Hypocritical and ill-judged mess; in which the titular Scott Pilgrim does not, in fact, take on the world but does make room for Edgar Wright to take on our patience.

Rating: 4/10 (15 August 2011)

Was Gregory's Girl as remade by Stephen Chow really what the world needed? Accomplished British director Edgar Wright's latest, the graphic novel adaptation of the same name in Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, is the frenetic; overly energetic and just generally annoying version of such a thing. Here is a needless, post-modern explosion of tricks and gimmicks; the film appearing to want to be some sort of a cautionary, screwball comedy depicting the lengths people go for those they love; the entire thing ending up an often unbearable slog which, in spite of the adult foundations, comes across as a ill-judged and immature trudge through a mire rife with very little content to get involved in and very little to actually like.
Drawing on a parallel to what the likes of respective British directors Danny Boyle and Paul McGuigan tried for in the late-nineties, Wright blurs the lines between realism and surrealism for his American audiences; enabling characters to achieve a great deal of what humans cannot often in the presence of a lot of other people whom witness it, but do not react in any great way that suggests the activity is out of the ordinary. Michael Cera, stretching his acting limitations, here plays the softly-spoken; weedy looking, although more confident than you give him credit, young man somewhere in between that of high-school, university and the beginnings of full time employment. He is named Scott Pilgrim. As the title might suggest, it is him versus the world; only, it isn't. In fact, for the bulk of the time, Wright's film features the titular character taking on a handful of ex-lovers. When it isn't doing that act, it briefly focuses on both he and his girlfriend against one other ex-lover, before further still briefly veering off to focus on that of Scott's ex-partner taking on his current one.
Living in the Canadian city of Toronto, Scott is frequently a guitarist in a band. He has recently come out of a relationship with a woman he felt a great deal for; the nature of its capitulation leading him into a tryst with that of Hmong girl Knives (Wong). The members of his band, particularly that of snotty drummer Kim (Pill), entrust it to be a façade relationship; such accusations begin to mutate into statements of truth when fiery, but underplayed in that alluring way, Ramona (Winstead) arrives with her dizzy arrays of coloured hairstyles and tendency to roller-skate around if outdoors, - Scott going on to woo her. In all intents and purposes, the character of Knives is the most interesting; prior to being dumped, her innocent demeanour and carefree attitude when she's with Scott encapsulates a universal exterior of happy-go-lucky living and enjoyment. A crucial scene sees her partake in an act which doubles up as the film's entire nucleus; specifically, when she changes her hair colour out of reaction for being ditched for Ramona and her wacky ideas in regards to hair, in what is a brief capturing of the tribulations and reactionary process one might go through for means of love; the opposite sex or attention and affection.
Unfortunaley, Wright decides to explore the thesis by way of Cera's rather arrogant and somewhat unlikable character; an exercise executed via a process of inherent boredom during which four-or-so too many fight sequences act as the centrepieces around which a bunch of offbeat sound effects, that are inexplicably taken from arcade machines of old, pepper a demented aesthetic of noise; rabid cutting and quip spouting teenagers. Principally, the film covers Scott and his quest to defeat the seven ex-partner's of Ramona – so, the girl gets around, and in this age of disturbingly high teenage pregnancy figures and societies rife with sexual infections, such a notion does not deserve to be handled with the throwaway attitude it is here. The battling of the exes is an idea which does not go on to spawn any sort of plot per-se, and instead induces a series of fight sequences in the mould of that awful video game of years past "Tekken". The fights might unfold in any order, and sadly renders Ramona's essential presence that of a prize awaiting the lead at the end of his quest.
Wright brings about these fights during occasions in which violence or hostilities of some description appear apparent: when Scott duels with Matthew Patel (Bhabha), it is at a battle of the bands meeting; when he fights film star Lucas Lee (Evans), it is immediately prior to having watched him shoot a violent scene in his latest movie, whereas the altercation with Todd (Routh, lampooning his Superman role) is a result of the fallout of an argument that they share. Depressingly, the fights largely consist of Scott up against specific groups or individuals of a marginalised sort; flitting from fighting an Indian (complete with out of place mock-Hindu dance); a bi-sexual; a vegan and two synthetic musicians of Japanese nationality, in what is itself a horrid pastiche of the wondrous sequence involving certain antagonistic harpists in Kung-fu Hustle, a film by the aforementioned Stephen Chow. Gregory's Girl it isn't; a film about grounded people with specific interests at important times in their lives coming together and desiring to interact with the opposite sex. The interactions for those people were nerve-wracking; the film subverted gender roles in ways that were refreshing: boys enjoyed culinary and girls wanted to play football. Wright's coming of age film is an abusive assault on the senses; a piece due to play like a horror film to those aged between 12 and 18 whom are yet to have much contact with the opposite sex, which means it has missed the point by a wholly unforgivable margin.