Jumper

Talk about disappointing. Director Doug Liman exuded style and cool in Swingers, Go and The Bourne Identity. He lost his way in the star bloat of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and now his mojo is buried in this amped-up sci-fi chase flick. It took three screenwriters to turn Steven Gould's novel into an unholy mess. Hayden Christensen, the kiss of death in movies since giving us the nightmare wimp version of Anakin Skywalker in the Star Wars prequels, does a lot of posing as David Rice, called Rice Bowl by the bullies of hiseighborhood in Ann Arbor, Michigan. David can jump (teleport) himself anywhere in the world, which allows Christensen to pose on the clock face of Big Ben, have lunch on top of a pyramid and rob a bank for quick cash. Hey, he leaves IOUs. Samuel L. Jackson, in scary white hair, wants to kill him. His girlfriend (Rachel Bilson, looking eager to jump back to The O.C.) wants to screw him between jumps. And Jamie Bell, the film's saving grace as a fellow jumper, wants to save him. Got that? It's not worth getting. Everything goes by in a blur. After eighty-eight incomprehensible minutes, all I wanted was for Liman to jump back in time and make Jumper go away.

From The Archives Issue 326: September 18, 1980
x