The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon and The Fox and the Child

4:20pm Wednesday 6th August 2008

Stephen Sommers, writer-director of The Mummy and The Mummy Returns, and leading lady Rachel Weisz sensibly bailed on the dull third chapter of the globetrotting adventure series. The rest of the cast returns for replacement helmsman Rob Cohen, plus a new faces including martial arts superstar Jet Li, as the flimsy storyline gallops from the catacombs of China to the snow-laden peaks of the Himalayas.

The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor may be full of Eastern promises, but it doesn't deliver on any of them. Action set pieces lack their usual jolt of adrenaline-pumping excitement, banter between the characters is sluggish and leading man Fraser's familiar line in self-deprecating humour deserts him and the pedestrian script.

Opening in 200 BC, the film spews a brief history of the rise of the Dragon Emperor (Li) and the construction of the Great Wall of China, and his defeat at the hands of a wily sorceress (Michelle Yeoh), who curses the 10,000-strong army to spend the rest of time as terracotta statues. Fast-forwarding to 1946, archaeologist Alex O'Connell (Luke Ford) uncovers the Emperor in his burial chamber, thereby unleashing the ruler and his minions on an unsuspecting world.

With the fate of mankind hanging in the balance, Alex turns to the only people who can stop the Emperor: gung-ho explorer father Rick (Fraser), equally feisty mother Evelyn (Maria Bello) and accident-prone uncle Jonathan (John Hannah). Beautiful tomb guardian Lin (Isabella Leong) aids Alex but the young man is poorly equipped to lead such a perilous mission, setting up the inevitable clash between father and son.

"We're going to do this my way. I've put down more mummies in my time than you," barks Rick.

"You put down one mummy, dad," replies Alex.

"Yeah, same mummy. Twice!" stresses his old man.

The film borrows heavily from Raiders of the Lost Ark for the descent into the Emperor's booby-trap laden tomb, then lazily mimics Lord of the Rings for a final battle between the Emperor's men and an army of resurrected skeleton warriors. Bello concentrates so hard on affecting a wavering English accent that she has no energy to deliver a credible performance or to generate screen chemistry with Fraser. Hannah's bumbling comedy sidekick is completely surplus to requirements.

His most memorable scene is a flirtation with the projectile-vomiting bovine; a bizarre interlude, even by the standards of The Mummy films, clumsily orchestrated to feed Jonathan the groan-worthy line: "The yak yakked". Li is wasted, forced to spend the majority of the film caked in computer-generated clay. Humour tends to be puns or euphemisms, as when Jonathan dissuades Alex from pursuing one of Shanghai's hussies by whispering: "In archaeological terms, that is a tomb in which many pharaohs have lain".

The same criticism could be leveled at Alfred Gough and Miles Millar's plodding and predictable script.

Luc Jacquet, director of the Oscar-winning March of the Penguins, heads for sunnier climes in the family feature The Fox and the Child. Inspired by the filmmaker's bucolic childhood in the mountains of Ain, the film is a visually stunning valentine to changing seasons in a woodland community and the delicate balance between man and nature.

The production spent six months in the Retord plateau and Abruzzes National Park in Italy, capturing footage of wild foxes in their natural habitat. Omnipresent voiceover provides a direct link between the stunning imagery and young actress Bertille Noel-Bruneau as the pint-sized villager who learns to her cost that some creatures can never be tamed.

"My story started one day on the way to school. I remember it well. I was ten years old," begins narrator Kate Winslet, relating the inner thoughts of a little girl. The freckled, red-haired tyke merrily traipses along her usual route, surrounded by the colours of autumn, until a bend in the path where she spies a fox. Enchanted by the majestic creature, the girl arrogantly decides to impose herself on this wilderness.

"I decided I would tame the fox... I had no idea it was the beginning as great adventure," she confides excitedly.

The girl spends long hours shadowing the fox, until a broken limb forces her to spend much of the winter at home, recuperating with a cast.

Meanwhile, the object of her obsession frolics in the snow.

"I was free again after two months indoors," trills Winslet as the girl dashes into the springtime undergrowth in search of the fox, witnessing gorgeous scenes of everyday animal life involving playful badgers, otters, woodpeckers, frogs and even a bear.

Eventually, the meddlesome urchin gets her wish and she attempts to domesticate the fox, with truly horrific and bloody consequences that will probably upset very young viewers and most parents too.

"I confused possession with love," concludes Winslet ruefully.

The Fox and the Child is blessed with gorgeous cinematography and a haunting orchestral score but the flimsy storyline struggles to hold our interest for 94 minutes.

Scenes of the girl pursuing her vulpine prey become a little repetitive, severely testing the patience of small children in the audience.

Some of the voiceover could be excised entirely ("You knew it would rain. How did you know that?"), allowing viewers to draw their own conclusions without being force-fed every emotion.