Scott Pilgrim vs. The World (film)
Directed by Edgar Wright, Created by Bryan Lee O'Malley
VVVV
It might be enough to describe Scott Pilgrim vs. The World as an apt adaptation of a genre-crossing graphic novel phenomenon that started in my hometown of Toronto and exploded from there. But that would be about as adequate as saying Super Mario Bros. was a fun video game.
Scott Pilgrim is fun. Not in the "Tetris is addictive" way. Not in the "I love the way Chun Li fights in Street Fighter" way. This isn't just a story about a nerdy kid who can kick ass and play the bass with some competency. It's the hero's journey in 8-bit, complete with level-ups, finding the princess, collecting coins, and most especially EVIL BOSS CHARACTERS.
Okay, maybe that last paragraph was a little heavy on the video game comparisons. Some critics claim that the film's major drawback lies in those references, but there was nothing in the lexicon that wasn't evident to even the most noobish of gamers.
Scott, played by the ubiquitous and earnestly geeky Michael Cera, is an unemployed college grad in his early twenties with no direction, funds, girlfriend or life. He shares a one-room apartment and a bed with his "cool gay roommate" (played by a stunningly adept Kieran Culkin) in real-life Toronto.
His adventure begins just as he's trying to establish an easy, casual but somewhat questionable relationship with a 17-year-old girl named Knives Chau; and then, in skates the woman of his dreams, Ramona Flowers. To date Ramona, he must defeat each member of the League of Seven Evil Exes. Where that leave Knives is another question....
What the film--and the graphic novel series--does to capture the viewers' attention and hold it lies not in the spectacular fight scenes and lightning fast editing, but in the telling of our hero Scott's story. In some cases, director Wright pulls shots directly out of the source material, creator Bryan Lee O'Malley's black-and-white manga-inspired version of Toronto. We never have to stretch our imaginations too far to piece together what's happened to Scott: moving frames of stills cascading through scenes of what would otherwise be dry and overly dramatic dialogue carry us through. Truly, the director and the creator shared some kind of kismet.
It's a frenetic showcase of color and flashing lights mixed in with the indy-rock-heavy hipster malaise garnered from generational floundering, and sprinkled liberally with video game irony. But at no point do you feel any contemptible seriousness from anyone. Irony without without the snark--who'da thunk it possible?
Torontonians will love spotting landmarks. Gamers will love the subtle (and not so subtle) references to all the great classics. Lovers of O'Malley's graphic novel will be greatly pleased. The rest will have as much fun as they did playing level one of Super Mario Bros.
The ones who didn't can go back to reading their books and lamenting the decline of the film-making industry and blaming video games on all of it.
Elspeth J
Scott Pilgrim made me ridiculous happy, but maybe the best part was the collective groan from the audience when they realized that the otherwise compelling Devil preview was from the mind of M. Night Shyamalan.