debut as an uninvited triumvirate that marauds its way through the psychical landscape whilst stamping its superficial, treacherous creed upon the soul of humanity. Anna represents something lost within us, as ‘L’Avventura’ chases beauty, and searches for lost values like one asleep and dreaming; trying not to wake up, but knowing all too well the reality that awaits them when they do. Critics roundly mocked this film at Cannes, perhaps unaware of their own allegiance to the empty, materialist ideologies that Antonioni saw as a threat. But just like Claudia rethinks her relationship with Sandro, it was soon reappraised and hailed as an unparalleled work of cinematic genius, now, almost half a century later, we must concede that Antonioni was right, and ‘L’Avventura’ was a unique, beautiful warning: unheeded, denied, lost and rediscovered. Total Cinema.

10/10

An over-hyped, but nonetheless compelling, social drama; ‘The Wrestler’ sees Mr Rachel Weisz; director Darren Arronovsky (‘Requiem For A Dream’) back in the reviewer’s good books after his surreal, sci-fi romance ‘The Fountain’, which isn’t nearly as bad as some make it out to be, was slated across the board and booed off screen at Venice. Mickey Rourke receives a welcome outpouring of goodwill from fans and critics alike, with an assured, poignant performance as ex-wrestling superstar Randy ‘The Ram’ Robinson a.k.a., as he hates being reminded; Robin Ramzinski. Big in the 80s, Randy is all but washed up; struggling to recapture faded glories in spite of his allying health and an astute awareness that nostalgia can only take you so far.

Its no secret that ‘The Wrestler’ is a fictional, light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel parallel to Mickey Rourke’s life; his once promising career derailed by a successive series of bad choices, the years spent in straight-to-video purgatory followed by a brief resurgence in ‘Once Upon a Time In Mexico’, ‘Sin City’ and a fully fledged comeback with this film; Rourke’s best performance since the heyday of ‘Rumblefish’ (1983) and ‘Diner’ (1982).  Randy is offered an opportunity to stage a legend’s re-match with his most famous opponent; ‘The Ayatollah’ a.k.a. Jim (their first bout circa 1980 sold out ‘Madison Square Garden’) but an unforeseen setback after an extreme wrestling gig, forces Randy to re-evaluate his life; try and make amends with his estranged daughter (another intense performance by Evan Rachel Wood), attempt to woo old friend & stripper (Marisa Tomei on fine form) whilst enduring the ritual indignities of his menial day job at a Deli. Rourke’s training and ripped physique give him an immediate visual credibility; audiences can sympathise with his pain (both physical & emotional) as he puts his battered body on the line night after night; for the euphoric adulation of the fans, not just to earn a living; but to soak up an undying love and a sense of belonging absent in all other aspects of his life. As well as being about Mickey Rourke, ‘The Wrestler’ also alludes to ‘The 12 Labours Of Hercules’ for the scenes where Randy is in an apron and hat uniform behind the Deli counter, is reminiscent of Omphale, princess of Lydia’s punishment, in which she forced Hercules to wear women’s clothes and do the housework. Labours 5 (cleaning ‘The Augean Stable’) & 10 (capturing Cerberus) also come into play: Elysian King Augeas charged Hercules with the task of cleaning his stables (which housed more cattle than anyone else in the land, but had never been cleaned hence one can only imagine the mess; filth being a metaphor for human sins); Herc triumphed by re-routing the rivers Alpheus and Peneus to purify this den; these stables represent Randy’s life and his sincere effort to make amends, Augean Stable is also a Greek synonym for the star sign constellation of Capricorn (i.e. ‘The Ram’). Labour 10 links in with the old symbol for Pisces (two people as opposed to two fish) one entering Hades, the other leaving; Marisa Tomei’s character is leaving her life as a stripper (i.e. her disguise) behind, whereas Randy continues towards Hades in pursuit of Cerberus and his own fate, whatever it may be. Capricorn ‘The Ram’ is also considered an introspective gateway sign into the upper echelons of spiritual self-initiation, so that powerful, last shot suggests Randy attains that level and consciously decides to embrace the path without hesitation or regret. Esoteric tomfoolery aside; I liked the way Mickey Rourke employed Hulk Hogan-esque vernacular by calling everyone “brother”, and how ‘The Ayatollah’ was to ‘The Ram’ what ‘The Iron Sheik’ was to Hogan back in the days when ‘Wrestlemania’ was just a glimmer of an idea in Vince McMahon’s mind. ‘The Wrestler’, thankfully, doesn’t spend all its time in the squared circle though the theatrical, but nonetheless painful, dynamics of the pro-wrestling world are bought to light; with hard-as-nails grapplers finalising routines backstage like genteel interior designers deciding on how to best to arrange a flower bouquet. Marisa Tomei’s memorable take on ‘The Passion Of The Christ’, retro musings, good pathos and an excellent central performance by Mickey Rourke make ‘The Wrestler’ worth watching; a little overweight with all the hyperbole & praise, this is a film that occasionally body slams its points home, but still comes out a winner.

7/10

“James Bond Will Return” they promised, and return he does; though it’s not so much an accelerated sequel to ‘Eon’s’ acclaimed franchise reboot, as it is a brisk walk from the end credits of Daniel Craig’s auspicious debut as 007 in ‘Casino Royale’, to the harsh, sand blasted vista that is ‘Quantum Of Solace’. A sparse, strangely muted but well-written and competently acted film, directed with some style by Marc Foster (’The Kite Runner’).

Craig looks more at ease with his role this time around, whilst Bond’s unwieldy nemesis; an effectively sinister consortium of megalomaniac ne’er-do-wells called ‘Quantum’ is similar in style and methodology to real world villains like ‘The Round Table Network’ or ‘Illuminati’. Now if you’re contemplating on seeing Bond 22, my only advice would be to re-watch ‘Casino Royale’ the night before, or better still; on the same day you see this, for the two are so closely linked that anyone who doesn’t have total recall of every plot twist and character in ‘CR’ will be left scratching their heads through most of ‘QOS’ lean, 97 minute running time. In fact, I often wondered if they couldn’t have just have combined both films together as an epic, Bond double bill. Now realism is always good, but here, ‘Eon’ have employed realism to the point of inflicting blunt force trauma injuries to the much loved Bond ideal of yesteryear; gone are the gadgets, femme fatales and wry innuendoes, for who’d have imagined that there’d come a day when we’d miss terrible double entendres like: “one rises to meet a challenge” (’Goldeneye’) or long for a time when our tuxedoed anti-hero could get a good seeing to by the likes of Holly Goodhead or Xenia Onatop? All in all; ‘QOS’ is premium Bond that delivers the goods when it comes to action; but doesn’t quite work as a standalone picture: some misjudged scenes include an unconvincing epilogue with Vesper’s boyfriend, which feels tacked on as an afterthought to give ‘QOS’ something akin to a proper ending. And though the nod to ‘Goldfinger’ (now with black gold) was a clever touch, it momentarily distracts us into recalling Sean Connery’s Bond, and though Daniel hasn’t embarrassed himself as franchise custodian, he doesn’t come close to Connery; and reminding an audience of that era only puts their new man at a distinct disadvantage. Definitely worth seeing, though not on a par with my favourite Bond picture: ‘Goldeneye’, it’s still a worthy, if instantly familiar, addition to the 007 cannon: As Craig’s predecessor once told us in the teaser for ‘Tomorrow Never Dies’: “Bond…you know the rest”.

7/10

Where double agents, Russian spies, media megalomaniacs, skinheads and North Korean assassins failed, it was the corporation who finally succeeded. I was rather disappointed with the manner in which they sacked Pierce Brosnan; an actor who’s stellar work as 007 resurrected a missing-presumed-dead franchise, and bought Bond back with a (Walther PPK) bang into the 21st century.

That said, ‘Casino Royale’ is an entertaining film, and though I’m not an obsessive fan of the series, I can tell its not so much a Bond movie as it is a blatant, wholly unnecessary, attempt to recapture ground Broccoli & ‘Eon’ feel they’ve lost to the ‘Bourne’ franchise. A lot of the tongue-in-cheek traits we’ve come to know and love have been axed: even the ridiculously named Bond girls, remembered long after the actresses who played them faded into obscurity, are reduced to a mere in-joke, perhaps Quentin Tarantino (who first proposed the idea for an origin story at Cannes) should have been consulted by the filmmakers after all. Eva Green, Ivana Milicevic and Caterina Murino make for suitably enigmatic & dangerous Bond girls, Judi Dench gets some good lines as M, but Daniel Craig, though one of our finest stage/character actors, just doesn’t work at all, and in many ways, he’s just riffing off his Alex West role from ‘Tomb Raider’, occasionally throwing in a bit of ‘Road To Perdition’s’ Conner Rooney-esque menace; and in spite of a few excellent one-liners, fails to evoke the classic Bond demeanour of suave & deadly. Its not his fault, but Craig just has the look of a goon about him, he’ll always be the brooding henchman; which is why he was perfect as both an anonymous hit man in ‘Layer Cake’ and an Israeli neo-Nazi in ‘Munich’. Its almost as if Daniel Craig is Bond’s limo driver, assuming his boss’s identity for a wild weekend away, would Clive Owen have been any better? Who knows, I think Hugh Jackman, Ralph Fiennes or even John Travolta (provided he thinned down and could do an English accent) would’ve worked well. Directed in a workmanlike manner by Bond veteran Martin Campbell, who helmed the as yet unequalled ‘Goldeneye’ back in 1995. ‘Casino Royale’ is good for what it is, though I don’t see why they couldn’t have made this picture with Brosnan, after all, even Sean Connery had a few not-so-great outings as Bond. But to fire Pierce based solely upon the narrative absurdity of ‘Die Another Day’, just smacks of a knee-jerk response by an unseen corporate bureaucracy, bean counters who had the best Bond since Connery, and cut him loose because of one lazy script and bad CGI work. An enjoyable, but undeserved, success for the Bond plutocracy: I look forward to the next one.

8/10

Compelling 1950s set film noir/ true story, based on an independent investigation into the tragic / mysterious death of ‘Superman’ actor George Reeves (played with humour, depth & pathos by Ben Affleck). ‘Hollywoodland’ sees an on form Adrian Brody as archetypal private eye Louis Simo; a hard drinking, media savvy gumshoe who’s never short of a witty comeback, Simo initially sees reopening the George Reeves case (officially ruled a suicide) as a way to make a quick buck. But soon gets drawn into a labyrinthine conspiracy, which implicates Reeve’s fiancée (Robin Tunney) older ex-lover (Diane Lane’s best performance since ‘A Perfect Storm’) her crook husband / movie magnate (Bob Hoskins), an irredeemably corrupt LAPD along with a whole host of industry goons & plutocrats: Was it murder or suicide?

‘Hollywoodland’ isn’t prepared to confirm or deny anything, for whilst writer/ editor Paul Brenbaum’s well researched script does drop some heavy hints, novice director Allen Coulter simply lays out all the pieces and leaves it up to us to put the puzzle together. ‘Hollywoodland’ is essentially a character study of Reeves & Simo, worlds apart at first glance, but caught up in the same miasma of consumerism, show biz sniping and soul-destroying charades of Hollywood corporatism. Ben Affleck portrays Reeves as an amiable everyman, frustrated at being typecast yet haunted by the notion that Superman may be as good as gets for him. My faith in Affleck’s acting ability is fully restored by a tour-de-force performance which depicts a flawed, but decent, actor who may’ve been better than the sum of his parts, though the heartbreaking 8mm show-reel suggests otherwise, and is as moving a scene as Martin Landau’s last hurrah in ‘Ed Wood’. A subplot that deals with Louis Simo’s divorce and how he’s trying to make time to see his kid (who, like many others, is traumatised by the death of his onscreen idol) seems somewhat out of place in 1959; an era when an ordinary suburban couple would’ve probably stuck it out in keeping with societal norms. In fact, it would’ve made for better picture if Simo’s home life was constantly grating against his mission to uncover the truth (i.e. like Kevin Costner’s Jim Garrison in ‘JFK’). ‘Hollywoodland’ is a serious and entertaining film with classical narrative sensibilities, good performances (Affleck in particular) and shot with a confidence & style that successfully recreates the (not so) good old days in Tinsel Town.

8/10

I suppose Easter was as good a time as any to resurrect the bare bones release of Mel Gibson’s controversial religious film, which has now arisen as a 2-Disc Special Edition; complete with 15 minutes of unseen footage, a trinity of audio commentaries (including one by a priest!) and two informative, behind-the-scenes documentaries. The passion play is an archaic Catholic tradition which, depending on what you believe, depicts the last twelve hours in the life of Abrahamic Prophet: Isa Son Of Mary a.k.a. Rabbi Yeshua a.k.a. Jesus Christ (peace be upon him).

‘The Passion Of The Christ’ is a gruelling, sometimes clichéd but fascinating work of cinematic genius by Oscar winning director Mel Gibson, whose decision to shoot his opus in Aramaic, Hebrew and Latin lends it an authenticity often absent from Hollywood films about faith. Jim Caviziel (’Frequency’) gives a sober and commanding performance as The Messiah: resolute, dignified, furious, beaten but unbowed; one doesn’t necessarily have to believe such a man even existed, to appreciate a good old fashioned story about stoic heroism in the face of insurmountable adversity. Gibson also manages to coax strong performances out of a largely unknown cast of European stage and television actors; Maria Morgensten is excellent as the Virgin Mary: A scene between her and Cavizel discussing carpentry in the workshop is peppered with gentle humour, and makes you wish Gibson had spent more time developing characters, instead of the intricacies of the movie’s torture sequences. Devout Catholic and ‘Matrix Reloaded’ starlet Monica Belluci, the unlikeliest cast member by far, does well in her role as Mary Magdalene, whilst Italian MTA Rosalinda Celentano makes for an outlandish, yet magnetic Satan. One senses ‘Privilegia Ecclesiastica’ at work in the casting of women as devils, sinful daughters of Eve or the Biblical femme fatale with a snake up her leg; and I imagine Peter De Rosa would have a field day deconstructing the whys and wherefores of this one. Many critics blasted ‘The Passion Of The Christ’ for its prolonged flagellation sequence in which Jesus, having been betrayed by the Jewish priesthood (who became Pharisees, or polytheistic separatists) is torn to ribbons by sadistic Roman soldiers. And its true, these scenes rank as some of the most blood curdling & realistic recreations of torture ever committed to celluloid. But that depiction of suffering is, I’m told, an essential aspect of the Passion play for Christians, thus to highlight the bloodletting would be like going to see a Jet Li movie and complaining about all that Wu Shu. I probably would’ve hated this had I seen it with a crowd of weeping fanatics waving crucifixes in the air, or felt compelled to make an argument for its (non-existent) anti-Semitism against Jews, for when a film attracts as much media attention as this one did, its often easy to overlook the obvious question: was it any good? When ‘The Passion Of The Christ’ works, it’s an incredible and unique picture, in the scenes that fall flat its little more than an animated stained glass window, repeating myths refuted by rationalists like Karen Armstrong. Fortunately; good acting, excellent cinematography and Gibson’s eye for the epic, ensures its position as a modern classic in the religious genre. Grim but gripping.

9/10

Unloved, force fed garlic, staked through the heart, exposed to sunlight and promptly decapitated by critics the world over; Francis Ford Coppola’s studious, if uneven, adaptation of Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’ has lain dead & buried for over a decade…until now. As if in response to strange, spontaneous acts of collective reappraisal, ‘Dracula’ rises from its cinematic grave; no longer the overblown, big-budget debacle marred by overacting, dodgy accents and a haphazard narrative structure, but restored to its rightful place in film history as an enjoyable, wonderfully bizarre B-horror with an A-list cast.

I was rather disappointed first time around, after all, one expects a lot form ‘The Godfather’ and though this movie’s commercial success kept ‘American Zoetrope’ out of the red, it was arguably the last time we saw Coppola the innovator at work. Championed by Winona Ryder (who had to drop out of ‘The Godfather III’ due to illness), both star and director where eager to put a new spin on an old story; and thus Coppola turned his focus to a timeless love affair between the Count (Gary Oldman) and Mina (Ryder). Personally, I didn’t like on the idea of mixing an author’s literary inspiration (i.e. historical Vlad Tepes being Stoker’s template for Dracula) with a director’s cinematic ambitions, for the clash often detracts from Stoker’s motifs of religious violence (i.e. crusades as a symbol of man’s failure & greed) societal collapse under an unstoppable juggernaut of modernity (a very real, and not entirely irrational, Victorian fear) and perceived internal apostasies (e.g. Darwinism, women’s lib etc) as harbingers of a moral & intellectual dark age culminating in the destruction of faith, order and civilisation itself. Screenwriter James V. Hart almost botches an otherwise interesting pre-credit origin story by fictionalizing aspects better told as fact, whilst the filmmakers desire to portray Vlad Tepes a.k.a. Vlad ‘The Impaler’ as some kind of tragic anti-hero, doesn’t work beyond a particularly thrilling, monstrous encounter with professor Van Helsing (Anthony Hopkins) towards the end. In Stoker’s novel, Dracula represents the worst of both worlds; a predatory, fanatical ideologue who exalts archaic delusions with lines like: “blood is too precious a thing in these days of dishonourable peace…” and “…glories of the great races are as a tale that is told”. Here, Drac never really convinces as having been part of ‘The Order Of The Dragon’: an ancient neo-pagan, proto-Masonic Christian cult who took part in many crusades alongside the Serbs and began hostilities against the Ottoman-Byzantine House of Sultan Okhan Bey Ibn Ghazi (eventually leading to the Islamic Turkish invasion & conquest of Europe). One of the main reasons why ‘Dracula’ was laughed off our screens in 92 was down to its inaccuracy: Not entirely faithful to the Irishman’s Gothic masterpiece (whose name only appears due to a last minute title change after ‘Dimension’ films secured the rights to ‘Dracula’ sans Stoker for their own film). Another was the oddball cast: Now what can you say about Keanu Reeves’s English accent that hasn’t already been said? the man is living proof that there is a God, and its His will that Keanu act no matter how inappropriate it may seem to the rest to us. Winona Ryder is stunning as usual, giving a good performance as Mina Harker; her character a metaphor for the advent of women’s lib in synch with emerging secular ideals; breaking away from Victorian repression towards an exhilarating, and dangerous new horizon. Anthony Hopkins gives the best performance by far, and seems to be the only actor who’s got the measure of the movie; playing fast & loose with his spot on portrayal of eccentric vampire killer Professor Van Helsing. Some say Van Helsing represents Protestantism’s last stand against both the anachronistic bloodlusts of its crusading predecessor, the looming threat of the industrial revolution as a pre-curser to another age of imperial tyranny / intra-faith corruption (i.e. Protestant colonialism of Asia, Africa, Australia and the Americas). Its an interesting theory, especially since Dracula is allegedly a close relative of Deutschland’s Saxe Cobourg Gotha (i.e. the British Royal family), Busch (i.e. George H.W. Bush & family) with the story representing a variety of symbolic acts associated with the so-called global elite. Also look out for an unexpectedly credible performance by Sadie Frost, yes Sadie ‘worst actress in the world’ Frost, who somehow manages to hold her own against Ryder, as the reinvigorated Count’s first victim; Lucy Westenra. Frost’s traumatic transition from giddy bride-to-be to bloodthirsty bride of Dracula is excellent, for the aesthetic, atmospheric brilliance of the sepulchre scene when she finally turns, is enhanced by her ability to look genuinely evil / lost to the dark side. I usually find her acting style intensely annoying, but credit where credits due: ‘Dracula’ easily ranks as Sadie’s finest hour. A visually arresting picture with plenty of cinematic flair (e.g. the peacock feathers to train tunnel transition, a nod to Bava with the Count’s eyes in the sky etc) ‘Dracula’ is a film I’ve grown to like over the years. And if, like me, you’re a Gary Oldman fan; then I’d definitely recommend watching the extras for some great rehearsal footage with Oldman taking himself far too seriously, scaring Winnoa Ryder with his outbursts (though to be fair, it must be frustrating to try and get the lines right) and generally acting up like a true ac-tour ought to. Fangs for the memory Francis.

9/10

A silly and misleading title if ever there was one; for what looks like a movie that’s about to blow the lid on Anakin Skywalker’s secret obsession with pullovers and the occasional sweater-vest, is actually an entertaining, if inherently absurd, sci-fi actioner based on a popular set of novels by Steven Gould. Hayden Christenson’s a jumper (i.e. teleportation powers) who, like a surreal combination of ‘Marvel’s’ Nightcrawler & Madcap, uses his gifts for larking about, robbing banks (all whacked off of Scooby Snacks) or picking up women. Needless to say, Hayden’s intercontinental gambado eventually draws the unwelcome attention of silver haired super villain Samuel L. Jackson (good to see old Jedis going tête-à-tête with the world as their battleground).

Director Doug Liman, whose helmed three of my favourite movies from the last decade (’Swingers’, ‘Go’ and ‘The Bourne Identity’) seems in as great a hurry to move onto his next project, as our protagonist is to escape the clutches of Jackson’s ruthless anti-Jumper death squad (he’s more of a all-in-one thermals man). Hayden Christensen continues to impress, despite receiving an awful lot of flack from audiences & critics alike, people don’t seem to appreciate that Hayden embodies the moody, aloof, mildly rebellious demeanour of classic Hollywood actors like Robert Stack & Sal Mineo Jr. Christensen, in much the same way as he did in ‘Episodes II & II’, grounds his character in a universally identifiable reality, though the script, which seems to exist solely as a springboard for future ‘Jumper’ sequels, gives him little to work with in terms of back story, and in that respect he’s a lot like Jason Bourne; not so much interacting, as colliding with would-be ally / jumper Griffin (Jamie Bell), vacuous love interest Millie (Rachel Bilson from the ‘OC’) and a variety of exotic locations. Some of the tricked out, hyper-kinetic camerawork was reminiscent of Kip Pardue’s euro trip in ‘Rules Of Attraction’ whilst a lot of the action scenes took their cues from John Woo’s ‘Paycheck’, the only problem being, that after ‘Heroes’; super feats that once wowed movie going audiences the world over, are now considered commonplace and mildly impressive, whilst the comic book sci-fi genre itself seems a little passé. ‘Jumper’ isn’t a great movie by any stretch; riddled with numerous plot holes, stupid scenes and annoyingly obvious sequel set ups, it just about makes up in pace what it lacks in substance; and since they’ve honed the teleportation effect, it can only be a matter of time before some bright spark gives Alan Cumming a call to reprise his role as Kurt *Bamph* Wager a.k.a. Nightcrawler. With good performances and a breezy, undemanding storyline, ‘Jumper’ ought to keep you entertained for 90 minutes, but will have teleported itself into the realms of obscurity, long before the end credits. Stylish, but forgettable fluff.

4/10