The last decade has inundated us with the so called “Requel”, a belated sequel that effectively acts as a remake of the original with a new character, usually a kid from one of the original cast. Their journey of self discovery leads them back to the places their parents went to and ends on them gaining not just independence but an appreciation of the past, and usually enough money to crank the generator for another week or two. It is an eye rolling formula today but it was a fairly novel concept when Tron’s first belated sequel, Tron: Legacy, released in 2010. Today, with another one under the belt, Legacy looks stunningly original.
Tron: Ares may be the first requel to a requel as enough time has passed that a generation of kids who caught Legacy on Netflix to justify taking a chance on another dip into the weird world on the other side of the computer screen. Ares is not a true sequel to Legacy, though it includes enough references to not feel like it’s replacing it either. Instead, Ares takes the broad strokes of it’s predecessor and takes another stab at it, one that feels like it’s cut out of the same template Jurassic World and Creed were. Kevin Flynn, our defacto hero from the original, has disappeared and the ENCOM corporation has splintered with the villainous Dillinger family breaking off and taking their militant ambitions with them. Now in the computer of Evan Peters in a Jack Quaid halloween costume, Jared Leto must answer the question, can he act like a real boy? And the answer is no. No he cannot.
Bigger, heavier, uglier
Ares has the distinction of being the first Tron film to actually be about Tron, or at least his archetype. The titular Ares is a security program for the villainous Dillinger, one who finds himself pulled into the real-world as part of a military contract. Birthed into a room of never-ending conflict in one of the film’s more effective set pieces, Ares has been gifted with martial prowess and a jagged, evil version of the iconic identity disc used across the series. The only downside is that none of the 3D printed tin soldiers from the grid can exist in the real world for more than half an hour before they crumple into dust. All hope is not lost however as ENCOM CEO Eve Kim (Greta Lee) has found the secret to sustainable existence for digital assets. What follows is a war of corporate espionage that somehow sneaks in a Honda Civic ad.
Herein lies maybe the great sad truth about Tron, one you don’t want to admit but can’t help but acknowledge when it stares you in the face: a world inside the computer is a very stupid idea. It’s silly, to show a man typing on a keyboard and intercut it with a high stakes style bank heist where everyone wears neon. The concept may have been more novel in the ’80s where the average person understood less about the functions of computers and the entire thing felt very serious and stoic, but the concept has more in line with a Pixar film than a serious thriller. It was probably this sad truth that prompted Legacy’s best decision, to cut the “real” world out almost entirely. Once characters are in the grid, the grid is all we have. Legacy’s version of the bio-digital landscape is as much another dimension built with circuitry as it is the literal ‘other side’ of the screen.
Ares cannot escape this sad truth, but it cannot embrace it either.
Like Monsters Inc. in the style of Spectre
Our lead spends much of the early film being directed and scolded by Dillinger who appears as a face of reflective glass, but who, at times, continues to talk in his Millennial drivel even under the heavy vocoding of the glass. It’s a juxtaposition that never really comes full circle. One might imagine a scene where Ares realizes the people who control him, who dictate his existence, know even less than he does about living and prompts him to break out. Perhaps the harsh reality of life on the grid, when compared to the petty kitschy lifestyles of the CEOs whose war they live and die for, would prompt some sort of violent revolt in our heroes. Instead, Ares breaks his conditioning out of empathy he gains by refusing a command he finds cruel, a more generically “heroic” origin, but one without anything interesting to say and one we’ve seen a dozen times over.
It is painfully clear the real reason Tron: Ares exists is as a vehicle for Jared Leto to rocket himself up to that of a household name. Nearly from its announcement, the film has centered him in all its marketing, and the film seems to go out of its way to put his face front and center even when it feels odd. At numerous points the visor on his helmet seems to shift to a greyscale video of his own face for no reason other than to remind you Leto is here.
Imagine what Jake Gyllanhaal could do with this role
The over-promotion of the star would be no major issue if they can carry the weight, but Leto just can’t. Even as the film goes out of its way to place his large eyes in the center of the action, there’s nothing behind them. Leto seems to think that being a program means being a robot and he talks with a stilted accent that not only sounds nothing like anything any other program does, it’s not even what other famous robot performances do. Compare Ares to the Terminator, or Data from Star Trek. Both characters that (depending on what film they’re in) have to portray the same gambit of cold to human and do it so naturally it looks effortless.
Ares as a character is at his best early in the film when his helmet is blacked out and the audience can project onto him. Kept this way Ares himself and the programs on the Dillinger Grid would feel distinct, devoid of the personality we see them have on Flynn’s; but it may also open up a new dimension to his arc. Ares has not just been deprived of the opportunity to live on his own terms, but to have a face of his own. Here in the opaque battle dress, Leto’s soft-spoken approach to the character feels like subversion and gives depth to what is functionally a war robot, but without the glossy cover he’s simply wearing an impressive cosplay. The fact he couldn’t even be bothered to cut his hair feels like it says it all — you’re supposed to be keenly aware of who’s playing Ares at all times.
So much of Tron: Ares’ failures come from living in the shadow of it’s older sibling. In Legacy, the grid feels dystopic but alive. There are gladiatorial games, vagrants on the street, underground factions, highrise bars, the existence of leisure implies a life outside of labor at least for some of the programs. In Ares, the only programs we see are the militant guards in the high tower, even the ships don’t always seem to have pilots. In Legacy, the world is built out of black glass where the soft diffused light of LEDs disappears, illuminating passing mist more than the structures around them. In Ares the environment is flooded with light making half the props look like they’re in the lobby at a convention. In the big debut of the light cycles you can see the individual LEDs that rotate on the wheels. But the biggest loss is the costume design. In Legacy the suits look like comic book costumes, second skins as much as clothing. Ares’ own suit is so bulky and bright it feels like it’s supposed to be some kind of crude prototype.
The legacy of Legacy
It may be tempting to take Tron: Ares not as a sequel but as it’s own unique thing, and yet that is also impossible. Where Ares does its best work is ultimately pulled from Legacy as well. Its slick colored glass aesthetic, its generally clean look, even some of its set pieces are all pulled from Legacy’s more radical re-envisioning of the original. In one of Ares’ few unique contributions, a pair of soldiers wield staffs that produce hard light trails behind them, ones that can be used as stepping stones or to box in opponents. It’s a strong visual that opens up some really clever choreography, but it gets pulled out so often it feels like the only original idea they had and they’re maybe a little too proud of it.
This poor man’s approach can maybe be felt most in the soundtrack, where Nine Inch Nails was brought in after Daft Punk did the score for Legacy, something that felt inspired at the time. Nine Inch Nails frontman Trent Reznor actually has a long list of credits scoring films, most of which are heavily lauded, and aside from the title track releasing as a single, there’s not much here that feels overtly different from those scores, so why make such a big deal about it if not to draw a parallel with its predecessor? To be clear, Nine Inch Nails don’t phone it in by any stretch, their score is fantastic and does a lot of lifting to ratchet up the tension in otherwise plain action scenes, but it also feels like a score that deserves a better film. While people often complain the score of Tron Legacy doesn’t feel “Daft Punk” enough there’s no denying the two are a perfect match, while Ares doesn’t quite bring the blows fast enough to match the ultra heavy hits the score gives it.
As I look over my time with Tron: Ares, I can pinpoint moments that worked. Little camera tricks where they play with space and color in a way very few modern blockbusters do, but all of it is ultimately in service of an actor who can’t carry his weight and a world that feels half empty compared to what came before. But if you’re not super put off by a weak lead and just want some gorgeous visuals and a solid soundtrack, Tron: Legacy recently got a 4K remaster.
The Review
Poor
