Surrogates

Surrogates - Dir. Jonathan Mostow (2009)


Much like Whiteout, Surrogates is a comic book movie that fails to live up to its intriguing premise. The sci-fi flick takes the idea of internet avatars one step further by introducing the idea of actual avatars.

Mankind no longer bothers to leave their front door with the invention of robotic surrogates that can be controlled telepathically. The surrogates can be designed to look any way you want them to, any age, race, or even sex. Crime is now a thing of the past, until someone commits the first murder in years. The killer has a high-tech device that can fry the user’s brain through their surrogate. FBI Agent Tom Greer (Bruce Willis) is assigned to investigate along with his partner, Jennifer Peters (Radha Mitchell). The case grows in importance when one of the victims turns out to be the son of the inventor of surrogacy, Dr. Lionel Carter (James Cromwell playing almost the exact same role he did in I, Robot). Dr. Carter has grown disillusioned with the rampancy of his inventions and has chosen to be even more isolated than everyone else. There are also a group of humans called Dreads who despise surrogates and everything they represent. The Dreads live on their own surrogate-free reservation under the leadership of the militant Prophet (Ving Rhames).

When Greer’s surrogate is damaged, he must learn to venture into a world he hasn’t interacted with in a long time. Just as he hasn’t interacted with his own wife, Maggie (Rosamund Pike), despite the fact that she lives right across the hall from him. She has grown more and more reliant on her surrogate since the death of their son.

As with most science fiction films in recent memory, Surrogates dumbs down its central concept in favor of slick set pieces. No needs to think when you can watch stuff get blown up. The action sequences aren’t spectacular enough to set themselves apart from any other mediocre action flick being churned out today. The screen presence of Bruce Willis is really the only thing that grounds the picture.

Rating: **

W.

W. - Dir. Oliver Stone (2008)

The always controversial Oliver Stone courts more of the same with the first biopic focusing on a sitting president. In a similar fashion to Nixon, Stone takes a not-so-beloved figure and breaks him down into a sympathetic light. W. isn’t the hatchet job most believed it would be. Stone’s Dubya certainly isn’t an eloquent man, but he’s far from the greedy warmonger many liberals paint him out to be. He’s a man desperate to get out of the shadow of a far more successful, far more renowned father. A man born of privilege who still enjoys burgers, beer, and Cheetos. A simple man overwhelmed and ill-equipped to handle the position of power he finds himself in. The whole film hinges on Josh Brolin whose superb performance could have easily slipped onto the level of a bad SNL sketch. It’s hard to imagine anyone else in the role, especially Stone’s first choice, Christian Bale, who actually spent months studying “Bushy” to hone his take.

Stone paints a far less favorable picture of Bush’s inner circle. The actors may not capture the look of their real-life counterparts, they capture their essence. Condoleezza Rice is a sycophant parroting everything the President says. Rumsfeld is full of self-assurance and arrogance even past the point when its proven Iraq has no WMDs. Even worse is Dick Cheney. In the film’s most over-the-top moment, the Vice-President steps up to the plate in the war room, extorting the importance of oil and the building of an American empire. ”There is no exit strategy. We stay. Nobody will fuck with us.” It’s a sequence more fitting for a James Bond villain, yet may not stray too far from the truth. It is Cheney and Karl Rove who pull the strings of the gullible and easily swayed Dubya. Only Colin Powell is shown in any sort of positive light as the circle’s sole voice of conscience.

Is it a perfect film? Definitely not. The weakest moments of the picture come from Stone’s usual flourishes into the metaphysical. The main narrative is framed around a fantasy of Bush in an empty Arlington Park which never gels with the rest of the film. Obviously, much of the film should be taken with a grain of salt. It’ll be interesting to see what audience W. finds. Liberals may be disappointed by the lack of Bush bashing while conservatives won’t bother with what they think will be more of the same from bleeding heart Hollywood types.

Rating: ***