0.5 STARS
Do you remember the marketing conceit that the video game Team Fortress 2 introduced, where you could buy skins for your characters? That’s Power Rangers in a nutshell: seeing it at a cinema is like paying $20 for a new skin over Michael Bay’s Transformers.
When a group of five misfit teenagers stumble on the wreckage of an alien spacecraft in a gold mine outside of their hometown, Angel Grove, they activate five coins of power that transform them into the Power Rangers – a team of heroes that must do battle against Rita Repulsa (Elizabeth Banks), a seemingly unstoppable foe.
A few questions, right off the bat: what exactly are Power Rangers? Why are these kids in a gold mine at night? And why the hell is an ALIEN LIFEFORM named Rita?! None of these questions have convincing answers, nor goofy excuses. They’re ignored completely, because to this studio, narrative is an annoying obstacle in the way of selling more toys.
The characters are not archetypal in any compelling manner, either. Red Ranger Jason Scott (Dacre Montgomery) is the leader because he’s the red one, and rebellious to the point of criminality because hormones. Billy Cranston (RJ Cyler) is on the spectrum, and is therefore a hacker skilled enough to know the ins and outs of a house arrest anklet. There’s a pleasant reveal about yellow ranger Trini’s (Becky G) “dark secret”, but the director projects token lesbianism on her so hard it’s surprising not to see her wearing a suit. Every side teen is a pointless dick or a backstabbing bitch, and none of them impact anything.
Like every bad script, John Gatins’ screenplay draws attention to its own flaws, as if the mere act of knowing how poorly you’re doing excuses it. But this is not Whedon-esque winking, it’s a blatant acknowledgement that Gatins is in on toy company Saban’s con, and daring you to critique this obviously silly corporate exercise.
Power Rangers’ single worst trait – and there are many – is its failure to accept the inherent cheesiness and camp of the concept until over 100 minutes into a bloated screenplay. When that classic Rangers theme kicks in, it’s far too late – most reasonable audience members would have left. After all, they don’t have to stick it out for the kids, as Power Rangers is rated M15+, replete with fake out swearing and upskirting fan service. Those who do wait are treated to a perfunctory 15-minute CGI action sequence that delivers fewer thrills than Age Of Extinction.
Then there’s the diversity issue: as in the old days, the Power Rangers are a mixed bag, but here it’s lip service only. Extensive lip service. The egregiously bad “talking robot” Alpha (Bill Hader) says this of the jewels attributed to each ranger: “Different colours, different kids… different coloured kids!”
Yep. Box ticked, Saban, well played. What an impressive display of progressive storytelling. Shame, then, about your Mandarin-speaking character (Ludi Lin’s Zack) who exists only to court the booming Chinese film market. And your autistic character who only acts that way when it’s narratively convenient. And how Rita (the only actor having any fun) chooses to set an example to the Rangers and her nemesis Zordon (Bryan Cranston, why?) by killing the black kid…
The whole film is alien because its creators don’t care about its humanity – they care about the six sequels already lined up for production.
Some quotes:
“Yellow has led you to your death, because I’m going to kill you.”
“Krispy Kreme… this must be a place of great importance, the source of all life is there.”
“Why would you show us that nightmare?”
That last one I level straight at you, Lionsgate.
Saban and co. have left the toys buried in the sandpit, and are trying to convince us that rubbing the urine-soaked sand in our eyes was the game all along.
Power Rangersopens in cinemas on Thursday March 23.
