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FILM REVIEWS

Out of this 'Darkness' comes lite
By Mike Clark
USA Today

When Michael Douglas' wild-eyed hunter bursts in halfway through the sluggish The Ghost and the Darkness (*1/2 out of four), smirking for all the world like dad Kirk, the energy level is raised along with our hopes. Maybe he'll save the day and this stodgy, true-life thriller about a pair of man-eating lions that terrorized bridge builders in 1896 Africa.

No such luck. Douglas prances and chants with crimson-haired tribesmen who look like they were styled by Dennis Rodman. He talks a good game. (Why does he kill? "Because I've got a gift.") But he is trapped by the same undernourished script as the rest of the cast. Secondary characters are fleshed out so little, they should simply wear labels that say "kitty snacks."

The Ghost doesn't go "boo," just "grrrr" - loud and often. Despite mumbo jumbo about the lions being supernatural demons unleashed by the imperialistic white man, it's nothing more than Jaws with claws. An idealistic engineer overseeing the project (Val Kilmer) tries to halt the slaughter but is in over his head. A brute of a boss wants the span built no matter what (Tom Wilkinson, a stocky stock villain). A cagey old-timer thinks he can tame nature (Douglas, no Robert Shaw). There's even "DUH-dum . . . DUH-dum" music. But instead of telltale ocean ripples, tall amber grass waves ominously in the wind. You'll get scared only if you mow lawns for a living.

The first sign of trouble: shots of galloping wildlife, the kind of cliched panorama that opens nearly every B movie about the Dark Continent. Those into blood lust will be most disappointed. The attacks are murkily staged and, worse, the film cheats by killing a key character offscreen.

Kilmer looks GQ-handsome in his stained-just-so safari garb. But his part has no teeth. Neither does the script with its hoary tricks. Kilmer trades guns at the last minute before facing the beasts. Think it might misfire? There's much manly rumination about facing your fears, but it's the movie that wimps out.

The director is Stephen Hopkins (Predator 2, Blown Away) - no surprise there. But shame on screenwriter William Goldman, who every so often pithily dissects the ways and woes of Hollywood in New York magazine. There are Tarzan sequels more rousing than this. (R: violence, profanity)

 

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