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Rabbit Reviews: I Am Number Four
14 years ago
When I decided to see this in IMAX, it was out of sheer boredom. A fellow fur and I were traversing the wasteland known as the Palisades Mall on a Sunday night, and, with nothing better to do, decided to see the film that everyone (and by everyone I mean the TV) was talking about. It looked like a decent sci-fi government superpower themed movie, and we figured if nothing else it would at least look cool in IMAX. I mean, hey... it's IMAX. How can it not be awesome?
How wrong we were.
You see, I can sum up I Am Number Four in about three words: Twilight with aliens. Seriously, there are way too many parallels. Angsty teen moves to dreary, nowhere town? Check. Aloof high school hunk is secretly a vampire alien with superpowers? Check. Two hours of teen drama followed by a marginally relevant fight scene and sequel hook? Check check. Now, if only the movie were based on a tween marketed book series... oh wait, it is!
I knew this movie was going to be bad the moment I heard the opening narration. The main character doesn't even attempt to hide the fact that he's an alien from the audience; we're treated to an entire plot exposition, complete with title drop, within the first five minutes of the film. Anything interesting I could have learned from watching the next hour has now been spoiled, making the movie only marginally more exciting than watching Angela Lansbury masturbate in a bubble bath.
But then that's probably for the best. The main character has about as much depth as an avocado (but what can you expect from a guy named John Smith), and the only evidence of his otherworldly background is that we're CONSTANTLY TOLD HE'S AN ALIEN. The audience isn't even treated to a gratuitous home-planet-exploding scene to reinforce his backstory or provide us with insight into his current plight. Instead we see cut-away scenes of the evil Mogodorians (who look like Stalking Cat if he were Stalking Shark) caravanning across the country and perpetuating such heinous acts as buying chicken and frightening fat children in the next car over. None of this really explains who John Smith is, or why the Mogodorians attacked his planet, or why Cathy Griffin is still doing stand up. It certainly doesn't explain why I'm watching this movie.
I wish I could say that I Am Number Four has some kind of redeeming quality that makes it worth the two hours and fifteen minutes it would take to pirate and watch, but it doesn't. While Twilight was so terrible as to be amusing, I am Number Four is simply bad. Whatever action the teasers promised falls far short of expectations, replaced instead by a bunch of whinging teens and alien puberty metaphors. By the time all the cool action sequences came around I was literally falling asleep. Yes, literally. Not even a forty foot tall screen filled with CGI alien kung fu explosions could rouse my interest. IMAX did a better job salvaging the Titanic than it did this wreck.
Go ahead and watch this movie if you don't believe me, because that's the only way I'd recommend it to anyone. As for me, well... I'm going to go see what Mrs. Lansbury is up to in that bubble bath of hers.
How wrong we were.
You see, I can sum up I Am Number Four in about three words: Twilight with aliens. Seriously, there are way too many parallels. Angsty teen moves to dreary, nowhere town? Check. Aloof high school hunk is secretly a vampire alien with superpowers? Check. Two hours of teen drama followed by a marginally relevant fight scene and sequel hook? Check check. Now, if only the movie were based on a tween marketed book series... oh wait, it is!
I knew this movie was going to be bad the moment I heard the opening narration. The main character doesn't even attempt to hide the fact that he's an alien from the audience; we're treated to an entire plot exposition, complete with title drop, within the first five minutes of the film. Anything interesting I could have learned from watching the next hour has now been spoiled, making the movie only marginally more exciting than watching Angela Lansbury masturbate in a bubble bath.
But then that's probably for the best. The main character has about as much depth as an avocado (but what can you expect from a guy named John Smith), and the only evidence of his otherworldly background is that we're CONSTANTLY TOLD HE'S AN ALIEN. The audience isn't even treated to a gratuitous home-planet-exploding scene to reinforce his backstory or provide us with insight into his current plight. Instead we see cut-away scenes of the evil Mogodorians (who look like Stalking Cat if he were Stalking Shark) caravanning across the country and perpetuating such heinous acts as buying chicken and frightening fat children in the next car over. None of this really explains who John Smith is, or why the Mogodorians attacked his planet, or why Cathy Griffin is still doing stand up. It certainly doesn't explain why I'm watching this movie.
I wish I could say that I Am Number Four has some kind of redeeming quality that makes it worth the two hours and fifteen minutes it would take to pirate and watch, but it doesn't. While Twilight was so terrible as to be amusing, I am Number Four is simply bad. Whatever action the teasers promised falls far short of expectations, replaced instead by a bunch of whinging teens and alien puberty metaphors. By the time all the cool action sequences came around I was literally falling asleep. Yes, literally. Not even a forty foot tall screen filled with CGI alien kung fu explosions could rouse my interest. IMAX did a better job salvaging the Titanic than it did this wreck.
Go ahead and watch this movie if you don't believe me, because that's the only way I'd recommend it to anyone. As for me, well... I'm going to go see what Mrs. Lansbury is up to in that bubble bath of hers.
