The End Of My First Date With COLOMBIANA

COLOMBIANA, I've been watching you for two hours now, and let's get real: who the hell do you think you are?

Let me back up for a second. I don't think you're a terrible movie, over all. You've got a sort of charming, old-school approach to action scenes, with a few notable set pieces worth seeing, and you've got a bona-fide hottie in Zoe Saldana prancing around all over the place, which makes you at least watchable for long sections where nothing appears to be happening.

But you don't end your movie with Johnny Cash's cover of "Hurt". You don't deserve it.

Now, to be honest, I don't know if any movie deserves to end with that song. It's a masterpiece, maybe the best cover of all time (music nerds can feel free to mock this uninformed statement, ideally with links). But coming after two hours of weak character scenes and half-baked Biggest Brother paranoid surveillance fantasies, ending with this song is like biting into a chocolate only to find it filled with liqueur. Or orange filling. Or that weird spongy toffee-that-isn't-toffee. You get the idea.

This sudden reversal of what I was expecting doesn't only leave me with a bad taste in my mouth; it makes me want to throw the whole thing out. I'm seeing you from a whole different perspective, like finding out you dated one of my old high school friends. You lured me in (and scored cheap points) with your overtly Tony Scott-influenced cinematography and Luc Besson's name, but you only aspire to those things. This movie is like a copy of a copy of a copy, with only the faintest lines of the original showing up: you're mostly negative space.

Also, your editing is some of the worst I've seen in a major motion picture for quite some time.

I think we're through. I guess I'll cover the bill.