The only thing Hitman succeeds in doing is confirming what common sense could tell you without spending millions of dollars on a special-effects-filled movie: A series of novels is much richer source material than a series of video games.
In the finest tradition of adolescent identification figures, he's not only ruthless, dispatching numerous baddies with hair-trigger shots to the head, but profoundly desexualized.
A Eurotrashy vidgame knockoff that misses its target by a mile. Numbingly unthrilling as it lurches from one violent encounter to another, the pic's dark roots in an electronic, non-dramatic medium are plain to see.
The formula is not that far removed from James Bond except there's a hole at its center. Agent 47, played by a virtually expressionless Timothy Olyphant, is a soulless, emotionally dead protagonist.
Olyphant faz o possivel com um personagem unidimensional por natureza, mas o roteiro absurdo e a direcao fragil de Gens, que parece acreditar que cortes rapidos substituem arcos narrativos, conferem ao filme um ar de producao feita para DVD.