PHENOMENALITY: *marvelous*
MYTHICITY: *fair*
FRYEAN MYTHOS: *adventure*
CAMPBELLIAN FUNCTION: *cosmological, sociological*
I saw the 2014 ROBOCOP in the theater, but I remembered nothing about except for the "horrorshow moment" in a laboratory, when director Jose Padilha reveals how little of Alex Murphy's body is left after he's been incorporated into the figure of the iconic cyborg-cop.
Financially, I can understand any franchise-holder seeking to rework a popular concept to see if it can become more profitable. And some franchises are particularly elastic. Christopher Nolan's Batman had little in common with Tim Burton's, but both proved popular. However, the mediocre box office of this film, as well as the failure of the various TV iterations to catch fire, suggest that the original 1987 film is not overly malleable. Even that film's sequels failed to provide more than routine, unmemorable variations of the theme.
The original blended deft satire and straight adventure to tell the story of Detroit cop Alex Murphy, whose body is all but destroyed by predacious criminals and then transformed by a moneymaking company into a cyborg guardian. All of the action concerns domestic control of crime in the US, including corporate crime. Padilha's three writers, however, attempt to inject commentary on world politics by positing that the cyborg technology stems from the company OCP's attempt to monetize foreign military tech for domestic use. The film opens in Iran, showing a security drone and an American military detachment riding herd on local Iranians, only to have the drone kill an innocent when contending against suicide bombers. I don't know if the writers intentionally meant to make heroes of suicide bombers but that was the effect of their anti-military screed. The only thing I can say in favor of this take is that though the negative take on US politics does surface again, it doesn't pervade the entirety of the movie.
In the 1987 film, a junior executive of OCP spearheads the attempt to monetize the cyborg-tech in Detroit, whereas in 2014, it's the company's CEO, Sellars (Michael Keaton). Keaton's performance as the corporate greed-head is curiously downplayed, and he's something less than a compelling villain. Further, whereas in 1987 there's a major gang-lord who kills cop Murphy (Peter Weller), the criminals in the 2014 film also seem an afterthought, even the one responsible for killing 2014 Murphy (Joel Kinnman) with a car-bomb. The writers are more focused on their "satire" of conservatism, provided by a talk-show host (Samuel L Jackson) who seeks to validate Sellars' project with the public.
Curiously, once Murphy's decimated body is retooled into Robocop-- with the full knowledge and consent of Murphy's wife this time around-- OCP does its best to publicize how they revived an ordinary cop and made him a superhuman protector for Detroit. However, Murphy's partner this time plays nearly no role in Robocop's new life, and there's no subplot about the Detroit cops striking for better pay. By eliding the notion that Robocop's brain is wiped of his human memories, the writers sacrifice the potential appeal of his human selfhood, fighting back against impossible odds.
Though the script weakens the quality of Robocop's villains, the action overall is decently staged, and Kinnaman has some good moments acting out his character's trauma. The film's cautionary attitude toward the military-industrial complex is certainly not without foundation. Yet I tend not to like cautionary tales that only work in one direction. Still, a lot of viewers probably watched ROBOCOP 2014 without noticing the political commentary, which is certainly preferable to the many superhero films loaded with bombastic preachiness. So 2014 is far from the worst remake ever executed, even if its impact on the franchise's popularity seems negligible.








