![]() But is it a time machine that a desperate cop could use to travel back to stop the bombing from ever happening? (The answer to this question is provided early on when someone yells something along the lines of, “You absolutely cannot send someone through the field - it’s just too risky!”)īill Marsilli and Terry Rossio’s often witty screenplay wrestles briefly with the paradoxes of time-travel before giving in after about half an hour, while Paula Patton is disappointingly bland as the love interest (though she is saddled with the inconvenience of being technically dead for most of the movie). It’s convenient for his investigation that the government boffins have knocked up a device that can peer precisely four-and-a-half days into the past. Time travel is the excuse for the big bangs this time, with Denzel Washington employing his unassailable screen charm as the government agent investigating the spectacular bombing of a New Orleans ferry. ![]() ![]() Brain-befuddling trash, then, but brain-befuddling trash from a master of the dark craft. Tony Scott’s latest film is, appropriately given the title, exactly like every other Tony Scott film: an experience akin to being beaten about the head with a hose while Hans Zimmer (or in this case Harry Gregson-Williams) turns his Minimoog up to 11. Using a single fixed camera and only one rudimentary set, he patiently records the emotional disintegration of a widowed. Tony Scott’s latest film, a distinct change of direction for the veteran director of Top Gun and Man On Fire, is a downbeat investigation of the paralysing nature of grief.
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