It doesn’t leave us wanting to avoid the sequel at all costs. In the YA film canon, that should be considered a positive.

It’s a dull, deadening approach, the type that can probably only be truly appreciated by 15-year-old boys and serial killers.

While imitation can indeed be the sincerest form of flattery, that’s not the case when the results are as ham-fisted as those here.

It’s the sort of picture that one wishes were better, as the number of missed opportunities seemingly equals the number of unexploded landmines at the war’s close.

The previous Ryan exploits were meaty endeavors, with plenty to engage our senses and our smarts — sub commander Sean Connery, Harrison Ford and black-ops leader Willem Dafoe teaming up, weary CIA specialist Liev Schreiber — but the dull Shadow Recruit is distressingly bare.

The middle section of the movie is so riveting and feels so realistic that the final portion proves to be anticlimactic.