REVIEW - DEAD MAN DOWN

This is one hell of a hybrid. I don't opine that a film ought to know what sort of a film it is, but I do opine that it ought to have confidence in what sort of a film it thinks it is. Dead Man Down may be an action thriller that wants to be a romantic drama, or a romantic drama that wants to be an action thriller. The screenplay is by an American who seems to be aiming for a European tone, the direction is by a Dane who seems to be aiming for an American tone. And, in the muddle, the whole team seems to be aiming for the most middle-of-the-road, standard-issue tone possible, and if so, they have succeeded. Noomi Rapace and Colin Farrell have a believable chemistry (wisely, Farrell's dialogue is kept to a minimum), which makes their scenes together fizz a little, in a strange sort of way that doesn't quite take hold until once the moment has passed, although they, and the plot on the whole, run circles around the point they're trying to reach, and even apparently do reach once or twice, before resuming this intolerable search. And around and around Dead Man Down goes, ambling through needlessly complex subplots without getting anywhere, neglecting key characters for enormous stretches of time, and eventually arriving at a conclusion which we all could have guessed (and probably all did anyway). There's a whole lot going on here, by the way, so much that it's hardly worth bothering to keep up - maybe the sluggish pace allows for some clarity, but it barely helps - and the climactic shoot-out obliterates any and all issues of plot in that old Hollywood logic that driving a truck into a house and throwing bombs at people erases all your problems. Starring Noomi Rapace as a Frenchwoman with a Swedish accent, Colin Farrell as a Hungarian with an Irish accent, and Dominic Cooper as an American with goodness-knows-what accent.