*
Poor adaptation of A. J. Quinnell's novel -- made infinitely worse by Scott's psychotic direction -- is almost criminal waste of Denzel Washington's talent and the audience's time. John Creasy, a burnt-out counter-terrorist operative, takes a job as the bodyguard for a nine-year-old girl in Mexico City; when she is kidnapped, he vows violent revenge on everyone involved. Quinnell himself liked the picture, which in itself should be enough to give the rest of us pause. For all its blood and pyrotechnics, this is decidedly a more soft-boiled version of the story, as it turns Creasy from a man repaying a debt into a pathetic loser who claims to be fighting for a child but who in reality is merely using her as an excuse in his quest for personal redemption. It's also softer in the head: the way the movie ends, unlike the book, makes a mockery of Creasy's entire mission. After a terrible opening -- featuring Scott's heavily tricked up photography and editing -- the film settles down for awhile as little Pita (Dakota Fanning) teaches Creasy how to be human. In spite of the miscasting -- not that Fanning isn't good (she is), but she (and her mother) should have been Hispanic -- this part of the film is actually good. Beginning with the kidnapping, however, Scott's worst instincts take over and the rest is a jumbled, pretentious mess that makes momentous occasions out of "events" like opening a car door. Eight years later, director Scott committed suicide.
Poor adaptation of A. J. Quinnell's novel -- made infinitely worse by Scott's psychotic direction -- is almost criminal waste of Denzel Washington's talent and the audience's time. John Creasy, a burnt-out counter-terrorist operative, takes a job as the bodyguard for a nine-year-old girl in Mexico City; when she is kidnapped, he vows violent revenge on everyone involved. Quinnell himself liked the picture, which in itself should be enough to give the rest of us pause. For all its blood and pyrotechnics, this is decidedly a more soft-boiled version of the story, as it turns Creasy from a man repaying a debt into a pathetic loser who claims to be fighting for a child but who in reality is merely using her as an excuse in his quest for personal redemption. It's also softer in the head: the way the movie ends, unlike the book, makes a mockery of Creasy's entire mission. After a terrible opening -- featuring Scott's heavily tricked up photography and editing -- the film settles down for awhile as little Pita (Dakota Fanning) teaches Creasy how to be human. In spite of the miscasting -- not that Fanning isn't good (she is), but she (and her mother) should have been Hispanic -- this part of the film is actually good. Beginning with the kidnapping, however, Scott's worst instincts take over and the rest is a jumbled, pretentious mess that makes momentous occasions out of "events" like opening a car door. Eight years later, director Scott committed suicide.
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