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Do you like gore? Meaningless gore? Excessive gore? Do you like plotlines that you can’t follow and don’t even want to? Do you like lame sex scenes and pointless topless screenshots? Then Hitman might just be the movie for you!

Maybe the reason why I’m so irreversibly pissed off about this movie is that my hopes were so high. Don’t ask me why-I should have seen the galumphing, gas-leaking, rickety and falling apart train wreck of a movie for what it was from the get-go. But on the contrary-I felt cheated by the movie. The opening credits were so cool, and then, the aforementioned train wreck took place.

Through creepy, mystical music, the names of the movie director, the producer, and the starring actors floated onto the black screen-and now I saw rows of blue-coated orphans executing martial arts moves in perfect synchrony. On the backs of their heads, bar-codes glowed in the eerie luminescence emanating from the TV screen. Man, I thought, this movie is going to rock. I already knew what it was going to be about. A futuristic, totalitarian government, using the martial mastery of children, estranged from their parents at a young age, to bring the merciless and raw power of the government down upon insubordinate heads. A hero amongst the orphan mercenaries, who rises above and sees the evil of his government; forms a revolution and overthrows the dictator-but in doing so, falls prey to greed and temptation and descends into darkness.

Boy, was I wrong.

As the opening credits drew to a close, the scene opened on a darkened living room. As a mysterious looking man entered, he found himself face to face with another mysterious looking gentleman (the mysteriousness didn’t last, in case you were wondering). Mysterious man 1 inquired if mysterious man 2 was going to kill him. The second man replied that if he was going to kill him, mysterious man 1 would already be dead (or some variation on that inevitable line). Okay, I thought, it’s a little cliché, so what? This movie is still going to rock the house down.

Man 2 (this is about when they stopped being mysterious) then inquired when it was right to kill. For a movie that posed such a deep and profound moral quandary, it didn’t show a whole lot of respect for the living-I didn’t notice any qualms or internal struggles when 47 (yes, that is the name of the main character) blew the brains out of a politician with a sniper rifle, to say nothing of the massive body count the movie accumulated.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. No, wait-I’m actually not. For reasons best known to himself, 47 felt the urge to assassinate a politician. Don’t ask me why, as far as I can see it never tied in with the rest of the movie. Cool, cool, I thought, when he aimed at the guy’s head. So it’s fast paced, there’s nothing wrong with that.

It didn’t get any better. I wasn’t particularly excited about the brains and blood splattering, and then, at the secret agent guys insistence, replaying the tape several times-rewinding it, even, to figure out some other hidden mystery, so I saw the whole gross ordeal over again.

It was at this point that the intricate ice sculpture that was my fantasy of this movie began to melt. There was no intelligent plot. 47 poured machine gun bullets into his enemies with an eagerness that was probably supposed to be cool. It wasn’t. I just found myself wanting the fight scenes to be over. Well, no, not quite true. When the fight scenes ended, a new element of the movie arose that was even worse: the love story. Actually, ‘sex story’ would be more fitting here-I don’t feel it was worthy of being called a love story, whatever it was.

After a few minutes of crying over all the unspeakable (but I’m sure manly and necessary) violence that 47 was committing against her associates, the lover declared that he was "actually quite charming when he wasn’t killing people." Whatever charm she detected was lost on me; however, that appeared to be all it took-five minutes later she was topless and straddling him.

It was at this moment (another sign that this movie must have been a serious bore) that I crumpled backward onto the floor. My ornate ice sculpture of darkness, glory and political intrigue had been sledge-hammered; what remained was a slush of gore, sex, and crappiness.

I don’t even remember what happened in the final third of the movie. Except the grand finale-that was pretty hard to miss. The movie wound down with a heroic shot of 47 hefting a gun, off to blow the brains out of more politicians, and ruin an hour and forty minutes of more innocent movie-goers lives.

Review submitted via our Submit A Review page.