I Make Movie Review-Angels and Demons

Let's start off with a proclamation of heresy-I liked The Da Vinci Code. Was it Schindler's List> Hellz no. But it had an intriguing visual language, a spry Ian McKellen, and an Indiana Jones-esque one-thing-after-another quality that made it a modestly entertaining diversion. All three of these things are missing from Angels and Demons, the ham-fisted, irritatingly tame adaptation of what was actually Dan Brown's best novel. The set-up?? Robert Langdon (Tom Hanks, with hair and emotional connection cut) and physicist Vittoria Vetra (Ayelet Zurer looks totally lost) work with the Vatican to stop an ancient organization from killing four cardinals eligible for election to the papacy--a grisly act that the villains plan to cap off by blowing Vatican City sky high. It's a far-fetched, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants premise that works best as a pulpy, spirited joy ride--the kind the book provides. But Howard and screenwriters Akiva Goldsman and David Koepp have missed the point, providing a sloppy, static exercise in how not to stage the page onscreen. The script is so off-kilter it defies explanation. Readers of the book, remember that shocking twist about a not-so-celibate clergyman?? Gone. Remember the Lecter-esque glimpses into the mind of the Hassassin (Nikolaj Lie Kaas, who does what he can under the circumstances)?? Axed. What remerges is a shapeless, ungainly blend of half-hearted chases, PG-13-safe murders, and interminable stretches of exposition that-even when being delivered by the welcome voices of Stellan Skarsgard and Armin-Muehler Stall-drag the movie down like a lead weight. There's also an overdone score, a hokey CGI helicopter, an unintentionally hilarious opening scene that belongs in a bad Hammer horror flick, and poor, poor Ewan McGregor, miscast in the pivotal role of the Camerlengo, the caretaker of the throne in between the death of one pope and the election of the next. The Camerlengo is the heart of the story, the quiet man whose fervent faith is supposed to bring some emotional urgency to the ticking-bomb plot. But McGregor, his Scottish lilt doing him no favors, is given a series of big, clunky speeches about belief and morality that fall noticeably flat. Only in a cleverly edited escape from an oxygen-deprived chamber does the movie truly lift off. Otherwise, this Angel remains infuriatingly stuck to the ground it's entire 138 minutes. There are worse movies out there. Rarely, however, has there been a more disappointing one. D+