Additions:
Weather you consider him a multiplex king or cinematic cretin, there is no denying the sheer mass appeal of Michael Bay, with every film (including Pearl Harbour) returning plenty of the old greenback. Until now. The Island represents Bay’s financial fall from grace, just as he branches out to slightly more enthral subject matter, doggedly still retaining that uniquely overblown style, the famously self described “fucking the frame” approach.Wisely restraining himself to explosion free storytelling for the first half, Bay introduces us to the world of Lincoln Six Echo (Ewan McGregor) and Jordan Two Delta (Scarlett Johansson), just two of many clones being secretly manufactured by an evil corporation supplying spare body parts to the richest boys and girls of circa 2019 America. These duped doubles are raised in a secluded underground complex believing the world has succumb to a super virus which has wiped anything living off most of the planet, the only exception being the island: a mythical paradise sparingly awarded through a daily lottery. When Lincoln Six Echo accidentally discovers that winners of this televised draw actually end up on the chopping block just as Jordan Two Delta hits the jackpot, they make a break for freedom into a world they’ve never known.
The inevitable action then kicks in and sadly seems shoehorned into this simple sci-fi tale. Typically enormous set pieces needlessly abound, and as the characters run, jump and get chased through the sunset-lit, helicopter filled backdrops a prevailing sense of indifference begins to resonate. The philosophical issues of cloning have their surface only lightly skimmed before the unnatural progression to hyper-kinetic blockbuster, resulting in a film unable to truly satisfy either genre. All of which wouldn’t stop this being a guilty pleasure if it wasn’t choked by its own 12 certificate. Bay may claim to make movies for teenage boys, but without some kind of physical onscreen justice for the bad guys, or any flesh shown during the first act of intercourse between two people denied closeness for a lifetime, the whole enterprise becomes watered down.
Johansson is pretty but miscast, whilst Mcgregor excels, pulling off two opposite versions of one man, complete with different accents. In particular, his double sequences bring a much-needed sense of levity between watching the stock villains: Sean Bean’s scientist with a god complex and Djimon Hounsou’s conscious stricken assassin. Look out for Ethan Phillips too, plucking those heartstrings better then he ever did in seven years of Star Trek.
Deletions:
varorda
Weather you consider him a multiplex king or cinematic cretin, there is no denying the sheer mass appeal of Michael Bay, with every film (including Pearl Harbour) returning plenty of the old greenback. Until now. The Island represents Bay’s financial fall from grace, just as he branches out to slightly more enthral subject matter, doggedly still retaining that uniquely overblown style, the famously self described “fucking the frame” approach.Wisely restraining himself to explosion free storytelling for the first half, Bay introduces us to the world of Lincoln Six Echo (Ewan McGregor) and Jordan Two Delta (Scarlett Johansson), just two of many clones being secretly manufactured by an evil corporation supplying spare body parts to the richest boys and girls of circa 2019 America. These duped doubles are raised in a secluded underground complex believing the world has succumb to a super virus which has wiped anything living off most of the planet, the only exception being the island: a mythical paradise sparingly awarded through a daily lottery. When Lincoln Six Echo accidentally discovers that winners of this televised draw actually end up on the chopping block just as Jordan Two Delta hits the jackpot, they make a break for freedom into a world they’ve never known.
The inevitable action then kicks in and sadly seems shoehorned into this simple sci-fi tale. Typically enormous set pieces needlessly abound, and as the characters run, jump and get chased through the sunset-lit, helicopter filled backdrops a prevailing sense of indifference begins to resonate. The philosophical issues of cloning have their surface only lightly skimmed before the unnatural progression to hyper-kinetic blockbuster, resulting in a film unable to truly satisfy either genre. All of which wouldnÂ’t stop this being a guilty pleasure if it wasnÂ’t choked by its own 12 certificate. Bay may claim to make movies for teenage boys, but without some kind of physical onscreen justice for the bad guys, or any flesh shown during the first act of intercourse between two people denied closeness for a lifetime, the whole enterprise becomes watered down.
Johansson is pretty but miscast, whilst Mcgregor excels, pulling off two opposite versions of one man, complete with different accents. In particular, his double sequences bring a much-needed sense of levity between watching the stock villains: Sean BeanÂ’s scientist with a god complex and Djimon HounsouÂ’s conscious stricken assassin. Look out for Ethan Phillips too, plucking those heartstrings better then he ever did in seven years of Star Trek.
Edited on 2007-11-26 21:27:01 by 195.229.242.57
Additions:
varorda
Weather you consider him a multiplex king or cinematic cretin, there is no denying the sheer mass appeal of Michael Bay, with every film (including Pearl Harbour) returning plenty of the old greenback. Until now. The Island represents Bay’s financial fall from grace, just as he branches out to slightly more enthral subject matter, doggedly still retaining that uniquely overblown style, the famously self described “fucking the frame” approach.Wisely restraining himself to explosion free storytelling for the first half, Bay introduces us to the world of Lincoln Six Echo (Ewan McGregor) and Jordan Two Delta (Scarlett Johansson), just two of many clones being secretly manufactured by an evil corporation supplying spare body parts to the richest boys and girls of circa 2019 America. These duped doubles are raised in a secluded underground complex believing the world has succumb to a super virus which has wiped anything living off most of the planet, the only exception being the island: a mythical paradise sparingly awarded through a daily lottery. When Lincoln Six Echo accidentally discovers that winners of this televised draw actually end up on the chopping block just as Jordan Two Delta hits the jackpot, they make a break for freedom into a world they’ve never known.
The inevitable action then kicks in and sadly seems shoehorned into this simple sci-fi tale. Typically enormous set pieces needlessly abound, and as the characters run, jump and get chased through the sunset-lit, helicopter filled backdrops a prevailing sense of indifference begins to resonate. The philosophical issues of cloning have their surface only lightly skimmed before the unnatural progression to hyper-kinetic blockbuster, resulting in a film unable to truly satisfy either genre. All of which wouldnÂ’t stop this being a guilty pleasure if it wasnÂ’t choked by its own 12 certificate. Bay may claim to make movies for teenage boys, but without some kind of physical onscreen justice for the bad guys, or any flesh shown during the first act of intercourse between two people denied closeness for a lifetime, the whole enterprise becomes watered down.
Johansson is pretty but miscast, whilst Mcgregor excels, pulling off two opposite versions of one man, complete with different accents. In particular, his double sequences bring a much-needed sense of levity between watching the stock villains: Sean BeanÂ’s scientist with a god complex and Djimon HounsouÂ’s conscious stricken assassin. Look out for Ethan Phillips too, plucking those heartstrings better then he ever did in seven years of Star Trek.
Deletions:
Weather you consider him a multiplex king or cinematic cretin, there is no denying the sheer mass appeal of Michael Bay, with every film (including Pearl Harbour) returning plenty of the old greenback. Until now. The Island represents Bay’s financial fall from grace, just as he branches out to slightly more enthral subject matter, doggedly still retaining that uniquely overblown style, the famously self described “fucking the frame” approach.Wisely restraining himself to explosion free storytelling for the first half, Bay introduces us to the world of Lincoln Six Echo (Ewan McGregor) and Jordan Two Delta (Scarlett Johansson), just two of many clones being secretly manufactured by an evil corporation supplying spare body parts to the richest boys and girls of circa 2019 America. These duped doubles are raised in a secluded underground complex believing the world has succumb to a super virus which has wiped anything living off most of the planet, the only exception being the island: a mythical paradise sparingly awarded through a daily lottery. When Lincoln Six Echo accidentally discovers that winners of this televised draw actually end up on the chopping block just as Jordan Two Delta hits the jackpot, they make a break for freedom into a world they’ve never known.
The inevitable action then kicks in and sadly seems shoehorned into this simple sci-fi tale. Typically enormous set pieces needlessly abound, and as the characters run, jump and get chased through the sunset-lit, helicopter filled backdrops a prevailing sense of indifference begins to resonate. The philosophical issues of cloning have their surface only lightly skimmed before the unnatural progression to hyper-kinetic blockbuster, resulting in a film unable to truly satisfy either genre. All of which wouldn’t stop this being a guilty pleasure if it wasn’t choked by its own 12 certificate. Bay may claim to make movies for teenage boys, but without some kind of physical onscreen justice for the bad guys, or any flesh shown during the first act of intercourse between two people denied closeness for a lifetime, the whole enterprise becomes watered down.
Johansson is pretty but miscast, whilst Mcgregor excels, pulling off two opposite versions of one man, complete with different accents. In particular, his double sequences bring a much-needed sense of levity between watching the stock villains: Sean Bean’s scientist with a god complex and Djimon Hounsou’s conscious stricken assassin. Look out for Ethan Phillips too, plucking those heartstrings better then he ever did in seven years of Star Trek.
Oldest known version of this page was edited on 2005-09-24 14:44:14 by TheWizard []
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The Island
Weather you consider him a multiplex king or cinematic cretin, there is no denying the sheer mass appeal of Michael Bay, with every film (including Pearl Harbour) returning plenty of the old greenback. Until now. The Island represents Bay’s financial fall from grace, just as he branches out to slightly more enthral subject matter, doggedly still retaining that uniquely overblown style, the famously self described “fucking the frame” approach.Wisely restraining himself to explosion free storytelling for the first half, Bay introduces us to the world of Lincoln Six Echo (Ewan McGregor) and Jordan Two Delta (Scarlett Johansson), just two of many clones being secretly manufactured by an evil corporation supplying spare body parts to the richest boys and girls of circa 2019 America. These duped doubles are raised in a secluded underground complex believing the world has succumb to a super virus which has wiped anything living off most of the planet, the only exception being the island: a mythical paradise sparingly awarded through a daily lottery. When Lincoln Six Echo accidentally discovers that winners of this televised draw actually end up on the chopping block just as Jordan Two Delta hits the jackpot, they make a break for freedom into a world they’ve never known.
The inevitable action then kicks in and sadly seems shoehorned into this simple sci-fi tale. Typically enormous set pieces needlessly abound, and as the characters run, jump and get chased through the sunset-lit, helicopter filled backdrops a prevailing sense of indifference begins to resonate. The philosophical issues of cloning have their surface only lightly skimmed before the unnatural progression to hyper-kinetic blockbuster, resulting in a film unable to truly satisfy either genre. All of which wouldn’t stop this being a guilty pleasure if it wasn’t choked by its own 12 certificate. Bay may claim to make movies for teenage boys, but without some kind of physical onscreen justice for the bad guys, or any flesh shown during the first act of intercourse between two people denied closeness for a lifetime, the whole enterprise becomes watered down.
Johansson is pretty but miscast, whilst Mcgregor excels, pulling off two opposite versions of one man, complete with different accents. In particular, his double sequences bring a much-needed sense of levity between watching the stock villains: Sean Bean’s scientist with a god complex and Djimon Hounsou’s conscious stricken assassin. Look out for Ethan Phillips too, plucking those heartstrings better then he ever did in seven years of Star Trek.
Ultimately the cast can only take the material so far, and there is no denying that this contains chases that were similar and yet bettered in Bad Boys 2. And when Bay is drawing influences from the weakest entries in his own oeuvre, perhaps its no surprise that the results struggle to make the grade.
CategoryFilm