The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc

This latest from Fifth Element director Luc Besson once again finds Milla Jovovich intent on saving the world -- or France, anyway. What she can't rescue, however, is this ill-conceived epic. As the 15th-century butt kicker who led the French army to victory at Orléans, only to be later burned at the stake, the armor-clad Jovovich does little more than scream at the troops, her aquamarine eyes bulging as she waves her sword around . . . and around . . . and around.

The rest of the turgid two hours alternates between limb-lopping bloodbaths and regal subterfuge involving a twitchy John Malkovich and a headwear-bedecked Faye Dunaway. The film is a mush of distracting inaccuracies and anachronisms: the French speak unaccented English, the Brits are all cockneys, and when the intrepid Joan starts talking about voices in her head, one of her compatriots chuckles, "She's nuts!" And then, just as it seems the virgin warrior will never take to the stake, Dustin Hoffman shuffles forth as the personification of her conscience. Enduring this movie: now that's martyrdom.

-- Gerald Peary