It's 2077. Earth has been devastated by a war with invading aliens. Most of the remaining populace has been relocated to a Saturn moon. Jack has recently undergone a "mandatory memory wipe" and now goes about his work, a couple of weeks prior to his own exit from Earth. He's a security guard and all-around Mr. Fix-It living and working high above what's left of Earth's surface in Tower 49 with his lover/colleague Victoria (
But who is this woman in Jack's dreams? I mean, it's
A sort of "Partial Recall," "Oblivion" gives you a lot to think about. And too much time to think about it. The script by Karl Gajdusek (an interesting playwright) and Michael DeBruyn, based on an unpublished graphic novel by the director, Joseph Kosinski (
Jack knows something's up when his HAL-9000-styled boss, Sally (Melissa Leo, seen only on video monitors and oozing the sort of fake charm that spells trouble), orders him to stay away from a crash-landing site. Does Jack follow orders? No. He follows his instinct, and rescues the surviving member of the downed U.S. spaceship. She is the woman of his dreams, played by Kurylenko, and from there "Oblivion" springs a surprise or two.
"Surprise" is a relative term. Kosinski's rhythm and visual style are pretty square for such a squirrelly script: Each grave, purposeful exchange of dialogue (some of it pretty thick in terms of expositional back story) is laid out very carefully, as if we're idiots. The movie's not bad for a while, but it's made of spare parts from a lot of other movies, among them
What's interesting about it is its tight focus on a handful of characters. "Oblivion" is odder and less conventional than your average forgettable star vehicle; at times it feels like a five-character play taking place in a digital-effects lab. But there's not much energy to it. When you go to a futuristic, dystopian, post-apocalyptic barn dance starring Tom Cruise and his space guns, you expect a little zap with your thoughtful pauses.