Remakes, it seems, present a particular set of problems for critics of all stripes that other films (and songs, and other media) do not pose. They are perilous endeavors, really, in that they give a legion of purists (and pseudo-purists born decades after the source materials) who are itching to hate them for not living up to the gold standard standards of originals since romanticized into classic status. It’s just a mild variant on the book-was-better argument that’s meant more to show off the learning of the reviewer than say anything about the movie itself. You can’t, as every effort from recent horror remakes through Bond updates shows, make the purists happy, as being unhappy with any remake is to them both moral obligation and badge of intellectual honor, even if the original is itself, say, a campy 1950s sci-fi film that itself was probably criticized as brainless eye candy in its own day. That said, we shall take The Day the Earth Stood Still on its own merits, and not those of its earlier namesake, which, besides, I haven’t bothered to see. And really, it’s not all that bad.
First, the story in brief: TDTESS revolves around the appearance of the usual omnipotent extraterrestrials coming to Earth in invincible glowing orbs, who send a herald in the form of a cloned human named Klaatu (Keanu Reeves) defended by an equally impervious giant robot regrettably assigned the acronym GORT. After being wounded upon arrival in Central Park and hospitalized by an otherwise defenseless U.S. military, Klaatu demands to speak to an assembly of world leaders, but is instead examined by a team of coerced scientists including astrobiologist Dr. Helen Benson (Jennifer Connelly). He escapes and meets with Benson and her emotionally troubled stepson Jacob (Jaden Smith) to reveal that all humans are in the process of being judged by a consortium of alien races for their poor environmental stewardship of the planet (an apparent update from the rampant militarism we were given low marks for in the original), and high drama ensues.
The straightforward plot is a serviceable enough vehicle to ask an important question: if there were a purely material, rational judge of human behavior, what might it/they determine about humanity’s future as a sustainable presence on the planet? The casting of Reeves in the role of that judge is undeniably shrewd: his characteristically stilted delivery of lines and inability to believably emote is here, perhaps for the first time on his career, productively exploited—he’s an alien new to human form and custom; he’s supposed to be awkward and emotionally inarticulate. Taking the odd detachment of his screen presence and using it thus is pure lemons-into-lemonade. Connelly is less believable as a top scientist, but her mix of wide-eyed astonishment and determination in the face of horror, if narrow on range, seems at least generally appropriate to the circumstances.
But back to the question: if aliens were looking at the Earth as a biological laboratory/experiment, unspeakably grand in scope and duration, would humans deserve to be removed for messing up the proceedings? The problem that we face in examining the answer is, of course, one of powerful selection bias: it’s the humans making the case for themselves and writing up the lab report, putting the judgment in the mouths of fictional aliens. Since neither space aliens nor nihilists tend to write these movies, the answer, here delivered by screenwriter David Scarpa, presents an argument that might be seen as a wee smidgen leaning toward the case for non-annihilation. That’s a forgivable enough position, I suppose, and probably a fair one, given the fact that the movie presents the case for the defense as a difficult one even for the most educated humans (one a Nobel laureate in an entertaining cameo by John Cleese) to fully endorse without falling back on sheer pleas for clemency. It’s a far cry from the moral certitude that embodies most films about war, even war with alien interlopers, however ridiculous the scenario might be; the script here at least entertains the possibility that the aliens just might have a point.
Is the film ultimately up for a detailed examination of the moral question it presents? Well of course not. It’s a commercial film, after all, designed to be seen in a theater and make back a studio investment. It commits all the usual Hollywood movie-by-numbers sins: everyone is too young and pretty for their jobs, military figures (headed by U.S. Defense Secretary Regina Jackson, an unenthused Kathy Bates) are cardboard mouthpieces for stupidity and aggression, and the finale has to be visually spectacular enough in scope to appeal to those wanting to see a disaster film. But in attempting to serve these two masters, or please everyone, or whatever expression you like, the film seems to truly please no one. With an occasionally conscientious focus on cost and consequence, it’s too smart and slowly paced to be a throwaway smash-‘em-up; too relatively low-budget and seen-that (the CGI effects storm toward the end is none-too-different from either the most recent X-Men or Indiana Jones installments) to be current as disaster gruel; too brief and lightly written to be a drama about the potential moral and ecological priorities of civilizations more advanced than ours. It rises above other, purely visceral, alien invasion movies like Independence Day by virtue of at least trying to say something about how a higher intelligence might engage us, yet not even so far as a mediocre space exploration film like Contact regarding the same question. It has moments, to be sure, but is too undercooked either to succeed as spectacle or speculation. But nevertheless it tries, and in a few, fleeting instances, almost succeeds, at making a film that tackles some hard subject matter that is still more relevant now than 50 years ago, and even hints at hard answers, eschewing the usual feel-goodism that pervades most conclusions of this type. And if it can do that, and blow up a few things and make a few bucks in the process, I say it gets a pass. Since the visual effects are, however, somewhat underwhelming, it might better make for an afternoon diversion on video.
First, the story in brief: TDTESS revolves around the appearance of the usual omnipotent extraterrestrials coming to Earth in invincible glowing orbs, who send a herald in the form of a cloned human named Klaatu (Keanu Reeves) defended by an equally impervious giant robot regrettably assigned the acronym GORT. After being wounded upon arrival in Central Park and hospitalized by an otherwise defenseless U.S. military, Klaatu demands to speak to an assembly of world leaders, but is instead examined by a team of coerced scientists including astrobiologist Dr. Helen Benson (Jennifer Connelly). He escapes and meets with Benson and her emotionally troubled stepson Jacob (Jaden Smith) to reveal that all humans are in the process of being judged by a consortium of alien races for their poor environmental stewardship of the planet (an apparent update from the rampant militarism we were given low marks for in the original), and high drama ensues.
The straightforward plot is a serviceable enough vehicle to ask an important question: if there were a purely material, rational judge of human behavior, what might it/they determine about humanity’s future as a sustainable presence on the planet? The casting of Reeves in the role of that judge is undeniably shrewd: his characteristically stilted delivery of lines and inability to believably emote is here, perhaps for the first time on his career, productively exploited—he’s an alien new to human form and custom; he’s supposed to be awkward and emotionally inarticulate. Taking the odd detachment of his screen presence and using it thus is pure lemons-into-lemonade. Connelly is less believable as a top scientist, but her mix of wide-eyed astonishment and determination in the face of horror, if narrow on range, seems at least generally appropriate to the circumstances.
But back to the question: if aliens were looking at the Earth as a biological laboratory/experiment, unspeakably grand in scope and duration, would humans deserve to be removed for messing up the proceedings? The problem that we face in examining the answer is, of course, one of powerful selection bias: it’s the humans making the case for themselves and writing up the lab report, putting the judgment in the mouths of fictional aliens. Since neither space aliens nor nihilists tend to write these movies, the answer, here delivered by screenwriter David Scarpa, presents an argument that might be seen as a wee smidgen leaning toward the case for non-annihilation. That’s a forgivable enough position, I suppose, and probably a fair one, given the fact that the movie presents the case for the defense as a difficult one even for the most educated humans (one a Nobel laureate in an entertaining cameo by John Cleese) to fully endorse without falling back on sheer pleas for clemency. It’s a far cry from the moral certitude that embodies most films about war, even war with alien interlopers, however ridiculous the scenario might be; the script here at least entertains the possibility that the aliens just might have a point.
Is the film ultimately up for a detailed examination of the moral question it presents? Well of course not. It’s a commercial film, after all, designed to be seen in a theater and make back a studio investment. It commits all the usual Hollywood movie-by-numbers sins: everyone is too young and pretty for their jobs, military figures (headed by U.S. Defense Secretary Regina Jackson, an unenthused Kathy Bates) are cardboard mouthpieces for stupidity and aggression, and the finale has to be visually spectacular enough in scope to appeal to those wanting to see a disaster film. But in attempting to serve these two masters, or please everyone, or whatever expression you like, the film seems to truly please no one. With an occasionally conscientious focus on cost and consequence, it’s too smart and slowly paced to be a throwaway smash-‘em-up; too relatively low-budget and seen-that (the CGI effects storm toward the end is none-too-different from either the most recent X-Men or Indiana Jones installments) to be current as disaster gruel; too brief and lightly written to be a drama about the potential moral and ecological priorities of civilizations more advanced than ours. It rises above other, purely visceral, alien invasion movies like Independence Day by virtue of at least trying to say something about how a higher intelligence might engage us, yet not even so far as a mediocre space exploration film like Contact regarding the same question. It has moments, to be sure, but is too undercooked either to succeed as spectacle or speculation. But nevertheless it tries, and in a few, fleeting instances, almost succeeds, at making a film that tackles some hard subject matter that is still more relevant now than 50 years ago, and even hints at hard answers, eschewing the usual feel-goodism that pervades most conclusions of this type. And if it can do that, and blow up a few things and make a few bucks in the process, I say it gets a pass. Since the visual effects are, however, somewhat underwhelming, it might better make for an afternoon diversion on video.
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2 comments:
Labyrinth. It was all down hill for Jen after that.
Evidently an ambitious exercise...
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