The latest Hollywood movie to give comic books a bad name, Elektra stars Jennifer Garner as a superheroine who dons fetish-wear the color of blood before laying waste to every man in sight.
[Garner] 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.
Elektra is stripped of the unrepentant ferocity that made her a crossover hit in the first place. Here, she quickly succumbs to her gooey, maternal side -- which means if ever there's a sequel, she'll have no edge.
This doesn't exactly set the world on fire, but I was charmed by its old-fashioned storytelling, which is refreshingly free of archness, self-consciousness, or Kill Bill-style wisecracks.
Garner's one-note performance isn't the only thing crippling this undercooked comic-book adventure. There's a patchy script that bumps along in fits and starts, but never comes to life.
Resembles nothing so much as a dumbed-down, PG-13 version of Kill Bill, put together by a team tone-deaf to bad dialogue, atrocious acting, cheesy special effects and clumsily staged action sequences.
The constant talk and tease of Elektra is sure to cause even more male frustration than Catwoman and Tomb Raider, where the femmes were similarly dolled up and then sexed down to appease the nanny censors.
That she is in fact a hired assassin on a $2-million contract killing is charmingly offset by the fact that she wears no makeup and ties her (albeit ridiculously) long brown hair back in a ponytail.