The common thread linking this year's summer blockbusters has been the cheery nonchalance with which they've obliterated cities and the innocent civilians who live in them, so it's refreshing to see The Wolverine, a relatively small-scale superhero film which prefers not to kill anyone except the bad guys – and they don't count.
Very loosely based on a beloved mini-series scripted by Chris Claremont and drawn by Frank Miller, it starts in the Canadian Rockies, where Logan (Hugh Jackman, more muscly than ever) is living rough, far away from his fellow X-Men, but haunted by dreams of his lost love, Jean Grey (Famke Janssen). He's then summoned to Japan by a man he last met at the end of the Second World War. Logan never ages, you see, but his Japanese acquaintance, now the decrepit boss of an Apple-rivalling corporation, claims that he can switch off Logan's immortality and let him live a normal, finite life. Alas, our hero doesn't have long to mull over the proposition before he has to defend the old man's granddaughter against an army of Yakuza gangsters.
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