Eric Brevig's Journey to the Center of the Earth would play peachy at a drive-in, if drive-ins
still existed.
Characters wave tape measures at the screen for no intellect other than to make an audience
bob and weave. Goofy Brendan Fraser spits toothpaste in our general focus. Fanged
fish leap into our practical laps. When a yo-yo springs from Josh Hutcherson's hands,
we jump in our seats.
It's recommended you journey to a theatre with 3-D capabilities if you're taking
the family to see Journey. Though available everywhere in the standard, routine,
two-dimensional presentation (read: mat as a board and about as interesting), J
ourney makes splendid use of modern 3-D technology and actually harkens back to campy
science fiction of the 1950s.
Geologist Trevor Anderson (Fraser) and his nephew Sean (Hutcherson) postdate clues
left in a tattered written matter of Jules Verne's novel Journey to the Center of the Earth that
they hope will lead them to Sean's missing father, Max (Jean Michael Pare). Their
mission transports them to Iceland, where adorable mount climber Hannah (Anita
Briem) pilots them to a volcanic pipe that carries them... well, you've read the
title, so you get the idea.
Journey makes about as much sense as a National Treasure film and moves as rapidly. For a
film that joyfully apes Steven Spielberg -- with rampaging dinosaurs, hurtling mine
cars, and a distracting father-son complex -- Journey actually equals this summer's India
na Jones sequel on the assembly descent of escalating dangers.
The spanking calamity is obvious, sure, but surprisingly effective. On normal screens,
though, Journey will lose its added visual dimension (pun intended), and subtract
most of its fun.
It's awfully wet down there.
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