So it’s good? Meh. Then it’s bad? Well…meh… It is certainly a Wachowski picture, and you can set your expectations accordingly. One thing worth noting is the picture itself, it’s relegation from summer primetime to February hell, and the dismissiveness surrounding the final product. It all makes for a fascinating comment on the state of Nerd Culture™. Nerd Culture hasn’t suffered only from codification, but something much more severe, it’s been cool-kid-ized. Where knowing the name of Thor’s Hammer (Mjolnir for those keeping track) was once grounds for an ass kicking, now it’s a conversation starter.
The unified front is gone. There’s no collective of outsiders left to rally behind these unknown geek properties as social glue. Marvel deep cuts have become blockbusters, and Star Wars is more mainstream then McDonalds. As a result of this trend, there is no one left to foam at the mouth over the blanket prospect of a space opera. To give it a chance on that merit alone. In 2015, it has to be as good or better than Guardians, and it needs to wear the right references, but not in an obvious way. A new “nerd” movie is now held to standards genre devotees once eschewed. And if anything, Jupiter Ascending shows the Wachowski’s are among the last believers.
Jupiter Ascending is the Wachowskis climbing into their oh-so-very-dorky sandbox, clutching their action figures, and play-acting their sci-fi fantasy. Where this may seem to drip with some romance, and it does, the characters, scenes, settings, and story are as broad and dimensionless as plastic toys. They still imbue these plasticized caricatures with the kind of fervor and excitement you’d expect, but it’s not profound in any way. And much like a story an overexcited child would tell you, it's riddled with holes, logic and narrative. At best, so many of the film’s elements feel as though they began with the words, “wouldn’t it be cool if…”
Wouldn’t it be cool if Mila Kunis was named after a planet and was this, uh, exact genetic replication of some space queen? Wouldn’t it be cool if Channing Tatum was, like, this half albino wolf-man with anti-gravity rollerblades? Wouldn’t it be so cool if the Legionnaires of this world had crazy bio-tech wings, because, yeah, symbolism and stuff? Wouldn’t it be cool if Sean Bean? And then you set all that on the well worn tracks of the archetypal hero myth and you’ve pretty much got your picture.
There are some clever moments, a journey through the world of intergalactic bureaucracy in particular, but so much of the story is totally boneheaded. Try as they might to instill Game of Thrones style familial politics, alternate versions of Earth’s purpose, commentary on resource exploitation, it all amounts to, “duurrr.” We’re plied with the same sequence of events three times in a row, there’s no tension or surprises, and the film ends with a shot almost identical to the one found at the end of The Matrix.
So why bother with the foreground if I’m just going to pan the film? Because I’m glad this movie exists, and I had a damn good time watching it. It’s fun, it’s campy, it’s downright tacky, but it’s earnest. It's slapped together with moralizing, platitudes, a myriad of genre considerations, and then spun on a carousel of outer space hijinks. Call me crazy, but isn’t that what we bargained for?
Jupiter Ascending is no great film, but I enjoyed it. Shallow, frenetic, unfocused, clichéd, in this case, these are noble qualities. Though, more than anything, it’s a genuine B-movie and that’s an extremely special lineage. I don’t love Jupiter Ascending. But what I do love is the kid who loves this movie, watches it 100 times, cherishes it like a dirty little secret, and makes a movie of their own someday.
--Monte Monreal