An inconsistent Four Feathers crashes

Light as a feather, stiff as a board: an accurate description of the fluffy, trite, and dull Four Feathers, a film whose only good trait appears to be its fitting name. Wooden acting— we're talking robotic here— is combined with a plot written in gibberish and contemptible characters to produce a witches' brew of boredom and increasing irritation for any unlucky viewers.

The least director Shekhar Kapur could have done is shorten the torture from a dragging, meaningless, seemingly never-ending 130 minutes. But no, we are not spared one second of the insipid love story or overdone British patriotism. Nothing is explained, no thought is finished; the entire film is a mess of incomplete plot lines and mistaken historic ideals, resulting in a movie that resembles nothing so much as a collection of scenes still awaiting editing.

The opening scene sets the second-rate stage: text detailing the film's 19th century British setting with a patronizing description of the exact historical mood at the time. An overestimation of audience stupidity doesn't exactly create a friendly viewer atmosphere. Unfortunately, the trend of redundantly stating the obvious follows throughout the entire film, with frequent interludes of the main character's voice describing his precise train of thought and motivation for every action. Ever heard of "show, not tell"?

As obvious as the characters' motives are, the plot is equally muddled, creating a disaster effect of boredom and puzzlement. The story centers on a young British army officer named Harry (Heath Ledger) who has it all: the job, the friends, and the girl. In Count of Monte Cristo style, Harry loses each one successively: first his army post upon his resignation, next his army friends-- except his closest companion, the one and only Jack (Wes Bentley, seriously regressed from American Beauty acting form)-- who send Harry three white feathers, and lastly his dull and simpering girlfriend Ethne (Kate Hudson), who hands him one final feather.

Apparently the feathers are part of some obscure British rite symbolizing cowardice, and poor Harry is devastated upon receiving them. He is prompted by supposedly noble motives— but really just wounded pride— to run after his friends, who are struggling in a fruitless African war, and rescue each one consecutively to assuage his conscience. Posing as an Arab, Harry undergoes a supposedly intense physical transformation, becoming, well, hairy.

Harry's adventures in Africa drag on and on with each scene becoming increasingly implausible and ridiculous. Kapur isn't sure which side he wants to take in the imperialist vs. native battle; the film teeter-totters back and forth between native oppression and support for crown motives in Africa. After depicting scenes of intense African suffering, the film switches abruptly to a patriotic British speech with the British officers framed in holy light.

Confused and conflicted, at its very best, the film is mediocre; at its worst, a travesty of mistaken British support and confused ideals. The acting demeans the movie even further, with Hudson absolutely bland both in face and in ability, lending even less credibility to both Harry and Jack's unquenchable love for Ethney. Jack's expression remains a dark, brooding scowl the entire movie, each line delivered monotonously under the shadow of those black frowning eyebrows.

And at long last the end arrives, as Harry returns to Britain a day late and a dollar short— kind of like the movie.

THE FOUR FEATHERS (130 minutes at area theaters) is rated PG-13 for battle and whipping scenes.