If nothing else, Ron Howard seems determined to make at least one good film based on Dan Brown’s bestselling Robert Langdon book series. That’s perhaps the only real explanation for why he returned to the director’s chair for “Inferno,” the follow to 2006’s “The Da Vinci Code” and 2009’s largely-forgotten continuation “Angels & Demons.” Much like “Alex Cross” and, most recently, “Jack Reacher: Never Go Back” and “The Girl on the Train,” something is, once again, sorely lost in the transition from page-to-screen. Whatever inspired the compulsively addictive (I assume) fast-selling book series isn’t found in yet another dull, tiresome race-against-the-clock European mystery thriller with a historical twist.
Robert Langdon (Tom Hanks), quite possibly the world’s most famous symbologist, is back, but his memory isn’t. Upon waking up in a hospital bed in Florence, Italy with a nasty gash on his noggin, ER doctor Sienna Brooks (Felicity Jones) informs him that he received head trauma from a grazed bullet, and that he’s currently afflicted with mild amnesia. His clothes bloodied, his wallet, phone, watch and identification missing, and his condition worsening with severe hellish hallucinations, he’s met with only more confusion when a police officer (Ana Ularu) comes charging towards his hospital bed like a Terminator waiting to shower him in bullets. Quick on her feet, Sienna sneaks Robert out of the hospital and then promptly tags along for his latest adventure, which will find him unravelling the mystery behind one of Dante’s most popular pieces of literature.
The clues have been laid out by Bertrand Zobrist (Ben Foster), a billionaire geneticist with some radical ideas towards human evolution. With the planet sustaining nearly eight billion people at once, Earth is on the verge of its next mass extinction: our own. If we don’t level the playing field, we’ll all be doomed like the dinosaurs. His solution? A lethal virus that would wipe out half of the world’s population. That is, if Langdon and Sienna don’t reach him in time.
Howard isn’t the most experimental filmmaker in the world, but with films like “Cinderella Man” and 2013’s overlooked “Rush,” it’s evident that, the more inspired he is, the more he’ll push himself beyond his generally conventional methods. Even 2000’s misshapen “How the Grinch Stole Christmas,” for all its various faults, showed some visual flair. But beyond some nightmarish visions inspired by Dante’s titular text, however, there’s very little in “Inferno” that shows any kind of inspiration on Howard’s part. It feels like a movie made for the sole purpose of existing as a movie.
And as such, the talented cast is wasted on yet another sluggish, meandering sequel with few rewards. Jones is given a role with little range. Omar Sy is squandered in a part that fails to utilize his gifts, and the very same can be said for Irrfan Khan, playing the head of a consulting company. Foster’s villainous character is an interesting one, made all the more appealing by the actor’s distinct on-screen presence, but the film’s surprisingly compelling antagonist is uniformly disregarded throughout, forcing the talented “Hell or High Water” star to give only a mere glimpse into the character that could’ve been. As for Hanks, a performer with nearly endless charisma, he does what he can once again with Langdon, but there’s little use. With Brown, Howard and returning screenwriter David Koepp seemingly out of inspiration, Hanks is left going through-the-motions, disheveled, exhausted and searching for value. Like the character’s memory, however, that won’t be found easily. But that’s the running theme of “Inferno,” which practically refuses to be interesting or fun. This largely humorless sequel never indulges in its inherent campiness, and there’s nothing that gets you involved, or makes you want to be involved, in the action.
It’s worth noting that “Angels & Demons” and now “Inferno” remain Hanks’ only live-action sequels to date in his storied career, outside of the “Toy Story” franchise, of course. Beyond contractual obligation, perhaps, there’s no explanation evident as to why he, Howard and his team keep making these movies. They might have an audience I’m left unaware of. Perhaps they appeal to the hidden history buffs of the world as guilty pleasures. For my money, 2004’s “National Treasure” remains the only good Robert Langdon adaptation to date, if only in spirit. With that in mind, the jury’s still out on whether or not Langdon will return for another cinematic adventure, but if he does, perhaps it’s time to let “Inferno” mark the end of Hanks and Howard’s involvement, and let somebody else light a new spark with the franchise. [C]
