That's not sulfur you're smelling ...

Rating: 3/10 (20 February 2005)

Demons, according to "Constantine," reek of sulfur. This film smells of something else -- something my father called "money" back in my southwest Kansas youth. Funny, though -- he only said it when we were driving past a feedlot. And when cattle eat, cattle ... well, you get the idea.
First and foremost, the odor emanating from "Constantine" evidences a diet of rotten theology. Turncoat angels, attempted suicide as an unforgivable sin, post-death salvation -- the screenwriters must have had a volume discount at Heresies "R" Us.
Although the idea of the Bible having extra chapters in Hell (would that be the King Flames Version?) does elicit a chuckle, it's definitely of the "at, not with" sort. Max Baker's Beeman -- a sort of religio-occultic Q dispensing demon-fighting gadgets to Keanu Reeves' metaphysical 007 -- is also good for an I-can't-believe-this eye roll.
That's not the only scavenged plot element.
Mysterious Artifact? Check.
Slick Evil Guy in a Suit? Check (rocker Gavin Rossdale, who looks great in the role but whose demise is the stuff of yet more incredulous laughter).
Keanu Reeves as deadpan Christ figure? Check.
Plugging my figurative nose doesn't help much. Even the visual elements, which stand as pretty much the only good things about "Constantine," feel secondhand. Think "Pitch Black." Think "Dreamscape."
It doesn't help, either, that the level of exposition is, as a rule, inversely proportionate to what is needed. Points which would seem critical get a line or two of dialogue -- and there's nary a hint of foreshadowing as to why one of the "good 'uns" might switch sides. (On the other hand, once Gabriel says "self-sacrifice" you just know what's in store for Our (anti)Hero. His initials are "J.C." Get it? Get it? Get it? Huh? Huh? Huh?)
I saw this with a friend, who was reviewing it for work. Hope he gets reimbursed for the tickets.