The film's central flaw is spending a huge amount of time setting up a big "twist" that you could easily guess from seeing the trailer, reading a vague summary in your local newspaper, or possibly just knowing the title of the movie. For at least an hour, you get the whole "Utopian society" scenario, with everyone wearing matching jumpsuits and Reebok shoes, with the potential conflict brewing ever-so-slowly when one of the drones begins to "question the rules." The setup is so hugely indebted to Logan's Run that I began wondering whether Michael Bay was either pulling our collective leg, or whether he actually assumed none of us would notice the well-worn sci-fi clichés. No winking in-jokes to be found, I desperately sought signs of parody or any kind of acknowledgement that we've seen this kind of thing millions of times before. But no, as with every Michael Bay film, it's as though the director believes no other films need exist, since he's offering the definitive treatment. Things pick up nicely when the aforementioned drone (Ewan MacGregor) makes his escape, along with Scarlett Johansson (who looks more than a bit silly wearing FutureFashion™). Now, I must say, though, it kind of didn't matter what happened in The Island, as Ewan MacGregor and Scarlett Johansson doing ANYTHING on-screen together would be extremely easy to look at. So, like everyone, I wish The Island had been a Ewan-and-Scarlett sex tape instead, but I can't say I particularly minded watching them go through the motions while everything exploded around them. There's absolutely nothing new in The Island, but there are some amazing car-chase scenes, some good humor (mostly courtesy MacGregor, who manages to be graceful and honest even in something as contrived as this), and a pace that simply refuses to let up. It's pure formula (you're cued to be "excited" whenever the techno-tribal drums start; you're cued to feel "sympathetic" whenever the wailing-Middle-Eastern-singing comes in), but as with Similac, some formulas need an extra kick or they're just too bland … this is why I spike my son's Similac with Niacin and Ecstacy. There are at least two endings too many, and the "big climax" (a "creator-vs.-creation" showdown in which the two are literally bound together) is downright insulting. The whole "man shouldn't play God" theme was served up with more subtlety in, like, House of Frankenstein. Now, after spending more than two hours looking at Scarlett Johansson and Ewan MacGregor, I need to go masturbate for like twenty straight weeks.
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