A.E.W. Mason's 1902 novel The Four Feathers has already been made into a feature-length film six times, featuring the likes of Fay Wray, William Powell, Jane Seymour and Beau Bridges.  The seventh is a gorgeous but deceptively shallow picture directed by Elizabeth's Shekhar Kapur.  Aside from Robert Richardson's (Snow Falling on Cedars) incredible photography, most of the individual aspects of Feathers fall flat, though the sum of those parts do manage to make it an entertaining trip to the theatre.  I say this because the film was pretty enjoyable while it was on the screen, but the more I thought about it, the more I problems I had with it.

Feathers opens in 1875 England, where the young soldiers of the Royal Cumbrian Regiment play a very violent game of rugby over the opening credits.  Once he's cleaned up, Harry Faversham (Heath Ledger, Monster's Ball), the unspoken leader of the company, proposes to his sweetie Ethne (Kate Hudson, Almost Famous) at a big shindig.  The joyous moment is short-lived, however, as Harry and his men soon find out they've been assigned to quell a rebel uprising in the Sudan.  Everyone is excited except Harry, who looks like he just shit his britches.

Faced with the prospect of war, Harry decides to resign his position with the Cumbrians, a choice that does not sit well with his girl, his fellow soldiers or his father, who happens to be a bigwig with the military. Already feeling down in the dumps, Harry becomes completely distraught when he receives four white feathers, which imply he's a big fat pussy for wimping out on his pals (I would have given him a feather and a sound thumping, to boot).

Haunted by the receipt of the titular feathers, Harry decides to go to the Sudan on his own, and he dies almost as soon as he sets foot in the desert. He quickly finds himself drafted into a slave army and lugging huge, heavy cannons around, looking like John Walker Lindh the entire time.  Then he hooks up with a native named Abou Fatma (Gladiator's Djimon Hounsou, who once again finds himself playing the intimidating black sidekick to the more popular Aussie star).  A myriad of adventures follow as Harry tries to complete his mission.  The trouble is, his mission is entirely unclear.  I think it's to reclaim both his good name and the camaraderie of his little friends.

There are so many questions Feathers doesn't answer, most notably, "Why is Harry so scared about going off to war, but then turns into such a frigging John McClane when he gets to the desert?"  There is also a pretty big unanswered question relating to the contributors of the feathers, though going into the particulars might ruin the story for some.  The film, like Harry's character, lacks direction, and at times it seems like parts of it are missing.  Feathers is also surprisingly unemotional, with its dud romance absolutely reeking of Pearl Harbor's war-set love triangle.

There's plenty more to whine about, like the fact that there isn't really any antagonist, unless you count the nameless, faceless Sudanese rebels, but they were just trying to fend off those awful Brits.  Feathers' battle scenes, which will make you pine for Braveheart, don't manage to cut the mustard.  The big "Maintain the square!" sequence is shot all wrong, failing to give proper perspective and scope to what the soldiers were facing.  You also don't get the impression that around 10 years pass between the opening scene and the closing credits.  Ledger's teeth are intermittently rotten brown and pearly white.  And Kate Hudson?  Let's just say she's no Gwyneth Paltrow.

I'm sure I won't be the only person wishing the film were about Abou instead of Harry, as Hounsou easily gives Feathers its best and most heartfelt performance.  I'm not pinning the blame on any miscasting (though plenty of other people are), but would like to point out the background of the film's writers.  Hossein Amini has adapted two stuffy books into exceptional movies (Jude and The Wings of the Dove), while Michael Schiffer makes a lot of crappy action flicks (The Peacemaker and Crimson Tide).  Unfortunately, it looks like Schiffer hogged the ball.

2:05 -

for intense battle sequences, disturbing images, violence and some sensuality