The Doritos of science, in film form.

So many Scarlett Johansson movies commit the lazy sin of hoping you’ll find her hot enough that the bad scripts and low-impact performances be but a breeze on your boner. Lucy is not much different in this regard: a junk-science story of a woman whose turn as an unwitting drug mule unlocks the full killing power of her brain, Johansson stalks blankly through the movie in a black-bra/white-shirt combo (at least it doesn’t rain!), bent on revenge against the Korean gang that did this to her, before she hits 100 percent mind capacity (no one knows what happens then). She moves real fast and shoots the shit out of dirtbags, mostly. Morgan Freeman is around as a scientist who studies the brain/explains things to the audience, not that any of it much matters. French director Luc Besson (The Fifth Element) infuses this insanity with kinetic visuals and a brisk pace, and despite having few notes to play, Ms. Scarlett is mad appealing, capable and fierce. Lucy is no more illogical than any superhero movie you’ve ever seen, and an hour shorter.

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