★ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
The body of a young boy lies on a cold slab. A doctor slowly
removes the child’s brain, in search of a tumour that could be the key to
solving a terrible crime. Restless detectives wait with baited breath. And in the back row, someone is snoozing.
Anthony Hopkins is the star of this incandescently dull mystery
thriller, as is his dreadful hair: think Rutger Hauer, only without the talent.
A killer with a unique way of offing his victims is on the loose, so FBI agents
Joe Merriweather (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) and Katherine Cowles (poor Abbie Cornish
mired yet again) draft in Joe’s old friend John Clancy (Hopkins) to assist in
the search.
Oh, and John has psychic powers, too. It’s never fully
explained, and everyone seems perfectly happy with it. No-one ever says “Um,
shouldn’t this guy be studied, questioned or hired full-time?” The closest we
come to any kind of curiosity emerges from Cowles’ careerist cop, and even then
her questions are deflected by Hopkins’ irritable dialogue. Cornish does what
she can to salvage a poorly-constructed role, but Morgan and Hopkins lapse
right into the deadpan script as though it were scented bathwater.
I thought twice about bringing up a player who arrives
towards the end for fear of spoilers, but his name is plastered so heavily over
what posters the distributor could be bothered to put up that I’m just gonna go
ahead: shock horror, it’s Colin ‘Please go see me in The Lobster instead’ Farrell! And what a surprise, turns out he’s
just as placid and lifeless as his cohorts! I would say that’s the closest
thing to consistency we’re going to discover in Solace, but the predictability and unintentional hilarity are steadfast
features, also.
This is cinematic mystery in its most boilerplate, tab A
into slot B form. The acting is boring, the camerawork is veiled in an ugly grey
and the music choices are laughable; everything about it just sends you into a stupor.
The barest glimpse of a decent supernatural premise is given an overdose of
sleeping pills and doesn’t wake up.
