2.0

Banking on bogus science, save the wildlife propaganda and objectification of women in the form of a curvy female robot, 2.0, the sequel to Enthiran (aka Robot), is an unimpressive squandering of a lot of good money. INR 5.43 billion worth of good money in fact. That’s 77.8 million American dollars.

The thing is, it doesn’t look like a 77 million dollar blockbuster. It is, nevertheless just as dumb, with its logic becoming as indecipherable as the garbled chattering of a five year old high on a sugar rush.

I kid you not.

Take a step back and ponder for a second: 2.0’s villain is a giant angry bird made up of millions of cell phones that swoops down to destroy public property and military tanks in the daytime, while selectively killing a cell phone wholesaler, a transmission tower owner and a corrupt telecom minister at night. When not killing people, the cell phones disperse into a massive flying swarm that anyone — irrespective of how bad their eye sight is — could spot from miles away.

The Tamil government, though, hadn’t had its eyes checked in quite a while, because no one could find the swarm’s whereabouts. The think-tank includes a baffled minister (Adil Hussain), a son of a professor (Sudhanshu Pandey), a man who is presiding the meeting (Anant Mahadevan) — though, I have no idea what field the latter two excelled in to be a part of this group — and Dr. Vaseegaran (Rajnikanth, or ‘Super Star’ Rajni for the common folk).

Vaseegaran, with trusty secretary robot played by Amy Jackson by his side, says that he has looked up NASA’s data, and confirms that the villains are not terrorists or space aliens (REALLY! duh!).

His genius detective skills don’t really clue him in on the identity of the villain, so he proposes to rebuild Chitti the Robot (also Rajni, in badly-caked, contour-less face make-up) as the last line of defense. Chitti, for those out of the loop, is the same robot that went mad and nearly took over India in the last part.

Since no one could guess its identity, the big bad bird reveals itself as Pakshi Rajan — the living essence (ie ghost) of a bird-loving Ornithology professor (Akshay Kumar) who killed himself in the first frames of the movie.

Pakshi’s story is pinched from cyberpunk anime conventions, specifically the opening shot of Patlabor: The Movie (1989) and Final Fantasy: Spirits Within (2001).

With the story already flying off on a wild tangent, 2.0’s writers forcibly wed science fiction and supernatural concepts into an amateurishly laid-out fantasy. The marriage quickly darts towards divorce as the premise adds hardcore cosmological quantum science phenomena such as negative and dark energies into its narrative gobbledygook.

None of the hyperbole is convincingly elucidated, let alone make sense. For instance, we’re told that the cell phones commandeered by Pakshi are apparently untraceable, do not require recharges, can thwart gravity, and are indestructible even when shred apart by machine gun barrage.

In place of sense are a lot of visual effects in pop-out 3D. However, the lack of logic, bad dialogues, almost nonexistent character appeal (with slight exception to Akshay’s monologue) make 2.0 as appalling as the original.

Things happen one dud scene after the next because director Shankar (of Nayak and the brilliant Sivaji fame) wants to make a grand visual spectacle minus lucidity. What he presents is a big pile of expensive-looking bird poop.

2.0 weds science fiction and supernatural into an amateurishly laid-out fantasy while Ralph Breaks the Internet triumphs over Robin Hood and The Possession of Hannah Grace in cinemas

Robin Hood

It’s funny how things written on paper get translated on screen. In the version of Robin Hood playing in cinemas right now, the narrator is given a voice of wisdom and aloofness associated with old age. Starting with Robin Hood’s tale, he goes: “I would tell you what year it was, but I don’t really remember.” Frankly, it sounds like he doesn’t really care, and neither should you … I suppose.

This Robin Hood wants to modernise the looter of the rich and giver to the poor as a vigilante superhero (which in a way, he was), a designer-spandex wearing version of DC Comic’s Arrow (which in a way, he is).

The retooling is extreme. Robin (Targon Egerton) is the lord of Loxley who grabs Marian (Eve Hewson), a buxom horse-thief clad in designer wear, in the midst of her crime. Instead of turning her in, he starts wooing the woman. She, realising a rich charismatic man has interest in her, lets go of her criminal ways.

Soon, however, Robin is drafted into the Crusades, where director Otto Bathurst stylises medieval-time warfare as if it’s the American’s invasion of Iraq with bows armed like service rifles. Disillusioned with war, Robin learns that his estate was taken over by the government. With him is his trusty friend, Muslim leader Yahya (Jamie Foxx), a man he saved but whose name he cannot pronounce. Yahya, being far more astute, tells Robin to call him John.

Some training later, Robin becomes a version of TV’s Arrow, hopping over rooftops and shooting down villainy — namely, that of F. Murray Abraham as the evil Cardinal and Ben Mendelshon as the Sheriff of Nottingham.

By this time the screenplay loses interest in Jamie Foxx — perhaps, the only likable actor in this very wishy-washy retelling. Produced by Leonardo DiCaprio, Robin Hood may have sounded like a good idea at pitch time.

The Possession of Hannah Grace

In the exorcism that opens The Possession of Hannah Grace, the camera shakes so violently you fear it may fly off the hinges of its tripod. The demon that haunts the 20-something Hannah (Kirby Johnson) is deadly on cinema equipment, props and furniture, but even deadlier on priests.

Levitating people off the ground, forcing their bodies to the shape of crucifixion, and then breaking bones, the demon inhabiting Hannah’s body is a playful thing. Finding its way at the morgue in Boston Metro Hospital, where ex-Cop Megan (Shay Mitchell) works the graveyard shift, the demon slithers past security cameras, playing peek-a-boo with a few unfortunate ones.

There is more suspense than horror in the story. Director Diederik Van Rooijen milks the former dry and shoots the gruesomeness and actress Johnson’s body-contorting skills with utter disinterest.

The only things of interest are Lennent Hillege’s cinematography and the colour grading in the first 30 minutes. One loses curiosity for the story and the characters as soon as the demon in Hannah’s body smirks at the camera. 

Ralph Breaks the Internet

In Ralph Breaks the Internet videogame characters Ralph and Vanellope (voices of John C. Riley and Sarah Silverman) find their way to the internet to buy a game controller for Vanellope’s game Sugar Rush, before her damaged machine is sold to the dump.

It’s a fascinating adventure. Ralph becomes an internet sensation and Vanellope is enraptured by a deadly online racing game called Slaughter Race.

However, the giddy happiness one feels has as much to do with the little things in the story. In one particular scene, we finally see Ariel (from The Little Mermaid) put on a T-shirt, Cinderella breaking a glass shoe and flashing it as a weapon, and the rest of the Disney Princesses acknowledging Merida from Brave as their ilk.

Nobody has any idea what Merida says because of the heavy Scottish accent (“She’s from the other studio,” one princess says; a sly nod to Pixar) but there she is, in the same room as Snow White, Elsa (Frozen), Moana, Sleeping Beauty and almost every other princess in Disney’s fairytale realm. The scene formally accepts Vanellope as a Disney Princess and she even instinctively sings when making a crucial life decision.

These clever nods to the gargantuan Disney universe (which now includes Captain Marvel, Star Wars and soon the entire library of films from Fox) are a ripple in the ocean when compared to the filmmakers’ depiction of the internet. The net in Ralph is a giant city where avatars of internet users (us common folk) materialise like the Enterprise crew from Star Trek to browse and buy stuff.

In what is literally an unending labyrinth of familiar websites (think of Google, Facebook, Amazon as infinite multi-storied malls) the city plays hosts to all aspects of the web. From emojis to lewd and misleading pop-up messages, to the dark side of the net where viruses and hackers lurk, the web’s interpretation as a living breathing organism is nothing short of brilliant.

Cultural references pop up at every shot in Ralph and, like films from Pixar, this film moves you with a perfectly balanced story that has heart and heartache.

Published in Dawn, ICON, December 9th, 2018