In theaters tomorrow...Pathfinder
Getting crap reviews, though... 
Six hundred years before Columbus, the Viking hordes land on North America, itching to claim it as their own. During their first excursion, they leave a boy behind—a boy who, after being adopted by a Native American tribe, grows up to be a beefy (as in the head) dreamboat named "Ghost" (Karl Urban). Ghost doesn't really fit in, but he's making a go of it, spending his free time practicing with his sword and making googly eyes at a comely lass named Starfire (Moon Bloodgood). Then, to everyone's apparent amazement, the Viking hordes return, looking for blood.
What follows is 90 minutes of solid, skeezy slaughter. Ghost, whose sword skills looked to be on par with my own backyard broom handling in the third grade, suddenly turns into an almighty killing machine, ambushing the Vikings with the help of Starfire and a flute-toting mute. Limbs are severed, blood gushes, and director Marcus Nispel (who previously remade The Texas Chainsaw Massacre) films all of it in a gloomy blur. By the time all parties wind up dangling from a cliff, hacking and pounding each other with the threat of an avalanche looming overhead, preposterous is too weak a word. There is B-grade and there is D-grade. Pathfinder is definitely the latter. BRADLEY STEINBACHER
