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A high-concept caper with a paranormal hook, Next should be a doozy. Sadly, Lee Tamahori’s film never makes good on its slick premise (Vegas clairvoyant who really can see the future), defaulting instead to a generic ticking clocker that plays like 24 crossed with Minority Report.
Given the source material (Philip K Dick story The Golden Man), it’s hard to avoid the latter comparison. But where Spielberg used pre-cognition as a device to explore the morality of proactive law enforcement, Tamahori fixates exclusively on the wish-fulfilment aspects of Nicolas Cage’s ability to know what’s coming two minutes in advance. The tactic works a treat when his third-rate mentalist is using his gift to bilk the house or woo toothsome teacher Jessica Biel. Once Julianne Moore’s ball-busting Fed dragoons him into locating a missing nuke though, the fun factor goes bye-bye, Cage morphing into a bullet-dodging Superman with the reality-bending powers of Neo.
Cage has yet another bad hair day in a Dick-based actioner that repeatedly breaks its own rules. Biel's merely window dressing, while Moore struggles to earn her second billing in a humourless role that's Clarice Starling in all but name.
