Renny Harlin's 12 Rounds is formulaic action rubbish, writes DONALD CLARKE
JOHN CENA, a man with a head like two hams stuck together with bubble gum, is, it says here, a wrestler of no little renown. The film is co-produced by World Wrestling Entertainment and, as you will have noted, it is called 12 Rounds. It is, therefore, not unreasonable to assume that it's got something to do with wrestling.
Not a bit of it. Did wrestling fans descend on the WWE with burning torches when they discovered the film was, in fact, a combination of Die Hard 3and the old ITV game show 321? They're not the sort of people I'd like to anger.
Anyway, 12 Roundsbegins with Officer Cena – husband to one of those movie wives whose demur blondness dooms her to annihilation or abduction – stopping evil Aidan Gillen from demolishing New Orleans and slaughtering the firstborn of every Louisianan couple (or something). A year or so later, Gillen, whose hot girlfriend died in the earlier affray, returns to visit revenge on the cop and his enormous neck.
Mrs Cena is kidnapped (see!) and her husband is presented with an ultimatum: solve 12 puzzles or face up to life as a widower. Can he transport a wolf, a sheep and a bag of grain across the Mississippi in just one rowing boat? Can he remember all the items on this conveyer belt? The hero dons his incredibly large thinking cap.
Mr Cena is never going to be confused with John Gielgud, and Gillen, whose accent nips backwards and forwards across the Atlantic in mid-syllable, overdoes the cackling something rotten. Still, Renny Harlin, a veteran of this sort of thing, does layer on the odd decent action sequence, and the puzzles are amusing up to a point. Up to a point, mind. By the time we’ve reached round five or so, the high concept has already long outstayed its welcome.
In his earlier career, Cena would, at this stage, have been whacked over the head with a stepladder and carried moaning from the ring. No such relief here.
