'Fool's Gold' (12A) Starring Matthew McConaughey & Kate Hudson

Fool’s Gold is a film that simply screams Christmas Day screening.  You know the type: inoffensive, reasonably entertaining and totally unremarkable, it’s perfect fare for brandy-buttered brains and stodge-filled stomachs on December 25th. Film number 11 for director Andy Tennant, it’s even set in a faraway, aspirational sunny paradise – the Caribbean, complete with transparent seas, golden sands and a soporific pace of life.

The movie was actually filmed in the South Pacific, but this geographical sleight of hand is not nearly as inventive as Fool’s Gold’s swashbuckling premise. Together with fellow scripters, John Claflin and Daniel Zelman, Tennant pieces together a treasure-hunting tangle involving a sunken Spanish galleon, lost jewels of inestimable value and crafty 18th century Venezuelans.

Attempting to solve this riddle and bag the bounty are a cartoonish collection of characters. From hero to villain, these number the naïve and ever-enthusiastic Finn (McConaughey), his estranged, sassy wife, Tess (Hudson), her employee, billionaire yachter Nigel Honeycutt (Sutherland), veteran diver Moe (Ray Winstone, wearing a load of Hawaiian shirts) and Bigg Bunny (Kevin Hart), a gangsta rapper hunting a new kind of booty on the island he controls.

Likeable enough as a bickering on-off couple, McConaughey and Hudson re-unite five years after a much more by-the-numbers rom-com, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. This time it’s he who’s doing the divesting, although Tess succumbs again to Finn’s regularly displayed physique and boyish charm so quickly, it’s impossible to understand why she chucked him in the first place.

Much of Fool’s Gold’s attempted comedy is just as incomprehensible. A slur of set-pieces misfire – such as McConaughey failing to notice his boat sinking behind him – and supposedly witty support characters (predominantly two gay chefs) summon scarcely a titter. Tennant further rocks his jovial boat by including some truly dark moments: innards sprayed from blowholes, and henchmen executed in cold-blood.

Nevertheless, his film still sneaks a 12A certificate, enabling it to likely please the Easter-holidaying family it entreats. Treasure-hunting is an alluring subject sure to stoke childish imaginations, and it’s well-handled here: dusty crypts, clues in shimmering coral reefs and baffling brain-twisters are all present here. All that’s missing is a yellowy map, a message in a bottle and Captain Jack Sparrow.

Tennant duly cranks up the pace as Fool’s Gold’s forces of good and evil race to find the swag, the director replacing rum shacks and reggae classics with shootouts and vivacious orchestral pieces. Gladly this means the abandonment of a few trivial plot strands – the worst offender being Nigel’s reconciliation with his ditchwater-dull daughter, spoilt Gemma (Alexis Dziena). Walking a plank would be too good for both of them.

The frantic finale sees the admirably inept Tess and Finn fully testing Tennant’s devotion to a happy ending. They are blighted by constant explosions, premature declarations of joy and seemingly inescapable scrapes. None of which are especially unexpected: those opposed to surprises may have found their ideal film.  McConaughey and Hudson remain impressively resplendent during their trials though – you can positively see the studio sheen glistening on their perfect bodies.

Both actors produce perky and pleasing enough, if faintly self-conscious, performances. Winstone tries to lend colour, but his catalogue of Hawaiian shirts are undermined by an accent so preposterous that it’s actually unrecognisable. Scarily, Ewen Bremner runs him close in the stupid voice stakes as a Ukrainian hanger-on. As for the soppy Sutherland, can he really need the money this badly?

For cash will surely follow.  As uninspiring as it is, Fool’s Gold is pleasant and perfunctory enough to guarantee bums on seats and popcorn in mouths, if not much intellectual discussion. A strongly-pushed DVD release and that inevitable Yuletide screening will follow.  It all feels dispiritingly predictable and safe – but that probably suits Tennant’s producers right down to the ocean ground.