The Da Vinci Code review

Ron Howard's big screen version of Dan Brown's bestseller is as good, or as bad, as the source novel itself, depending on your point of view. If you're one of the millions who devoured the book and lapped up its controversial message - that Jesus consummated his relationship with Mary Magdalene and produced a blood line - then it's all there on the screen for you. If, on the other hand, you regard the whole phenomenon as some form of mass hysteria, then the film is unlikely to dispel your concerns.

Brown's book has been praised and discounted in equal measure by ardent fans and skeptical critics, and the film adaptation will no doubt thrive on the worldwide debate it has created - this is a bona fide critic-proof affair which looks a cert to become the year's biggest hit.

Howard and screenwriter Akiva Goldsman are faithful to Brown, and transcribe the breakneck speed of his thriller into a work that brings to mind the ‘international' films of the 1970s: colourful exotic locations, a cast that speaks several languages, and plenty of set-piece dramatic moments. Why then is the end result a rather turgid affair?

Perhaps the answer lies in the fact that it is a self-conscious film, so aware of the brouhaha it is involved in that it is impossible for it to reach any level of greatness. Or, more likely, could the answer lie in the contested chestnut that is Brown's plot? While his novel may be suitable for a quick read on the tube, on the big screen its use of coincidence, disregard for any evident sense of logic and near total reliance on mini-crisis after mini-crisis all give it a hollow ring.

Another glaring issue is the characterization, or rather lack thereof. As the symbologist Robert Langdon, Tom Hanks barely has one dimension to work with and wanders through the film with a great deal of intent but very little effect: it's a feeling shared by his co-stars who all act as if they believe they are doing something very important but are not sure why. Jean Reno's policier Fache is so inept in his attempts to hunt down Langdon, for example, that some viewers may think they have mistakenly sat down at a screening of Steve Martin's The Pink Panther.

Since a large majority of the audience will already know the ending, it's very difficult for The Da Vinci Code to succeed even as a moderately successful thriller. Ron Howard is still capable of making great films, as he showed with last year's Cinderella Man, but here the chalice he has inherited is tainted if not poisoned. Not that any of this will prevent it topping a likely billion dollars in worldwide revenue once all the t-shirts, books, puzzles, mugs and yes, even DVDs have been sold.

Paul Hurley