Your guide to Asheville's vibrant and diverse movie offerings.

The Electric State

The Electric State

“What if Ready Player One — but bad?”

That seems to have been the pitch for The Electric State, a confounding failure by directors Anthony and Joe Russo, whose post-MCU output has gone from mediocre (Cherry) to thrilling (The Gray Man) and now to career-worst.

Based on the graphic novel by Simon Stålenhag, the Russos and their go-to scribes Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely fumble an intriguing setting and would-be fun use of an all-star vocal cast through miserable attempts at humor, lazy action, and one of the most uninspired lead duos from the past five years (and likely more).

That would be Millie Bobby Brown and Chris Pratt, both of whom have damn near worn out their welcome in recent years by flexing their limited range with each new performance. The actors’ lack of skills are no match for even this basic hero’s quest, which takes place in an alternate past where helper/service robots originally created by Walt Disney demand rights, revolt, declare war on humans, lose the war, and are exiled in a walled off sector of the American Southwest known as the Exclusion Zone.

Skimmed over in a patronizing recap, this quasi Native American allegory is far more interesting than the action that follows, which finds orphaned Michelle (Brown) living in a post-war 1990s where, similar to Ready Player One, the bulk of global society wastes each day in virtual reality. But instead of that superior film’s pay-to-play digital world, these layabouts use Neurocasters — Severance-like technology via a chunky headset that allows half of one’s brain to experience VR bliss in the setting of their choosing, and the other half to conduct work through chunky avatar robots.

Both films also feature a tyrannical leader who’d rather people suffer than his company lose profits. But while Ben Mendelsohn’s Nolan Sorrento proves a legitimate threat to Ready Player One’s heroes, Stanley Tucci wields no such terror as Sentre CEO Ethan Skate until it's too late. 

Looking like Steve Jobs but clearly meant to be an Elon Musk stand-in, Skate is a one-dimensional character whose skills are limited to public deception. That's a pretty wild shortcoming, seeing as his sins are far more sinister than Sorrento’s.

The reveal of his depravity is about all The Electric State has going for it, though the filmmakers strain to inject our protagonists’ journey with jokes, adventure, and visual gags. Accompanied by a robot claiming to be an extension her presumed dead brother Christopher — who's also allegedly still alive — Michelle sets off across the Exclusion Zone with veteran-turned-black-market-salesman Keats (Pratt) and his sassy robot colleague Herman (voiced by Anthony Mackie).

Except there's practically no way to know it's Mackie’s voice. As with the rest of the vocal cast (with the exception of Jenny Slate’s postal carrier bot Penny Pal), his speech is altered beyond recognition, suggesting anyone could have done the job.

The same goes for robot leader Mr. Peanut (Woody Harrelson), who holes up in an abandoned mall like a sympathetic version of Jefferson Davis after surrendering to the Union. That he's the most iconic featured IP sets The Electric State apart from the hoards of recognizable characters in Ready Player One, but mostly in a knockoff way where the robots’ slight familiarity becomes distracting. Still, the Mr. Red-inspired baseball player bot Popfly (voiced by Brian Cox) is delightful and one of the few instances where the film’s jokes land.

Additional supporting players like Giancarlo Esposito’s legendary bounty hunter are too one-note to make much of an impact, while characters played by Holly Hunter and Coleman Domingo are so inconsequential that, like the voice actors, the filmmakers needn't have cast big names.

And despite arriving six years after Ready Player One and costing twice as much, The Electric State lacks the visual acumen of Steven Spielberg’s film (not to mention its emotional depth). Its cinematography issues grow glaringly clear in its ho-hum finale that accidentally (?) feels like an homage to the Gungan/battle droid battle in The Phantom Menace. And don't even inquire about its heart, because even with a slam-dunk, would-be tearjerker climax, it doesn't have one.

No wonder the Russos tucked tail and are already back in the safe arms of the MCU.

Grade: D-plus. Rated PG-13. Available to stream via Netflix.

(Photo: Netflix)

Opus

Opus