Scott Pilgrim. Ok.
When I was 22, I was working on graduating college and I was a little slow. My prospects weren't good, and they wouldn't be for another few years, actually. The economy was tanking, I didn't have a lot of experience, and my car had just exploded in a ball of smoke and steam on the side of the road on the way to morning classes a few months ago. I was a mess of neurosis, the frays that would destroy my relationship with my long time girl friend were beginning to show, and most of my friends were slacker drunks.
I've grown as a person an awful lot in the last several years. I mention it as an exercise in perspective. Before I went to see Scott Pilgrim, I'd been spoiled on it a bit by the internet-o-sphere reviews and just general nerd talk. There's a general consensus that the Scott Pilgrim of the film* isn't really an admirable character. He's a post-college, 22 year old unemployed slacker who's redeeming qualities are the ability to throw down and willingness to play bass in a garage band. He's awkward! He's not conventionally attractive! He's selfish! He's dating a minor!
So I wanted to provide perspective for a movie where reviews don't seem to offer any. I'm throwing the fictional Scott a proverbial bone. The early 20's have become a tough time for a lot of us, and that's more or less what this movie's about. The ridiculous fights are the clearest metaphor in the movie, and while they're literally happening to Scott, they figuratively happen to us in the real world all the time.**
It's easy to be dazzled, or at least overwhelmed by the sheer amount of obvious references, the flashy, video game inspired kung-fu fights, the pop up boxes, visual indicators, and occasional dry wit. It obviously has a target demographic, and some reviewers with pre-conceptions about comics, video games, and the consumers thereof bring those prejudices to the table. I can go on about how amateur that kind of screw up is, but I'll let Linda Holmes do that for me.
So, how is it? Well, the core story feels a little rushed in the beginning, and I felt the message was so obvious as to fall into heavy-handed, which is primarily saved by how earnest it feels and the lamp-shaded delivery of Michael Cera who, at one point is standing by himself at a juncture which is very nearly too late and simply says, "... I feel like I learned something!" The moment's rightfully played for laughs, successfully, but it's also a major turning point which turns what appeared to be a one-off joke into something akin to redemption.
Those video game references also have a point, as opposed to being just throw away jokes or pandering references to things geeks love. Video games, comics, and music arn't just things that geeks do, but for the 20-30 crowd, have become pervasive cultural touchstones. They're part of how we navigate the world, and when video game logic and physical impossibilities become the literal physics of the Scott Pilgrim world, we laugh, but the movie never pauses to explain why defeated foes burst into coins, if this is some kind of literal, irreparable violence (or if these people just respawn a few hours later with a headache and exp loss), or why a shoe-gazing, bass playing slacker is able to take (and dish out) such massive physical punishment; that's just the way of things.
In a reversal from normal circumstances, what is a metaphor for us is literal for them, and vice-versa, which is a fun trick to play.
The non-stop nature of the gags, references, and being forced to condense 7 evil ex battles into 2 hours might take its toll on people not trained since birth to deal with those kind of stimuli. The information packed into scenes looks light but is actually surprisingly sophisticated and dense. There are subtle references to more serious relationship issues like emotional and physical abuse.
Scott is a protagonist who can be kind of frustrating at times, but can be surprisingly easy to identify with. He's not malicious, he just isn't very inward looking. He's insecure in this movie, but Michael Cera actually plays him with occasional depth, though he was cast because he's a bit typecast at this point, and he ends up being 'another Michael Cera character'. If that's frustrating, there's always Wallace, the boyfriend-stealing 'cool, gay roommate' who delivers his lines with a delightfully understated deadpan whether he's warning Scott of mortal danger ("Look out! It's that guy.") or evicting him from the bed for the night.***
It's sure to be a hit with people who've grown up with all those flashing icons and little musical notes, and it's a nod to a specific generation that tends to get shit on enough that they've composed their own validation and somewhat insular society but there are plenty of instances where it transcends that demographic. The fight scenes are great and the overall story is pretty solid, even if the pacing in the beginning feels rushed, and kind of forced. Characters that seem like they should have had more time don't get it, due to having to cram 6 books into one film, which is extremely noticeable in some cases.
I'm kind of nitpicking, because I had a great time. If you read this, I think you'll like it quite a lot.
* I haven't read the comics, but 1-3 are on their way to my home as we speak.
** Actually, Brian Lee O'Malley has something to say about that, re: intentions. I understand that referring to an authors intentions can be problematic, but also typically informative. Given the transparency found in the movie, I don't think that this should be complicating in this case.
*** It's not like that, but here's some fodder for our slash writer community.
When I was 22, I was working on graduating college and I was a little slow. My prospects weren't good, and they wouldn't be for another few years, actually. The economy was tanking, I didn't have a lot of experience, and my car had just exploded in a ball of smoke and steam on the side of the road on the way to morning classes a few months ago. I was a mess of neurosis, the frays that would destroy my relationship with my long time girl friend were beginning to show, and most of my friends were slacker drunks.
I've grown as a person an awful lot in the last several years. I mention it as an exercise in perspective. Before I went to see Scott Pilgrim, I'd been spoiled on it a bit by the internet-o-sphere reviews and just general nerd talk. There's a general consensus that the Scott Pilgrim of the film* isn't really an admirable character. He's a post-college, 22 year old unemployed slacker who's redeeming qualities are the ability to throw down and willingness to play bass in a garage band. He's awkward! He's not conventionally attractive! He's selfish! He's dating a minor!
So I wanted to provide perspective for a movie where reviews don't seem to offer any. I'm throwing the fictional Scott a proverbial bone. The early 20's have become a tough time for a lot of us, and that's more or less what this movie's about. The ridiculous fights are the clearest metaphor in the movie, and while they're literally happening to Scott, they figuratively happen to us in the real world all the time.**
It's easy to be dazzled, or at least overwhelmed by the sheer amount of obvious references, the flashy, video game inspired kung-fu fights, the pop up boxes, visual indicators, and occasional dry wit. It obviously has a target demographic, and some reviewers with pre-conceptions about comics, video games, and the consumers thereof bring those prejudices to the table. I can go on about how amateur that kind of screw up is, but I'll let Linda Holmes do that for me.
So, how is it? Well, the core story feels a little rushed in the beginning, and I felt the message was so obvious as to fall into heavy-handed, which is primarily saved by how earnest it feels and the lamp-shaded delivery of Michael Cera who, at one point is standing by himself at a juncture which is very nearly too late and simply says, "... I feel like I learned something!" The moment's rightfully played for laughs, successfully, but it's also a major turning point which turns what appeared to be a one-off joke into something akin to redemption.
Those video game references also have a point, as opposed to being just throw away jokes or pandering references to things geeks love. Video games, comics, and music arn't just things that geeks do, but for the 20-30 crowd, have become pervasive cultural touchstones. They're part of how we navigate the world, and when video game logic and physical impossibilities become the literal physics of the Scott Pilgrim world, we laugh, but the movie never pauses to explain why defeated foes burst into coins, if this is some kind of literal, irreparable violence (or if these people just respawn a few hours later with a headache and exp loss), or why a shoe-gazing, bass playing slacker is able to take (and dish out) such massive physical punishment; that's just the way of things.
In a reversal from normal circumstances, what is a metaphor for us is literal for them, and vice-versa, which is a fun trick to play.
The non-stop nature of the gags, references, and being forced to condense 7 evil ex battles into 2 hours might take its toll on people not trained since birth to deal with those kind of stimuli. The information packed into scenes looks light but is actually surprisingly sophisticated and dense. There are subtle references to more serious relationship issues like emotional and physical abuse.
Scott is a protagonist who can be kind of frustrating at times, but can be surprisingly easy to identify with. He's not malicious, he just isn't very inward looking. He's insecure in this movie, but Michael Cera actually plays him with occasional depth, though he was cast because he's a bit typecast at this point, and he ends up being 'another Michael Cera character'. If that's frustrating, there's always Wallace, the boyfriend-stealing 'cool, gay roommate' who delivers his lines with a delightfully understated deadpan whether he's warning Scott of mortal danger ("Look out! It's that guy.") or evicting him from the bed for the night.***
It's sure to be a hit with people who've grown up with all those flashing icons and little musical notes, and it's a nod to a specific generation that tends to get shit on enough that they've composed their own validation and somewhat insular society but there are plenty of instances where it transcends that demographic. The fight scenes are great and the overall story is pretty solid, even if the pacing in the beginning feels rushed, and kind of forced. Characters that seem like they should have had more time don't get it, due to having to cram 6 books into one film, which is extremely noticeable in some cases.
I'm kind of nitpicking, because I had a great time. If you read this, I think you'll like it quite a lot.
* I haven't read the comics, but 1-3 are on their way to my home as we speak.
** Actually, Brian Lee O'Malley has something to say about that, re: intentions. I understand that referring to an authors intentions can be problematic, but also typically informative. Given the transparency found in the movie, I don't think that this should be complicating in this case.
*** It's not like that, but here's some fodder for our slash writer community.