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The DaVinci Code
Oh dear, oh dear. Dreadful, hateful book, turned into a loathsome, awful film. Come on Andy, don’t sit on the fence. Alright, let’s get down to brass tacks.
What about the book?
Clearly the man can write a thriller, but he is desperately in need of an editor who asks questions about background, motivation, development, story arc and, most importantly, characterisation.
And now the movie
Sadly, none of the people who believe in God come across as credible; Langdon, who prays but has no faith is the nearest to a sympathetic figure, yet he’s just a collection of learning who dislikes enclosed spaces due to a childhood fright. Ho hum.
Most bizarre line of any thriller ever written, least likely to get the pulses racing: ‘We need to get to a Library.’ For crying out loud, that’s so dull, we just about forgive our heroes (stretching the term beyond patience) for getting on a bus – but they don’t bother to find a RouteMaster or a BendyBus or anything interesting, even then.
Even Doc Ock fails to chill, and he’s usually great; but the misguided Bishop doesn’t come over with any gravitas at all, and when he stops a bullet, no-one gives a Hail Mary.
On the other hand
It’s just that he’s given little to do, except smile with that marvellous Richard Briars twinkle; face slightly tilted downward, eyes rolling, playful expression crossing his lips. He’s the only good thing in the movie, apart from the art, and does so well I thought more about his darkly brooding nazi-esque Richard III or his wretched and odd-haired John Profumo (Scandal) than I did about Magneto or Gandalf, or Mel Hutchwright (X-Men, LotR, Corrie).
It pains me to have to give this film a score using my version of Leonardo’s iconic image, since he’s so severely rubbished by association.