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The Prince movie review: You keep hoping therein may lie a tale
Clearly, you need to find something for John Cusack to do in this mess of a film apart from look groggy eyed?

WHY would you sit an 18-something girl, who has just lapdanced on her friend’s father’s only partially reluctant crotch, who is clearly high if not downright drunk and who has just been shot at by determined goons, down and tell her something about Roman kings and Scotland? Clearly, you need to find something for John Cusack to do in this mess of a film apart from look groggy eyed, but really who believes that all those trigger-happy ganglords out in New Orleans were thinking Romans and Scotland when they gave Jason Patric’s Paul the title ‘The Prince’?
Particularly when, as portrayed by Patric, Paul is one of the most uncharismatic bad asses to walk these Hollywood streets (just recently by Liam Neeson, Taken). Paul has come out of hiding because his college-going daughter Beth has suddenly gone missing, among men who want his blood for a job he did 20 years ago.
Not surprisingly, Paul’s first stop is a friend of Beth, Angela, who may know where she could be. Surprisingly though, Angela hangs around, and around, even as Paul heads into territory where little girls don’t belong. Unless the whole idea is to throw in unsettling scenes of Angela cavorting with a pole and coming on to Paul. Nothing comes of it eventually, which doesn’t leave you feeling any good about either Angela or Paul.
Bruce Willis is Omar, the kind of ganglord who gives long speeches about “one’s name counting for a lot in this business” before shooting people down into own swimming pool. Come to think of it, why would anyone do that? He bears a special grudge towards ‘The Prince’, and the whole plot is designed to propel them towards each other.
That includes Omar’s determined sidekick Mark, played to full-on martial-art cliches by Korean pop singer Rain (as Jung Ji-Hoon). Mark’s doe eyes are almost eyeliner-adorned, and as he hangs around Willis’s weather-worn Omar, you keep hoping therein may lie a tale. That we may have been looking at the wrong ‘Prince’. Fat chance.


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