I walked out of The Finest Hours, the latest sea-edged adventure with a blend of CGI induced mockery, with a sense of “that was how it should have been”. It’s the type of movie that won’t defy any or all expectations, but will qualify to meet your moviegoing criteria. The Finest Hours is complete with a very nostalgia inspired love story between our hero Bernie Webster (Chris Pine) who is a very dapper/shy by-the procedure Coastie who get’s torn away from his fiancee (Holliday Grainger) when an huge kerplunk wave slices through a full sized oil tanker like butter. But, Webster is just the man for the job, with his brigade of proud Americans as if they were taken right out of those cheesy “We Want You” army commercials for the 40s and 50s. What ensures is a mildly thrilling two and half hours that is as predictable and fragile as the movie tries to sells. Directed By Craig Gillespie (who also directed the low-brow feel-good baseball flick Million Dollar Arm) decides to damper our star studded cast (Ben Foster and Casey Affleck among them) in about thirty gallons of water. So much so, some of the cast becomes fairly inaudible at points in the film, (the same does not go for Casey Affleck’s character, as I feel he was mumbling regardless). I also felt the cause and effect of some of these hellish scenarios (like the finale or the ship sinking like it did) happened too quickly for the audience to even process. I guess the thing to take away is that Disney knows how to capture the essence of a love story, and create a very engaging third act rescue, but when it tries to settle the reigns, the title at that point should be changed to The Longest Two Hours With No Believability Of Danger. C