Posted: 07/20/2004

I, Robot

(2004)

by D. Patrick Seitz

Alex Proyas tries to have the best of both worlds with I, Robot, his summer blockbuster inspired by the ideas and writing of sci-fi great Isaac Asimov.

I, Robot isn’t a great movie, nor is it a horrible movie. It’s the sort of film that you’ll watch once willingly enough, but might balk at buying a ticket for the second time. It’s a decent enough sci-fi flick, the box office success of which will probably crowbar open the Hollywood sci-fi door another few inches, for good or ill.

In a sense, watching I, Robot is like cutting through a big department store on your way to the adjacent mall’s food court: You’re accosted by a variety of sights and smells, neither spectacular nor hideous, all of which you’ve mostly forgotten by the time you’ve reached Panda Express.

Will Smith plays Del Spooner, a cop in 2035 Chicago with a problem with robots — which are ubiquitous and occupy a decidedly “back of the bus” position on the social ladder. His dislike of robots is marginally tolerated by those around him, who view it as anything from a knee-jerk eccentricity to something approaching racism. The filmmakers go for the “Lookit! A black guy being racist!” angle, but it fails for lack of logic. Spooner’s feelings towards robots don’t make him a racist any more than my loathing of Furbies makes me an animal-hater. For the intent of the film, Spooner’s lugging around a two-tiered backstory — the human facet of which is hackneyed, and the robotic facet of which is underused.

Spooner is called in to investigate the apparent jumping suicide of Dr. Alfred Lanning (James Cromwell), co-founder of U.S. Robotics and the creator of the Three Laws — “don’t hurt humans,” basically — by which robots are programmed to function. USR CEO Lance Robertson (Bruce Greenwood) is particularly anxious to have the matter wrapped up, as U.S. Robotics is about to roll out their latest model (the NS-5) to the tune of one robot per five or six humans.

If you’re guessing that Lanning’s death was a suicide after all, you’ll love the bridge I just posted on eBay. Hell, I’ll toss in Bigfoot for free…

Spooner is convinced that Lanning was tossed to his death by Sonny (voiced by Alan Tudyk), an NS-5 he had built himself and modified to unknown ends. That theory, however, is discounted by everyone else as it flies in the face of the Three Laws — which are any robot’s first and most basic programming, and are considered unbreakable.

Still, Spooner remains suspicious. Lanning’s young, hot colleague, Dr. Susan Calvin (Bridget Moynahan), becomes Spooner’s unwilling sidekick in the investigation of Lanning’s death… and the much larger shadow on the horizon. The more he snoops around, the more he becomes convinced that Lanning’s murder will be the tip of the mayhem iceberg if the NS-5 release goes as planned. He’s attacked by robots, but in light of his historic hatred towards them, even his boss, Lt. John Bergin (Chi McBride), writes them off as paranoid delusions and eventually demands Spooner’s badge.

To audiences who have sat through three Matrix films in the recent past, and for whom the Terminator is familiar enough as to be a member of the pop culture pantheon, there’s not a whole lot of shock-value to the idea of robots posing a threat to humanity… inadvertent or otherwise. However, this familiarity isn’t always a bad thing; as was the case with the insects in Starship Troopers or the sentinels in the Matrix trilogy, the robots in I, Robot make great, guilt-free targets. You can sit there and enjoy watching them get their positronic clocks cleaned without any of the guilt that might (should) accompany watching humans being blown away en masse.

I’ve always had a bee in my proverbial bonnet about movies that end with a crass sequel set-up, but at least I could see it coming. I, Robot ends in such a way as to be vague, confusing and suggest a sequel. I’d have a much clearer idea as to how I feel about said theoretical sequel if I knew exactly what the hell I was supposed to make of the first movie’s ending. It smacks of, “Ah, just decide for yourselves,” just as audiences are wanting closure.

I have the hunch that after the initial marketing blitz’s attendance numbers die down a bit, I, Robot will ultimately prove too muted (especially early on) for the action-blockbuster set and too full of Will-Smith-in-July silliness for those who worship at the altar of Asimov.

D. Patrick Seitz is an actor and writer living in Los Angeles. You can visit his website here.

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