Scott Pilgrim vs. The World

Michael Cera has the face of a penguin and the legs of a ballerina. It’s easy to dismiss him as an impossible action hero, but look again—with a tuck of the chin and a glower settling across his brow, he’s a scrapper, an immovable mule used to getting what he wants. That mutability serves him well in Scott Pilgrim, a film itself so mutable that sometimes it’s scarcely a film at all. Edgar Wright has made a 112-minute entertainment contraption, celluloid that shapeshifts its frames into video games, comic books and sitcoms. Based on a graphic novel in turn inspired by 8-bit pixels, this spazmodic flick about a would-be boyfriend who must fight—nay, defeat—his crush Mary Elizabeth Winstead’s seven evil exes isn’t even patient enough for scenes. Instead, Wright merges all action into one whiplash-fast time continuum. It could give a seizure to anyone in the Twitterverse unused to dividing their brain among twelve browser windows. But for the already addled—myself, millions more and metastasizing—it’s a blast: fun, fresh and unbounded with an ensemble that delivers every joke and elbow jab. Under the chaos, Wright and co-writer Michael Bacall have laced empathy for the too-human mess we make of relationships. Everyone has loved, everyone has lost and everyone has been the villain to another hero (or heroine). That’s the game of life, and we’re all playing.

Click here for Scott Pilgrim vs. The World in the IE Weekly

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