Sahara Lost in the Desert

Master explorer and National Underwater and Marine Agency veteran Dirk Pitt (Matthew McConaughey, Reign of Fire) isn’t afraid of adventure. In fact, you could almost go so far as to say he searches it out. Especially when it comes to the fable of lost ironclad Civil War battleship – nicknamed the “Ship of Death” – lost during the war and supposedly carrying a cache of gold coins minted by the Confederacy towards the end of the conflict. This myth is Dirk’s baby, his Lost Ark of the Covenant, if you will, and no mountain is too high or peril too harsh when it comes the former Navy SEAL trying to find answers towards this century-old riddle.

Now, in the desert wilds of West Africa, Dirk’s come across a clue leading him to believe he’s closer than ever to finding the ship’s final resting place. With the aid of best friend Al Giordino (Steve Zahn, Out of Sight) and World Health Organization scientist Dr. Eva Rojas (Penélope Cruz, Head in the Clouds), whom believes the battleship might be the cause of a burgeoning global tragedy, along with his boss Admiral Sandecker’s (William H. Macy, The Cooler) high-tech speedboat, the trio rush headlong into the heart of danger only to discover the peril is far greater than any of them could ever have imagined.

Part Indian Jones, part James Bond, Clive Cussler’s literary hero makes his way to the big screen in director Breck Eisner’s (Taken) Sahara. A lively, bouncy, sometimes zanily funny motion picture, it unfortunately finds itself relegated to only being an also-ran thanks to a hackneyed and idiotic conclusion (and one case of noticeably awful miscasting) that mars an otherwise pleasant two-plus hours of moderately entertaining adventure. Too bad, really, for without this messy climax I would have been rather pleased to recommend Sahara, but as-is all I can really do is politely shake my head and point a finger in the direction of something – anything – other than this.

Pity, because McConaughey is born to play Pitt. Whether his shirt is on or off (personally I prefer the later) the actor cuts a dashing figure. He’s the most rakish rogue to hit screens since Harrison Ford strapped on a bullwhip and put on a fedora, and I must say after seeing this I can’t imagine ever seeing the character again without him playing it. Always thinking, always calculating, there is a devil-may-care aura that surrounds Pitt, but McConaughey deftly lets the audience know this is all only a smokescreen, the expert tactician planning multiple moves upon moves like a globe-trotting Bobby Fischer.

The majority of the cast provides uniformly able support. Macy’s a delightfully salty sea captain, Delroy Lindo’s (The Core) a snidely sneaky CIA agent, Lambert Wilson (Catwoman) smoothly mysterious as a French developer with ties to a rogue West African dictator and Lennie James (24 Hour Party People) is hissably vicious as the villainous General Kazim. They’re great, getting the comic book matinee serial aspects of the piece down to the proverbial tee. I was most impressed with Zahn. Not because he dispenses with his usual dopey stoner-dude antics – he doesn’t – but more because he for once gets to use these antics in the creation of a character who’s not the dimwitted dolt he at first appears. In many ways, Al is Dirk’s equal, just as adept at thinking on his feet or firing an automatic machine gun with tactical precision as his best friend and compatriot is.

Sahara unleashes its best moment early on, a snazzy, funny and surprisingly suspenseful boat chase through a twisty West African river. Bullets fly, bodies leap from boat to boat, one-line zingers actually hit their mark and explosions shatter the wilderness’ calm. Sure it’s over-the-top, Eisner directing with all the willy-nilly eagerness of a schoolboy invading the girl’s locker room for the very first time, but it’s at least enjoyably so, and gosh darn it if much of the rest of the film doesn’t follow suit.

But it doesn’t last. Cussler’s book has been gutted, almost venomously, by a cadre of Hollywood hacks with nary a decent credit (although John C. Richards did co-write the brilliant Nurse Betty, so I guess I better cut him a little bit of slack) amongst them. It all culminates in one of the most insipidly dorky climaxes in recent memory. While the majority of the movie is very much tongue-in-cheek, that still doesn’t mean I’m going to accept a climax more suited to a Looney Tunes short than an action-packed matinee crowd-pleaser. Not since National Treasure has a movie ended with such a bizarrely inept thud, and much like that one it left pretty much the same rotten aftertaste.

What about that aforementioned case of miscasting? Let me be clear: I like Penélope Cruz just fine. I thought she was great in Gothika and absolutely stunning in the majority of her Spanish language work. (She’s wondrous in Pedro Almodóvar’s All About My Mother and Live Flesh, and stunningly erotic in Alejandro Amenábar’s Open Your Eyes.) Yet, much like in seemingly every other one of her English language pictures, Cruz is wooden and unappealing. Point-of-fact, she shares absolutely zero chemistry with McConaughey and how these two ever ended up falling for one another (supposedly) on the set is way beyond me. Sahara dies every single time it focuses on her, making the turgid wretchedness of the final nearly pale when compared next to her performance.

Film Rating: êê  (out of 4)