The Hunted

A better title for this movie would be “Slaughterhouse”. People are being mowed down, gutted, dressed out, and carved up in CinemaScope and Technicolor and probably computer enhancement. Red is the color of the day and lots of it.

I kept waiting for a story. I kept waiting to find out what this movie was about. Well, it’s about killing. That’s it. This movie should have been X-rated for pure, unadulterated violence with absolutely NO redeeming qualities. I was disappointed because this was Tommy Lee Jones. And I love Tommy Lee Jones. Usually.

L. T. Bonham (Tommy Lee Jones) is a man who has taught other men, U.S. special forces units, how to kill. One such man, Aaron Hallam (Benicio del Toro), goes off the deep end after witnessing and participating in a gory special assignment in Kosovo. (Much like the viewers of this movie will do after they realize they’ve wasted too much time and money). He begins to hunt and kill hunters and poachers in the Pacific Northwest, and graduates to carving up police and FBI when finally taken to task for it. His old mentor, L.T., seems to be the only man who can sniff out his tracks and do the dance of death with him without winding up roped down and glassy-eyed on the hood of a pickup.

The culmination of macho derring-do (I had to stifle a laugh here), is when the two men are leaping and sparring all through a metropolitan area, yet neither one thinks to grab something sharp (a real knife, maybe?) with which to carve up the other when they make eye contact out in the wilderness. Oh, no. That would be too simple. They have to make their sharply serrated weapons out of stone and iron, all within such a limited time span they would have to be Superman in his revved up mode to possibly get it done.

There’s not much more to say except this movie should have expired on the cutting room floor. There would have been much less blood and gore.

Warning:  Anyone who would allow a child or teenager to see this movie should have his head examined. I paid money to see it and I still ache for the loss of it.



Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s