Déjà Vu

It's a hard movie to hate, just one that's far too easy to forget.

Take away a couple of neatly staged action sequences and you're left with a callously measured slab of US jingoism that deals with the most horrific human tragedies in the most lunk-headed and insulting way possible.

It's Denzel himself, ambling through the nonsense with just the right degree of twinkling insouciance, who keeps you watching. Good fun.

I felt cheated.

Nobody does vapid bollocks as enjoyably as Tony Scott, and while this isn't as inventive as Man On Fire or as compelling as Crimson Tide, it's still the right side of dumb.

If one can get past the dubious technical details of the setup, the competent acting should take care of the rest of the entertainment.

Sounds a bit dodgy, huh? Not when an in-form Denzel Washington is involved. He's the glue that keeps this absurdly compelling thriller together as it mashes up the present and the past to intoxicating effect.

Although a certain amount of disbelief suspension is a necessity, the script tries exceptionally hard, and succeeds, in building a credible case.

An entertaining, by-the-numbers thriller that manages to take all its recognizable parts and create a semi-original piece of work.