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"[Science fiction]
is not about reality, it is about sharpening
our understanding of reality."
- Brian Aldiss
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The mark of a good science fiction film is that
it is not consciously aware that it's sci-fi. The
fantastic elements make up the window-dressing,
rather than the content, of the film. Movies like
the Star Wars saga and Dark City get
this right; these movies are essentially fantasies
with a futuristic element, with special effects
used as a tool to tell a strong story. The Matrix,
for all its critical praise, gets it only half-right;
so in love with its own style, The Matrix manages
to (mostly) cover up an extremely run-of-the-mill
Chosen One storyline in black PVC and submachine
guns.
Minority Report is just such a sci-fi
film, superior in all regards because it uses
the functions of science fiction just to make
us believe in its basic premise -- the idea of
"pre-crime," where a person may be stopped
just before they commit murder, thanks to the
help of psychics, or "Precogs" -- and
then becomes strictly a story about humans, about
consequences, and about choice. Steven Spielberg,
arguably the cinematic king of sci fi, wisely
uses some of the most extravagant effects and
cityscapes right upfront. Our defenses are lowered,
our cynicism put behind us, and once that business
is out of the way, Minority Report becomes
all about story and character. And always, that
central question lurks at the heart of every scene:
Just because we're reasonably sure a person will
commit a crime, does that give us a right to arrest
him while he is still innocent? I'm not so sure.
For those of you who have been trapped in the
Andes mountains since last fall, I will briefly
recap the film.
Set in 2054, John Anderton (Tom Cruise, sympathetic
but not overly charismatic, which is the right
choice) is the captain of an experimental crimefighting
division in Washington, D.C. called the Department
of Pre-Crime. With the help of the Precogs --
a trio of androgynous, eerie-looking people, treated
more as elaborate computers than actual humans
-- the DOPC tracks down murders just before they
occur, relying on the visions of the psychics
to validate busting a potential murderer before
they actually commit a crime.
There's a public vote coming on whether or not
Pre-Crime would be a valid law enforcement tool
nationwide, and the Justice Department sends in
a perhaps too-eager agent by the name of Danny
Witwer (Colin Farrell, who transcends an already
well-written role) to investigate potential flaws.
Human flaws, Witwer is quick to specify,
while engaging in a staredown with Anderton.
When the precogs name the next pre-meditated
murder, Anderton is shocked to find that he himself
is the man who is to commit it -- and further,
he is destined to kill a man he's never met. In
the blink of an eye, the system Anderton brought
to realization is now turning against him, and
hope only lies in the most talented of the Precog
trio, a tense, haunted woman named Agatha. Her
memory may very well house the titular minority
report -- the lone voice of dissent in the vision
of Anderton's future murder.
Broken into its component parts, the storyline of
Minority Report comes off as nothing more
than a murder-mystery with a unique sci fi twist.
Put in the hands of a less capable director or leading
man, it would be precisely that. But no, this movie
is smart -- it engages you to think, rather than
just talking at you. By giving us believable, sympathetic
characters and smart dialogue, we are drawn completely
into this futuristic world. No special effect can
ever match the power of a strong story.
I could go on and on (and on) about the quality
of Minority Report, but if I go much longer
I fear I will lapse into repetition. Simply put,
Minority Report is the best movie of the year, and
to keep you away from it a moment longer would be
a grave disservice. |
