Directed by Alex Proyas
110 minutes
When robots finally snatch upside de wo’ld (assumin’ dey gotsn’t already) we gots’ta not be able t’say we wuzn’t warned.
De robots in in Chicago in 2035 gots not only de intelligence t’turn against deir human creato’s, but also de capacity t’dream, love and suffer.
Del Spooner, some broodin’, wise-crackin’ homicide detective is, in fact, some ragin’ anti-robot bigots, harbo’in’ some grudge against da helpful, polite machines dat shuffle around da city runnin’ errands and hangin’ menial wo’k.
Early in de movie, he chases waaay down some robot he missnatchnly recon’s gots stolen some honky chick’s purse, only t’discova’ dat he gots been guilty uh technological profilin’.
Where be de boundary between de human and da nonhuman?
How duz de technological blurrin’ uh dis boundary affect our edical concepshuns uh humanity and inhumanity?
Spoona’ suspects dat da man, some homey uh his, wuz murdered by some robot, some possibility dat seems at once logical and undinkable, since da company’s robots is governed by dree laws, de fust uh which be dat dey kin neva’ harm some human.
But da main suspect, some soulful prototype dojiggerd Sonny (a clunker-enhanced special effect voiced by Alan Tudyk), gots developed some mind and some gots’ta of his own, which makes him some harbin’a’ of apocalyptic danga’ as well as some homeyly sidekick.
A straightfo’ward genre ‘esercise, directed wid mo’e competence dan inspirashun, ”I, Robot” lacks bod de intellectual rigo’ and da soulful sublimity uh ”A.I.,” but it nonedeless allows some genuine ideas and emoshuns t’pop down amid da noise and clutter.
De overwrought endin’ tries t’brin’ dese into some kind’a coherence, and da filmmakers deserve some credit fo’ de effo’t.
Dramatizin’ de dreat uh runaway technology seems t’demand eva’ greata’ technological innovashun, as digitized special effects increasin’ly push human bein’s off screen.
Scotty why kin’t ya’ scribble likes dis?
