Nicolas Cage is an anomaly.  After displaying nothing short of brilliance in gems like The Coens’ “Raising Arizona” and the Charlie Kauffman/Spike Jonze masterwork, “Adaptation,” this oddity of an actor scoffs at the commoner’s pretenses of determined probability with abominations like “Ghost Rider” and “Bangkok Dangerous.”  Cage’s is a career of extremes.  A body of work defined by such inconsistencies doesn’t have room for mediocrity.  Where then does “Knowing” fit into Mr. Cage’s bi-categorical pantheon of genius or failure?  This is where things get interesting.

Alex Proyas, the talented director of 1998′s stylish, sci-fi-noir thriller, “Dark City,” helms the project in fascinating fashion.  Thanks to its counter-productive marketing campaign I found myself surprised when matters deeper than physical destruction and mayhem were explored.  Questions about the nature of the universe, and the reasons–if there be any–for our existence are raised early on in what I expected to be another low-brow, Nic Cage clunker.  Instead, “Knowing” steadily and deliberately presents fiercely debated issues of chance, reason, intelligent design, and predestination.

Cage plays John Koestler, an astrophysics professor at MIT who, since the tragic loss of his wife, is struggling with the cosmic mysteries of determinism and randomness.  Is every aspect of the future of the universe, even down to the atomic level, predetermined?  The very fact that technology exists lends itself to this theory, for without specific, constant, reliable, universally governing laws of physics any instance of progress would immediately collapse without a concrete structure on which to develop.  But, those familiar with quantum mechanics and contemporary physical theory might argue that the universe’s governing laws are only the framework of existence and that chance and probability are the stems that rule specific actions.  So, the question remains–if you have a comprehensive understanding of the laws of physics, can you infallibly predict everything that will ever happen?  Or, do you see things as the jaded Koestler and believe that, “Sh** just happens”?

By now you must be thinking that I have placed this movie in the “genius” category of Cage’s film catalog.  I haven’t, but I won’t be throwing it in with the failures either.

The premise that gives cause for the film’s philosophical ruminations centers around a time capsule buried in 1959.  A grade school teacher asks her students to draw pictures of what they imagine the world will look like in 50 years.  Most draw flying cars or rocket ships.  A mysterious girl named Lucinda (Rose Byrne) furiously scribbles endless rows of numbers as if possessed.  The papers are collected, placed in the capsule and the film cuts to present day.  The time capsule is unearthed, and Lucinda’s scribbles wind up in the hands of Koestler’s son Caleb (Chandler Canterbury).  Randomly, or by determinism–you decide–Koestler discovers a pattern in the numbers that accurately describes the date, location, and number of casualties in every major disaster from 1959 to the present day, including three catastrophes yet to occur which he attempts to prevent.

What’s so fascinating about this film is that the events that follow generally reflect the inconsistencies of Cage’s career.  He’s so refined the art of cinematical disparity of merit that he can accomplish this in a single film now as opposed to creating an entirely awful or brilliant movie.  There are moments that stimulate and challenge us.  Then, there are moments that Uwe Boll would be loathe to include in a film.  The result is a first for a Nicolas Cage film.  Mediocrity.

(3 out of 5)