Elektra
Watching Jennifer Garner produces a strange cognitive dissonance: Why would such a nice girl want to put her boot in your throat? On "Alias" she plays a spy. In "Elektra," which opens today, she plays an assassin. And the only difference between Garner's new movie and her four-year-old television show is that the movie is boring. In it, she does all the stuff you can see her do on Wednesday nights -- namely, some of her own stunt work in outrageous costumes -- but without an ounce of zeal, charisma, or purpose.
As she sashays, mirthlessly, from one thankless confrontation to the next, it's unclear why anyone would find Garner any more deserving of stardom than certain mannequins. And the vehicle she's chosen for herself is like an Atkins edition of "Charlie's Angels" -- entirely sugar-free.
"Elektra" has risen from the ashes of 2003's "Daredevil," which aroused similar feelings of "whatever." Though that movie at least had the rambunctious Colin Farrell in it, this spinoff is even more vestigial and curiously superfluous, like a third nipple, sixth finger, or another Hilton sister: Who asked for this?
In "Daredevil," Garner's Elektra Natchios lost her father and fell for the blind superhero played by Ben Affleck. She died in that movie, but for the spinoff she's been reborn (rather inexplicably, I might add) with the help of Terence Stamp. He plays Stick, her guru in matters of physical and spiritual wellness. After teaching her martial artistry, he ends up expelling her from his academy, where she was the most violent student and the only non-Asian boy, for not knowing "the Way." Based on Garner's humorlessness, lack of vocal inflection, and generally bland disposition, "the Way" she has yet to grasp seems to be that of acting.
Not that the film's plot leaves room for much of that. After being kicked out by Stick, Elektra becomes a hired killer fond of fighting in a silly-looking silken costume. Her latest assignment from her agent, McCabe (Colin Cunningham), is to schlep out to an idyllic lakefront cabin and bump off a sexy single dad, played by the "ER" actor Goran Visnjic, and his nosy tweener daughter (Kirsten Prout). But for reasons that remain unexpressed, Elektra can't quite bring herself to complete the job.
Because the movie has to have something to do during its final hour, another group of assassins shows up and -- sigh -- Elektra has to stop them. This leads to a kooky revelation about the family that reminded me of that old Eddie Murphy jalopy "The Golden Child." (And while we're back in time: Elektra and Stick's scenes together were better as part of "The Next Karate Kid.")
The script for "Elektra" is attributed to three writers. Presumably, each new scribe came along and deleted the work of his predecessor, until all that remained was this raggedy story. Rob Bowman, the director, has a long television career that includes a definitive stretch helming a slew of "X-Files" episodes. He never finds his footing here. There's almost nothing graceful or visually witty, and the fight sequences feel cribbed from far superior films. Worse, he seems to have encouraged his star to pour herself into the physical rigors but none of the human ones. All the emoting is saved for the overblown flashbacks, in which we're shown Elektra's dead mother and the devilish creature that may have killed her.
"Elektra" has the misfortune of following other movies about women who know how to leave a nasty bruise, everything from the incomparable (Ziyi Zhang in "Hero" and "The House of Flying Daggers" and Uma Thurman in "Kill Bill") to the incompetent (Halle Berry in "Catwoman" and Milla Jovovich in "Resident Evil"). In theory, Garner should be in the same company as Thurman and especially Zhang, who truly makes innocence look fatal. But Garner exists purely as a physical specimen in peak condition. Yes, that's her doing one-armed pullups and rope jumping her keister off. But Garner sprints through her lines, too, swallowing the last words in a sentence or steamrolling over ones in the middle.
Her physical comedy in last year's "13 Going on 30" had its charms. She at least seemed to have an inner vitality that she was eager to share. That movie was the only recent one of hers where she didn't seem like American Girl's wholesome gun-toting doll. We get that Garner can snap our necks, but she seems more programmed to do so (by men, most likely) than driven by fury, pain, lust, or joy. In "Elektra," in particular, she's like the Stepford assassin, the girl next door with nobody home.
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