Fantastic Four

Within the space of a year, three of the finest superhero movies ever made have passed through cinema screens: the crowd and critic-pleasing Spider-Man 2 was a joyous romp, equally at home dealing drama and stirring action set-pieces with pizzazz. Batman Begins showed how to make an origin story interesting, by focusing on character and less on "those wonderful toys", with a splendid finale driving home the crippling power of human fear. And, of course, The Incredibles - Pixar's finest hour. The bar has been raised three times over - and Fantastic Four can't get within a mile of it.

A cosmic storm mutates four scientists and the CEO of a corporation, while researching on a space-station. They change, acquiring powers and unexpected benefits. One's body stretches like chewing gum, another gains invisibility powers and the ability to create forcefields, a third discovers he can turn his body into flame, and so on.. (If it feels like I'm spewing a list then let's just say the film feels like I'm ticking them off one at a time.)

It's pointed that much of the superheroes powers in Fantastic Four map well against The Incredibles, which makes it all the more depressing when you figure out what Brad Bird got right, than Tim Story and the writers of F4 got wrong. The superb characterisation of The Incredibles is paired off with largely trite, inert and occasionally miscast (Jessica Alba, undoubtedly a scream at spandex parties, take a bow!) characters.

The only one that looks like he's having fun is Chris Evans (Cellular), as the Human Torch - capable of burning hotter than the sun. Uh-huh. Even so, Evans mixes his asshole-bravado into something strangely appealing, he plays a guy with an attitude, who wants to better himself. Aside from Evans, when the characters are defined by their powers and not the other way around, who really cares? Where's the imagination and joy of Spidey? Mr Fantastic stretching for a piece of bog-roll in the next cubicle isn't much of a substitute.

Even the leader of the expedition, Doctor Von Doom exists merely to provide a climactic finale to an origin movie. His performance and mannerisms echo Kevin Spacey horribly, which doesn't bode well for Bryan Singer's Superman Returns, with Spacey cast as Lex Luthor.

Also, the sheer joy of The Incredibles script, writing and outrageously clever gags is hopelessly ham-shanked into what might as well be a non-existent story. Perfunctory in the extreme. The conflicts in Fantastic Four feel like the writing mechanisms, full of the basic screenwriting recipies and contrivances that we all know they are. With one-liners that open the eyes in horror.

Tim Story shows himself a suitably capable action director, if uninspired. He's got some way to go before he acquits himself for the pile-up that was Taxi, however. He can handle actors (Barbershop), but the daft characterisation (the love-triangle makes me howl for the return of Katie Holmes!) and short, uninvolving set-pieces imposed by the script show a distinct lack of balls on the behalf of writers France and Frost. It makes for a movie content to be horribly dull, in spite of the eye-candy.