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Finally a movie about my kind of people, the genetically superior. When I was first engineered, my parents wanted to create the ultimate in a movie critic. One man whose opinion was respected the world over as being, quite simply, correct. In Gattaca, a hot new sci-fi epic, Uma Thurman is genetically superior to... well, just about everyone, wouldn't you say? See, here's the thing. Ethan Hawke is, somehow, genetically inferior. OK, I have a problem with any guy being called inferior when women drool over his every word. This is Ethan Hawke we're talking about. The man's a Greek God come to life! I mean if he's inferior, what are the rest of us? I mean you guys, of course. I'm naturally superior regardless. Anyway. Ethan Hawke has been faking his identity for a few years and now he's about to be found out. Hence the drama. What this movie really does for me, is introduce a prejudice that, as far as I'm concerned, is a long time coming. The prejudice against the inferior. Being better than most people, I've often wanted to simply look down upon the idiots of the world. Yet for some reason, I'm not allowed to be haughty. Where's the fun of having an advanced intellect when you can't rub it in on the peons? Finally, Gattaca shows us what it's going to be like, and I for one can't wait. Bring it on! If nothing else, it leads to a great moment when Uma pulls out a hair, hands it to Ethan to scan and says "Call me if you're still interested." Now we're talking selective breeding! Of course, the entire moment is ruined by the fact that this is Uma. If Ethan decides against her, he's not only genetically inferior to you and me, but to various forms of mold and fungus as well. Great jobs all around, but for me, the picture just never really took off. Yeah it was fun, it was neat. But if this was a movie about genetic cloning and such, where were the sheep? Boy, I just read what I wrote in the last paragraph and I think it's safe to say I should never again try to write these reviews in the middle of the premiere parties. Let that be a lesson to you kids, don't write after three martinis. Bad things happen. In Gattaca, for example, every time someone gets near alcohol, some disaster strikes. I'm serious. It's a good look at one of the horrors of our modern world. Drinking is bad. Well not all drinking, I mean water is pretty good for you, as is orange juice and milk, unless you're lactose intolerant. 7-Up isn't so bad, although the jury's out on Sprite and Mountain Dew. But beer is bad. At least until a time when I am being paid to endorse a product of some kind. And gin, well that's just liquid mulch. See what I mean about writing after cocktails? Anyway, Gattaca. It's a lot like a tree. You figure it out. I give it 3 Babylons. Seems like the least amount of work for me to explain. I have to go now, Uma's pouring me another martini, and who am I to say no? I love being me. Editor's Note: Somewhere, someday, when he least expects it: I'm going to kill that man. Gattaca |
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