Last night I attended another movie with my friend Brian, and let me assure you that you do not, under any circumstances, want to see The Four Feathers. No, really. You don’t. We got in for free and still wanted our money back.
The first line of dialogue you hear is actually “old chap.” Then there was the guy from American Beauty with a bad mustache and even worse accent, lots of shifty editing, and the horrible Kate Hudson. She looks vaguely fetal alcohol, and not even remotely British. Walking into the theater, I would not have believed you had you told me that in two and a half hours’ time I’d think Heath Ledger was the best thing about the movie, but he actually was. I mean, it still sucked, but he was okay. His voice is kind of hot. Maybe “best” is a bit much—he was the least bad thing.
My rating: worse than Swimfan, a tie with My Big Fat Greek Wedding. On the way home, Brian said he would rather watch My Big Fat Greek Wedding again instead of The Four Feathers, but I think I’d go with The Four Feathers a second time around, just because it would be easier to sleep through.
So, in summation: I’d see it again only if I could keep my eyes closed the whole time.