Traditionally, the third act of a story is where things go wrong. David Goyer must have taken this to heart, directing his own inept screenplay to… nothing much. Desperately trying to infuse the original’s energy, his camera flies about to the hip hop soundtrack like a doll that says “I want to be loved” when you squeeze its large intestine. But it’s plastic. And creepy. Dolls are fucking creepy. What were we talking about?