In Disney and Jerry Bruckheimer’s oddly lethargic “Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time,” our rakish hero Dastan (Jake Gyllenhaal, trying mightily to maintain dignity) has a magical dagger that, when triggered, hurtles you backwards in time, in a showy, glittery visual effects potpourri. About a half hour into this labored epic and you’ll wish you had a similar device so you could prevent yourself from buying a ticket (especially if “How to Train Your Dragon” is still playing at your local bijou or you realize that you’ve still got another hour-and-a-half to go in this endless slog).
Based on the Ubisoft videogame of the same name (you can only assume this thing makes more sense if you have a controller in your hand), “Prince of Persia” is a cluttered but rudderless mess, a summer blockbuster devoid of any wonder or excitement beyond occasionally pausing to wonder, with elaborate sets and hundreds of ornately costumed extras, just how much this thing cost. You can only assume a lot.
But what does hundreds of millions of dollars get you? Well, whirling dust devils, sweeping computer-rendered vistas full of domed kingdoms, galloping ostriches and venomous snakes leaping out of the sand, their fangs extended and ready to strike. What all that money doesn’t buy is a workable script (there are four credited writers with at least two more providing material) that is in the least bit coherent, punchy, or emotionally engaging.
Trying to untangle the plot is a fool’s errand, but it has something to do with Dastan, a street urchin (like Aladdin!) who is made a prince by a kindly Persian ruler (Ronald Pickup) because of his gumption and “heart.” Dastan grows up, alongside actual princes (Richard Coyle and Toby Kebbell, both actors who are in other Disney extravaganzas later this year) and a scheming uncle (Sir Ben Kingsley). The movie tries to shift focus away from Kingsley but the audience knows better: good guys don’t have goatees like that.
The object of lust for not only Kingsley but a squad of scarred, whirlwind-riding, viper-controlling assassins he’s hired, as well as a comely lass (Gemma Arterton) is the aforementioned magical knife. Pushing a button on the top of the dagger activates the titular “sands of time,” and while this plot device sounds mighty fun (it’s like a hand-held Delorean!) and could have equaled some spectacular suspense set pieces, it’s used sparingly and when the dagger is used, the results underwhelm. Yes, the idea of time literally fluttering back in a thousand tiny sand-like particles is sort of neat; the actual execution is an entirely different matter altogether.
“Prince of Persia’s” director, Mike Newell, previously helmed fluffy romantic comedies “Four Weddings and a Funeral” and “Mona Lisa Smile,” with his only previous “event” movie being one of the lesser “Harry Potter” sequels. Newell directs the action sequences with an old school staginess, occasionally throwing in a computer-assisted swirling camera move or some sub-“Bourne” shutter but no matter what he tries, we’re never really involved. No matter how much is going on, we as an audience are never actually having much fun.
Part of this has to do with the wooden acting, not only by an out-of-sorts Jake Gyllenhaal but also Gemma Arterton, who is so good in this summer’s soft-boiled thriller “The Disappearance of Alice Creed” but here is given the most ludicrous dialogue, and forced to deliver it with apocalyptic importance (which brings to mind her equally lousy performance in this spring’s “Clash of the Titans” remake). All the bad guys and royal types are bores, with the lone bright spot being Alfred Molina, who seems to elevate the movie infinitely whenever he’s on screen. As a tax-evading, ostrich-racing lowlife, his energy is infectious and during his sequences he actually tricks you into thinking you’re watching a movie that might actually be enjoyable. But then he disappears and someone rattles on about the end of the world and you zone out again. This is fairly typical of the “Prince of Persia” viewing experience.
Besides Molina, the only other time you’ll even be mildly engaged by this super-sized nap-inducer is when the script delivers heavy-handed modern overtones. The entire first act is consumed with a kingdom that supposedly possesses weapons of mass destruction but really doesn’t. The word “occupation” is even thrown around. Expect uncontrolled eye-rolling to spontaneously erupt in theaters nationwide. “Prince of Persia: Sands of Time” is a big summer movie designed to remind you of other big summer movies that you already know and love, mostly Bruckheimer and Disney’s “Pirates of the Caribbean” films (the roguish, mildly effeminate hero with shit twirled into his hair and the seemingly straightforward story woven with magical elements). But “Prince of Persia” isn’t fooling anybody. It’s time for something else. [D]
