There’s no magic to speak of in “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice.’’ I mean, there’s the stuff that happens when an effects crew works to provide the impression of magic. At least once, Nicolas Cage waves his arms and Alfred Molina goes flying across a bathroom (why do so many action sequences involve urinals?), and the Merrill Lynch bull statue stampedes around Wall Street. (Hey, who said “Jumanji’’?)
But a movie in which spells are cast is not the same as a movie that casts a spell. To be fair, the sight of Monica Bellucci swaying and chanting mumbo jumbo on a fountain near Battery Park is a little hypnotic. What’s she doing here? What, really, is this movie doing here? “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice ’’ is a flavorless family-friendly action-adventure that doubles as memory exploitation. It has nothing to do with either the Mickey Mouse broom sequence of the same name from 1940’s “Fantasia’’ or the 213-year-old Goethe poem that inspired it.