2.5 stars. Rating: PG-13, for constant and intense violence, brief profanity and some drug use
By Derrick Bang
The general rule is fundamental:
A remake should surpass or, at the very least, equal its predecessor in all
essential respects.
Otherwise, what’s the point?
Director José Padilha’s update of
Robocop seems motivated more by the
smell of money — Sony Pictures’ desire to revive an iconic character, in the
hopes of creating a fresh franchise — than any artistic imperative. And while
this film’s primary fault lies more with first-time writer Joshua Zetumer’s
sloppy script than Padilha’s direction, the result is inescapable: This new Robocop doesn’t come close to matching
Paul Verhoeven’s 1987 original for verve, suspense or clever political satire.
Indeed, Zetumer’s vicious,
hammer-handed swipes at “heartless American imperialism” are this film’s least
successful element: shrill, über-liberal bleats that keep getting in the way of
what should be, at its core, a thoughtful parable on the nature of humanity.
Granted, this sci-fi drama’s political subtext invites debate, but Zetumer
stacks the deck laughably, most visibly in the form of Samuel L. Jackson’s Pat
Novak, a foaming-at-the-mouth, right-wing TV provocateur in the mold of Rush
Limbaugh and Ann Coulter.
Jackson’s Novak also is the first
defense of a poor screenwriter: a hackneyed device who pops up every so often,
to “instruct” or “remind” us poor viewers precisely how we’re supposed to react
to on-screen events. Which suggests that Zetumer and Padilha don’t have much
faith in their audience.
And I sure can’t figure out why
they choose to conclude their film with yet another rant from Novak: a clumsy
coda that makes little sense and does nothing but dilute the story’s mildly
satisfying outcome.
People don’t like to be yelled
at. Not in person, and certainly not at the movies.
All that aside...
The year is 2028. Uneasy military
stability is maintained in Afghanistan and other terrorist-laden hot spots by
the ground-level U.S. presence of EM-208 robot soldiers and larger, hyper-aggressive
ED-209 sentry units. The primary goal, to avoid the loss of American lives,
appears to have been achieved.
Even here, though — mere minutes
into the film — Zetumer’s script introduces details that remain unresolved.
Local civilians obviously resent and fear being stopped and scanned every few
feet by these robotic “peacekeepers,” and several rebellious types orchestrate
a very public “statement” for the courtesy of visiting TV reporters: a gesture
obviously intended to inflame world opinion, but a detail that just gets
dropped as events move back to the States, and specifically Detroit.
Indeed, “world opinion” simply
doesn’t exist in Zetumer’s scenario. Neither does the rest of the world.
(Consider the trouble we’re already in, concerning the use of “mere” drones,
and ask yourself if the global body would tolerate the unrestrained deployment
of American killer robots. It might have been nice if Zetumer had at least tried to work his way around that little
detail.)
Anyway, back in States, OmniCorp
— the global leader in robot technology — is chafing over its inability to
penetrate the domestic market, because of due process and culpability concerns
raised by bleeding-heart leftie Sen. Hubert Dreyfuss (Zach Grenier). OmniCorp
CEO Raymond Sellars (Michael Keaton), disgusted by the ongoing loss of such a
potentially huge revenue stream, demands an innovative solution.
If Americans fear soulless
robots, he reasons, then what OmniCorp needs is a suitably heroic blend of man
and machine.
Elsewhere, Detroit cop Alex
Murphy (Joel Kinnaman) and his partner, Jack Lewis (Michael K. Williams), have
become too aggressive in their pursuit of crime baron Antoine Vallon (Patrick
Garrow). Wanting to dispose of this nuisance, Vallon orchestrates a
catastrophic “accident” that leaves very little of Murphy behind.
Our hero awakens in an impressive
lab supervised by Dr. Dennett Norton (Gary Oldman), who — with the reluctant,
desperate blessing of Alex’s wife, Clara (Abbie Cornish) — has preserved what’s
left of Alex in a robotic framework.
Production designer Martin
Whist’s work here is excellent, as are the contributions from Legacy Effects —
who created Robert Downey Jr.’s Iron Man suit — and visual effects supervisor
James E. Price. The “reveal,” when Alex finally sees what little remains of his
actual self, is both fascinating and horrifying.
No surprise, then, that Alex
nearly yields to despair. This narrative element is handled quite well, most
particularly with respect to the growing relationship between Alex and Dr.
Norton. The latter argues in favor of the greater good; Alex grudgingly
embraces his responsibility as a test subject. The drama remains compelling as
long as the plot focuses on what it means to be human, and the degree to which
Alex struggles to retain his soul.
It’s an intriguing moral and
philosophical clash, because although the public does embrace Alex as a sort of superhero cop, Sellars isn’t
satisfied with the all-too-human hesitations that still cloud this cyborg’s
response times, as compared to purely mechanical alternatives. The OmniCorp CEO
therefore orders ... adjustments. And therein lies what should be the meat of
the drama.
Unfortunately, Zetumer can’t even
maintain his own narrative consistency. Much is made, early on, of Alex’s
vulnerability to high-caliber weaponry; despite this, in the grand traditional
of countless other laughably silly action flicks, our hero is blasted
repeatedly by such punishing ordnance, and yet — like a Timex watch — just
keeps on ticking.
This becomes particularly
ridiculous twice: first during a ludicrous melee staged like a
first-person-shooter video game — meaning, with absolutely no dramatic impact —
and later when Alex orchestrates a we’ve-been-waiting-for-it skirmish with not
one, not two, but an entire gaggle of ED-209s. At which point, we can only
throw up our hands and acknowledge that Alex is immortal. Simply because the
script wants it that way.
Kinnaman, a Swedish actor best
known as an ongoing co-star in his country’s Johan Falk police thrillers, is the weakest actor in this film, and
therefore the least interesting character: a rather fatal flaw, since he’s the
hero. He shares zero chemistry with Cornish, and Padilha — perhaps wisely —
doesn’t linger long on the token intimate scene intended to establish the
necessary husband/wife devotion.
Keaton’s scheming, Machiavellian
Sellars is far more engaging, the actor making excellent use of his Satanic
eyebrows and deliciously ruthless principles. Oldman, delivering the same
intelligence and compassion that he brought as Commissioner Gordon in
Christopher Nolan’s Batman trilogy,
immediately wins our hearts and minds as a deeply conflicted scientist who
worries that ill-advised lines are being crossed.
Jackie Earle Haley is a hoot as
the attitude-laden Mattox, OmniCorp’s quality-control military specialist, who
dismissively regards Alex as a “tin man” unable to match the ruthless killing
efficiency of “pure” robots.
Jay Baruchel is similarly droll
as OmniCorp’s cold-blooded marketing toady, a bean-counter who prays solely at
the altar of quarterly profits; Jennifer Ehle is frighteningly chill as
OmniCorp’s heartless company lawyer. (We enthusiastically anticipate massive revenge/payback against both of
these well-played villains.)
Aimee Garcia, finally, makes the
most of her small role as Dr. Norton’s key tech associate.
Clearly, then, all the necessary
elements seem to be in place: a strong cast (Kinnaman aside), solid technical
credits and a premise that should generate plenty of narrative momentum. But
Zetumer’s numbnuts script keeps sabotaging his own story’s better elements, and
Padilha isn’t much of a director; Oldman, Keaton and the other actors bring
their own talents to the table, and obviously aren’t helped much by the guy in
charge.
I suspect, as well, that this
saga is further sabotaged by Sony’s desire to release it with a so-called
“family-friendly” PG-13 rating (rather laughable, given all the violence).
Verhoeven’s 1987 original is a much grittier R, which feels right; by toning
down the nastier details, Padilha and Zetumer have gelded the very elements
that made Robocop so intriguing.
No re-booted franchise here, I
hope.
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