Elektra – Review


I was actually kind of hoping Elektra would be bad, but it was worse than bad, it was boring.

As I sat down I remarked to my wife “wish me luck” and wait for this to be another Catwoman. But after about a half hour I found myself wondering if it was too late for a Mountain Dew.

Elektra, who seems to have lost her last name since Daredevil, returns from the dead and works as a Frederick’s of Hollywood clad assassin until she’s hired to kill Mark Miller and his thieving yet supposedly likable daughter.

Of course she’s conflicted after meeting each of them for roughly ten combined minutes and forming some sort of deep instantaneous bond, and ends up protecting them instead from the murderous Hand organization.

Blah blah blah ninjas blah blah fighting blah blah blah mystical warriors blah blah green smoke blah blah blah meaningless flashback blah blah blah blah blah…

The few good parts mostly revolve around Jennifer Garner in a skimpy red corset, a weird lesbian death kiss from a character named Typhoid, and the poorly named Tattoo villain (I couldn’t help yelling “The plane! The plane!” at the TV) whose inky coverings come alive and leave his body.

(For those of you looking to check this out for the corset factor alone, don’t waste your time. There’s a little bit at the beginning, but it’s lit rather darkly, and then you don’t see it again until an hour and eleven minutes in.)

When compared to other recent Marvel movies, this is somewhere between The Punisher and Hulk. You don’t have Travolta dragging it down, but there’s no giant green guy either.

Darn it, I was really really looking forward to writing this review. I’d gone looking for pictures of both Garner and Berry and started creating little charts to compare Elektra and Catwoman. I’d begun working on a great graphic involving the two of them duking it out too. This was going to be fun! But sadly, Elektra is so uninteresting it isn’t even worthy of mockery.

So, unbelievable as it sounds, I still like Catwoman better. Sure, Berry’s performance is laughable, but at least it was so bad it was watchable.

(BTW, for those of you who remember the Catwoman review, on the Margie “You’ve got to be kidding me!” scale, this rated only seven outbursts in 96 minutes.)