Insurgent
Like Cameron’s “AVATAR” (2009) and Blomkamp’s “ELYSIUM” (2013) the veneer on “INSURGENT” is hip, high-concept, mucho-bucks Tomorrowland. Going along for the improbable sci-fi ride, the rhetoric mouthed is incidentally, subtly leftist. That it’s a dystopia with a ruined Earth in the immediate background --here, in the form of only slightly molested Chicago tropes, buildings charred and forfeit of inhabitants, famed Chicago riverbed a Sargasso of wrecks and mess -- is supposed to incur our immediate sympathy. It doesn’t. The director forgot to include emotional truth in the mis en scene, so we watch it, but do not relate to it in any empathic, meaningful way.
Caution: If you didn’t read the book or see the first go-round, you won’t get too much of what’s going on unless your powers of deduction and fast math are superior.
This film, second in the franchise (after last year’s so-so “DIVERGENT”) hyped and obviously a videogame, though it hails from the book by VEeronica roth, cost bazillions ($110 million to produce, $25 million more than “DIVERGENT” cost), has a fistful of top stars (Naomi Watts in brown hair as the too-young-to-be-accurate mother of Four, played by a monosyllabic Theo James, Kate Winslet in tight French knot, the hullabulloo’ed Shailene Woodley, even the terrific Miles Teller -- as snaky turncoat Peter, here -- from “WHIPLASH,” as well as sundry others), amazing CGI, and the recent technical tympani-blowing advent of Dolby ATMOS (surround-sound under, around, even over your head). The PR campaign, alone, put the studio $50 million poorer.
This time, though director Robert Schwentke is different from the first go-round director, Neil Burger, he still tries to dazzle, though it is a vain effort, given the polenta writing and wholly underutilized talents of many if not all the stars running their paces. As a colleague opined, this sequel “tracks a deteriorating trajectory.” That about says it.
What’s evident, though, is this is a sporadic snore.
We were lulled and encouraged by the nice hors d’oeuvres spread and wine, cheese and sate chicken sticks beforehand -- actually always a dangerous sign that what is to come may not be as mind filling as the appetizers and beverages are stomach-filling.
But from the first, the audience giggled at ‘scary parts,’ the narrative was laughably inept and sophomoric, and the story opaque to transcendently rubbish.
The Earth is largely dunzo, with only the people in the film left on Earth, consisting of largely Caucasians, some blacks (Octavia Spencer as Joanna), and one Asian (Daniel Dae Kim as faction leader Kang), apparently. There are factions, dubbed Erudite, Abnegation, Candor and other risible adjectival inanities. One group that most survivors revile, aside from the blonde meanie played by a wasted Winslet, are Divergents. There is a handsomely scrolled and decorated box, like something a high-end Champagne magnum might come swaddled in, that only Divergents can interpret, and that seems to be the sole task of Jeanine/Winslet, in her incredibly empty day. As a supervillainess, she’s pretty, too unchallenged by her script, and not that nasty, though we see a number of people shot up close as a result of her orders.
With all that’s happening in the real world, the oblique and cautious slayings here seem clinical and unmoving.
One scene that remains after the curtain closed features the pixie-haired Woodley in a truth-serum episode. If you don’t tell the truth, you have a really painful time of it. She communicates her unwillingness to make public the truths she has hidden in the first part of this franchise, in “DIVERGENT.” She suffers prettily in the truth cage.
Aside from the frequent special effects and wowie fights indulged in by the remarkably belligerent kickass pugilist but supposedly soft-hearted Shailene Woodley as Tris, this is “Mad Max” without the grit. Scenes between Tris and Four have little resonance and no chemistry.
Even with the comestibles, the audience stood around after the closing credits chattering about the disappointment of the film, the absurdity of the script and storyline, and the overall nullity of the entire 119 minutes. When the protagonist ‘dies,’ you don’t really care, except to wonder how her boyfriend and other Divergents will get out from under Jeanine.
Even then, we don’t really care.
But it is 31 minutes shorter than its earlier incarnation. Though it feels longer, ending in an unsatisfying cliffhanger. Less interesting than the unlikely “HUNGER GAMES,” though teens evidently liked both enough to pay for sequels. By comparison, HUNGER grossed over $288 million worldwide against a budget of $85 million. Comparing the two is natural, as their storylines seem similar.
Nullity as this is, the third (and fourth) sequel will be leeching coin from young audiences in another year or so.