So I haven’t seen ‘The Da Vinci Code’, mostly because it got awful reviews and after my initial fascination with the topic of Dan Browns novel, I had the same realisation that most people had; it was shamelessly exploitive writing - keeling over in well researched symbology and history and ultimately some headline grabbing revisions of parts of the Catholic faith, but shameless in its short chapter, cliff hanger style writing. It did well, and no amount of snobbery can deny the fact I was gripped to it, I just feel a little bit used for falling for it so easily. Consequently, there was no logical reason to go see the sequel to that novels movie adaptation, which again is being lampooned by critics though a huge financial success. Last night, after a stressful day, some fatalistic, masochistic urge swelled up inside me and I found myself queuing for a ticket.

You could say that familiarity with the novel would impede the potential tension or pace of the movie, but the fact of the matter is that familiarity with puke doesn’t impede the enjoyment of alcohol, something that entertains can surely be adapted to entertain in another medium. Instead this movie is just plain stupid. Never once is there any sense of threat, its categorisation as a thriller is as justified as calling Barb Wire, a film noir. They can chase through the streets of Rome all they like, have cameras pan around the characters, get lost in cavernous ancient churches and worry about how a substance involved in the dawn of creation will destroy the Vatican City, but you will sit there for 2 hours and wonder why you should give any hint of a dam. The movie is like a luke warm cup of tea, that you feel obliged to finish, and there isn’t a chance of a hot drop on offer. I don’t drink tea, but I am confident in this metaphor.

The movie has a dense, detail filled novel to do justice to, and rather than take elements of the legend of the Illuminati or attempt to edit out the cumbersome layers of history and hidden messages, the movie makers hire Tom Hanks to act as a human encyclopedia as central character Robert Langdon. He could be called a protagonist, but that would suggest some sort of emotive interaction between him and the viewer which never surfaces due to Hanks having to handle hammy lines (’It’s a pentagon’) and play a part normally reserved for background nerdlinger characters. The emotional roller coaster of the chase around Rome on the page never transfers to the screen, the decision was smartly made to not have the leads fall into bed, the characters are too busy remembering random facts to propel the story than ever form a connection or chemistry. Neither does a single other actor make an impression despite some illustrious character actors numbering among the cardinals and hierarchy of the Vatican City. What motivation Ewan McGregor had for taking on this role other than the ringing of a cash register is one of the multiple questions you may ponder briefly before actually forgetting you ever saw this movie, your coping mechanism kicking in to safe guard his and Hanks good names.  

Everyone is background, with an ever more ludicrous set of events being the sole purpose of the film. If you are familiar with the novel, you will treated to a summary of the novel with the soap opera ending cut off. This has no profound impact – the progression to the reveal of the bad guy and master plan is as obvious as a Charlie Sheen one liner. With the extra layer to the villains motivation truncated the film thankfully doesnt outstay its welcome length wise (though still runs over 2 hours) and the film is such a paper weight construct that no one will feel especially aggrieved to be spared another half hour of riddles and rhymes.

Verdict: Stupid, stupid movie – not insulting enough to make you mad, but not brainless enough to be a worthwhile distraction.