Next

Orchestrated by evildoers from hostile quarters of the global village, a nuclear holocaust looms over Los Angeles. This ought to ease traffic, but the FBI, headed by an extremely excitable Julianne Moore, is concerned enough to forcibly recruit the services of a two-bit Vegas magician and pre-Cog (a freshly buffed and alluringly gaunt Nicolas Cage) who until now has made trivial use of his power — this being lifted, by heavy-breathing writers Gary Goldman, Jonathan Hensleigh, and Paul Bernbaum, from a Philip K. Dick story — to see two minutes into the future. That's unless you count his moony recurring visions of a dewy stranger played by Jessica Biel, who has little to do but look aghast with Gelignite strapped to her lovely bosom. Oh, never mind the daft plot: Directed by Lee Tamahori with his customary flash and glitter, Next lives from one brilliantly executed chase sequence to the next, which is more than enough reason to stay the course. If the deliciously sneaky trick at the end doesn't make you gasp, then I'm sorry to say you are no longer capable of surprise.

 
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