Self/Less

17 July 2015 | 3:18 pm | Guy Davis

"Self/Less feels like an exercise in cutting corners."

I'm starting to feel bad for Ryan Reynolds, which is weird because I doubt a rich, handsome dude who's married to Blake Lively really needs the sympathy of a chump like me.

But Reynolds just can't catch a break lately when it comes to his projects and performances — what he's attaching himself to may sound good on paper in terms of intriguing concepts, interesting co-stars or rewarding career possibilities but something is getting lost in translation.

Take Self/Less (there's probably some reason for the slash in the title but I'm damned if I know), a toothless riff on an idea already potently, perfectly explored in the unsettling '60s drama Seconds (seriously, go seek it out).

Real estate baron Damian (Ben Kingsley, whose particular brand of spiced ham adds some much-needed flavour early on) is the man who has everything. Unfortunately, 'everything' includes an aggressive cancer diagnosis that will kill him within a year.

But someone as rich as Damian also has access to shadowy experimental procedures like the one overseen by Albright (Matthew Goode) — that is, a procedure that will see Damian's consciousness transferred to a young, healthy body genetically-engineered specially for him.

So Damian becomes Ryan Reynolds. Or 'Edward', to be precise. And he starts taking advantage of all the benefits a fit young physique can provide.

But when he misses one pill in his new round of medication, he starts having hallucinations... hallucinations that feel a lot like memories. Yep, Damian's new body had a previous owner.

More often than not, Self/Less feels like an exercise in cutting corners. It acknowledges the fascinating existential and philosophical dilemmas that would accompany such a situation (and make for genuinely gripping drama) but quickly shoves them to one side in favour of so-so car chases and fistfights.

Reynolds handles the physical demands of the role very well indeed (as an action man, he carries himself with both grace and authority) but finds himself a little adrift when it comes to the other requirements of his role.