The Island
The first movie directed by Michael Bay (Pearl Harbor, Bad Boys) I ever saw willingly, The Island drew me in on the merits of its two stars, Ewan McGregor and Scarlett Johansson. As it turns out, I should’ve stuck to my instincts—and Bay should be shipped off to the “Island” for this waste of star power, millions of dollars, and theater space.
Long known for his collaborations with his slightly less reprehensible producing partner Jerry Bruckheimer, Michael Bay knows a great setup when he sees one: The Island tells a story of organ harvesting from multi-million dollar clone “insurance policies” who operate in a utopian society of ignorance. When one of the clones, Lincoln Six Echo (McGregor) begins to question his existence, he is forced to save his friend Jordan Two Delta (Johansson) from her trip to “the Island,” an even more utopian dream purported upon these clones by their god-like director Merrick (Sean Bean).
The ethics of cloning and organ harvesting are at the forefront, but the story also touches on free will and what happens when you attempt to strip the human spirit of its most natural desires (aggression, sex, curiosity). It’s a great bit of science fiction, but with a terrible script and Bay’s tendency to mangle an interesting story with a flurry of chase scenes, car crashes and explosions, the original concept is barely noticeable amidst all the action. When the themes do reach the surface, all the provocative ideas are shoved aside in favor of lame jokes and forced drama.
A lot of the themes in this movie have been explored a lot better in recent years with films like A.I., Minority Report and Serenity. Those movies all took time to ponder the questions they raised. The Island mainly leaves you scratching your head. Set in 2050, things don’t look much different from our world, except of course for the fancy Puma track suits, hovering Amtrak trains and winged-door Cadillac sports cars. Our heroes are three and two years old, respectively, and are trained to the education of 15-year-olds. When they make it outside their home facility into the real world, they are in constant awe of the things around them, but only when it’s convenient for the script. In one scene, you have Jordan looking to the sky when a bartender asks if she wants her drink “straight up,” and in the next she’s telling the helpful McCord (Steve Buscemi) “I’m not stupid.”
I, however, apparently am stupid, as I chose to see this movie knowing most of the caveats ahead of time. I ignored the warnings because of the two stars. Now I’m left wondering how they got roped into this mess. The dialogue makes that in Star Wars (which McGregor has consistently bashed for its clunkiness) sound like Shakespeare. For someone who has made few questionable choices in her career thus far, Johansson stumbles mightily here. Reduced to eye candy and expressions of varying perplexity/distress, Scarlett takes a major step down that luckily (thanks to Woody Allen) will probably be forgotten quickly. Her most memorable scene in the movie might actually have been her real Calvin Klein commercial, thrown into the movie in a weird bit of meta-reality that goes beyond even Julia Roberts playing herself in Ocean’s 12.
Lots of critics have cited that this movie is a perfect example of what’s wrong with modern movie-making, and while I can’t totally disagree, the movie has some value. It will make for a very popular drinking game for future generations, for example. Just count how many times someone yells “Run!” or “Go!”, or even more fun, count the product placements! They come often and in many forms (dialogue, backgrounds, props), so it will surely make the game harder as you get further into the movie. For icing on your drunken cake, you could even drink every time something explodes or a car flips over, but that portion of the game may need a surgeon general’s warning. Caution: This movie may cause extreme drunkenness. Please monitor your blood alcohol levels often.
Grade: D