Det. Frank Turner (Peter Facinelli) and his partner Lisa Martinez (Sarah Deakins) are sent to protect pretty scientist Dr. Maggie Dalton (Laura Regan), who holds the formula for 'The Buffer', the top secret serum psychopathic special-forces assassin Michael Griffin (Christian Slater) needs to stay alive. The only problem: Griffin is invisible!
The makers of Hollow Man 2 clearly didn't have the budget of the original: bad guy Griffin (Christian Slater) is invisible from the outset, saving a bundle on 'gradually disappearing human' CGI effects. But despite being strapped for cash, there really is no excuse for such a lame sequel, which suffers from a lacklustre plot, dull performances, and most surprisingly, a lack of trashiness. If only director Claudio Fäh had taken a leaf or two out of executive producer Paul Verhoeven's book and ladled on the excess, HM2 would have been a hell of a lot more entertaining (blood, guts and boobies don't cost the earth, but are guaranteed crowd pleasers).
As it stands, HM2 is predictable straight to DVD junk that offers very little to fans of the first film: what effects there are have a distinctly cheap look; Slater phones in the majority of his performance (he only actually appears in a brief flashback); the script and direction are bland; and the film ends rather abruptly with the highly trained Griffin being defeated all too easily by Turner.
Worse still, the only scene that showed any potential for genuine sleaze—a pair of randy teenagers making a home made porn video discover that Griffin is in their room—is suddenly dropped without any kind of resolution. Did Griffin kill the kids? Did he join in for a kinky invisible man threesome? Who knows? One thing is for sure: Verhoeven wouldn't have let the opportunity to show us what happened slip through his fingers so readily.
The makers of Hollow Man 2 clearly didn't have the budget of the original: bad guy Griffin (Christian Slater) is invisible from the outset, saving a bundle on 'gradually disappearing human' CGI effects. But despite being strapped for cash, there really is no excuse for such a lame sequel, which suffers from a lacklustre plot, dull performances, and most surprisingly, a lack of trashiness. If only director Claudio Fäh had taken a leaf or two out of executive producer Paul Verhoeven's book and ladled on the excess, HM2 would have been a hell of a lot more entertaining (blood, guts and boobies don't cost the earth, but are guaranteed crowd pleasers).
As it stands, HM2 is predictable straight to DVD junk that offers very little to fans of the first film: what effects there are have a distinctly cheap look; Slater phones in the majority of his performance (he only actually appears in a brief flashback); the script and direction are bland; and the film ends rather abruptly with the highly trained Griffin being defeated all too easily by Turner.
Worse still, the only scene that showed any potential for genuine sleaze—a pair of randy teenagers making a home made porn video discover that Griffin is in their room—is suddenly dropped without any kind of resolution. Did Griffin kill the kids? Did he join in for a kinky invisible man threesome? Who knows? One thing is for sure: Verhoeven wouldn't have let the opportunity to show us what happened slip through his fingers so readily.