The tricks used to prevent us from suspecting the biggest two-face in this traitor-within-the ranks tale would be laughable even if the culprit’s identity were an intriguing question. As it is, watching White House staffer Charlie Sheen slowly discover that he can trust no one proves only that the filmmakers are blissfully ignorant of The X-Files—they have no idea what makes a convincing conspiracy scenario. This movie takes itself seriously anyway—the sorry attempts at humor and style don’t make it tongue in cheek. Bland, interminable chase scenes take up so much of the story—the hackneyed plot doesn’t need much exposition—that the sheer repetitiveness begins to amaze you. On-line databases, grid maps, and surveillance camera footage—somehow deemed inherently cinematic—are all accorded the status of full-frame representation, even though sophisticated technology is lost on the characters. Someone mysteriously homes in on Sheen several times before it occurs to him not to use his cellular phone (which happens to work just fine after it’s been submerged in water). George Cosmatos directs a script by Adi Hasak and Ric Gibbs.
