Movie review: ‘Next’

BY MAGGIE SCOTT

Nicolas Cage could be considered one of Hollywood’s grand older men after a quarter century of film work, beginning (as Nicolas Coppola) with a bit part in Fast Times at Ridgemont High in 1982 and currently starring in director Lee Tamahori’s thriller, “Next.”

Cage has been a leading man in a variety of genres for a number of years; and has been convincing and occasionally outstanding in comedy, action adventure, sci-fi and dramas of varying esoteric content. Unfortunately, “Next” does not add any luster to his resume, through no fault of his own; although one wonders what possessed him to agree to the frightful wig he sports for the part of Cris Johnson, an illusionist under-wowing Las Vegas lounge audiences as the “Amazing!” Frank Cadillac.

Mr. Cage has eased into maturity as a lot of men do, retaining a fit body and a relatively unlined, attractive face. But, he is in his early 40s. That makes his pairing with the newly-turned 25-year-old Jessica Biel a bit of a stretch and a bit more of an irritation that once again Hollywood seeks to use only the freshest, most attractive actresses for any part that calls for sex.

In contrast, the fully desirable and capable actress Julianne Moore rips off a fierce portrayal in “Next” of an FBI agent determined to thwart nuclear disaster. Although it’s obvious from the minor demands Ms. Biel’s role encompasses that Moore chose the better part, she would have made a more convincing romantic match for Cage. This quibble is not the major difficulty with this film.

Cris not only is a clever prestidigitator, he was born with an unusual talent: He can see two minutes into his own future. Various resented attempts apparently were made since he was a child to analyze this curious phenomenon. Inexplicably, it doesn’t appear that Cris has ever capitalized on this talent beyond cashing in a few extra chips from the casino tables. Indeed, he appears in the opening scenes to be someone not unacquainted with being on the skids or very nearly so.

As a more or less innocent bystander, Cris is drawn into a plan to detonate a nuclear device in Los Angeles. With plot holes opening practically from the get-go, the movie never clearly identifies the terrorists (French?), and it’s vague about how Agent Callie (Moore) has discovered Cris’s crystal ball gift.

Appealing to his patriotism and common decency, Callie tries convincing Cris that somehow he can help the Bureau figure out where the bomb will be deployed. Not feeling particularly altruistic, Cris takes to his heels with the FBI and the terrorists in pursuit.

Before making himself completely scarce, Cris keeps his usual appointment with what he hopes is his romantic destiny at a Vegas diner; where he awaits the entrance of an entrancing woman he has been dreaming about. As the clock hits the time at which Cris has “seen” the girl enter the diner in his visions, Cris eagerly looks at the door.

Time and time before, she has not appeared. But, this time, it’s different. Liz (Biel) is there, strolling toward a booth and drawing every eye to her. Difficulty with a boyfriend who isn’t happy being told to get lost, is Cris’s opportunity (along with his two-minute warning gift) to get her attention. Somehow convincing her that he’s not a psycho, Cris hitches a ride with Liz into canyon country where romance blossoms and the fate of some eight million people gets closer to annihilation.

Ultimately, Cris is really only interested in the fate of one person, and she quickly becomes a pawn of both the terrorists and the FBI. A lengthy search sequence for Liz before the multiple explosives on her chest can be detonated provides the most sustained and effective white-knuckle moments; but also induces the clearest feelings of derision for the story’s time gimmick that is unconvincingly made to fit the needs of the story; a story that is ordinary in the extreme without it.

A Revolution Studios/Saturn Films production, Paramount Pictures release, rated PG-13 for intense sequences of violent action, language.

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