Tomorrowland: A World Beyond

Directed and co-written by Brad Bird, the man responsible for the incredible The Incredibles, this is the most infuriating Disney movie ever. George Clooney staggers through it looking like he slept in a hedge and the sci-fi element is so confusing it turns your brain to mush.

Basically, if there is a basis to something so alien (even to aliens), the plot concerns the end of life as you know it. The saviour - more like hope-in-darkness - is not a revamped JC for the 21st century but a tomboy called Casey. Her qualities are positive. Don't accept the inevitable. Don't sit on your butt and allow disaster to engulf you. Ignore authority and go with your gut. Hope-in-darkness, babe, is another way of saying the blind shall inherit the night. What good is that? Casey is a NOW girl. She wants answers, not slogans.

That's it. That's the message. Believe in dreams. Don't let the robots reboot you.

The problem with the film, and it's a biggie, is that some clever clogs in Ideas thought it cool to shuffle time, never explain how the world ended, if indeed it did, or what happened to the people, why Hugh Laurie is dressed like Michael Jackson and calling himself President Nix and where the hell Tomorrowland is, other than Dubai (without the religion).

Clooney can't be short of a bob or two, which makes his appearance even more baffling. He couldn't have accepted the role of a bad tempered, paranoid inventor because he admired the script, surely. His job, it seems, is to chaperone Casey through a series of events - nice people might call them adventures - and protect her from the AI storm troopers.

CGI is abused pretty much, overindulged certainly, which hinders enlightenment. Somewhere over the rainbow the still small voice of Clarity can be heard. Not here unfortunately.

The best that can be filtered from the debris of post-apocalyptic ruin is Britt Robertson, who plays Casey. She's the real deal.