“No pulse? No problem,” reads Dylan Dog’s (Brandon Routh) business card in Dylan Dog: Dead of Night. That refers to his supernatural clients. Unfortunately, it turns out be a pretty good description of the movie, where it is very much a problem. It’s not so much that Dylan Dog is bad — certainly nowhere near as bad as is being claimed — it’s that it’s so completely inconsequential that it’s rarely more than just there. For the record, it’s all about the down-at-the-heels gumshoe of the title, who used to work as a kind of mediator among the rival supernatural factions (vampires, werewolves, zombies) who reside in New Orleans. He was there in case one of their number did something extroverted, like killing a human, that might draw the attention of the “breathers” (live folks). But he gave it up to eke out a living as a P.I. for live people. Circumstances, manipulation, and clever scripting will conspire to put him back among the supernatural. After all, otherwise there’d be no movie. There’s nothing really wrong with the plot about getting ahold of an artifact with incredible powers, except that it’s nothing more than serviceable and not very interesting. The whole hook lies in the movie’s world-weary private eye and his ersatz-Raymond Chandler narration. And there’s the real problem: 31-year-old Brandon Routh hasn’t got any world-weary vibe. It’s not all Routh’s fault, and in his favor, he’s constantly likable and has good chemistry with Sam Huntington (Jimmy Olsen from Routh’s Superman Returns), Dylan’s zombified sidekick. Their scenes occasionally boost the movie. But they can’t get past Kevin Munroe’s direction, the dodgy CGI, or the world’s lamest omnipotent being.
Official Site: www.dylandogdeadofnight.com
Director: Kevin Munroe
Writer: Thomas Dean Donnelly and Joshua Oppenheimer
Cast: Brandon Routh, Sam Huntington, Anita Briem, Peter Stormare, Taye Diggs, Brian Steele, Kurt Angle, Marco St. John, Courtney Shay Young and Gabrielle Chapin
Sorry there are no upcoming showtimes for Dylan Dog: Dead of Night