Clash of the Titans Reviews
The 3-D technology tacked onto Clash of the Titans is like the coins put on the eyes of the dead for Charon, the Stygian ferryman. It's bribery to accept a lifeless lump.
It's not as if "Clash of the Titans" is some popcorn masterpiece undone by the 3-D manipulations of its parent studio; the clunky script and blockbuster-in-a-box cluttered construction of it are probably just as lifeless in two dimensions.
I don't say it's good cinema, although I recognize the craftsmanship that went into it. I don't say it's good acting, when the men have so much facial hair they all look like Liam Neeson. I like the energy, the imagination, the silliness.
At the moment when Sam Worthington, trapped inside a giant scorpion, sword-hacked his way through the dorsal carapace and poked the upper half of his body through the opening as if it were a sunroof, I fell in love with Clash of the Titans.
So tone deaf to the material is Leterrier that the spirit of the remake owes more to Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen than a sword-and-sandal film. Bigger, louder, more expensive? All that, for sure. But better? Not by a long shot.