John Preston (Bale) is a top Grammaton cleric in the post-World War III dystopia of Libria, an enforcer with stupendous martial art skills detailed to search out refuseniks and rebels who haven't been taking their daily dose of emotion suppressing Prozium. Art and literature are no-nos in Libria, of course, so when Preston catches partner Partridge (Bean) with his nose in the poetry of WB Yeats, he knows Partridge will face the same fate as Preston's wife: elimination for Sense Offences. But the seeds of doubt are sown. Preston secretly pockets the book and, interviewing unrepentant offender Mary O'Brien (Watson), feels his own equilibrium waver. Will new partner Brandt (Diggs) intuit his possible defection? Wimmer's debut is a Matrix wannabe. It sports the requisite metallic techno sheen, with cameraman Dion Beebe ably blending Berlin locations with monumental totalitarian gothic CGI set design. But Bale is too self-conscious an action hero, and although the script may have the virtue of transparent plagiarism, it teeters both dramatically and conceptually.