It’s almost impossible sitting down to watch the loopy sci-fi thriller 65 without being niggled by a familiar sinking feeling, like you’re about to eat a meal that you know won’t agree with your system. Despite the intriguing presence of Adam Driver, whose post-Star Wars roles have typically prioritised art over commerce, and a magnetically gonzo premise that sees a pilot crash-land on prehistoric Earth, it’s arriving weighed down by baggage heavy enough to flatten any hopes the thrillingly nutty trailer might have inspired.
Not only has the film, shot two years ago, already missed five prior release dates but it’s landing last minute without much of a visible campaign (it was only officially scheduled last month) and almost entirely without screenings for critics (I attended the only one in New York, taking place just hours before release). Inevitably, this then lowers even the most optimistic of optimist’s expectations to beneath ground level, a cursed backstory for something seemingly so awful that studio Sony would rather bury it than have anyone actually watch it. But as is often the case with such a lead-in, it’s more ho-hum than horrible, a mess but not a hugely embarrassing one.
