Babylon A.D.

In the near future, out in the chaotic nether regions of Eastern Europe, a lone-wolf mercenary named Toorop (Diesel) does his lone-wolf thing, bumming cigarettes from a kid, beating up a gun dealer who sold him a faulty weapon, entering his Spartan apartment, rustling up some dinner and dining alone ... with a glass of wine hinting at a touch of civility. Then, bam, a bunch of heavily armed men storm in and escort him to a waiting vehicle where a fat, slimy Russian mobster (Depardieu) makes him a can't-refuse offer: Toorop, branded a terrorist in the States, can have a fresh start back home if he safely delivers a package from Eastern Europe to New York in six days.

Of course, the package is bigger—and far more attractive—than a breadbox: It's a young woman named Aurora (Thierry), who's spent her entire life hidden away for her own safety in a convent and protected by Sister Rebeka (Yeoh). Toorop leads Aurora and Sister Rebeka on a treacherous trek that finds the trio crisscrossing the former Soviet Union, Alaska and Canada before finally arriving in the Big Apple. Along the way, while dodging bullets, bombings, fighter jets, cage fighters, missiles and whatever else is hurled at them, they form something of a bond, this despite Toorop's loner status and his frequent protestations that he always finishes the job but doesn't ever get involved.

Babylon A.D. arrives on the big-screen scene as both damaged and second-hand goods. Damaged? Rumors persist that Babylon A.D. has been chopped by as much as an hour. Even if those figures are exaggerated, it's a fact that the 93-minute U.S. release version is 10 minutes shorter than its European counterpart. Second-hand? It's really Children of Men in a different skin, substituting action for ideas, and cliches for stimulating dialogue.

Kassovitz wowed audiences and critics alike with his film La Haine, but his U.S. debut, Gothika was a scattered, albeit stylish mess. Babylon A.D. is no less stylish, but even more of a mess. For the Diesel haters out there, he's the least of the film's myriad problems. He exudes a certain cocky charm, connects nicely with both Yeoh and Thierry, and you just know that it's him handling the bulk of his own stunts. The problem is just about everything else. The plot for Babylon A.D. makes no sense. Aurora must reach New York in six days? Why? More than a few people want her dead and one in particular, a high priestess (Rampling) whose face peers out from ubiquitous digital billboards, wants Aurora alive apparently so that her sect can achieve broader acceptance. Or something like that. Aurora knows things she's never experienced, like how to operate a submarine. She can sense things, too. In one of Babylon A.D.'s most memorable howlers she utters this doozy to Toorop and Sister Rebeka: "We're all going to die in New York ... good night." All of which makes one wonder how? Why? And to what end? Oh, and she may be carrying a virus—or is it a baby? Or both?—that could alter the course of human history.

In fairness, Babylon A.D. nails the look of its dystopian future, offers a few solid bits of action and, at the aforementioned 93-minute running time, it's far from boring. A snowmobile chase is exciting, though it's ultimately laughable that Toorop downs two fighter jets with a handgun and a snowmobile. The entire submarine sequence, from the hundreds of locals gathering on the ice, waiting for it to arrive, to watching it crack through the ice, to them frantically racing to board the sub before it submerges, is a keeper, too. And there's an ace car/SUV chase sequence at the very end, yet it's oddly old-school for so pivotal a moment, unless Kassovitz hoped to make a statement by staging it that way

Babylon A.D. isn't the worst movie ever made, just incomprehensible and silly, and it's so crammed with product placements for a certain brand of cola that they should have called it Babylon AD.

—Ian