A review of Wrath of the Titans that's actually an excuse to talk about the curious case of Sam Worthington
What is it about Sam Worthington? He's Australian, he's male and he's Australian - three sure-fire ways to capture my heart, but there's just one problem: HE. IS. DULL. He over-shadowed Christian Bale in Terminator: Salvation but that's been forgotten thanks to endless performances that have zero charm, zero charisma, zero humour and approximately 1.5 facial expressions combined. Gossip about the private lives of Tom Cruise, Will Smith and George Clooney all you want, but at least those guys are movie stars; movie stars who carry films and have the ability to make every retina in a cinema focus on them. I really want to like Worthington and have heard he's one of the nicest blokes in the business, but fucking hell, he's the only actor alive who's more of a movie star in real life than on the big screen. If Gosling is a moreish bowl of Crunchy Nut Cornflakes and Clooney is champagne breakfast in a swish hotel, Worthington is a few Weetabix biscuits with a dribble of water and not even a dash of bloody sugar. DO NOT WANT.