The idea that humans only use 10% of their brain was debunked by science decades ago. Yet Morgan Freeman’s sultry voice would make this viewer believe just about any amount of pseudo-science that comes out of his mouth.
Damn you Morgan Freeman.
Acknowledging that Lucy, French writer-director Luc Besson’s film is built entirely around a premise that if it were true would render humanity with the corporate intelligence of a herd of sheep (seriously, read about it https://faculty.washington.edu/chudler/tenper.html), it becomes difficult for audiences to stay within the realms of believability that the film is trying to wrangle.
Johansson heads up the title role in Lucy, as (you guessed it) Lucy, a grad student party girl who gets roped into a drug drop gone bad. With a belly full of exploded super drugs, Lucy begins to be able to access an increasing percentage of her brain capacity (which is conveniently represented by title cards on screen stating exactly that).
By the end of the film, Lucy is inducing the levitation of bad guys, diagnosing serious kidney problems and able to kill and maim with a literal blink of an eye. It’s at this point that all of the tension in Lucy is lost. With a seemingly immortal protagonist, no other character or circumstance is able to pose a real threat.
Johansson shines as expected, and despite a healthy amount of scriptorial brain-fart, balances the rise of her character from victim to all consuming demi-god respectably.
At one point, Lucy walks into an operating theatre, shoots dead an innocent patient on the operating table and commands doctors to inspect her condition. The doctors do so and no security is ever called, despite the small issue of first-degree murder having just taken place.
Besson admirably uses his flair for the visual to create what drama the story lacks. Bold use of vibrant colours in his lighting and set design emboss his style and do what they can to enhance a struggling story. Besson chooses to juxtapose imagery of wild animals, nature and mother earth herself with the current action in a way that comes across as refreshingly unique (albeit slightly unsubtle).
Lucy is a blockbuster that at the core of itself is flawed. It’s still able to produce its fair share of action and slickness, but the dread that should grip an audience for a protagonist in trouble seems long gone by the second act. Still, Morgan Freeman does speak for a sizeable chunk of time though, so if you’re looking for something to tip you towards a trip to the cinema, there’s always that.
Damn you Morgan Freeman.
★★ 1/2
This review first appeared at This Is Film
