Somewhat less entertaining is the fake-knowingness of the cliché dialogue, as when a piggish slave-buyer complains “You dragged me out of perfectly acceptable brothel for this,” ar ar ar. As much bloodletting as happens in this movie—and there’s quite a bit of it before the volcano action (presaged by a lot of building foundational cracks and such) gets underway—the movie is otherwise relentless in its wholesomeness. There’s more real depravity on the screen and in the soul of Cecil B. De Mille’s 1932 "The Sing of the Cross" than there is here.
However, the action scenes are choice, and once the clouds of ash and shooting fire and churning seas start up, "Pompeii" achieves a momentum that most sensationalist studio fare can’t touch. By the end of the movie one senses that Anderson and company were going for a little bit more, particularly in the, you know, profundity department. But the civilians sitting a row ahead of me just giggled at the movie’s final shot, because, well I guess you’ve heard the saying “I wouldn’t be caught dead like that.” Tough crowd!