I Am Number Four

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i am number fourI Am Number Four is a big number two.

Things started off promising. There’s a beach party, good looking women, the Black Keys are playing, and it’s off for a quick swim. When we see the shot from below, we start thinking Jaws. And what happens? His leg lights up a bit, and the video is put on YouTube and a website about aliens called “They Walk Among Us.”

Not sure how someone got that on video and they deemed him an alien, but they were right.

This guy (Alex Pettyfer) and nine others escaped from evil aliens that wanted to kill them. He is saddled with the name John Smith. His protector and pretend father (Timothy Olyphant) said this is so they don’t draw attention. I’m guessing John Smith — the Patron Saint of Hotel Registrations — probably draws more attention.

And when the cute cheerleader at the new school asks your name, you don’t have to say “John Smith.” I never said my first and last name in high school when someone asked my name unless it was the teacher on the first day of classes.

The movie is entertaining at times, but it’s so derivative of everything that’s ever come before it.

It’s hard to get into this whole teen angst thing, and you end up thinking early on, that this is a sci-fi film for the Twilight set.

When Smith’s hands light up, as he’s realizing he has all these powers, you wonder why he doesn’t use those to join the track and field team, and throw a shot-put a few hundred yards.

There’s a scene where he runs near a train and I immediately thought of the first Superman, where he runs around it as he discovers his super powers.

Instead, we just see him pining for the cheerleader, who writes, takes photographs, and has a wonderful family.

This is a movie where you start rooting for the bad aliens.

When they’re stabbed or shot, they disintegrate in a neat fashion – much the way characters did in Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (a much better movie that teens will enjoy way more than this).

There’s not an original scene in this, and there’s really no reason to see it. I can’t believe MichaelBay and Steven Spielberg have their names attached to this.

They set things up for possible sequels, but I’m guessing that won’t happen.

Even the title of the movie is awful. It’s like a text message from Brett Favre. In fact, I would’ve rather seen the photos he sent than spending two hours watching this.

It gets a D-.