This review first appeared in The Colorado Springs Gazette. To read this review at its original source, click here.

Origins stories are supposed to be of such momentous mythological dynamism that they explain everything that radiates from them — characters’ histories, personalities and even guiding motivations. They are our roadmap to everything that comes after. Our decoder rings. Our Genesis. X-Men Origins: Wolverine has no such density at its core, no gravity, nothing to explain why we should care one whit about this man and his problems.

In this spin-off to the wildly uneven X-Men trilogy, Wolverine (Hugh Jackman), the superhero with a metallic endoskeleton and retractable steel claws, is revealed as one half of a troubled pair of mutant brothers. Though inseparable as children, the immortal brothers spend hundreds of years fighting in one war to the next. We get the impression that Logan, the younger of the two, does not lust for carnage as his elder brother does, but refuses to leave his sibling’s side. But all that spilt blood does something to Victor (Liev Schreiber), and we watch, via an impressive title sequence, as his soul becomes something rotted and twisted.

Rotted and twisted souls are the Machiavellian Col. William Stryker’s (Danny Huston playing a younger version of Brian Cox’s character in X2) specialty. The head of the ominous Weapon X program, Stryker employees select mutants to hunt down other mutants and imprison them. When Logan/Wolverine dares to defy him, he finds himself pitted against his increasingly sadistic brother, now calling himself Sabretooth.

X-Men Origins: Wolverine could have — should have — been an epic comic book adaptation. Goodness knows the raw materials were there. Instead, the film feels rushed and careless, a product of half-hearted interest that plays like a big screen version of the television show Heroes; all we’re missing is the cheerleader. It takes what is one of Marvel’s most complex and violent characters and filters it through the quintessential Hollywood machine, coming out on the other side a slick, warmly lit fluff piece, neither significantly explaining nor satisfyingly investigating the very purpose for its having been made in the first place. Worse yet, it has the audacity to leave itself open-ended and unresolved, a blatant marketing strategy sure to pay off when the sequel is green lit.

Gavin Hood, the South African director of the very impressive Tsotsi, has a decent eye for action but trades it all in for gratuitous eye candy. Not since the most recent Star Wars films has a movie been almost entirely constructed of not-especially-impressive computer generated imagery. The whole production is a digital cartoon from the largest action set pieces to the most ridiculously easy throwaway moments.

Humanizing our tortured hero requires useless plot filler and even more useless characters. There are inexplicable sequences, patched together for their visual flare with no thought whatsoever to reason or logic. In one scene, midway through, a character, apparently oblivious to what’s going on right in front of him, breaks up a fight for no apparent reason, even though one of his sworn enemies is about to be vanquished.

So unoriginal and underwhelming as to be totally forgettable, the deeply dissatisfying and unnecessarily silly X-Men Origins: Wolverine is one “in the beginning” that you just wish would mutate into “the end.”

© Copyright 2009 Brandon Fibbs. All rights reserved.