Satisfying blockbuster

Rating: 7/10 (1 April 2014)

Despite a final act that isn't quite up to par, this is one of the most satisfying blockbusters in recent memory. A supposed miracle cure for cancer has wiped out Earth's population, except for scientist/soldier Robert Neville (Will Smith), who's immune to the virus, and a genetically mutated species of "darkness seekers," hairless vampire-zombies that roam free at night. The best sections of the movie simply document Smith and his German shepherd passing the time in a deserted New York City, hunting deer on the barren streets, hitting golf balls from the wings of fighter jets, and checking out videos from the local shop. The eeriness of being the last human in a city built to sustain a population of millions is acutely evoked, allowing us to absorb the situation's enormity through long takes, panoramic shots that dwarf Smith in his environment, absence of music, and the absolutely brilliant integration of production design (shot on location) and special effects to present a hollowed-out metropolis littered with empty cars, wild animals, and buildings submerged in water (seeing this in IMAX increased my appreciation tenfold). Reminiscent of the abandoned London in 28 Days Later, yet it doesn't feel derivative in the slightest. By the time the story opens, Smith has already developed a routine and familiarity with his surroundings, so we're watching a man who has fashioned a degree of normality from chaos, which is strangely more unsettling than if we were to witness him waking up to a changed world. Smith is altogether fantastic portraying a man of active intelligence whose faith in finding a cure slowly crumbles due to tragedies that consume his soul and all-consuming loneliness (his complete meltdown in a video store is a lesson in how to show turning-point despair without going over the top). The dog playing his companion Sam deserves a large degree of credit as well, essentially standing in for Smith's daughter—a metaphor completed by the daughter handing the puppy off before departing—and making the human-dog interactions touching and indelibly sad; it reminded me, in a small way, of how the adults in Children of Men kept trinkets and dolls to help them remember and to assuage their loss.
However, the film isn't just a poignant character study: Lawrence delivers skillful suspense in Smith's daylight encounter with a pitch-black zombie hovel that relies more on anticipation than effect. At the beginning of this review, I mentioned that I was somewhat disappointed with the ending. The movie works so well as an isolated survivor tale that the introduction of a mother and son from a Vermont colony felt like an unwelcome intrusion (it doesn't help that their characterizations are perfunctory compared to Smith's three-dimensional one). Then, the film imparts an element of religious faith that at first appears forced, but leads to Smith's last mortal act that is more hopeless and despairing the more one reflects upon it. Although the God-fearing mother's voice-over ends the movie on an optimistic note, consider two things: the futile look Smith gives the uncomprehending, glass-bashing zombie when Smith realizes the sick don't want to be cured; and, therefore, for whom is the new vaccine intended if not for the sick? If the already immune possess the cure, then what purpose does its existence serve? Factoring in the challenges to the audience represented by the minimalist, experiential narrative, and the emphasis on observation rather than visceral force, the irony present in the seemingly clean wrap-up seems like one more challenge to look beyond the obvious. Even if not entirely successful, I'm grateful for the attempt.