Buena Vista Pictures Release of a Touchstone Pictures/Columbia Pictures Presentation in Association with Laurence Mark Productions and Radiant Productions; Executive Produced by Dan Kolsrud; Produced by Wolfgang Peterson, Gail Katz, Neal Miller, Laurence Mark, Chris Columbus, Mark Radcliffe and Michael Barnathan; Associate Produced by Paula Dupre Pesmen; Written by Nicholas Kazan; Based on the short story by Isaac Asimov and the novel The Positronic Man by Isaac Asimov and Robert Silverberg; Directed by Chris Columbus
Opens December 17, 1999
Saccharine palaver. Simpering drivel. Candy-coated, feel-good nonsense. Yes, all this and more can be yours when you see Bicentennial Man. Thinking of not wasting your money now? Good. Then, I've done my job, cruel as it can be. In this case, I can't help it. Nothing gets my goat more than a film that takes what could be a profound concept and turns it into schmaltz.
Schmaltz. Geez, I don't even like that word, but it fits this film to a T. As our little adventure opens, it's the not too distant future, which means that cars have gull wing, clothes are a little funkier and robotics are just taking hold. Not much else has changed. However, change is the operative word for the Martin family when Dad (Sam Neill) buys a robot model NDR-114 (Robin Williams in and out of robot suit) to do menial household tasks. The robot refers to Dad as Sir and is dubbed Andrew by the Martin's youngest daughter (Hallie Kate Eisenberg). Andrew quickly demonstrates a complexity that no one in the family expects. He appreciates opera, refuses to kill a spider and takes a liking to sculpture, all of which impress Sir enough to offer to teach Andrew about life.
With this offer, Sir opens the proverbial can of worms. There's even the predictable birds-and-bees chat, during which Andrew almost gets teary when he learns that all the sperm die during sex, except for one little guy. (Quaint instruction for the younger members of the audience.) As the years go by, Andrew comes to understand the importance of individuality and its inherent component of freedom. Writer Kazan fairly trumpets the humanistic element here, clubbing it over the head with lines like there's no price for individuality. The constant, repetitive, sappy music, courtesy of the usually lovely James Horner, doesn't help matters.
Through all this, Andrew starts to yearn to be human in a manner so desperate that he goes on a quest to find a way to reinvent himself mechanically. His search leads him to scientist Rupert Burns (Oliver Platt), who helps Andrew become human. The scenes where Williams is transformed into a man are some of the more engaging in the film. At least, you can Oo and Ah at the effects for a while as you take a breather from the feel good philosophy offered up by Kazan. Transformation complete, Andrew's mechanical shell is discarded. Enter the real Robin Williams. Sadly, when Williams steps out of his robot suit and back into his human skin, the plot really gets top-heavy with goody-goody sentiment. I have to wonder what has happened to the old Williams. His new, kinder-gentler film choices have left me cold. Maybe we could call this film Patch the Bicentennial Liar?
As the decades pass, the first Martin family dies and new generations take their places. It's as bad as watching a glossy version of The Kentucky Cycle. Little Miss (as an adult, Embeth Davidtz) grows up and gets old. When Andrew returns home from his journey, he is shocked to meet Portia (also Davidtz), Little Miss's great-great granddaughter who -- surprise -- looks just like her and who eventually falls in love with Andrew and helps him in his fight to be recognized as a human being.
In the hands of writer Nicholas Kazan and director Chris Columbus, Isaac Asimov's short story (embellished later in novel form by him and Robert Silverberg) is turned into fluff. Asimov was one of the t