THE HITMAN NOW AVAILABLE

HITMAN NOW AVAILABLE ONLINE

HERE IS THE SUMMARY FOR THE MOVIE HITMAN FROM IMDB

A gun-for-hire known only as Agent 47 (Olyphant) is ensnared in a political conspiracy, which finds him pursued by both Interpol and the Russian military as he treks across Eastern Europe. hired by a group known as "The Agency" to kill targets for cash.

HERE IS A REVIEW FOR THE MOVIE HITMAN FROM DVDTALK

Movies adapted from video games have always been a strange phenomenon. Taking something inherently cinematic and turning it into something...er, cinematic has resulted in a line of box office corpses. "Hitman" is the latest casualty; an overcooked time killer that finds bad acting, bad direction, bad cinematography, and bad screenwriting in a furious race to dominate the running time. I'd call it a four-way tie.

Living a life of murder clad in posh business wear, Agent 47 (Timothy Olyphant) is a contract killer with an enigmatic past, genetically bred to assassinate anyone as long as the price is right. Positioned as the patsy in a scheme to execute a Russian leader, 47 dashes around Europe to clear his name, taking a prostitute (model Olga Kurylenko) with him for answers, only to find himself consumed with protecting her. As the two plunge deeper into the conspiracy, an Interpol agent (Dougray Scott) is hot on their tail, rabid to stop 47 and expose his identity.

The appeal of the "Hitman" video games was the ability to play up John Woo theatrics and enjoy a healthy portion of Luc Besson anti-hero glorification. So, in turning "Hitman" into a movie, the production has created a film frighteningly derivative of the fruit of past action pioneers. It hopes the lure of its console origin will sucker the faithful into coughing up hard-earned cash to watch what normally passes for direct-to-video content, only without Steven Seagal or Wesley Snipes in the lead role.

As a movie, "Hitman" is a jumble of poorly executed ideas all fighting for screentime. Director Xavier Gens doesn't have the faintest clue how to rein everything in and mold a story out of this mess, so he allows the picture to run wild with generic action and political mumbo-jumbo. It's an overblown highlight reel of directorial exhaustion, topping itself with bullet cinema cliché after cliché.

The finest example of buffoonery being a shootout in one of those dingy Euro hideouts (you know, the ones with hookers and "Clockwork Orange" references laying about) where 47 detonates a bomb on a table of money, soon engaging in a slo-mo gunfight while cash rains from the sky Jay-Z style and bodies are soon pocked with juicy bullet wounds. In short: Gens has nothing innovative to offer the big screen; he's just another style-conscious boob with a budget.

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