Marcus Nispel, I’m calling you out, you talentless hack. You have $90m, McGowan, Lang, and Momoa, a fairly decent script, a professional crew, sets, efx artists- the lot, and what do you do? You lay a giant turd. Every single shot (and I mean every. Single. Shot.) in this movie is so poorly staged you will have no clue where anyone is or what they’re doing there. It’s so godawful that even in widescreen this thing looks pan and scan.
This mightn't have been so bad if the script were equally terrible, but it isn’t- so you’re forced to watch as Nispel’s pure unadulterated ineptitude murders every single good idea in turn. Who needs an establishing shot? Not Marcus Nispel. Who shoots a chase scene in close ups? A talentless hack named Marcus Nispel, that’s who. Why is Rose McGowen (who should have been inroduced in some epically badass way) introduced like an extra, and shot so awkwardly that she immediately loses all mystic? Because Marcus Nispel thought it was cool. Who puts together a major battle scene without offering the audience any sense of geography or scale? Why, that would be Marcus Nispel. Who is under the misguided impression that wanton use of slow-mo makes everything instantly better? Marcus Nispel. Who told Stephan Lang that he should act like he was the villain in a muppet movie? Marcus Nispel. What type of cheap digital muckery was going on when that monk chick was hanging off the bridge at the end? The type approved by Marcus Nispel. Just who the hell are the bad guys, and how the hell did they get onto that boat? Marcus Nispel doesn’t think you deserve to know.
In summery, this film is for the (very) easily pleased, and the undemanding members of Marcus Nispel’s family only. AVOID.