What a disjointed disappointing disaster of a movie. The plot is a confusing patchwork of political nonsense. The dialog lapses often into trite clichés. The editing is choppy, the acting is mediocre, the pacing is poor. There were more than twenty producers involved, but clearly, Pierce Brosnan was the force behind it. His Irish Dream Time Company was one of the producers and he is by far the biggest name in the movie – although former Bond girl Olga Kurylenko also plays a substantial role. As Alice, she never really connects with the woman she plays – or with Peter, who is her protector and love interest. As Peter, Brosnan tries for a James Bond sense of cool but comes off as arrogant, insensitive, and disinterested in the role he’s in. And there are so many other faceless and unconvincing killers and others roaming the landscape, filling the screen without a sense of purpose.
What makes this movie particularly disappointing is that it was directed by Roger Donaldson, who nine years ago made one of my favorite movies of all time. Called “World’s Fastest Indian,” it was the true story of a character played by Anthony Hopkins who restored a motorcycle so he could race against the clock. It was a wonderful film that brought tears to my eyes and a lump to my throat and reminded me so much of my own Dad. And, unlike this movie, it had no sex or violence or characters who needed to pepper their conversations with four-letter words. If you need another reason to stay away from the theatre until movies get better, “The November Man” will provide one.
LOS ANGELES FILM REVIEW 