The Cinema of the Four

In The Name Of The King: A Dungeon Siege Tale

It was a chilly January’s morning when I once again found myself rolling toward the cineplex to undertake my latest movie investigation. After recently failing to find a solution to the matter of “National Treasure: Book of Secrets,” my spirits were less than buoyant about my career as an amateur movie consulting detective. But then the name “Uwe Boll” came to me through my usual channels, and my spirits rose.

The official force would be staying as far away from a Uwe Boll adventure as possible. Here was my chance to once again prove the usefulness of the unofficial agency!

By it’s extraordinarily long title along, “In The Name Of The King: A Dungeon Siege Tale” should tell you that there’s a video game involved in the movie’s existence somewhere. As I care nothing for such matters, my focus was drawn immediately to the cast of favorite, yet under-employed actors: names like Leelee Sobieski (who began as a poor man’s teenage Helen Hunt), John Rhys-Davies (if “Raiders” or “Sliders” or “Lord of the Rings” aren’t in your lexicon, for shame), Ron Perlman (“Beauty and the Beast” on television for starters), Kristanna Loden (the original Bloodrayne and Sci-Fi Channel’s Painkiller Jane), Matthew Lillard (goofy sidekick guy extraordinaire), Ray Liotta (Ray Liotta . . . need I say more) and Burt Reynolds (if you don’t know who he is, leave now because the school bus is probably outside waiting to pick you up). Now there was a gang to attract the notice of any consulting movie detective.

Jason Statham, the greatest name in “A-“ or “B+” action movies of the modern era, leads this cast as a fighting farmer named “Farmer.” And he must fight a lot, as an army of animal-men (think orcs) have killed his son and in-laws and kidnapped his wife. There’s royal intrigue, the sudden appearance of the king’s royal ninjas, and Cirque Du Soleil wood nymphs/female Merry Men who lower themselves out of trees on vines just to pose. It may look like “Lord of the Rings” on occasion, but this is a creation done specifically for the enjoyment of that creature called “the fanboy,” whom director Uwe Boll can reach as cunningly as Ray Liotta’s evil wizard does his beast-men in this film.

It is what it is, my friends. Go only if you’ve pre-decided this is your idea of a good time . . . then you may be in luck.

What Great-grandfather Sherlock would have said:
“You must bear in mind that the royal party made head in England even after the death of the king, and that when they at last fled they probably left many of their most precious possessions buried behind them.”