Rotten Tomatoes: 6% John Travolta should have learned by now that if anyone comes to him with a movie pitch that involves a ridiculous hair-piece that the result is going to be more of Battlefield Earth than Pulp Fiction. That lesson hasn't been learned yet, as The Forger sees Travolta - ironically - inauthentically misrepresenting himself as an art expert/criminal who looks like he's ten years out of a pretty good grunge band who had a couple of hits in 1993. It might seem cruel to focus so much on Travolta's look, but that's really the only noteworthy thing in this dull tale of the world's greatest forger, who gets out of prison to spend time with his son by offering a shady syndicate his services in forging a Monet, stealing the original and replacing it with his version. He gets his son and father to help, because nothing says "eternally caring family member" than getting two more generations of your family locked up as well. There was undoubtedly potential for some brainless enjoyment, but there is literally more life in Travolta's wig than in his performance.