Welcome
to a post-racial alternate universe, but human nature still really isn’t so
different. In this modern-day fantasy world, all mankind stands unified in
their contempt for orcs and their jealousy for elves. Class distinctions are
more stratified than ever, but even though we are mere mortals, we stand firmly
in the middle, because the orcs threw their lot in with the Dark Lord way back
when. They will never shake that scarlet letter, not even when one of their own
joins the thin blue line. Daryl Ward does not like orcs any better than the
next fellow, but he is stuck riding with Nick Jakoby, mismatched buddy-cop
style in David Ayer’s Bright (trailer here), which premieres
today on Netflix.
Ward
was not exactly thrilled to partner with an orc in the first place, but he is
even less so after getting shot by an orc thug, whom he suspects Jakoby
deliberately let slip away. There is not a lot of trust there, even though
Jakoby is desperately trying to make nice. Unfortunately, a clique of crooked
cops wants Ward to set up his partner. Orc or no orc, that kind of dirty
business does not sit well with Ward, but they leave little choice. However,
the stakes really start to rise when Ward and Jakoby respond to a call
involving magic.
According
to screenwriter Max Landis’s system of magic, only “Brights” can wield magic
wands. Of course, over 99% of such magic users are elves, but occasionally there
is a human Bright. Sorry orcs, next time don’t side with the Dark Lord. As it
happens, this might be the next time. Lialeh, the leader of the evil elf clan known
as the Infirni aspires to raise the infernal overlord, but her wand was stolen
by her remorseful protégé, Tikka. Now there is a mad scramble amongst all LA’s
unsavory elements to recover the wand, which really doesn’t make sense, because
if any non-Bright touches it, they will basically get atomized. You’d think
they’d at least bring some oven mitts from home.
Bright is not the
dumpster fire many critics are making it out to be, but it is safe to say internal
logic is not its strong suit. On the other hand, Landis creates a compelling
mythology, which he establishes without lines and lines of clunky expositional
dialogue. Yet, on your third hand, there is no denying Bright gets clumsy and didactic driving home its admittedly well-meaning
message of tolerance. We just so get it, after having our noses rubbed in it,
six or seven times.
Regardless
of all that, Joel Edgerton does some of his best work to date, despite the
layers of orc prosthetics, as the painfully earnest Jakoby. It is a shockingly
soulful performance, capturing the all the lonely alienation of an orc rejected
by his own kind and despised by the rest of the world. In contrast, Will Smith
never pushes himself the least little bit as Ward. He seems to think he can get
by flashing his grin and cracking wise—and we really start to resent him for
it, because he is more or less correct.
As
Lialeh the villainess, Noomi Rapace looks like she gets indigestion from
chewing scenery. It is too bad Vietnamese superstar Veronica Ngo does not get
more dramatic heavy-lifting to do as her hench-elf Tien, considering she only
appeared in Last Jedi for about thirty
seconds as Paige Tico, but she still totally stole the picture as far as many
fans as concerned. At least Edgar Ramírez looks like he is having fun as
Kandomere, the Elfish federal Magic Squad agent.
The
effects are pretty ho-hum, but Edgerton is terrific as Jakoby and Will Smith is
Will Smith as Ward. The world-building is also impressive, but it would be even
more effective if the film could go ten minutes without a teachable moment.
Given the obvious parallels with Alien
Nation it is also almost unforgivably awkward that the orc makeup looks so
much like that of the “Newcomers.” It is more fun than you’ve likely heard, but
it is not $90 million worth of fun. Recommended for fantasy fans who like their
films loud and heavy-handed, Bright is
now streaming on Netflix.