[7.7/10] The original Tron is a film with a generic story, bolstered by a unique premise and impressive imagery. If you strip away the things that made the 1982 film distinct upon its release but dated today -- its “inside a computer” setting and its graphical wizardry -- you’re left with a pretty stale and standard fantasy tale with flat characters.
I was ready to count Tron: Legacy as a success on the same terms. At first blush, the basic plot here is nothing to write home about. Sam Flynn is the seemingly orphaned son of the original protagonist, rife with the usual set of daddy issues, teasing the modern version of ENCOM that’s being run as a mercenary corporation, which old hand Alan Bradley grouses about as a departure from Kevin Flynn’s ideals. The ensuing “find your father” quest and return to “The Grid” feels inevitable and bog standard.
But even if that’s all Tron: Legacy had to offer before diving into its new digital world, it would have been enough, thanks to the exquisite texture of the film. I’ll confess that while I can intellectually appreciate how the graphic of the previous Tron would wow people in 1982, it didn’t do much for me in the modern day, when CGI effects are a dime a dozen and kids who’ve grown up since then have become inured to them.
And yet, that’s what makes Tron: Legacy so impressive. It’s not as though it’s on the cutting edge of visual effects like its predecessor was, nor can it coast on the novelty of leaping inside a computer (something its very existence as a sequel prevents on its own). Despite that, it’s stunning to watch as an aesthetic achievement, taking the look and feel of its 1982 forbear and translating it to the modern age with such creativity and awe.
Let me speak plainly: everything in Tron: Legacy looks and sounds really, really cool. There may be no greater synergy between musician and film than Daft Punk providing the soundtrack for a Tron movie. What’s more, director Joseph Kosinki and his team take the “neon lights on monochrome backgrounds” vibe and take it to the next level.
There’s something unspeakably stylish about the ships and outfits and blacklight aesthetic packed into every frame and design. The good guys and bad guys (and their vehicles and tech) are color-coded for your convenience, but there’s a sleekness and greater scope to everything that makes this feel like an extension and advancement of the original film rather than just a retread.
The same approach works for the other parts of Tron that have become lodged in the popular consciousness since 1982. There is another game of identity disk jai alai, but it’s done up to eleven with ricocheting discus fire and parkour moves that become the default movement throughout the film. There is the inevitable light-cycle race, only this time, the competitors race along multiple levels with multiple players, heightening the complexity and visual panache of the set piece. Even the homage paid to the iconic poster comes at an appropriate time and an appropriate way, sending our hero back from whence he came while evoking his connection to the past.
The one exception is the efforts to de-age Jeff Bridges, which end up falling squarely into the Uncanny Valley. The good news is that in a computerized world, that totally works! Sure, it’s a little awkward in the few scenes where we see young Kevin Flynn in the real world, but for the most part, the ageless version of Bridges is supposed to be CLU, his villainous digital equivalent, to where the aesthetic eeriness not only makes sense since CLU is a virtual copy, but adds something to his menace as the antagonist. It works in the same way much of the film’s visual choices do -- nothing approaching realism, but in a way that doesn’t matter given the setting and the sheer awe the film evokes with its designs.
It doesn’t hurt that Bridges gives a much better performance here than he did in the original picture, which is doubly impressive since he’s acting for two here. His de-aged take on CLU is menacing and smug in the way a being who feels he’s surpassed his creator ought to be. And the real Kevin Flynn, reimagined as a zen-spouting hippie who regrets his actions, both works as an extension of Bridges’s public persona, but adds some philosophical and emotional weight to the film.
Unfortunately, outside of Bridges, characterization is the weakness that Tron: Legacy shares with the film that spawned it. Sadly, Garret Hedlund is a big charisma vacuum at the center of the movie, but it’s hard to know how much of that should be attributed to an unconvincing performance versus the way he’s written as a generic action movie protagonist with daddy issues. He certainly seems more like the rich kid bullying people at his high school than the likable orphan who just wants his dad back, but the script does him no favors.
It’s a pathology that infects the rest of the film, only saved by some performances that elevate the characters beyond the material. Quorra, the secret “ISO” who’s being trained by Kevin Flynn, is the latest in a long line of underwritten female parts, but Oliva Wilde shows some sparks of humanity that make the character more memorable than she ought to be. The evil version of Tron is, much like his predecessor, underbaked by skating by on coolness alone.
The poster child for this “performer over character” is Michael Sheen’s Castor, a wildcard in the battle between CLU’s hegemony and a burgeoning resistance. There’s not much to him on paper, but holy hell is Sheen having an infectious level of fun here, vamping it up the whole time. He’s part David Bowie and part Joel Grey here, holding court with verve and whimsy in a way that makes him instantly stand out.
But despite the thinly-drawn characters and generic “We have to escape to save the world from this oppressive force” plot, there’s some unassuming depth to Tron: Legacy. The film is, at heart, a story of people reckoning with their creator. That’s personified by the three offspring, more or less, of Kevin Flynn.
The first, obviously, is Sam, Kevin’s biological son, whose development has been plainly affected by his father’s absence, and whose arc comes when he self-actualizes and reasserts himself in the real world when he learns that his father didn’t abandon him and, in fact, sacrifices himself to save him. It’s not super compelling, given how flat Sam feels as our protagonist, but it’s enough to pass muster, especially when Bridges is carrying their scenes together.
Sam’s counterpart is CLU, another being created in Kevin’s image, but one who resents the man who made him rather than misses him. CLU takes his “create the perfect system” mission to Asimov-like extremes, eventually turning on Kevin and Tron in the process. But the substance comes in conjunction with the vague notion of Users as gods from the 1982 film, with CLU representing a “God is dead” rejection of that notion and desire to overcome the “cage” he feels he and his kind have been placed in by their creation.
Somewhere in between is Quorra, a member of a new digital species that Kevin didn’t create exactly, but which emerged naturally and spontaneously from the conditions he created, there to revolutionize the world. There’s cosmological significance to all of this, adding an undercurrent of commentary on creation and legacy that adds ballast to the film’s dayglo adventures.
Hell, Tron: Legacy even presages Star Wars: The Last Jedi in its framing of Kevin as something of a chastened Jedi Master here, still capable of great feats but more apt to remove himself from the situation than try to rectify the fascism that’s overtaken the world. He apologizes to the villain and creates the opportunity for his erstwhile students to escape and surpass him in the process, a surprisingly touching moment given the light characterization and clichés that preceded it.
It’s ironic, because much of Tron: Legacy feels indebted to Star Wars from the turret-blasting dogfights, to the duels between glowing weapon-wielding masters, to the omnipresent daddy issues that suffuse everything. It also returns the favor and borrows a great deal from The Matrix, not just in terms of style, but in the sense of a dystopian digital ecosystem replete with oppressive forces and half-magic/half-philosophical counterparts and scenery-chewing wildcards in the mix.
That’s the stunning thing about this film. It synthesizes its various influences, including the original movie, into something that fits a modern approach and advances from where its predecessors left off. There’s still plenty of clichés and empty calorie moments of spectacle, but those moments wow, and Kosinksi adds just enough weight to the proceedings for these events to feel meaningful on their own terms. Late sequels are a tricky business, but with its brilliant texture, tasteful homage, and contemplative take on creation, Tron: Legacy is the upgrade we’ve been waiting for.
