Entertainment

Look out — below par

Won’t somebody please cast Aussie actor Sam Worthington as an Australian, for a change? It’s the role he was born to play. As a disgraced former NYPD officer in this unconvincing and incoherent thriller, his accent wavered as frequently as my attention.

We begin as Worthington’s business-attired Nick Cassidy checks into Midtown’s Roosevelt Hotel and heads up to the 21st floor for a suite with a splendid view. After a breakfast of Champagne and lobster, he pens a note, opens a window and climbs out, because — well, you’ve seen the title.

What’s his story? Flash back to his incarceration a month ago in Sing Sing, where this whole mess began.

PHOTOS: “MAN ON A LEDGE” FILMING IN NY

And I do mean mess. What follows is a jumble of cop- and heist-movie clichés, dotted with appearances by actors you liked in something else: Anthony Mackie as Nick’s friend and former partner, Elizabeth Banks as the brooding NYPD negotiator, Ed Harris as Mr. Burns of “The Simpsons” incarnate.

It seems Nick has been framed, and his ledge-based stance is a desperate last shot at clearing his name. While a crowd gathers below and a seasoned detective (Ed Burns) cracks wise about sending this guy to the nuthouse, the pacing Nick demands the presence of Lydia Mercer (Banks), whose last assignment, to talk down a suicidal cop on the Brooklyn Bridge, didn’t end so well.

Meanwhile, director Asger Leth (“Ghosts of Cité Soleil”) sends Nick’s brother Joey (Jamie Bell) and his foxy girlfriend Angie (Genesis Rodriguez) on a “Mission: Impossible”-type stunt, then immediately undermines it by making Rodriguez’s cleavage the focal point of the mission. (I’m pretty sure even Ethan Hunt would advise a comely companion against using Victoria’s Secret garb as spywear.)

Why are Angie’s boobs breaking into the building? Not to spoil it, but it’s the lynchpin of Nick’s defense — and yet another overused cinematic device.

The movie’s at its best when cutting back and forth between Nick and Joey, as Nick tries to converse with Lydia in lines of conversation that double as instructions into the earpiece he’s wearing to communicate with his brother.

But Worthington must carry the bulk of the film alone, and he’s not quite up to the task. He’s an actor who does the stoic tough-guy thing terrifically — even in duds like “Clash of the Titans” — but telegraphing emotions isn’t really his strong suit. Stranding him on a foot of concrete where he can’t get into even one fistfight seems like a waste of a good paycheck.

The only person who seems to get the nongravity of the situation is Kyra Sedgwick as local newscaster Suzie Morales, emphasis on the trilled “r.” She doggedly interviews people in the mob on Madison Avenue, where those who aren’t baying for Nick to take the plunge are proclaiming him a working-class hero.

But my favorite was the elderly woman crankily shoving her way through the chaos: “Anybody who creates traffic like this in Midtown,” she says, rightly, “should be shot.”