(I) Can Christians ever look at the Last Supper again without a frisson of anticipation? Will the Louvre reveal its ultimate secret — the vault in Lincoln’s Inn, where the Knights Templar hid the chalice of Childeric III, the last of the Merovingian dynasty, before it was stolen by priestly enemies of Granville Hedrick, the Mormon dissident, and used as a totemic initiation cup in Masonic rituals? Only a film with the power, magic and magnificence of The Da Vinci Code can open our eyes to cults, enigmas and semiotics that for 2,000 years have distorted the Christian message. Only Dan Brown and Tom Hanks could dazzle the screen . . .

(II) Lukewarm pap is too polite — such a travesty of the Christian message wrapped in the mumbo-jumbo of Merovingian kings and Renaissance symbolism. This film is no more than a spaghetti western set in the 14th cen-tury, a coded cacophony of cardboard characters with bad haircuts and pseudo-historical names, a concoction of anagrams and Grail legends that would disgrace a Monty Python farce. Only Dan Brown and Tom Hanks could plumb such populist depths . . .

(III) On the one hand, these performances are, perhaps, good and bad in equal measure. On the other hand, we have an interesting story that has captured a certain Zeitgeist; and on a further hand, we have a somewhat con- voluted depiction of the Opus Dei philosophy that does not always accord with historical principles or the credibility of its practitioners. One is minded to congratulate Mr Hanks for his robust characterisation and Ms Tautou for her comely support. But one is also minded to note the shortcomings of the acting, which is, in parts, good and . . .