I finally got round to watching The Da Vinci Code last night. That’s over two hours of my life that were completely wasted.
I should make it clear that my intense dislike of the book and, now, the film has nothing at all to do with the subject matter. In fact I’m very much in favour of anything that annoys religious people.
No what I hated about the book was that Dan Brown is quite possibly the worst writer to have ever been given a book deal. He simply has no idea how to write. His characters are one-dimensional and his plot makes no sense. He has no literary talent at all.
It’s a shame because the idea of the novel promised so much. And in a way, it’s nice that they’ve reflected that in the film. It all sounded like a good idea. The director is good. The cast are all well-respected (although I always thought that Hanks was miscast). The cinematography is all very pretty. And yet somehow all of those talented people have managed to create one of the dullest films it has ever been my misfortune to see.
It just proves what they say about silk purses and sows’ ears.