Fronsac and Mani work an amusing line: Like the hero in Caleb Carr's "The Alienist," they apply logic and forensics to a series of crimes that have yet to be so analyzed. They interview people. They take measurements. They make drawings. They conjecture philosophically. Mani talks to trees (Indian, remember?). This seems on the way to yielding interesting results, until the movie swells beyond accountability and becomes completely ridiculous.
Yet the fighting, which fills so much of the second very long half of "The Brotherhood of the Wolf," isn't particularly impressive. It's a French imitation of American imitations of Hong Kong originals, and nothing feels fresh or unusual, beyond the ludicrousness of time and setting. Worse, it doesn't feel authentic; photo tricks, editing, slo-mo and that sort of legerdemain suggest we are watching not athletes but movie fakes. At least in "The Matrix," Keanu learned basic martial-arts moves. Not so for Sammy Le Bien.