The fin de siècle in Paris was a terrible place to be. Infested with tourist-crazed mummies, dog-catching pterodactyls and brain-damaged police-men (but then again it wouldn't be a Luc Besson movie without the latter?) it doesn't seem like a nice place to spend your summer. And unfortunately it isn't. Even if you have Lara Croft's predecessor Adele Blanc-Sec as the swashbuckling, thigh swinging tour guide. In a collage of nonsense, bad taste and poor pacing time swirls by without a giggle, but with a decent dosage of snores.
Over-the-top and absurd, but not in the idiotically brilliant Monty Python fashion, it feels like an unwanted marriage between French slapstick and American teen comedies. The characters fly by without any build-up dashing from prank scene to prank scene and not even the best animated attempts at reviving mummies change the fact, that their humour is drier than their skin.
Honestly not a single element of this movie held any sway whatsoever on my attention, so in an attempt to save readers from an entourage of abuse towards Besson's newest artistic flop, I'll keep it simple: Don't bother. Even if you have a large needle protruding through your brain.
Over-the-top and absurd, but not in the idiotically brilliant Monty Python fashion, it feels like an unwanted marriage between French slapstick and American teen comedies. The characters fly by without any build-up dashing from prank scene to prank scene and not even the best animated attempts at reviving mummies change the fact, that their humour is drier than their skin.
Honestly not a single element of this movie held any sway whatsoever on my attention, so in an attempt to save readers from an entourage of abuse towards Besson's newest artistic flop, I'll keep it simple: Don't bother. Even if you have a large needle protruding through your brain.