How long have I been explaining that any would-be tentpole flick that includes a looking-down shot of the hero swan-diving off a tall building is automatically and irrevocably shit? And if you add shots of guys flying from building to building a la Crouching Tiger and/or jumping off a two-story building onto the street below the movie has dug itself into an even deeper hole. Justin Kurzel, director of Assassin’s Creed (20th Century Fox, 12.21), went there anyway. Because…you tell me. Because he’s an animal? Add Michael Fassbender to the mix and you’re talking serious toxicity. Sidenote: Poor Jeremy Irons has been doing paycheck work since the mid ’90s. His first shameless-prostitute gig was playing the creepy villain in Die Hard With A Vengeance (’95). His great big-screen run lasted about 12 years — The French Lieutenant’s Woman, Moonlighting, Betrayal, Swann in Love, Dead Ringers, Reversal of Fortune, Kafka, Damage, M. Butterfly, The House of the Spirits. In ’84 I saw Irons opposite Glenn Close in the first Broadway version of The Real Thing. He was the absolute king of the world back then.