The Da Vinci Code (2006)

Here’s my deal with “The Da Vinci Code,” the box-office smash based on the Dan Brown best-seller. Legions of Christians gnawed their fists off because book and film dared shove an Easter Egg history shocker that Jesus Christ was married to Mary Magdalene inside a ridiculous 10-cent thriller about a professor of (snooze) symbology. But why? Both open thusly: At the Louvre, an albino monk  assassin (!) point-blank shoots an old man in the stomach, but grandpa rises and walks about, no blood, moving artwork and leaving arcane blue-light clues for the professor hero, and THEN strips naked, and sprawls out Da Vinci Vitruvian Man style, and dies without moving a twitch. If you can get past any of that to get pissy over Jesus’ sex life, than you need prayer. And brains. And I just touched on the plot holes. Some say “Code” attacks faith. Bull. It attacks thought. The Bible, with all its wonder, is more logical. Ron Howard directs on autopilot, Tom Hanks is adequate as the hero, and Audrey Tautou (“Amelie”) tries out English as the heroine. The sole highlight: Hans Zimmer’s fantastic score. It works miracles. D+