|
Run
Lola Run
viewed March 17, 2000 on video
For full
information about this film, click
here
Great, they’ve set techno music
to film. Not
that techno music is bad: it’s energizing, innovative,
and often sonically clever. It’s also about as profound as a jackhammer.
For much of Run Lola Run’s 80 minute run we are effectively driven along by
Tom Twykker’s MTV-bred knack for pacing and visual
distraction. The
momentum is so high that a lot of logical pitfalls are
leapfrogged (Lola’s attempted bank heist would have
taken much longer in real time), but in retrospect these
problems catch up with the film’s achievements.
By the end we feel that with all of its new ideas
(and there are many neat ones a dazzling opening
sequence, clever use of animation and the “Now and
Then” flash-forwards into people’s projected
futures) there is no actual depiction of a reality
after three possible conclusions, everything is virtual
and subjective to the brink of becoming uninteresting
(and if this film had been a minute longer than 80
minutes it probably would have collapsed).
This is especially true from the
human standpoint the film only takes a cursory
interest in the two main characters.
The plot is mostly runs around Lola, who herself
runs through the movie.
We don’t know a darn thing about her except
that she needs to get $20,000 in 20 minutes, and that
she has hair that looks like it’s on fire.
Judging from the cult adoration this film has
garnered, those two facts are enough to make a young
audience fall in love with this video game version of a
heroine. If
anything, this movie spells the death of movies, because
it’s just a video game.
Unlike a real movie with real drama, there are no
consequences here: Lola loses, but she gets to play
again until she wins.
The next step is to have us virtually inserted
into the screen so that we get to experience as much of
Lola’s crisis-of-the-moment as she does. And with video game companies spending as much on their new
products as Hollywood, that day is not far off.
Run
to these reviews of Lola, in order of excellence:
Jonathan
Rosenbaum
Salon.com
Roger
Ebert
Home
|