Four stars. Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity, sci-fi action violence, bloody images, suggestive content, partial nudity and fleeting profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.30.18
Pop-culture junkies will love
this one.
I haven’t had so much fun with an
iconic characters mash-up since Daffy Duck met Donald Duck, in 1988’s Who Framed Roger Rabbit?
While there’s no question that Ready Player One will resonate most with
avid video gamers — and folks whose homes are clustered with artifacts from the
1980s — this exuberant sci-fi/fantasy certainly is approachable to mainstream
viewers. It’s brash, boisterous and breathtaking by turns, and augmented at all
times by the cinematic sense of wonder that Steven Spielberg has brought to his
films since, well, seems like forever. (And aren’t we lucky?)
That said, the narrative —
co-scripted by Zak Penn and Ernest Cline, from the latter’s popular 2011 novel
— relies more on momentum than plot logic and common sense. Viewers are likely
to exit the theater with plenty of questions that begin with the phrase “But
what about...?” Even so, it’s not entirely soulless eye-candy; a strong
cautionary note beats at the heart of this fast-paced thrill ride.
One hopes that civilization won’t
come to this ... although I also whispered that fervent prayer after seeing 1982’s
Blade Runner the first time. And just
as that film has proven prophetic in a variety of disturbing ways, there’s enough
current self-indulgent behavior to suggest that the message illuminated by Ready Player One should be taken very seriously.
The year is 2045, and our young
hero — Wade Watts, played by Tye Sheridan — lives in “the Stacks”: a rundown
vertical trailer park in Columbus, Ohio. (High fives to production designer
Adam Stockhausen, for this terrifying vision of the near future’s life on the
edge.) He shares this tight space with his grouchy aunt and her nasty, loser
boyfriend; unemployment, poverty, overcrowding and utter hopelessness are
rampant.
The U.S. government apparently
has abandoned any pretense of environmental mitigation, human rights, corporate
restraint or beneficial socio-political oversight; “outlying” cities such as
Columbus have simply become huge trash heaps of discarded vehicles and other
manufacturing refuse. The (rather too vague) impression is that the country has
been split between the lucky 5 percent in the tech sector ... and everybody
else.
In other words, life in the real
world ain’t too good.
Whenever possible, then, Wade
dons goggle, fires up a computer and “escapes” into a massive virtual reality
universe known as the OASIS, where as his avatar, Parzival, he can go anywhere,
do anything, and even change his very appearance at will. OASIS is a
shared-universe experience, and he has made several friends ... which is to
say, he has bonded with other avatars.
He therefore has no idea who the
towering Aech might be in real life; in OASIS, he’s part human, part machine,
and gifted with the ability to build or fix just about anything. One corner of
his massive shop is devoted to the construction of no less than the Iron Giant,
star of the under-appreciated 1999 film of the same title (whose director, Brad
Bird, must be giggling with delight right about now).
(We can pause to wonder why one
would need a mechanic, in a virtual
reality realm where anything can be fabricated by one’s mind, but that’s the
sort of issue that simply must be ignored.)
Although we don’t meet them right
away, Wade/Parzival also has befriended Daito, a powerful Japanese Samurai
warrior; and Sho, a skilled ninja fighter.
We pause for a bit of back-story,
inserted painlessly during the first act:
OASIS was the brainchild of the
brilliant but eccentric James Halliday (Mark Rylance), who with his partner
Ogden Morrow (Simon Pegg) founded a company — Gregarious Games — in order to
market their creation to the masses. But as OASIS became so popular that it
began to consume all waking moments of so many users, Halliday grew
uncomfortable and, ultimately, estranged from Morrow.
(Any resemblance to Steve Jobs,
Steve Wozniak and Apple is purely intentional.)
Halliday retreated from public
life, then died without heirs. In characteristic fashion, he left a farewell message
explaining that OASIS had been salted with three cleverly concealed challenges,
the solution of each rewarding the user with a key; the first person to obtain
all three keys then would obtain the realm’s “Easter egg,” thereby inheriting
Halliday’s vast fortune and full ownership of OASIS.
In other words, a future to hope
for.
But that was years ago.
Wade/Parzival, his comrades and millions of other people have combed the many
OASIS realms ever since, and not even the first key has been found. The sole
obvious entry point is a crazed, obstacle-laden vehicular race that nobody has
been able to win, thanks to the repeated interference of a cranky King Kong.
(We also can wonder, right about
now, how anybody in this premise’s real world ever gets anything done — work, meals, sleep, procreation — if they’re always
tripping out in OASIS, as clearly shown on numerous occasions. Another pesky
detail.)
Everything changes when
Wade/Parzival encounters Art3mis, a bewitching female avatar with wicked
motorcycle skills. Suddenly clumsy and tongue-tied, in the manner of all young
guys experiencing their first crush, Wade yearns to meet his new companion in
the real world. Minor spoiler: They do, and she turns out to be Samantha
(Olivia Cooke), a passionate young woman who ... well, that would be telling too much.
They collaboratively begin to
penetrate the mysteries Halliday left behind, at which point they become the
targets of the smarmy Nolan Sorrento (Ben Mendelsohn, appropriately
condescending), head of the world’s second-largest
corporation, Innovative Online Industries (IOI). They produce all the way-cool
gear that enlivens the OASIS experience, and Sorrento has trained thousands of
willing VR “soldiers” in an effort to win Halliday’s contest, and take control
of OASIS.
Until now, Sorrento hasn’t worried
about all the “little gamers” also vying for the prize. But Parzival and
Art3mis? They’re a problem that calls for an ultimate solution in both the VR
realm — where they’re stalked by a humorously stoic and over-weaponed bounty
hunter dubbed i-R0k (great voice performance by T.J. Miller) — and the real
world, where IOI head of security F’Nale Zandor (Hannah John-Kamen) is
determined to figure out who they actually are.
Cue all sorts of increasingly
wild ’n’ wacky action scenes that — thanks to the retro sensibilities that Wade
has embraced, after having studied Halliday for so long — increasingly
reference everything from Saturday Night
Fever to a hilariously extended sequence in the Overlook Hotel, lovingly
re-created from Stanley Kubrick’s handling of Stephen King’s The Shining ... complete with scary
little twins and the contents of Room 237.
Not to mention the fact that once
this film hits home video, it’ll be a stop-frame delight, as obsessive viewers
scrutinize every crowd scene for the likes of Hello Kitty, Batman, Marvin the
Martian and far more than I could clock during Monday evening’s wildly popular
preview screening.
Occasional heartwarming moments
aside, for the most part this film can’t help being style over substance; it’s
therefore difficult to discuss most of the stars in terms of acting chops.
Sheridan and Cooke are good together: They make a cute couple, and they’re as
believably intelligent and resourceful as a given scene (no how crazed)
demands. Mendelsohn is quite successful as the Bad Guy We Love To Hate.
Rylance stands out, as he always
does, as the flustered, distracted and maddeningly eccentric Halliday; I love
the way he often pauses before speaking, as if trying to remember how to move
the proper muscles. Somebody — aggravatingly, no credit is given — also has a
lot fun voicing the imperious Curator, who oversees access to the archival,
three-dimensional dioramas that catalog Halliday’s entire life.
Spielberg and editors Sarah
Broshar and Michael Kahn maintain a furious pace, but this can’t conceal the
fact that — at 140 self-indulgent minutes — their film is at least half an hour
too long. The OASIS novelties and pop-cultural winks and nods wear thin by the
third act; as a result, the all-important resolution is oddly anti-climactic.
But there’s no denying, as we
continue to read about self-absorbed Smart phone users who kill themselves by
obliviously stepping in front of moving traffic, that this story’s underlying
warning cannot — should not, dare not
— be ignored.
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