Science fiction has always been difficult to portray in films – and not because filmmakers are less intelligent than men of science.
Rather, it has been because of the difficulty in using a visual medium to explore the possible consequences of scientific change. Great sci-fi films show how our acquiescence to the inevitability of progress could result in a world that we neither understand nor could control.
These successful sci-fi films ponder universal themes. Steven Spielberg’s “Minority Report” considered determinism and free will; Andrew Niccol’s “Gattaca” focused on eugenics; Mamoru Oshii’s “Ghost in the Shell” meditated on human consciousness.
But even when it is impossible for films to delve into philosophical fishing trips, filmmakers have always resorted to pyrotechnics and action-packed sequences to maintain an audience’s attention. Most sci-fi films fall within this zone. The “Terminator” series, “Paycheck” and “I, Robot” being typical examples.
Given the low bar of entry into the genre, it is rare to find a sci-fi film that lacks both intellect and incendiary.
“Jumper” is such a film.
“Jumper,” loosely adapted from Stephen Gould’s novel of the same title, is about David Rice, a boy who discovers his gift for teleportation, or jumping.
In the novel, he flees home to New York after his drunken dad assaults him.
Unlike the book, where Davy is the lone jumper, the film has David discover that he is part of a primeval race engaged in an eternal battle against vicious enemies known as Paladins.
The premise is full of promise, but the film disappoints in its execution. On every cinematic metric, “Jumper” failed to register the slightest presence, remaining instead a hodge-podge of related images and sounds.
Jumper’s horrendous performances, undistinguished script, absence of causality and incomprehension of the morality of characters, show there is more to making a good film than Super Bowl advertising.
The cast was unable to rise to the level the roles demanded – and that was shallow water.
Samuel L. Jackson was unbearable as Roland Cox, the honcho Paladin; never has an A-list actor delighted more in the wallow of B-territory.
Hayden Christensen took an antipodean route to his role by exhibiting languor for athleticism, diffidence for confidence and apathy for curiosity.
An even bigger problem than the acting was the script, especially the absence of adequate causes for effects.
Why did David run away from home? David’s dad did not wallop him and, from all appearances, was not a drunk.
How could David’s relationship with Millie be explained? If Millie had been waiting for his return, she would be dim-witted; if she was not, then she would be a loose girl.
About 10 minutes into the film, it cuts to a scene of an Asian male high-strung on a tree. Apparently, this guy must be important because a black guy with white tinted hair – obviously the villain – walks up to him, then gives a short homily, pulls out a bowie knife and stabs the person.
What provoked this ejaculation of violence?
The answer is given later. We are cursorily told “Jumpers fight Paladins. Paladins fight Jumpers. We’ve been fighting since medieval times.”
Even the ridiculed Iraq invasion had better, albeit changing, explanations.
“Jumper” also does not consider the ethics of jumping.
Should audiences applaud David’s unarmed bank robbery? With that act, how is David better than Cox? Do Jumpers have an obligation to temper teleporting for mankind’s sake? Are Jumpers human? Are they subject to our laws, or should they have their own?
The filmmakers were too busy working on special effects to bother with these trivialities.
No wonder.
In subjugating story and sense for special effects, “Jumper” delivers a corpse – an unentertaining, tedious thriller.
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Contact Freke Ette at [email protected]