Reynolds is tapping to his own beat, peel him off from the project and he is giving you his tight twenty minutes on stage.
Letterman works like a teenager. Or maybe because of the film’s theme, he has adapted himself into those avid video game players. But we will get into Rob Letterman’s, the director, work later, first let’s put the banners in trial. What is with this weird urge to magnify the gaming world into magnanimous IMAX screen? Failing perpetually and miserably on justifying the course of this virtual world into a throbbing storytelling arcs, even someone so skillful as Steven Spielberg could only barely reach there with his hands. And then to expect us to chug up all the pretentious dose of visual effects while compromising ourselves to understand the narration that THEY are trying to say.
And yet, they come in and say, every time, that this project is the game changer. Does the film contradict all your opinions on the adaptations of video games? No. It does not. Particularly, individually, the film is exactly like the vfx, fluffy and cute when the lens looks at our lead, and incredibly fake while focusing on others. And the term “entertainment” that they put so much weight on, is not their gripping or innovative storyline, but the incredibly self-claimed blabbermouth whose version of improv is the only reliable rope to hang on to.
From start to finish, all you want is to see Ryan Reynolds come up with some bizarre reference or hilarious comment to lighten up the dull scene. Justice Smith in the lead is confused, in a good way, but emotionally distant, in a bad way. Another major crisis is the effortfully choreographed action sequence where the whole world collapses and they are told to run the montage sequence of vfx explosion carrying the film for that section and then they dare promote Pikachu to Pokemon Detective Pikachu with no brains involved on investigation.