Erik Lehnsherr, aka Magneto (Michael Fassbender), is out for the blood of Kevin Bacon’s pantomime scoundrel Sebastian Shaw, the energy-sapping mutant Nazi who executed Erik’s mother. Meanwhile, in the cosy real-ale pubs of Oxford, fledgling genetics professor Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) has been roped-in by the CIA to use his telepathic powers to locate Shaw. What follows is a jolly collection of snappy montages, FX setpieces, a killer fanboy cameo and a torrent of disposable wisecracks that, while functioning perfectly as stand-alone episodes, fail to cohere.
McAvoy plays Xavier as a raffish boffin and his charming performance is one of the film’s high points. Fassbender, too, is on teeth-clenching powerhouse mode, until his accent dies a death on the home stretch. Jennifer Lawrence is less convincing as shapely shape-shifter Mystique, the torch-bearer for the film’s obligatory investigation into issues of identity and who dubiously adapts the black power slogan into ‘I’m a mutant and proud’. As with the previous ‘X-Men’ films, the many mutants look like they serve no purpose other than to be pretty punching bags for the film’s climactic scuffle. You wish as much time was spent on drawing together the disperate elements and devising a ripping yarn than was spent concocting the shiver-inducing final death scene, which – props to Vaughn – really is one for the ages.