Standing in some unnamed war zone amidst a carpet of spent bullet cartridges Nicolas Cage stares triumphantly at the audience and utters these words:

"There are over 550 million firearms in worldwide circulation. That's one firearm for every twelve people on the planet. The only question is: How do we arm the other 11?"

Crystallised within this short opening speech is the very essence of the two hours of superior filmmaking to come.

It’s a flag-waving anti-arms tale told from a point of view that is anything but.

If this were the crappy TV movie that the film’s regrettable title infers – its actually a misunderstanding of the term warlord – at some point the protagonist’s family would be endangered by a psycho maniacally wielding one of Cage’s own guns.

But thankfully there are no harsh lessons learned about the dangers of the uncontrolled proliferation of illegal firearms and similarly there are no easy answers provided.

Nicolas Cage became a movie star by effortlessly combining the archetypal everyman and modern anti-hero. Some might argue that he’s been doing it ever since. But in Lord of War gone are the familiar tics, the stutters, the wide-eyed scenery chewing.

What we actually get is a carefully layered character that is at the same time cold yet terrified, determined yet loving, singularly focussed yet completely lost and most of this – to Cage’s credit – is infused with the kind of blank amorality that the part demands.

With 10 more projects in various stages of production it seems as though it’ll be easier to talk about which films Nicolas Cage doesn’t star in over the next couple of years.

It would be a crying shame if this performance gets forgotten in a deluge of comic book heroes, pagan-baiting lawmen and intrepid treasure hunters.

Tim Postins