Hell above and heaven below

Rating: 5/10 (21 August 2013)

Another 2013 would-be blockbuster, another disappointment. Neill Blomkamp directed the rip-roaringly splattery District 9, and he's followed it up with the PG-13 cut, with added generic elements thrown in for extra soft padding. District 9 wasn't perfect, but it was full of grim humour and oddball characters, and it was driven by a plot as wild as a rabid dog. Elysium dispenses almost entirely with humour (the sole laugh in our auditorium came two minutes from the end), throws together a bunch of bland stock characters, and its plot is as predictable as its Zimmer-lite musical score.
"This is now," says Blomkamp. His conspiracy theory: The One Percent live in a hermetically-sealed orbiting space-station, enjoying free healthcare, spending their days playing offworld golf. The rest of us are struggling in the dirt, subjected to daily stop-and-searches in the shanty towns covering the overpopulated world's surface. An avoidable accident at work leaves Max (Matt Damon) lethally irradiated. Only Elysium can save him - except he's not a citizen, so he must turn to the local gangsters for help. Max can take down "The System" and save the world. And off he goes, amped to the... err... max inside an Iron Man-style exoskeleton.
There are really bad things about the film. Jodie Foster, an actor I thought incapable of being poor, puts in agonising performance as Jessica Delacourt, her movements twitchy, her delivery uncertain, and her accent visiting every corner of the globe. She's not helped by the script, whose dialogue ranges from the banal to the excruciating, and which is dominated by contrivances, coincidences, and unclear motivations.
Damon is fine in a hero role he could do in his sleep - which, given the amount of time Max spends on his knees or unconscious, is practically what he does. When he clunks into spasms of action the movie briefly comes alive. But while the action scenes have weight and some imagination, they are mostly shot in the infuriating hand-held style, combined with hyperactive editing, which makes them difficult to follow.
If ever there was a movie that was screaming out for Paul Verhoeven to come along and inject some wit, energy, and clarity, it's this one. There are themes in this movie, but they aren't explored, they're presented - or, worse, preached. What could have been simple, satirical super-hybrid face-off in the vein of Battle Angel Alita turns out to be another drab appeal to the senses, none of which are stimulated, with or without neural implants.