Not that we needed it, and pardon the trace elements of contempt regarding the familiarity of this particular narrative hook, but: Yet another serial killer movie hits theaters this week.
In "Alex Cross,"
Perry's going to surprise some people. This was his chance to prove he could hold a film together in a relatively conventional action-hero leading role, and the imposingly scaled actor with the soothing voice and rolling gait does the job.
But what is the job, exactly? Same ol', same ol'. Catch the methodical, sadistic antagonist before he kills again, but not too early in the story. Or else there's no story. The story requires its mutilated corpses (snipped-off fingers here, charred skin there, some of which pushes the
The wrinkle here, beyond the casting of Perry, is in screenwriters Marc Moss and Kerry Williamson pushing Patterson's source novel "Cross" (mostly tossed out) into an origin story as well as a straight-up revenge melodrama. I don't remember Morgan Freeman sidelining the character's stoic, deductive reason in favor of sawed-off shotguns and bloodthirsty vigilante justice. "Alex Cross" begins with wisecracking banter between our hero and his best friend and fellow cop (
The murderer known as Picasso, given cliched feral intensity by
The psycho leaves Cubist-style charcoal drawings at the scenes of his crimes, and appears to have his ultimate sights set on what the film's production notes describe as "a Detroit-based multi-national industrialist" played by
Now and then director