One recent Monday out at Muncy’s dandy District, a film-fan friend and I were badly disappointed by Disclosure Day. Ever hopeful for cinematic gold, we shortly thereafter home-streamed the recent sci-fi opus Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die. (We’d missed it theatrically — because it played in Williamsport for just one week.)
About halfway through, I heard myself declaring, “This is everything Disclosure Day wasn’t: fast, funny, smart, loaded with ideas.” And then a little later: “This is so much fun, I’m worried whether they can actually land the plane with a decent ending” — which they did. Actually, twice.
Now “they” in that earlier sentence refers partly to the bravura blend of director Gore Verbinski (the first three Pirates of the Caribbean) and a terrific cast: Sam Rockwell, Haley Lu Richardson, Michael Pena, Juno Temple and many talented lesser-knowns.
But special kudos go to screenwriter Matthew Robinson, whose modest resume hardly seemed to presage this movie’s wit, excitement and keen thematic relevance.
Rockwell plays a nameless “man from the future” who suddenly appears in a crowded L.A. diner. Dressed as if he cobbled his wardrobe from trash and recycled electronics, the oddly convincing weirdo insists that in his distant era, A-I has taken over everything, and half the population is dead.
He goes on to claim that he’s been through this scenario 117 times in an effort to assemble just the right team from that evening’s customers — a group that will help him complete his retroactive mission and rescue the world from A-I armageddon.
The objective is simply to escape from the diner (which apparently has not been managed well in other tries), then find an ingenious young boy and install safety protocols on the massive computer he’s concocting. But this won’t be easy, as a series of cunning flashbacks show us that worldwide tech has already begun to seize the culture.
The hippest sequence here is an outlandish but eerily prescient forecast on clones and school shootings — which, like all great satire, causes equal parts laughter and queasy dread.
As the movie works toward a furiously suspenseful climax, other story-arcs include acts of self-sacrifice, a drone-like teen army, a professional princess who’s allergic to electronics (yes, you read that right) and a giant killer cat with horse-hooves for feet and rats for fur (once again — do not adjust your set).
And the whip-smart finale, piling on several nifty twists, is the best part of this film — though the cast also carries it. Rockwell, who seems to have a monopoly on likable screwballs, is even more entertaining than usual, while Richardson — an underrated actress who triumphed in Season Two of White Lotus — has never been better.
And the film looks great, with handsome costumes, sets and SFX — all on a budget of $20 million. (Compare this, for instance, to Nolan’s forthcoming Odyssey, which cost roughly 13 times that much.)
If I had time & space this week, I’d do a sidebar on Rockwell’s filmography, which covers numerous offbeat winners that often ran under-the-radar: Moon, The Way Way Back, Seven Psychopaths, Eastwood’s Richard Jewell, Ridley Scott’s Matchstick Men, Galaxy Quest, Hitchhiker’s Guide, The Green Mile, Three Billboards, Jojo Rabbit, The Best of Enemies — sheesh, the list is almost endless.
You can add this new film to that quirky queue — and to your own at home.
Good luck, have fun, and don’t miss it.
