Is Wiseman actually inviting a kicking with this unnecessary remake? It doesn't take a great wit to walk out of this and quip that the hack director seems to be hoping that the viewer has as little recollection of the past as the film's protagonist. The 1990 Schwarzenegger original may not have been high art, but it was
fun. The additions here are just a coating of modish dystopian grimness and an even higher tempo and bodycount. It's a joyless exercise spawned by the cynical calculation that enough fans of the older film will pay just to revisit a fondly remembered universe, hoping against hope for the best, rather like the case was with Lucas's milking of the
Star Wars cash cow.
The casting is weaker, too: Colin Farrell just looks bewildered, and Wiseman has done his missus Kate Beckinsale no favours by again shoehorning her in, as Farrell's murderous wife, as this means that the wooden dear has to be compared to Sharon Stone, who stuck in the memory more despite having only a tenth of her screentime. Meanwhile, Bill Nighy has the good sense to get himself shot and out to cash his cheque after about two lines.
3/10
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