[rating=5.00]
To understand Gemini Man means to recognize it as an artifact of its time. By that I mean an artifact of 1997, when the film was first conceived and written by a young and hopeful 27-year-old David Benioff, years before he would become one half of the creative duo that oversaw the global phenomenon, Game of Thrones.
In the years between then and Game of Thrones, Benioff would achieve some acclaim writing the novel 25th Hour, which he later adapted into a screenplay that would be directed by Spike Lee and star Edward Norton. That catapulted his acclaim and sent Benioff in a direction that would careen him towards the most watched shows of all time and, ultimately, into a galaxy far, far away. All the while, Gemini Man would be stuck in development hell.
While supposedly the years between its conception and its release would feature some rewrites of the original script—some of which are obvious because, after all, cell phones were not as ubiquitous in 1997, and iPhones would be a decade away—the core of the film’s narrative is, very much, stuck in those days of relative cinematic innocence. Had it been released in 1997, Gemini Man might have stood a decent chance at sitting next to the likes of Face/Off or The Rock as a cheesy, high concept, fun-but-bad late-90s action romp.
It, of course, was not.
What we’ve got now is a bizarre amalgam of old ideas made with new technology which creates an uneasy, dizzying juxtaposition. For this film, director Ang Lee returns to the controversial high frame rate 3D technology he first utilized in 2016’s Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk, itself a remarkable technological leap of cinema. Added to that is the de-aging technology that allows Will Smith to play both the aged and retiring spy/hitman Henry Brogan and his 24-year-old clone, Junior.
Neither of these advances being available in 1997 begs the question of how they ever intended to make it, which I suppose partially explains the 22 years of development hell it saw. There can be no doubt that the film is something of a marvel in terms of pushing forward the art and science of cinema and, for that, it’s probably kind of important. Narratively, however, it very much belongs to 1997. And boy, does it feel like it.
Gemini Man is chock full of characters and scenarios that feel ripped from the psyches and fears of the mid-90s. It was written, after all, only a few years after the unveiling of Dolly the sheep, whose existence spurred fierce debate on the ethics and practices of cloning and led to overblown concerns of, well, the cloning of super soldiers meant to take the places of our existing soldiers. These are fears that feel quaint in today’s environment.
We follow Brogan, an American assassin who is the best of the best. So good, in fact, that he can successfully hit a man riding on a train from two miles away. However, his soul, he tells us, has, over the course of his 72 kills on behalf of the Defense Intelligence Agency, began to weigh heavily on him and he retires, intending to live the rest of his days in peace and isolation. That is, of course, until the agency learns that he has learned something he shouldn’t know and his superiors, Lassiter and Verris (Linda Emond and Clive Owen), decide to take him out. Finding him too skilled to be taken out by conventional methods, they unleash Verris’s son, Junior, a clone of Brogan, to complete the job.
As far as early scripts from writers who would achieve later acclaim go, Gemini Man is certainly lofty. Lee brings a distinct flair to the film which features a few fantastic set pieces that are ultimately satisfying as far as action movies go. One in particular, a motorcycle chase scene set in Cartagena, Columbia, recalls the heydays of mid-90s action movie excess and is admittedly quite fun. Smith seems to revel in his double duty even if the de-aging process hasn’t quite worked its way out of the uncanny valley. Owen, too, seems to be enjoying his muted scene chewing as the film’s villain.
The script, however, is so mired by ancient conventions and tropes that it can be difficult really care. We’ve seen this movie and we’ve met these characters a lot over the years, and the 22 years between their writing and their unleashing has not exactly been kind. A bigger sin than even that, however, is how much the film hints at Philip Dickian ideas of self and identity and fate and choice without ever knowing how to handle them in any meaningful way.
Frustrating as this might be from a modern standpoint, in the end it is, simply, what it is. It’s a shame this didn’t get made in 1997 or 1999. If it had been, we might have gotten something of a cheap thrill that was remembered somewhat fondly by 90’s cinema fetishists and earning a place alongside the Simpson/Bruckheimer productions of the era. Now it just feels out of place and unnecessary, if ultimately a harmlessly brain-dead indulgence.
Gemini Man is now playing in theaters everywhere.
