X-Men: The Last Stand review

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Neither the exhilarating franchise sign-off that Bryan Singer would have likely delivered, nor the deformed mess that banshee-like ’net boys have been wailing was the only feasible outcome after Fox handed the reins to “comic-book Anti-Christ” (his words) Brett Ratner. X Men: The Last Stand is merely that all-too-common modern film phenomenon – the plodding blockbuster, or plod-buster, which spikes out of its three-star flatline during some solid bang-wallop set-pieces and an emotionally wrenching face-off, which goes down as the series’ spine-tingling highlight.

A perfunctory prologue reveals all our favourites back in the X-fold. Wolverine’s still puffing on cigars; Storm’s still moving clouds, but has developed a new spinning-through-air trick; Professor X and Magneto get creepy digital facelifts for a plot-laying flashback and – oh look – Jean Grey didn’t die in a watery grave. (She’s back with redder hair, an itchy temper and terrifying telepathic omnipotence.) A few new faces are clawing for mutant show-off time, too, including Kelsey Grammer’s Beast (blue, furry, reads upside-down), Vinnie Jones’ Juggernaut (huge, padded, relishes crap one-liners) and Ben Foster’s Angel (winged, self-loathing, pretty much surplus to requirements).

Lacking the X-factor that made X2 a crowd-pleaser, X3 still packs in enough story, emotion and ballistics to please most fans of the franchise.

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