I'm hereby making a push for truth in titling after enduring The Hunter. Now it may be a bit on the lengthy side of things but here's my suggestion: "Willem Dafoe Sets a Slew of Tiger Traps as IMAX-styled Nature Shots are Randomly Interspersed".
Grant me this, it's better than Mars Needs Moms.
Set in the sublimely cinematographed Tasmania, Dafoe is Martin, a marksman hired by a biotech company to bag a vial of blood from the believed to be long gone Tasmanian tiger.
The lifelong loner is suddenly thrust into a communal setting, taking up residence with a doped-up mom and her two adorable kiddos - their dad MIA after attempting to track down the elusive beast himself. Martin's newly adopted family a clear ploy to evoke an emotional response that amounts to nothing more than an eye-rolling.
Enter Sam Neill, serving as both the local guide aiding Martin in his mission and caretaker of the hunter's newfound family. Neill's character is essentially useless aside from getting additional mileage out of his Jurassic Park getup.
When Dafoe isn't setting one of his innumerable traps, he's either: a) taking a bath or b) driving his SUV across the countryside. Roughly 30 percent of the film is spent in a bathtub or a Mitsubishi.
Driving up a mountain, driving down a mountain. Setting traps and getting into it with the locals who mistake Martin for a "greenie", the pesky environmentalists attempting to end the local logging trade. But have patience, there's another gorgeous view of the southern hemisphere beaut just seconds away.
By the time Dafoe tracks down the elusive CGI'd thylacine, my eyelids had washed over with a glaze of numbness. The big winner here, Tasmania's tourist board.