Pacific Rim

Pacific Rim might have been my new favorite movie if I saw it when I was ten or eleven years old. But I’m instead seeing it in my early 20s, with more mature tastes and having grown a little bored and jaded by the ongoing onslaught of giant several-hundred-million-dollar blockbusters. And I still loved it.

Yes, this movie’s trailers made it look like just another over-budgeted rehash of old ideas, in this case the giant creature genre in the vein of Godzilla. The giant robots reminded me of the Megazords from the first incarnation of those awful Power Rangers shows of my childhood, and not in a good way. Yet, despite how this idea may have looked on the surface, the execution is something to see.

In the picture, giant creatures called Kaijus emerge from a portal to another dimension at the bottom of the Pacific and attack major cities on every coast bordering the Ocean. To fight these creatures, the world unites to build the Jaegers, giant robots piloted by two fighters with linked minds. The Jaegers are able to repel the Kaiju for a while, but the tide turns when the creatures get bigger and more fearsome. The bulk of the film takes place years after this fact, centering on the last days of the Jaegers as they attempt to use a nuclear bomb to close the interdimensional portal, located off the coast of Hong Kong.

The narrative does kind of fall into predictable action adventure story patterns, and you could make a checklist of all the character archetypes on display. There’s the jaded hero who has trouble following orders (Charlie Hunnam), the gruff no-nonsense authority figure (Idris Elba), the newbie that said authority figure is reluctant to let participate in the action (Rinko Kikuchi), the zany scientist who’s a little too into their work (two actually, Charlie Day and Burn Gorman), and the colorful criminal who it turns out isn’t such a bad guy (Ron Perlman). And every line they speak, from the inspirational monologues to the quiet dialogue exchanges, is a little clichéd and corny (though mostly delivered with a winking eye, like everyone knows not to be too serious).

So what sets it apart from other blockbusters?

The difference is director/co-writer Guillermo del Toro, who brings a limitless visual imagination and unparallel zeal to every film he makes. In addition to the creatively designed machines and monsters, he gives us some pretty cool sequences, such as what happens when two Jaeger pilots’ minds fuse together (and Day’s attempts to meld with a disembodied Kaiju brain make for an entertaining subplot, both comic relief and a crucial story element). The movie also cleverly imagines how world culture might react to such monster attacks, such as Perlman’s character’s selling Kaiju parts on the black market, and several throwaway images and lines throughout.

When the Jaegers and Kaijus duke it out, it’s impressive stuff to behold. Instead of just incoherent destruction like Transformers or Man of Steel, the fights are expertly choreographed. It looks like real human fighting styles, only much, much taller, and with extensive weapons and powers. There are several awe-inspiring shots of the size and scope of the combatants (the movie demands to be seen on the big screen, and a few extra dollars for IMAX are worth it for the full experience), and yet small creative touches, as well, like one involving Newton’s famous metal balls. And when it seems the action is starting to go overboard, del Toro takes it even further, like he’s going as far as his imagination will take him, realism and science be damned. Still, it never gets to the point of feeling excessive because the film has the sense not to go too much over two hours, unlike so many recent blockbusters that overstay their welcome.

There have been some rumblings in Hollywood leading up to the movie’s release, with the notion that it’ll bomb prevailing before it even hit theaters. I hope that doesn’t turn out to be true, because it’d be a real shame if the one blockbuster that does everything right (it’s as big as any other major release this summer, but imaginative and fun instead of just loud and obnoxious) were to go unseen.