It's a common flaw of epics, especially fantasy epics so long they make the Bible look like a Chick tract, to pad their stories with a lot of action-filled tangents with little to no connection to the main story.
You know: "First we must visit the Oracle at Wikipedia, which will tell us how to obtain the Burger King's crown, the artifact we'll need to convince the Jonas Brothers to lend us their army of preteen fans, who in turn will harass their parents into buying our action figures, providing us with enough cash to buy the B-52s we'll need to bomb the kraken into calamari! Onward, brave cannon fodder! I mean, thinly-characterized comrades."
A rip-roaring adventure, to be sure, but it's built on interchangeable plot coupons that usually feel hollow. I can't tell you how much of this structure should be blamed on the original Clash of the Titans--as usual, I was too busy being unemployed to watch it--but the remake could have taken the opportunity to tighten up its episodic story.
Hades (Ralph Fiennes) and Zeus (Liam Neeson) have given the blasphemous city of Argos a choice: sacrifice their princess, or be destroyed in ten days by the horrible kraken. But mankind is tired of the gods' cruelty and arrogance. They're ready to fight back.
Their champion is Perseus (Sam Worthington), half-mortal son of Zeus whose adoptive family was murdered by Hades. Burning for revenge, he gathers a crew of soldiers and semi-mortal creatures on a quest to discover how they can destroy the invincible kraken and take Hades down.
Clash of the Titans is epic. Big monsters, big biceps, and big commandments called down from Mount Olympus itself. And if you like Lord of the Rings-style quests where dudes walk through badlands that really call for much sturdier shoes than sandals, expect to be disappointed anyway, because Clash of the Titans is also a pretty big mess.
Granted, the graphics are stunning. The kraken is big. I would not like to fight it, and if you get a few drinks in me I think I can fight Dolph Lundgren, the only man who's beaten up Stallone and Van Damme. Director Louis Leterrier throws some fun action scenes our way, pitting spears and swords against underworld bat-men, giant scorpions, and witches who look like rejects from a Guillermo Del Toro movie.
Too bad the characters sometimes have to talk. The dialogue in Clash of the Titans is used for two things: silly epic pronouncements ("Release the kraken!") and the assorted warriors and gods explaining to each other what the hell's happening now.
Which is nice, because its epic story is one crazy plot coupon after another, arbitrary sub-quests Worthington and his merry band must complete on the way to their main objective.
Meanwhile, no one's motivation is all that clear, especially the machinations of the gods. (Hades doesn't just kill Worthington himself...why? To be sneaky? But it seems like the gods know everything that's happening anyway.) I blame this on the three-headed hydra of the scriptwriters, who get very low mileage out of their sidekicks, too. Mads Mikkelsen (the Bond villain from Casino Royale) as the grizzled sergeant is pretty badass, and I'm glad to see The Kingdom's Ashraf Barhom, but everyone else is just some Greek redshirt.
This fuzziness robs Clash of the Titans of nearly all its drama. It's an enjoyably ridiculous ride while you're on it, yeah. Just don't expect those good feelings to last.
Grade: C-
