Too drab to succeed even as defiantly unvirtuous trash, this era-straddling tale of an immortal medieval warrior protecting modern-day New York from a Black Death reboot stifles Diesel‘s rough-hewn charisma via a sludgy, impermeable oil spill of CGI effects - in the service of largely unspectacular hocus pocus. One of the trickier tasks Vin Diesel’s eponymous hero faces in “ The Last Witch Hunter” is tracking a villain by his signature scent of “moldering crabapples” - a distinctive enough fragrance in its own right, but hard to separate from the generally funky aroma of decomposition that permeates Breck Eisner’s limp, lame-brained occult thriller.
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