Beautiful but Passionless, it Never Really Gets Off the Launchpad

Rating: 5/10 (30 January 2014)

Falling somewhere between The Hunger Games and The Last Starfighter, Ender's Game plops us down on an authoritarian, near-future Earth that's still reeling from an alien infestation some seven decades earlier. This generation's children, limited by mandate like modern-day China, dream of one day participating in the orbital war games tasked with producing the next five-star general, and our protagonist (Ender) is the cream of the crop. Though steeped in lore and a long, rich back story, just like the novel, I was taken aback by just how much screen time was devoted to laying this groundwork. Maybe I'm spoiled by recent films, such as Pacific Rim, who manage to effectively build a similar world in just a five-minute opening narrative sequence, but it seems a colossal waste of time to still be working on the preamble midway through the second act. That gives the impression that we're just getting started when, in reality, the plot is already nearing its crescendo. It's a very literal interpretation of the source, with many lines and plot points arriving verbatim from the printed page, but plays as extremely hollow and emotionally detached. Much of that can be attributed to Ender himself, an admittedly nuanced, complicated character that fails to make a graceful transition to the screen. Despite spotting several flashes of myself in his actions, I never empathized with him as an individual, nor did I like him on a basic level. This is a production that deserves points for tackling an extremely difficult property - I was sure the scenes of the game itself would make or break it, when they did neither - but one that, apart from a thoroughly excellent visual effort, falls just short of the mark in every way. It's not a bad effort, but the lack of warmth, depth and power leaves it with a stiflingly bland flavor.
Fresh thoughts after a recent re-watch (9/2019):
This long-simmering adaptation of an award winning sci-fi classic stays loyal to its source material, but loses a ton of emotion in the translation. Its version of a future Earth, one generation removed from near-extinction at the hands of an invading alien fleet, isn't a particularly romantic one, but that doesn't mean it has to be this joyless. Everything's so dry and analytical, every plot point over-explained and talked to death, while the book's most exciting chapters are merely skimmed.
Where we get them, the special effects come through exceptionally well. The game room, where the planet's unified military force trains its cadets for interstellar combat, doesn't look exactly like I'd imagined, but still makes for a rich scene or two. Space launches have immense power and impact. Zero gravity fight scenes play out in unique ways. There's an awful lot of untapped potential here; ideas and concepts that are properly explored in the novel, merely served as a garnish and tossed aside.
And maybe a focus on the human element could have been the right call, given the right cast to really dig in; a good script to touch on the more delicate metaphors; a capable director to pull everything together. Three strikes in that regard. With a stiff, off-putting young Asa Butterfield in the leading role, plus a disengaged Harrison Ford and a barely-there Ben Kingsley as support, nobody seems interested in picking up the ball for a run at the goal line. It's an uncertain film, one that never completely settles on an identity, and it honestly isn't much fun to watch. A missed opportunity.