The basic premise is interesting and the director's track record promising, which together led me to ignore the negative criticism and waste a rental credit on this fat, diseased turkey. I may not be fully qualified to review this movie as I hated it so much I skipped the last half hour.
You'll be aware that the hero (Annakin Skywalker or whatever he calls himself these days), a lovestruck high school geek, finds himself able to teleport. As any teenage boy might, if he lives in an Oakley commercial, he uses this gift to get wealthy, get laid and get some surf. We are treated to images of Annakin picniccing on the Sphinx's head and clinging to Big Ben to try and persuade us that he is a charismatic, globe-skipping avatar of mind-bending power.
In a vain bid to turn this fantastic good fortune into a plot, Samuel L Jackson paints his hair white, produces an NSA ID card and chases Annakin around the world with an electric cane (really), interrupting Annakin's laying and surfing. Matters are further complicated by Annakin's pretty and pointless love interest and Jamie Bell's very confused accent, still in the air somewhere between Darlington and Burbank, but still leaving us in no doubt that dancing isn't just for poofs, divvent yer kna.
Each and every principal is bereft of charisma; perhaps Annakin, who mistakes pouting, sulking and glaring for acting, so lacks charisma that he drains everyone else's. Maybe they were all just mortified by the screenplay, which must have been written by a chimpanzee; not even a talented one, probably one of those 'scab' chimpanzees who worked through the screenwriter's strike. In short, give this a miss. If you want a taste of the sassy, well written, roaming action this director can deliver, revisit 'Go' or 'The Bourne Identify'.