I Am Number Four
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On the way to the I Am Number Four screening, my son gave me the rundown on everything I might need to know going into the film. He read the popular novel on which the film is based, so I looked to him as my resident Number Four expert. "It's a lot like a young Superman," he told me. "They come from another planet and possess supernatural powers." He reported that the source material was intriguing and left him wanting more. I, in turn, am here to report that the cinematic adaptation of I Am Number Four also left me wanting more, though maybe I should say "anything" instead of "more" -- anything that remotely separated this movie from any other run-of-the-mill teen emo-actioner.
Alas, the film delivers nothing on that front; it is essentially a carbon copy of every similar-themed picture that has pandered to self-centered teen moviegoers for decades. The Superman comparison was an apt one, though I remember Clark Kent's internal struggle being far more engaging than the plight of "John Smith" (Alex Pettyfer), this film's titular character. He is the fourth in a line of gifted extra-terrestrials from a war-ravaged home planet who are being hunted and killed, in sequence, by a different race of aliens with an aim to pillage and plunder the solar system for...power or energy or whatever the typical world-domination goals are. The first three have been eliminated, and "John" is...yeah, you know. Naturally, his earthly goal is to blend in and not cause any stir that could signal he is different from the run-of-the-mill humans that surround him (hence the purposely general adopted name). The fact that he is a teen Adonis probably doesn't help in the way of "blending in." On top of that, the fluorescent high-beams that shoot out of his palms when he gets angry (you won't like him when he's angry) make it nearly impossible.
What do those light-up hands do? They can fling human beings into trees, stop moving vehicles, and make for some pretty embarrassing high school scenarios -- poor old Number Four sprouts his powers in the middle of history class and has to hide in the supplies closet to keep from causing a scene. A pubescent combination of preppy bullies and burgeoning alien-on-human love causes this other-worldly transformation to take place, an unfortunate development considering such powers will certainly bust "John's" cover. See, since his escape to Earth, Number Four has been on the run from the Mogadorians, and if the name "Mogadorians" is the kind of gobbledygook that makes your eyes roll, just wait till you see their heavily made-up appearance. These alien predators look like rejects from the Harryhausen School of Kitsch, and yet the film treats them with such earnest dread that it's impossible not to cringe every time they appear on screen.
Equally cringe-worthy is the angst-ridden romance between Number Four and "teen photographer genius" Sarah (Diana Agron), which functions as a male-centered version ofTwilight -- heavy on brooding romanticism and light on believability. The lovey-dovey subplot is just one of many distracting off-shoots tacked onto the film's basic innocent-on-the-run structure; they blend unevenly to produce an often-disastrous mess of hormonal rage and faux-testosterone. Character relationships are broadly drawn as caricatures of common stereotypes, and the action scenes are marred by hideous CGI and a style that so greatly aspires to the epic that it forgets to make basic visual sense.
Michael Bay-wannabe D.J. Caruso directed the film, and I suppose it's one point of praise that I Am Number Four -- aliens and all -- is still slightly more believable than the director's previous film, Eagle Eye. Another compliment: Caruso seems to work well with actors, since the cast acquits itself fairly well under the circumstances. Timothy Olyphant is an obvious highlight, as he always is, though the film suppresses his kink more often than not. Besides, this is not a film that can be easily saved by actors. A new script, maybe, with more attention paid to ideas -- both visual and emotional -- that could make the film feel new, even if its themes are well-worn. As it stands, I Am Number Four just blends in with the lowest common denominator. My son left disappointed, and I left incredulous.
Alas, the film delivers nothing on that front; it is essentially a carbon copy of every similar-themed picture that has pandered to self-centered teen moviegoers for decades. The Superman comparison was an apt one, though I remember Clark Kent's internal struggle being far more engaging than the plight of "John Smith" (Alex Pettyfer), this film's titular character. He is the fourth in a line of gifted extra-terrestrials from a war-ravaged home planet who are being hunted and killed, in sequence, by a different race of aliens with an aim to pillage and plunder the solar system for...power or energy or whatever the typical world-domination goals are. The first three have been eliminated, and "John" is...yeah, you know. Naturally, his earthly goal is to blend in and not cause any stir that could signal he is different from the run-of-the-mill humans that surround him (hence the purposely general adopted name). The fact that he is a teen Adonis probably doesn't help in the way of "blending in." On top of that, the fluorescent high-beams that shoot out of his palms when he gets angry (you won't like him when he's angry) make it nearly impossible.
What do those light-up hands do? They can fling human beings into trees, stop moving vehicles, and make for some pretty embarrassing high school scenarios -- poor old Number Four sprouts his powers in the middle of history class and has to hide in the supplies closet to keep from causing a scene. A pubescent combination of preppy bullies and burgeoning alien-on-human love causes this other-worldly transformation to take place, an unfortunate development considering such powers will certainly bust "John's" cover. See, since his escape to Earth, Number Four has been on the run from the Mogadorians, and if the name "Mogadorians" is the kind of gobbledygook that makes your eyes roll, just wait till you see their heavily made-up appearance. These alien predators look like rejects from the Harryhausen School of Kitsch, and yet the film treats them with such earnest dread that it's impossible not to cringe every time they appear on screen.
Equally cringe-worthy is the angst-ridden romance between Number Four and "teen photographer genius" Sarah (Diana Agron), which functions as a male-centered version ofTwilight -- heavy on brooding romanticism and light on believability. The lovey-dovey subplot is just one of many distracting off-shoots tacked onto the film's basic innocent-on-the-run structure; they blend unevenly to produce an often-disastrous mess of hormonal rage and faux-testosterone. Character relationships are broadly drawn as caricatures of common stereotypes, and the action scenes are marred by hideous CGI and a style that so greatly aspires to the epic that it forgets to make basic visual sense.
Michael Bay-wannabe D.J. Caruso directed the film, and I suppose it's one point of praise that I Am Number Four -- aliens and all -- is still slightly more believable than the director's previous film, Eagle Eye. Another compliment: Caruso seems to work well with actors, since the cast acquits itself fairly well under the circumstances. Timothy Olyphant is an obvious highlight, as he always is, though the film suppresses his kink more often than not. Besides, this is not a film that can be easily saved by actors. A new script, maybe, with more attention paid to ideas -- both visual and emotional -- that could make the film feel new, even if its themes are well-worn. As it stands, I Am Number Four just blends in with the lowest common denominator. My son left disappointed, and I left incredulous.
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