I Am Legend
2007
Starring: Will Smith, Alice Braga, Charlie Tahan, Sali Richardson, Willow Smith, Dash Mihok
Director: Francis Lawrence
Runtime: 100 Minutes
Distributor: Warner Bros
Rating: PG-13
Fair play to Will Smith for trying to stretch his acting chops in recent years. Post Bad Boys II Smith took off in a different direction, trying his hand at some softer roles which went beyond his accepted mastery of the word “Damn!” A generally well received performance in the much overlooked Hitch, followed by an Oscar nominated turn in The Pursuit of Happiness found Smith at something of a career crossroads. Clocking up his 40th birthday next year and with the prospect of a big budget Men In Black III being tossed around by Warner Bros, Smith has some choices to make. Does he go the Tom Hanks route and turn away from the kind of material that made him and stick with emotionally heavy Oscar pictures, or does he return to his comfort zone and his patented ‘WillSmithisms?’
I Am Legend reflects this quandary in that it’s something of a hybrid film and the cinematic equivalent of surf ‘n’ turf. While there is plenty of crash, bang wallop as we have come to expect from Smith, there is also enough on display to confirm that Smith is indeed an actor of the highest caliber that can do pretty much anything he sets his mind to. Based on Richard Mathseon’s 1950’s gothic novel (that many consider to be not only better than Dracula but also more important in terms of Vampire mythology), the story tells of Robert Neville, a lone survivor of a bacterial pandemic he designed that mutated and transformed the entire world’s population into flesh eating crazies and his efforts to engineer a cure based on his own apparent immunity. The story has been adapted for the screen several times already, yet none of them have come close to pleasing the novel’s faithful. This latest version has been brewing since the early 90’s with everyone from Ridley Scott to Arnold Schwarzenegger attached at one point or another.
I Am Legend starts fast out of the blocks with a well crafted set piece; a hi-octane chase between a herd of antelope moving majestically through the city and Neville’s sports car. As Neville and his only companion – Sam, the family Dog – try to score a meal for the night, director Francis Lawrence uses the sequence as an excuse to show of the beautifully shot desolation and abandonment of New York City. It’s a lonely concrete jungle that is as much Neville’s Isle of Elba as his home where Neville lives out his days in a self-imposed exile trying desperately to engineer a cure that will reverse the mutation and save everyone.
Unsurprisingly there is more than a little religious allegory at work here; themes of penance, sacrifice and meditations on God’s will versus man and the role that divinity plays in the worst tragedies of our lives. It is integral, but extremely well positioned so that it is never the focus of the movie, nor does it at any point stoop to become preachy. Instead we are treated to a magnificent first hour witnessing Neville slowly going bonkers through isolation as he goes about his day finding comfort in the reenactment of social contracts in a society of one, diligently checking out movies from a deserted rental store and returning them the next day). Hunting food, hitting golf balls off the USS Intrepid, Neville helps to stave off the loneliness by shooting the breeze with his social circle of mannequins that he has distributed here and there for company.
More than anything this is a film about hope and the human spirit. The formula that leads to this epic disaster was designed by Neville to cure cancer and he wants to fix this, he has to fix this, for humanity and for his own guilt-ravaged conscience. The meticulous ritual of the video store stems from a desperate need to believe that the owner of that store is one day coming back and to just loot whatever he needs would be to admit defeat. His round the clock radio broadcast which acts as a survivors beacon promising food, shelter and protection is as much to convince himself as anyone else who might be listening.
It’s a striking performance from Smith that hits an emotional chord left unguarded. Those who approach the film hoping for a smash mouth “Will Smith battles bloodsuckers” are likely to be met with something of a sucker punch. You simply can’t help but be moved by a man so completely broken, yet still defiant enough to be screaming “I can stop this!” three years after it has already happened.
Which brings us to the unfortunate beasties that what’s left of the human race has tragically become. A by-product of their being nocturnal means that we don’t really get to meet them until the sun goes down, and, bizarre as it sounds, by that time it’s hard to want to. Smith is simply so good as Neville that it’s nothing short of a crying shame when the creatures take the offensive and shift the focus of the story away from him.
Frankly given the way that 28 Days/Weeks Later has rewritten the rulebook as to how diseased human crazies can be portrayed, you have to really wonder at their choice to go entirely digital, because, frankly, they just look awful. After the creatures come out to play accompanied by the discovery of Alice Braga’s survivor plus token child, it’s just a race to the finish with Smith shooting and blasting his way into a somewhat predictable finale. So an amazing first hour’s entertainment is undone by a sloppy, and downright unnecessary, sharp left turn straight up Action Movie Boulevard. Smith really shines, the beasties are just plain crap and the loudest cheer of the night is of course reserved for the unflinchingly brave and loyal animal sidekick, as it should be.
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