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May 6, 2004 
Who hasn’t read Mark Twain’s classic Tom Sawyer and thought to themselves, after closing the back cover and placing the book gently on a nearby table, “Now that was a fine work of early American fiction, but it just felt like something was missing. I know– flamethrower wielding robots!”
It took 127 years, but Hollywood has finally corrected Twain’s blunder. Sawyer, once embarrassingly robot-free, has been dusted off and given a big budget facelift worthy of the 21st Century. But the authors and filmmakers of “The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen” are smart: they realize that even a Tom Sawyer crawling with robots isn’t enough to fill ninety minutes of unbelievably loud cinema. So they pile on characters and situations from other previously incomplete and unsatisfactory literary works, including 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, Dracula, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Moby Dick, The Invisible Man, and of course, The Portrait of Dorian Gray (I swear, if I see ONE more action movie based on an Oscar Wilde book…).
Based on the graphic novels by Alan Moore (From Hell) and Kevin O’Neill (Judge Dredd) and directed by Stephen Norrington (“Blade”), “The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen” (hereafter LXG) plays like a Masterpiece Theater for the developmentally disabled. This isn’t a crossover for these legendary literary characters so much as a casserole into which they are all tossed, drowned in some generic brand pasta sauce, topped with crushed Ritz Crackers and baked for forty five minutes.
LXG finds legendary adventurer Allan Quartermain (of “King Solomon’s Mines”) having retired from his perilous exploits to the peace and harmony of war torn tribal Africa (?). When the Queen needs his services, Quartermain - played by 107 year old Sean Connery - reluctantly returns to England to get the movie started. Mysterious villains, you see, have been blowing up major European cities and framing rival nations so as to spark a World War. This is an extremely naughty thing to do.
The British government, world leaders in dealing with naughtiness, responds to the threat in the only sensible way: by calling up a roster of people who don’t exist. We don’t get to see it, but I would have enjoyed a scene where the Queen made her request before her bewildered court.
“…and I want Dr. Jekyll, and get me The Invisible Man, and Captain Nemo…”
“Um, Your Majesty…?”
And then they wrestle Her Royal Highness to the floor and give her some pills.
Anyway, the League is assembled and sets sail in the Nautilus to Venice, where the super mysterious villains are known to be planning their next attack (the better villains always have a PR department). The Nautilus – a gargantuan submarine that would dwarf any modern aircraft carrier – navigates the Venetian canals without a single problem. Along the way we learn a little something about each of our heroes that we did not know before. Tom Sawyer, for example, has traded in his white washing brush for a sniper rifle and operates as an assassin for the American Secret Service. No joke. Surely this is the legacy Twain intended to establish.
We also meet the tortured but noble Edward Hyde. Far from the conniving, raping alter-ego of Dr. Henry Jekyll from the original novel, this giant pink CGI creation is more like a misunderstood professional wrestler than a criminal. One part Hulk and two parts crappy animation, Hyde screams and breaks a lot of stuff.
But as insulting as these watered-down action figure versions of Sawyer and Hyde are, they are loving tributes compared with the characterization of Dorian Gray.
Here, in ascending order of inanity are the two major issues I took with the film’s portrayal of Dorian Gray: This Gray, played by the womany Stuart Townsend, is indestructible so long as his portrait is hidden from him. Bullets disintegrate upon contact. Stab wounds heal instantly. And I ache inside. Instead of the tortured, corrupted shell of a man from Wilde’s novel, we meet a smarmy, shaven-chested pretty boy who kills bad guys and drops their bodies to the floor with a catch-phrase and a smirk.
But that’s nothing compared with what happens next: Gray engages in a sexually tense love/hate romance with Mina Harker, the vampire killer. Anyone who has read The Portrait of Dorian Gray with even the slightest comprehension will find the image of Dorian flirting lustfully with a woman …questionable. Yes, there was Sibyl Vane, but c’mon. She was a total beard.
It should be emphasized at this point that even if LXG had featured a cast of original characters and not these literary mutants, it would still be bad enough to qualify as Cinema Craptastíque. The script seems to have been assembled from the descriptive copy on the back of video game packages with a sprinkling of those jokes you find printed on popsicle sticks, and the action is every bit as loud and confusing as a walk through the kitchen at a Japanese restaurant.
The hodge podge of time periods represented by the League’s members gives the filmmakers an excuse to trot out any anachronistic technological device they please. These include the aforementioned flamethrowing robots, an automobile, and a personal submarine the likes of which is unimaginable even by today’s standards.
By the end of its ninety minute run time, I’d say LXG has done more harm to world literature and human civilization in general than all the book burnings throughout history – and all without the pleasant aroma of charred parchment.
There is a moment during the supplemental video features on the DVD where a shamed Sean Connery explains why he took the role in LXG. I had assumed it was part of a court settlement, but apparently not. Connery relates that he had previously turned down roles in “The Matrix” and “Lord of the Rings” because he didn’t “get” the material, only to watch them become two of most successful franchises of all time. When “League” came along and similarly perplexed him, he decided he better not let this one slip away.
Poor Sean. Can’t seem to catch a break.
