Passengers (2016)

Director: Morten Tyldum
Starring: Jennifer Lawrence, Chris Pratt, Michael Sheen, Laurence Fishburne
Running Time: 116 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

**Major Spoiler Warning: This review gives away key plot details, including the ending**

What you may not have heard about Passengers is how good a premise it has, exploring some morally deep and heady stuff for a mainstream sci-fi picture starring the two biggest movie stars working right now. For a while, it really has something, with a script that does what the best in this genre demands, painting its characters into a corner and pushing their buttons in such a way that all the filmmakers had to do was step back and let the actors and story organically take us where we needed to go. Halfway to three quarters through, it seems that's exactly where we're headed, until it's abruptly abandoned in favor of sending audiences home happy. Or more accurately, insulting our intelligence.

While still leagues better than it's gotten credit for, what everyone will probably agree on is that the wrong decision was made for silly commercial reasons in the final act. This happens a lot. That the film still works really well despite its conclusion is a testament to all involved since I refuse to believe the ending resulted from anything but wrongheaded studio interference. You may as well post those studio notes right up there on the screen since it's unlikely anyone will be considering much else in the final minutes. Labeled and marketed as a "sci-fi romance" Passengers handles both the former and latter part of that equation exceptionally well with two incredibly likable, skilled actors, but it's the ethical predicament presented at the get-go that will spark arguments and conversation. Had they stuck with that all the way through there's no telling what we could have gotten.

As it stands, this is still a consistently engaging endeavor, featuring performances, production design, music and writing more than a few notches above the standard. Then it just throws its hands in the air and surrenders, doing a disservice to both these actors and the audience. Even worse, the most obvious and effective ending is just sitting there on a platter ready for the taking. Hopefully, there were re-shoots and those scenes are laying around somewhere other than the recesses of our imaginations. Until that sees the light of day, I'll continue to deny the existence of the one we got, even if what precedes it provides unexpected thrills.

The starship Avalon is on a 120 year journey to a new colony called Homestead II, with 5,000 passengers and 258 crew members all comfortably resting in their hibernation pods, set to be awakened a month prior to arrival. But when mechanical engineer Jim Preston (Chris Pratt) awakens 90 years early due to a pod malfunction, he discovers that aside from an android bartender named Arthur (Michael Sheen), he's the only passenger awake on the ship, and faces years of isolation until his eventual death.

Depressed, suicidal and having exhausted the few potential options available to him, Jim discovers the pod of Aurora Lane (Jennifer Lawrence) and through her video profile immediately falls for the funny, beautiful journalist. He then makes the controversial decision to awaken her for companionship, thereby dooming her to the same fate as he, dying on this ship years before the rest of the passengers and crew arrive at Homestead II.  Once Aurora is revived, the two grow close, as Jim continues to conceal the truth that her "accidental" awakening had nothing to do with a pod malfunction, Unfortunately, the ship is faces other, bigger problems that could threaten the entire journey.

Right out the gate, the scenario is immediately compelling yet still somewhat of a slow burn as we watch Pratt's character come to the realization that something went very wrong and he'll be spending the rest of his days in solitude.  Him trying to figure out the technicalities associated with that and his slow surrender to that fact that there's no way out are reminiscent of the dilemma faced by Matt Damon's protagonist in The Martian. But while certain problem-solving scenes are similar, there's a key difference that actually works in this film's favor: It isn't intercut with a bunch of muckety mucks goofing it up at NASA. He can't contact home at all so while Mark Watney's life may have been in immediate danger in ways Jim's isn't here, this at least treats its premise of isolation and loneliness dead seriously. So when Jim opens that pod to awaken his sleeping crush it really means something, throwing gasoline on the fire of an ethical dilemma that's already kind of jaw-dropping in its implications.

Those familiar with Chris Pratt's TV career know how good he is and how much more personality and dimension he's capable of showing when not pigeonholed by the action hero mold he's been shoved into thus far on the big screen. In the opening hour and slightly beyond we get a big glimpse of that talent again because he's handed worthwhile material, even if I'll contend it was a mistake to have his character initially come out of the pod looking like he just stepped out of Gold's Gym.
There seems to this push-pull going on with Pratt lately, and through this entire film, where Hollywood is desperate to turn him into the next huge action star under their terms when his skill set doesn't necessarily line up with that, at least in the boneheaded way they want it to. He's better than that.

Often, Pratt's a quirkier and more fun presence than what he's given and if not more selective in his choices he could end up in a similar situation to Tom Cruise, currently on acting auto-pilot in action roles into his 50's. And while it's easy to argue that there are far worse places to be than in Cruise's shoes, this battle with Pratt hasn't really bled it's way onto the screen until now, with this, his best big screen performance so far. While it's almost entirely undermined in the film's final third, the humor, empathy and subtly he brings to this part is matched only by his co-star.

Lawrence and Pratt are simply great together. That's at least partially why the ending is so disappointing. Nothing has to be written to manufacturer or further drive home the connection between Aurora and Jim. They just have it and from the second he opens her pod the two actors have an immediate chemistry that's completely believable, stacking the deck even more until the big reveal comes. And when she does find out the truth and that hammer comes down, does it ever come down, with Lawrence giving a tour de force, driving home to gravity of this lie, which should carry huge repercussions. We witness a few of those, until the movie travels another, less interesting route.

I have no problem with the script veering in a more action-oriented direction, but when it starts leaning more on sub-par, video game looking visual effects than Guy Hendrix Dyas' amazing, Oscar-nominated production design, the film suffers. And the unsatisfying resolution pushes aside the central moral dilemma, until it pops up again at the end in an unwelcome manner meant to give us the warm and fuzzies.

It's almost become a long-running joke in romantic comedies and dramas that in the next to last act the girl finds out a lie the guy has been telling and pushes him away, only to run back into his arms at the end for no good reason other than to put smiles on faces. But this isn't one of those kinds of lies. It's huge and intriguing, with far-reaching ethical concerns about how men and women treat each other, all of which stand as a big compliment to screenwriter Jon Spaihts. Up until then this script is so smart that there's little indication it will lazily fall back on that well-worn cliche. But it does. Both characters can survive. She can even eventually forgive what he does. The ship can arrive safely at its destination years later.  If all this happened under reasonable terms without our strings being pulled or the central premise being undermined, it would be fine. 

While I'm slightly overselling the ending's problems to make a larger point, kudos should go to the talented, if previously nondescript director Morten Tyldum for executing a thankless finale as efficiently as possible. But there is an alternate idea that's floated around for the finish that would have easily taken this to the level it belongs. At the risk of instead reviewing a movie we didn't get, having Jim die to save the ship and passengers on board in the final act seems only logical, with the real kicker being that Aurora is left alone in the same isolated predicament he was. In a Twilight Zone-like twist, she can contemplate awakening a male passenger for companionship, continuing the cycle as the screen cuts to black. That would work brilliantly, standing as a cruel coda on the loneliness and selfishness of human beings put in extreme circumstances. Something like that is certainly more in line with the film's existential tone.

At least Passengers, even at its worst, gives us something meaningful to chew on, which is more than I expected given the brutal reviews and poor box office. That this was a decision or two away from greatness is what makes it so infuriating. Ultimately rescuing it is the pairing of Lawrence and Pratt, its ideas and how this world is so thoroughly realized on a desolate spaceship through the impeccable production design. It has a unique vision, and while some may be bothered by how it casually borrows elements from films like Kubrick's The Shining in the bar scenes, it never hurts to lift from the best, and there's little debate Sheen makes that character all his own.

Unlike last year's 10 Cloverfield Lane, at least it's final minutes don't hinge on a big reveal, the result of which makes or breaks the entire picture. In fact, none of what happens is much of a secret at all, given the studio's questionable call to have the film's advertising essentially spoil the ethical dilemma at its center. Whether it showed a lack of faith in the product or represented a desperate attempt to get potential moviegoers into seats, it may have been an unintentionally shrewd move. That scenario is what it has most going for it, inspiring enough thought and conversation to overcome a poorly realized ending that comes close to undoing the good that came before. That it still can't is reason enough reason to respect Passengers' intentions, while still wondering what could have been.

The Imitation Game

Director: Morten Tyldum
Starring: Benedict Cumberbatch, Keira Knightley, Matthew Goode, Mark Strong, Charles Dance, Allen Leech, Matthew Beard, Roy Kinnear, Alex Lawther, Jack Bannon
Running Time: 114 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

In the historical heroes gallery that comprises this year's Best Picture race, World War II codebreaker and cryptanalyst Alan Turing stands out from the pack. Not only because his story's so different, but because so few have heard of him or that story until recently. With The Imitation Game, director Morten Tyldum makes a biopic that doesn't feel like one even when going through the usual motions because its subject transcends it, as does Benedict Cumberbatch's brilliant lead performance. It's been endlessly compared to The Theory of Everything but other than both being British biopics about tortured geniuses, there are very few similarities aside from sharing a stigma they were made as awards bait.  While Everything was very much traditional biopic that methodically walked us through Stephen Hawking's marriage and illness, careful not to ruffle any feathers, this is an exciting sprint through the life and work of a complicated and persecuted man at odds with his own identity.

When this ends, you're able to understand exactly what he did and why it was so important, even if his story's the biographical equivalent of a tree falling in the forest, with someone accomplishing a feat so risky and ahead of its time it couldn't be revealed for nearly 50 years. The unheralded father of artificial intelligence and computers, Turing's odd quirks and anti-social behavior draw closer comparisons to Mark Zuckerberg in The Social Network than a legend history ignored. But carrying the heavy load of his "big secret" during an unfortunately intolerant time is what ultimately caused his undoing and eventual anonymity, even in death. Tyldum's efforts go a long way toward correcting that. 

Occasionally jumping back-and-forth through time between his days being bullied at boarding school in 1927 and eventual arrest and interrogation as a college professor in 1951, the bulk of the film centers on Alan Turing's (Cumberbatch) time working at England's Bletchley Park at the height of World War II. After an awkward, confrontational interview with Commander Alastair Denniston (Charles Dance), the arrogant but gifted Turing is hired and eventually put in charge of a covert cryptography team that includes Hugh Alexander (Matthew Goode), John Cairncross (Allen Leech) and Peter Hilton (Matthew Beard).  Appointed by the government to secretly decrypt the Nazi Enigma machine, Turing oversees a group of men who neither like nor respect him, building a machine named "Christopher" that he hopes can decode the German encryptions. Controversially, he also adds a woman, Cambridge grad Joan Clarke (Keira Knightley), to the team. But with Denniston breathing down his neck for immediate results and a secret life that could potentially destroy him, Turing will have to learn how to play nice with others if there's to be any chance of saving lives and eventually ending the war.

Turing is immediately introduced as a conceited oddball who's to difficult to work with and nearly impossible to work for. He doesn't listen, can't look you in the eye, has problems carrying on a normal conversation and does whatever he wants regardless of the consequences or how it effects anyone else. He often comes off as an Apergers sufferer before anyone knew what it was or how to diagnosis it, with his saving grace being that he's a genius who's right about nearly everything. The machine represents the apex of his intellectual capabilities, but whether he'll admit it or not, he needs the help in honing and perfecting it to accomplish its code-breaking goal.

The push and pull of the story is Turing's constant battles with his entire team since his mind doesn't have the time or capacity for dealing with people. The lone exception is Joan, whom he goes to bat for reasons more complicated than it first appears. At first, it seems as if he's just simply using her abilities to get this done. We then suspect he might be unselfishly pushing her to fulfill her potential. And then briefly, Graham Moore's script begins hinting at a burgeoning romance between the two. This is where the movie turns on its heels and heads in an entirely new direction, as Turing's closeted homosexuality comes to the surface and threatens to end him, insuring he'll face criminal charges or worse.

Turing's secret is one he didn't even seem to be in on himself or refuses to acknowledge as reality in those times, as his misguided marriage proposal to Joan confirms. He just knows he's "different." And that's really the prism through which the whole film and Cumberbatch's work in it can be viewed, so it's strange many feel the script brushes this aspect under the rug. Every scene is about his inability to fit in, most especially ones opposite the similarly marginalized and underestimated Joan and the flashbacks to his childhood (featuring a great Alex Lawther performance as young Turing).

It's only by cracking Enigma that he can escape all this, and because Tyldum is so good at showing rather than telling, it's these scenes that crackle with the most tension and excitement. It isn't just solving Enigma, but the actions need to be taken afterwards to insure they maximize the intel they have without tipping off the Germans. They're walking a thin line that ends up introducing all sorts of complicated moral questions that the characters and audience wouldn't immediately consider. The cruelest irony is that even after Turing figures it all out, saving millions of lives and ending the war, the secret of his heroic actions isn't the one that ends up getting out. It's the other one, and it destroys him. 

Cumberbatch is a revelation in this, called upon to reflect two entirely different dimensions to Turing's personality. There's the quirky, arrogant genius and the vulnerable, frightened child that's still very prevalent from the earlier flashbacks. It isn't until the third act that they completely converge and we're able to gain a full appreciation and understanding of the subtle acting choices he made earlier. While Turing may have had deeper problems co-existing with others, it's his sexuality that proves to be his true undoing. It's now insensitive to refer to it as a "handicap" or "disability," but at the time it was viewed as that or far worse, and Cumberbatch rightly plays it as such.

The film rarely cuts corners in that regard, as reluctant in revealing it as he is until the time comes to hammer home its importance in determining his tragic trajectory. Opposite him, Knightley delivers her typically solid period drama performance, which is to say she's completely effective without necessarily impressing. She can do this in her sleep, but at least here she's afforded the added benefit of playing a character of agency who can't be the love interest. But I still say her career best performance in Begin Again from earlier in the year would have made for a far worthier acting nomination.

One of the harsher criticisms leveled against the film is that even as well done as it is, this is something you'd just as easily be able to see as a television miniseries on History, PBS or BBC. But given the high quality of dramatic TV these days, is that really such an insult? While I'd agree there's nothing especially noteworthy about Tyldum's direction, a lot can be said for knowing when you have a compelling story and just getting of the way to let your actors tell it. Like most of the "based on a true story" awards contenders this year, creative liberties were likely taken with key facts, but here you can legitimately marvel at the surprising facts we do get, or that we've gotten any at all considering the unusual circumstances. The Imitation Game is absorbing and sincere enough to take the line, "Sometimes it is the people no one imagines anything of who do the things that no one can imagine" and make it seem like more than just an empty platitude.