If the ambition is to provide two hours of instantly forgettable, popcorn-munching escapism, it succeeds.

By the time the dramatic fireworks start popping off, each one feels earned.

Blistering performances.

The movie turns out to be a little better than the average. Starting from a romantic formula often seen in the cinema, it ends in the most predictable (and somewhat bland) way.

The film has about 15 minutes of ritual and prophecy and an hour of boring interviews. Some guy named Michael channels the scripted prophecy through a dark mirror and insists on speaking in a boring monotone the whole film. The main mage was the Pat Robertson of the Astarte temple, speaking like that senile uncle who thinks he knows something.I suppose if you are into the pagan magic thing, this is about was good as it gets, almost Wiccan in their goddess worship. Yes he makes vague prophecies, of which I am certain all will come true.