I happen to see this picture yesterday, with a friend of mine, and liked it quite a bit. But it illustrates an increasing problem with big budgeted movies. Spoilers follow.
The movie opens with the hero, an Army helicopter pilot, coming to consciousness on a Chicago commuter train. He's being addressed by a pretty girl as her boyfriend. He has various interactions with other passengers. He has no idea of what's going on. As he's trying to figure out who and where he is, a bomb detonates, killing everyone.
He finds himself back in a cell, something like a space capsule. He's informed that he's just been a part of a computer simulation, that the train was blown up that morning, that he's been cybernetically linked with the remnants of one of the victims (let it go, this is science fiction), and that his mission is to ID the bomber and prevent him or her from doing more damage. The simulation repeats and he's off again, a bit wiser, and wiser with every iteration.
Now, you don't have to be an experienced science fiction reader (which I am) to figure out that the Army pilot is dead, that these computer people are hooking up his brain to the simulation. Live people don't end up inside computer programs. But this does come as a big surprise to the captain, and to the more naive members of the audience. And it does set up what should have been a really original ending.
The hero finally completes the mission, having fallen for the girl along the way. He knows he's dead, and so is she, and all this is virtual reality. He pleads with the sympathetic operator to let him redo the simulation one last time, then let him die - completely. Touched, she agrees, even though the ogre chief of the project wants to 'wipe his memory' and use him again.
And what happens in the last iteration is what should have made the movie memorable. Knowing this is his last remnant of consciousness, what he does the last time is make everyone in the train car happy. He's learned a great deal about them the other times through. He bets a comedian (whom he has recognized from television) all the money he has that he can't make everyone on the car laugh. The man takes the bet and proceeds to do just that. As the seconds tick down to the inevitable end, when they'll all be incinerated, he takes the girl in his arms, tells her he loves her, and wants to be with her forever. The frame freezes and pans the whole length of the car, revealing every passenger laughing or in various states of bliss. This is the instant that will see the hero into eternity.
Not bad, completely unexpected, and, like the best twists, revealing that the theme of the drama was something completely different than the detective story it seemed to be. It's always nice to be surprised like that. I will confess to having to deal with moist eyes constantly at movies, and this was another occasion. A perfect ending. I reached for my hat, expecting the credits to roll up, and . . . . .
. . . it wasn't over. It went on for another 15 minutes, into the most God-awful coda you ever saw, completely obliterating the premises of the story, so bad I am not going to describe it.
What goes on? My guess is that when they previewed the movie, they found that the some members of the audience were dismayed that people as cute and likable as Jake Gyllenhall and Michelle Monaghan have to suffer the fate they do. A happy ending required. I think that's what happens, given production costs and promotion costs in the tens of millions. Trusting the better sense of the audience is a thing of the past. Too much sunk cost.
The movie opens with the hero, an Army helicopter pilot, coming to consciousness on a Chicago commuter train. He's being addressed by a pretty girl as her boyfriend. He has various interactions with other passengers. He has no idea of what's going on. As he's trying to figure out who and where he is, a bomb detonates, killing everyone.
He finds himself back in a cell, something like a space capsule. He's informed that he's just been a part of a computer simulation, that the train was blown up that morning, that he's been cybernetically linked with the remnants of one of the victims (let it go, this is science fiction), and that his mission is to ID the bomber and prevent him or her from doing more damage. The simulation repeats and he's off again, a bit wiser, and wiser with every iteration.
Now, you don't have to be an experienced science fiction reader (which I am) to figure out that the Army pilot is dead, that these computer people are hooking up his brain to the simulation. Live people don't end up inside computer programs. But this does come as a big surprise to the captain, and to the more naive members of the audience. And it does set up what should have been a really original ending.
The hero finally completes the mission, having fallen for the girl along the way. He knows he's dead, and so is she, and all this is virtual reality. He pleads with the sympathetic operator to let him redo the simulation one last time, then let him die - completely. Touched, she agrees, even though the ogre chief of the project wants to 'wipe his memory' and use him again.
And what happens in the last iteration is what should have made the movie memorable. Knowing this is his last remnant of consciousness, what he does the last time is make everyone in the train car happy. He's learned a great deal about them the other times through. He bets a comedian (whom he has recognized from television) all the money he has that he can't make everyone on the car laugh. The man takes the bet and proceeds to do just that. As the seconds tick down to the inevitable end, when they'll all be incinerated, he takes the girl in his arms, tells her he loves her, and wants to be with her forever. The frame freezes and pans the whole length of the car, revealing every passenger laughing or in various states of bliss. This is the instant that will see the hero into eternity.
Not bad, completely unexpected, and, like the best twists, revealing that the theme of the drama was something completely different than the detective story it seemed to be. It's always nice to be surprised like that. I will confess to having to deal with moist eyes constantly at movies, and this was another occasion. A perfect ending. I reached for my hat, expecting the credits to roll up, and . . . . .
. . . it wasn't over. It went on for another 15 minutes, into the most God-awful coda you ever saw, completely obliterating the premises of the story, so bad I am not going to describe it.
What goes on? My guess is that when they previewed the movie, they found that the some members of the audience were dismayed that people as cute and likable as Jake Gyllenhall and Michelle Monaghan have to suffer the fate they do. A happy ending required. I think that's what happens, given production costs and promotion costs in the tens of millions. Trusting the better sense of the audience is a thing of the past. Too much sunk cost.