This is a film of ideas... It's just that so many of them are bad ones Wally Pfister has been in the game since long ago, but not as a director. He's been Nolan's go-to cinematographer in every film since they first hooked up for Memento. So we know this guy can deliver some amazing shots but does he cut it taking on the director's chair orchestrating a high-caliber cast in the big-budget sci-fi thriller Transcendence? You might guess the pedigree, because it's a terrible movie
Some movies reel you in with dazzling dialogue and plots, some movies turn you upside down and tie your brain in knots, some movies overwhelm you and leave you speechless in mid-sentence – then there are those awful films with a wasted all-star cast – like Transcendence.
I first heard about it last year, it was too good to be true – the director was the guy who'd shot all those amazing Nolan films for the past decade. Surely he must have picked up some things?
When I first read the synopsis a year back, I thought it sounded very intriguing. I mean it had everything a sci-fi fan could ask, from its highfalutin title to its all-star genre cast. And to top it all of it had Johnny Depp! The actual acting version, not the dressing up and playing a "coo-coo" character guy. That fact alone sold me on this movie, I wanted to see it. And adding a little dose of Morgan Freeman couldn't hurt either.
So the day it finally came out, I bought tickets with trembling fingers, having isolated myself from any ratings or reviews so that I could give it my own honest and fair judgment without influence. Then I sat back and prepared ourselves for set-pieces and zingers. I watched it. I sat there. I looked around and said, "Wait, it's just about some asshole who gets sucked into the web?"
Look, I like Pfisters other work and he's proved an ideal collaborator for Nolan; together, in their Dark Knight films and the moody thrillers between them, they've cultivated a distinctive look that Transcendence often apes, full of crisp compositions, velvety shadows, and blown-out exteriors. He also does enough dew-falling-into-puddles shots to make Terrence Malick jealous. What I'm getting at is that creating a visual palette is never a problem for Pfister; telling a story is. His scenes are often flatly utilitarian, with blocking and dialogue interactions clunky at best — though he's certainly done no favors by the script, from first-timer Jack Paglen, which is as dopey as the day is long.
It concerns Will Caster, a rock-star scientist who speaks in the kind of dumbed-down-for-the-multiplex-audience platitudes that wouldn't get him a remedial science teacher job at a junior high. He and his scientist wife Evelyn are working at the cutting edge of artificial intelligence, so when a radical "neo-Luddite" group dooms Will to a slow death via radioactive poison, Evelyn concocts a scheme to keep him alive by uploading him into their A.I. system. A colleague did it with a monkey, she informs fellow scientist Max, which prompts the gracelessly overwrought response, "He's not a monkey!"
She does all of this in a conveniently abandoned high school that somehow also has enough electricity to power such an operation. Those pesky Neo-Luddites, led by Kate Mara (whose character seems primarily defined by her smoky eye makeup), kidnap Max and pinpoint the location of the system, but Evelyn manages to save Computer Will by uploading him to the Internet, where he is able to access everyone and everything, which throws the movie into a tailspin of Jaron Lanier-style technological paranoia, wrapped up in an understanding of "being online" that's barely more sophisticated than that of The Net.
In other words, this is some mighty goofy stuff — which would matter less if it didn't take itself so very seriously. Yet it's all very solemn and 'faux'-prescient, even when Computer Will is using his scientific brilliance and wireless networking to create an army of indestructible self-healers (yes, seriously), but there are enough plot holes to fill the giant underground data center that Computer Will and Evelyn somehow construct in a week or two without anyone noticing.
So why did Pfister want to make the movie? It's hard to say. Its concerns about technology and privacy aren't unfamiliar (they echo the climax of The Dark Knight), and it is indeed refreshing to see a science fiction film with some science in it — but it's all done at the most elementary level, the kind of bare-bones Science Talk that gets unintentional giggles from even the most lay of audiences. Sure, in fairness and even admiration, it must be noted that it is a film of ideas. It's just that so many of them are bad ones.
He certainly doesn't get much out of his cast; when I asked a writer friend why so few cinematographers make the transition, he replied simply, "They don't like talking with actors." That seems to be the case here — Depp turns in another of his untethered performances that substitute oddity for character, with hair that seems to have been combed with a wooden spoon and errant gum-chewing in important scenes, but doesn't seem to have received much help either; a key moment where Hall weakly insists "I've gotten everything I ever asked for" is way overplayed, the line pounded out between four different facial tics. A good director pulls that back — if they're paying attention to content rather than composition.
Transcendence manages to put up one eye-catching image after another, yet never engaged me for more than a moment, therefor it received a rating of 5/10 from me. And with all the great films being released around this time, I wouldn't recommend this as a priority viewing.
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