Based on Bryan Lee O'Malley's comic, Scott Pilgrim vs The World is an audacious comedy, a middling action picture, and a generally fun experience. Too bad about the music though, especially since so much of the movie is about Sex Bob-omb, Scott's band, and their attempt to bravely sell out. It's easy to be a rockin' band on the comic panel, but when the medium involves actual audio...
The story is in the trailer—Michael Cera is Scott Pilgrim, playing the usual Ceraesaque character in that he is total nebbish who inexplicably lands hot girlfriend after hot girlfriend. His latest catch is Ramona, the quirky, punky, mystery girl. (Mary Elizabeth Winstead, much prettier here with short hair than she was in Death Proof.) But then, aren't all women a mystery to young men in their twenties, men just a few years removed from Pokémon cards and PlayStation? Well not removed from such things as so much as living in then, for Scott Pilgrim vs The World takes its cues very directly from the comic panel, and from video games and anime. Such attempts at slavish reproduction of a comic fail miserably when the material is serious and portentous—Sin City and The 300 anyone?—but work to superb effect here, as to get Ramona Scott has to battle her seven evil exes with an array of video game abilities and punching combos. And he does.
But there are complications—Scott's ex is a big star now, and his current girl Knives Chau (Ellen Wong in a show stealing performance) is a mere high schooler who never kissed a boy. And another ex, Kim (Allison Pill, paid to stare at the camera), is in the band, but Scott mostly shares his bed with his gay roommate Wallace (Kiernan Culkin, all grown up). And to further pad out the film, there are still more characters—Scott has a sister, and then there's Julie, a foul-mouthed acquaintance with a million different jobs. These are played by Anna Kendrick and Aubrey Plaza respectively, and both are utterly wasted. Christ, flip a coin, give one of them the combined role, and she can have twice the lines. Then we can get this movie movin'! (More Aubrey please.)
The fights come along soon enough, though seven exes—and some of the exes have henchmen—is a bit much. Director Edgar Wright has a sense of this, so really only the first battle ends with fisticuffs. Another ex is done away with by the Vegan police, for example, for daring to drink half-and-half. (This robs him of his psychic powers!) The female ex is dispatched via orgasm. A pair of the exes are twins, which should have been enough for someone during a story meeting to say, "Okay, fewer exes for Ramona. Or for Scott. Or for somebody."
Scott himself isn't all that likable—he's a whiny man-child. Sort of like Juno in Juno. Actually this whole movie can be seen as Juno for boys—even hipster girls like love and babies; even hipster boys like punching someone so hard they shatter into a pile of video game coins! It's all wish-fulfillment, but I was mostly just wishing for Jesse Eisenberg.
Ramona has trouble written all over her as well, and doesn't have much to offer anyone except deep eyes and frilly panties. No wonder all her exes are evil. If the film wasn't full of wacky bits—the Seinfeld music, video game scoring, comic book panels, visible sound effects, kooky reaction shots, etc etc.—Scott Pilgrim vs The World would be a movie about two sociopaths who rob every Hot Topic in town before being gunned down by mall cops in the final reel. And the audience would nod once, say, "Good," and leave the theater before the credits started rolling.
But Scott Pilgrim is full of wacky jokes and asides, and that's what makes the movie work. In a world where nobody reads, talks to their parents, goes to college, has a boss, or pays a bill, what fills the void left by the basics of everyday life except for power pop, text messaging, and soft drinks? (Coke Zero is the obnoxious product placement here.) Scott Pilgrim a movie about a scene, a zany wacky scene of cute friends and evil enemies with thick nerd-cool glasses and hotter girlfriends than you'll ever know.
Jason Schwartzman is the apotheosis of hipster casting as Final Boss Gideon Gordon Graves. When he finally shows up, the movie is made. He's so slimy we suddenly understand why Sex Bob-omb has a shot at the big time—he can't tell a good song from a bad one; he just has the right look, the right style, and the right magical katana. Sadly, Beck probably didn't write mediocre songs for this film on purpose. Edgar Wright, born in 1974, likely has no idea what the kids are really listening to these days. He does, however, know the content of their hormone-addled daydreams, and Scott and Ramona are it. For that thin slice of adolescent and late bloomer, Scott Pilgrim vs The World isn't s film, it's a guide to life and not-quite-growing up.
The story is in the trailer—Michael Cera is Scott Pilgrim, playing the usual Ceraesaque character in that he is total nebbish who inexplicably lands hot girlfriend after hot girlfriend. His latest catch is Ramona, the quirky, punky, mystery girl. (Mary Elizabeth Winstead, much prettier here with short hair than she was in Death Proof.) But then, aren't all women a mystery to young men in their twenties, men just a few years removed from Pokémon cards and PlayStation? Well not removed from such things as so much as living in then, for Scott Pilgrim vs The World takes its cues very directly from the comic panel, and from video games and anime. Such attempts at slavish reproduction of a comic fail miserably when the material is serious and portentous—Sin City and The 300 anyone?—but work to superb effect here, as to get Ramona Scott has to battle her seven evil exes with an array of video game abilities and punching combos. And he does.
But there are complications—Scott's ex is a big star now, and his current girl Knives Chau (Ellen Wong in a show stealing performance) is a mere high schooler who never kissed a boy. And another ex, Kim (Allison Pill, paid to stare at the camera), is in the band, but Scott mostly shares his bed with his gay roommate Wallace (Kiernan Culkin, all grown up). And to further pad out the film, there are still more characters—Scott has a sister, and then there's Julie, a foul-mouthed acquaintance with a million different jobs. These are played by Anna Kendrick and Aubrey Plaza respectively, and both are utterly wasted. Christ, flip a coin, give one of them the combined role, and she can have twice the lines. Then we can get this movie movin'! (More Aubrey please.)
The fights come along soon enough, though seven exes—and some of the exes have henchmen—is a bit much. Director Edgar Wright has a sense of this, so really only the first battle ends with fisticuffs. Another ex is done away with by the Vegan police, for example, for daring to drink half-and-half. (This robs him of his psychic powers!) The female ex is dispatched via orgasm. A pair of the exes are twins, which should have been enough for someone during a story meeting to say, "Okay, fewer exes for Ramona. Or for Scott. Or for somebody."
Scott himself isn't all that likable—he's a whiny man-child. Sort of like Juno in Juno. Actually this whole movie can be seen as Juno for boys—even hipster girls like love and babies; even hipster boys like punching someone so hard they shatter into a pile of video game coins! It's all wish-fulfillment, but I was mostly just wishing for Jesse Eisenberg.
Ramona has trouble written all over her as well, and doesn't have much to offer anyone except deep eyes and frilly panties. No wonder all her exes are evil. If the film wasn't full of wacky bits—the Seinfeld music, video game scoring, comic book panels, visible sound effects, kooky reaction shots, etc etc.—Scott Pilgrim vs The World would be a movie about two sociopaths who rob every Hot Topic in town before being gunned down by mall cops in the final reel. And the audience would nod once, say, "Good," and leave the theater before the credits started rolling.
But Scott Pilgrim is full of wacky jokes and asides, and that's what makes the movie work. In a world where nobody reads, talks to their parents, goes to college, has a boss, or pays a bill, what fills the void left by the basics of everyday life except for power pop, text messaging, and soft drinks? (Coke Zero is the obnoxious product placement here.) Scott Pilgrim a movie about a scene, a zany wacky scene of cute friends and evil enemies with thick nerd-cool glasses and hotter girlfriends than you'll ever know.
Jason Schwartzman is the apotheosis of hipster casting as Final Boss Gideon Gordon Graves. When he finally shows up, the movie is made. He's so slimy we suddenly understand why Sex Bob-omb has a shot at the big time—he can't tell a good song from a bad one; he just has the right look, the right style, and the right magical katana. Sadly, Beck probably didn't write mediocre songs for this film on purpose. Edgar Wright, born in 1974, likely has no idea what the kids are really listening to these days. He does, however, know the content of their hormone-addled daydreams, and Scott and Ramona are it. For that thin slice of adolescent and late bloomer, Scott Pilgrim vs The World isn't s film, it's a guide to life and not-quite-growing up.