When we first see Angelina Jolie in The Tourist she's sashaying along Paris's chicest boulevards.
She's poised, immaculately dressed and coolly self-satisfied. You could say the same about the film. It's a classy number, all right, with a lauded co-writer and director, The Lives of Others' Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, and two co-writers, Christopher McQuarrie and Julian Fellowes, who both have cupboards full of awards. It's set in Venice's plushest hotels and grandest ballrooms; it has a shimmering orchestral score, and the cast is so good-looking that the film's idea of an ordinary Joe is Johnny Depp. But, like Jolie, The Tourist is too focused on being elegant to move any faster than walking pace.
This languorous tempo is all the more problematic considering that Jolie is being pursued by the police. A Scotland Yard detective (Paul Bettany) hopes she'll lead him to her lover, a mysterious master thief, and so, Jolie picks up a widowed maths teacher, Depp, on the train from Paris to Venice, the idea being that Bettany will mistake him for Britain's Most Wanted. The dumbstruck Depp is happy to go along with whatever Jolie suggests, even if it endangers his life.
The Tourist is an old-fashioned, romantic tribute to the glamorous thrillers that Cary Grant starred in 50 years ago. And now that action movies are so frenzied, there's something to be said for a film that keeps us waiting so long for a shot to be fired. But if you strip off the blankets of European finery, The Tourist is a daft crime romp involving gangsters, rooftop chases and ridiculous plot twists – and that kind of movie needs pizzazz, stunts and jokes more than it needs admiring views of haute couture. The Tourist is a vehicle that was built for comfort when it should have been built for speed. It's a step up from Knight and Day, this year's other would-be Hitchcock adventure about an innocent bystander being whisked away by a gorgeous stranger. But it's more of a promenade than a caper.
Three weeks ago, I grumbled about Harry Potter's Easter egg hunt for horcruxes and deathly hallows, but J K Rowling's round-the-houses plotting is streamlined compared with the meanderings in – deep breath – The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (3D). The third film of a series based on C S Lewis's Narnia novels, it zaps the two younger Pevensie children, Edmund (Skandar Keynes) and Lucy (Georgie Henley), back to the realm of fauns and minotaurs, along with their stuck-up cousin Eustace (Son of Rambow's Will Poulter). They're then taken aboard a ship captained by Caspian (Ben Barnes), their imperialist pal from the previous film. ("The giants of the north have surrendered unconditionally," he announces.) In his newly acquired English accent – he was sort-of Spanish last time – he tells them that the Narnians are under threat, yet again: this time they're being spirited away by a pale green mist. No, not a White Witch, or any other villain worthy of boos and hisses, but an adverse weather condition. The only way to defeat this dastardly pea-souper is to gather seven enchanted swords that have been scattered around a far-flung archipelago. Of course they have.
Instead of a battle between good and evil, then, what we get is an island-hopping cruise. And instead of using their own courage and ingenuity to find the swords, the heroes simply follow the directions they're given by various supernatural beings. First, there's a magician, then there's a fairy, and finally there's Aslan, the computer-generated lion who has the power to right all wrongs, but who prefers to let his beloved children suffer for a while before he steps in. If this capricious moggy is Lewis's avatar of Jesus, then you couldn't ask for a worse advertisement for Christianity.
Mind you, maybe the Pevensies don't deserve much help. Lucy is a narcissist, and Edmund keeps moaning that he's not getting the forelock-tugging deference that he's decided he merits. How feeble must the people of Narnia be if they turn to these posh pipsqueaks from Earth every time they get in trouble?
Nicholas Barber sees Tron Legacy, a sequel that took 28 years to arrive (and that's six more than Wall Street 2)
Also Showing: 12/12/2010
For Colored Girls...(133 mins, 15)
For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow Is Enuf is a series of 20 poetic monologues, first staged in 1975, that explores the hardships of African-American womanhood. But whose idea was it to adapt this quintessentially theatrical work into a movie melodrama, set in present-day Harlem, and to plonk the play's florid, beat poetry into the dialogue? And who wants to watch two-plus hours of domestic violence, infidelity, infertility, date rape, backstreet abortion, religious fanaticism, and empowering sermons?
A Serbian Film (104 mins, 18)
A former porn star signs up for an experimental art-porn project, and is soon brainwashed into raping and murdering his co-stars. A Serbian Film is already notorious for its all-round disgustingness, but its horrors might be justifiable if it weren't for the daytime-soap quality of the acting and cinematography, or the clunking speeches equating the sex crimes with the state of the nation.
The Thorn in the Heart (86 mins, PG)
Michel Gondry travels around rural France with his aunt, visiting the schools she taught in when he was a child. It's a genial documentary, but essential viewing only if your surname is Gondry.
On Tour (111 mins, 15)
Rambling, rollicking comedy drama directed by Mathieu Amalric, who also stars as the manager of an American burlesque show which is touring France's ports.
Enemies of the People (93 mins)
Sobering documentary about the 10-year mission by Cambodian journalist Thet Sambath to interview Khmer Rouge killers, including Pol Pot's second in command.