It’s rather odd to be watching a movie called Antwone Fisher, co-produced by someone called Antwone Fisher, written by someone called Antwone Fisher and indeed ”inspired by” the life of one Antwone Fisher.Immediately one starts wondering how true this true story is. Does ”inspired by” mean that Antwone Fisher the scriptwriter has departed significantly from the facts of the life of Antwone Fisher? Certainly, the story has all the neat script points in place, and its trudge from abuse to victorious healing is an extremely obvious trajectory. The heart-warming speeches given at certain points near the end are just too heart-warming; does anyone really say things quite so eloquently in moments of psychological stress? Maybe, maybe not. But I suppose if anyone has the right to create a movie ”inspired by” the life of Antwone Fisher it is Antwone Fisher.And, in fact, it’s not nearly as bad as it sounds. It’s even inspiring. As Denzel Washington’s directorial debut, it seems chosen especially by that actor, deeply aware of his status as a black leading man and filmmaker, to make a point. It’s a movie about a black man from a seriously deprived background being helped by another black man (and the love of a good black woman) to overcome the legacy of that tortured history, which includes what the film calls a ”slave mentality”. Of course it’s nothing Oprah couldn’t have dispensed with in half an hour (and probably did), but Washington and Fisher’s movie is by no means a self-indulgent disgrace.Antwone Fisher (Derek Luke) is a young sailor who is sent to a navy psychiatrist (Washington) because of his uncontrollably violent rages. The shrink gently but firmly uncovers his abusive childhood and helps him on the road to self-healing. That’s about it, and one suppresses a shudder at all that upliftment, but the truth is that it works. The pace is thoughtful, and inevitably the movie is too long, but it holds the attention and gets one emotionally involved. Washington gives a fine, reserved performance, and the hitherto unknown Luke gives the role his all — it is perhaps down to him, more than anything else, that one comes to care about Antwone Fisher.Having said the above about a movie that clearly has its heart in the right place, and wears its morals proudly on its well-tailored sleeve, it is rather embarrassing to admit that in terms of pure visceral enjoyment I have to give higher points to an amoral horror flick called Final Destination II. The first Final Destination was a demonically ingenious thriller, a version of the teen-slasher movie, in which a young man foresees a terrible plane crash and drags himself and some of his friends off the plane just before it goes up in flames. But Death will not be cheated, and he/she/it starts picking off the survivors one by one. Final Destination II is pretty much the same movie, with only one person left from the previous cast. This time it’s a horrific highway pile-up that is foreseen and avoided, only for the survivors to discover that Death is sticking to the original agenda.Final Destination II obviously lacks the freshness (if that’s the right word) and surprise offered by its, er, predecessor. But it’s still a lot of fun — fun that makes one feel slightly guilty. Because, after all, this is about people dying in dreadful and ever more bizarre ways. It’s not a deep and meaningful movie in any way, unless one’s going to start having theories about such narratives helping us deal with death, which perhaps it does. But that doesn’t explain why it’s so exhilarating, even hilarious. Perhaps I need a few therapy sessions with Denzel Washington.