Indians slug it out with Vikings in this dumb but energetic adventure, writes Donald Clarke

Argh! It's only April, but 2007 has already proved a great year for those of us who enjoy watching angry maniacs hack bits off one another with sharp objects. Following on from Apocalypto, 300and Curse of the Golden Flower, Pathfinder, a nominal remake of a Norwegian film from 1988, sounds like another opportunity to delight in ancient physical agonies. After all, how could a film following a battle between Vikings and American Indians be anything other than a delight?

Easily enough, as it happens. In its defence, Pathfinderdoes boast a startling opening sequence. Peering through the picture's pervasive gloom, we spy Indian woman stumbling across the ruins of a Viking vessel in a steep lagoon. Inside she encounters an abandoned Norse youth whom she goes on to raise as her own.

A decade or so later, the lad has grown into the Brendan Fraser sapling known - insofar as he is known at all - as Karl Urban. When the Vikings return and begin their customary pillaging, he has no hesitation in siding with his adopted people against the impolite invaders.

There are some gripping sub-Conan brawls in the hour that follows, but Pathfinderis too reliant on drab computer- generated backgrounds and asks more than can be delivered of the uncharismatic Mr Urban. Morevoer, refashioning the Vikings in the image of the noisier villains from The Lord of the Ringsdoes lend a second- hand feel to the flabby enterprise.

Still, though not worthy to wash the feet of the mighty Apocalypto, Pathfinderdoes have a certain robust, unpretentious honesty to it. It may not quite come off in the cinema, but it could go down reasonably well on DVD accompanied by a crate of beer. Argh!