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Fans of the comic book movie genre have had it pretty good over the past few
years: the X-Men and Spider-Man films, Ghost World,
Road to Perdition, American Splendor and Batman Begins
have all been not only great adaptations of their literary sources, but also
damn fine pieces of cinema.
With the good, of course, comes the bad: Catwoman,
Daredevil, Constantine and League of Extraordinary
Gentlemen, among others, are films dreadful enough to make one wish that
they never saw the light of day, either as a film or comic book. The
long-gestating film version of Fantastic Four, one of the oldest of
the Marvel Comics, falls into the latter.
Four is the story of five people who are dramatically altered by a
mysterious cloud during a space mission. Inventor Reed Richards (Ioan
Gruffudd) gains the ability to stretch his body. His former girlfriend, Sue
Storm (Jessica Alba), can turn invisible and create force fields. Her
younger brother, Johnny (Chris Evans), gains the ability to control and
cover his entire body with fire, while Ben Grimm (Michael Chiklis) is turned
into a super-strong rock creature.
Then there is Victor Von Doom (Julian McMahon), the fifth member and
financier of the mission. An arrogant man who happens to be Sue's new beau,
Vic slowly begins to turn metallic, a transformation that amps up his jerk
factor tenfold, making him the bane of the Four's existence.
Fantastic Four is a film that causes the viewer to ponder the following:
"What were they thinking?" "Were they thinking at all?" and most
importantly, "What was I thinking for sitting through this?" Directed by Tim
Story (Barbershop) from a screenplay credited to Michael France, Mark
Post and an army of uncredited chimpanzees chained to typewriters,
Four is nothing but one long, boring, expository-filled set up devoid
of any adequate payoff.
Our four heroes are supposed to be smart and charismatic, but they show
little in the way of intelligence and even less allure than one of the
zombies you would find in a George Romero film. They amble in and around New
York City, arguing and fighting with each other while trying to deal with
their new powers rather than banding together to fight Dr Doom, the film's
alleged bad guy who is about as menacing as bathtub mold. Their big
showdown, complete with the bargain-basement visual effects the plague the
rest of the film, is the textbook example of the word "underwhelming".
A lousy screenplay is one thing; a director who is completely out of his
league is another. Spider-Man, X-Men and Batman Begins
were lucky enough to have directors who were also comic book fans. Watching
this movie, you have to wonder if Story has ever even glanced at an
issue of Fantastic Four in his life. He coaxes lazy performances out
of his entire cast, save Chiklis and Evans, he can't keep a consistent tone
from one scene to the next (unless you count dull as a tone) and his
handling of the film's action scenes (all two of them!) is the stuff of
1970s syndicated television.
Fantastic Four may not be the worst comic book adaptation made to
date, but it certainly is one of the most underwhelming and forgettable. If
there is a sequel, the producers would be wise to start from scratch, yet
again.
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