Welcome to "Elektra," fanboys. Spit one last spit, toss your mitt and prepare for permanent erectile dysfunction. See Jennifer Garner’s poorly padded bosom? Your hormones have dried up forever.
As for the rest of us, a 500-word tirade on the suck-suckity-suckness of "Elektra" is equal parts useless, redundant and silly. Of course "Elektra" is a terrible movie, but you can’t be offended because you had no business expecting anything from a spin off of Ben Affleck’s already unwatchable "Daredevil" in the first place.
So anger is replaced by bewilderment. How did this happen? Me. Here. Elektra. Why? The confusion was almost an out-of-body experience. By the time it was over, my feet were numb and white foam had formed in the corners of my mouth.
Elektra (Garner) is either a highly sought-after prostitute or deadly assassin, I still don’t know which. My suspicions arose when her "agent" finds her scrubbing the floor at the scene of her latest "assignment," and she tells him she’s cleansing the room of her DNA.
Then she’s hired to kill that guy who replaced George Clooney on ER, but can’t perform because even though she makes a living screwing/killing people, her wise mentor Stick tells her that her heart is too "pure" to commit any truly evil deeds.
But she still insists on fancying herself a bad seed. Stick, who is visually impaired but blessed with heightened senses (of course), yearns for young Elektra to discover that she’s not so dastardly after all. If the heavy-handed imagery is any indication (a bloody chain on her dead mommy’s chest), Elektra will accomplish this by freeing herself of bad childhood memories. See, she feels guilty because she couldn’t save her mother from dying. Or something. The message is conveyed with all the grace and profundity of Jerry Springer’s "Final Thought."
The wise mentor hires Elektra to kill the Clooney replacement and his daughter, Abby, so that Elektra will, um…end up fighting a gang of evil minorities who call themselves "The Hand." I don’t know whether this leap in logic was due to poor plotting or my own inattention, but who cares.
Elektra befriends the father and daughter and quickly learns that that Abby is a master at fighting with the most laughable and unthreatening weapon ever: what appears to be a golden shoestring. Together they battle a villain whose tattoos come to life and a man who can levitate sheets. Big, flapping sheets that are used to protect furniture from dust. You heard me.
Garner’s performance is exactly what you’d expect. She’s a woman of incredible emotional range – her facial expressions span from "Kitties are cute" to "My lips feel chapped" to "My daddy won’t buy me an Escalade." Less than stunning in her felt and vinyl skeaze-wear, she reveals her by now infamous red outfit at the movie’s climax as if – God bless her – she’s doing us all favor.
But the most exhilarating part of the movie was undoubtedly when the security guard manning this "Elektra" screening took a seat, dozed off and snored loudly until someone bumped him awake. Ten minutes later, he was snoring again. The lesson here is that if you go to Elektra expecting to see a decent movie, or even just to ogle a decent rack, you’ve ruined your own day. But if you’re masochistic or need a good nap, "Elektra" delivers.