[img]7|left|||no_popup[/img]9 could have been an eloquent eulogy for an extinct civilization from the perspective of non-human life, ironically cast as humanity’s unwitting legacy to an otherwise dead planet. As the titular, doll-like hero gains those first glimmers of consciousness and takes hesitant steps into a world of rubble and ashen skies, the gloom of a masterfully articulated, post-apocalyptic landscape takes a firm hold. How and why the world ends is, of course, one of the film’s key mysteries, alongside other concerns such as what the dolls (dubbed “stitchpunks” by Acker) are and how it is they can be alive. But though wildly stirring the senses with stunning imagery of potent, melancholy beauty – the kind that crowns director Shane Acker with the risky title of visionary – 9 blunts with a story that gradually subjects its premise to the slow death of déjà-vu.
Here we have more could-have-beens: a rueful sci-fi meditation, an exercise in speculative history, a survival drama, a portrait of alien creatures. Instead, we get an adventure, expanded from Acker’s 2005 student film, that takes surprisingly few risks and imposes bizarre anthropomorphic ideas on the characters. One could ask why the filmmakers felt the need to assign genders, reinforced by the voice acting, to the non-biological stitchpunks. One could even ask, more pointedly, why the film resorts to implications of the traditional nuclear family in a context when even the notion of “family” is questionable. This all fits into an unfortunate reluctance to allow the stitchpunks to be alien observers, although of course the quasi-mystical nature of their creation precludes this.
By the time 9 fully embraces the video game confrontation between stitchpunks and the spider-like machine intelligence that won the last war against humans, we’ve already been subjected to mystical nonsense about souls and talismen. Though cloaked in the mantle of science gone awry, the film’s heart is rooted in alchemy, which is the same as using astrology to tell the story of a moon landing. The lesson: if you’re going to do fantasy, do fantasy – don’t make it masquerade as something it’s not. When the film’s background is finally drawn using the familiar man-vs.-machine conflict already overdone thanks to the Terminator franchise, it becomes clear that 9 has nothing useful to say about human folly. There is far too much going on in the world related to technological abuses, misguided science policy, realpolitik and war to submissively accept yet another rehash of the old.
It may seem unfair to be disappointed in a film for not living up to hypothetical should-have-beens. But despite a strong beginning and compelling development, 9 ultimately proves more of the same even in the entertainment terms of an adventure movie. Monsters attack, heroes counterattack — repeat cycle until final boss battle. Yet there is much to love. Many action scenes are superbly choreographed and absolutely riveting – there is genuine tension, thanks to the film’s willingness to allow (up to a point) for real, tragic consequences. Stitchpunks can be injured and “killed,” it seems. The monster machines, spawn of the Matrix movies and Marilyn Manson videos with a splash of Tim Burton, are delightfully, insidiously creepy. The stitchpunks themselves are fascinating little things, each different from the other in terms of personality, interests, and composition. 8 is a lumbering giant reminiscent of the Staypuft Marshmallow Man or Oogie-Boogie. 3 and 4 are hooded, book-loving twins who communicate with flashing lights and movies projected from their eyes. 9 is distinguished by a giant zipper in his torso. 7 is a bleached bird-skull wearing warrior, who moves and fights like an anime ninja.
At its best, the film is a magnificently immersive experience. But it comes with a lack of integrity. The final scene’s pandering demonstrates craven capitulation to a presumed need for a happy ending, no matter the cost to the story. The problem isn’t really that 9 ends on a hopeful note — hope is good — merely that it goes beyond what is justifiable from the setup of its apocalyptic scenario to something artificial and cloying. 9 is a sell-out, in other words, made worthwhile only by its extraordinary visual vocabulary.
Entertainment: * (out of two)
Craft: * (out of two)
9. Directed by Shane Acker. Screenplay by Pamela Pettler, from a story by Acker. With the voices of Elijah Wood, John C. Reilly, Jennifer Connelly, Christopher Plummer, Crispin Glover and Martin Landau. 79 minutes. Rated PG-13 for violence and scary images.
Frédérik invites you to discuss 9 at this blog.