Three years after it completed principal photography, Borderlands arrives in theaters on Friday, August 9, and it doesn’t take long to understand the delay.
Headlined by Cate Blanchett in a role that gives new meaning to the term generic, this adaptation of Gearbox Software’s video game series desperately wants to be Guardians of the Galaxy but has no interest in—much less skill at—concocting a unique story or fleshed-out characters. Merely a skeleton of superior ancestors, writer/director Eli Roth’s fiasco is so drearily routine and slapdash that even an A.I. would deem it too plagiaristic.
Set in a galaxy, far, far away from originality, Borderlands opens with a Star Wars riff in which rebel soldier Roland (Kevin Hart) rescues imprisoned maiden Tiny Tina (Ariana Greenblatt) from a starship with the aid of hulking behemoth Krieg (Florian Munteanu), who wears a mask, growls a lot of inanities, and is known as a “psycho.”
Tina is central to a prophecy which states that a daughter of an extinct alien race will bring peace to the galaxy by opening a secret vault that’s located on the planet Pandora. Because the vault supposedly houses untold power, it’s coveted by every bandit, scoundrel, and greedy lunatic in the universe, and as faithfully envisioned by Roth, Pandora is a debris-strewn wasteland that mixes Mad Max ruthlessness with Fallout outrageousness.
On a different, sub-Blade Runner world, bounty hunter Lilith (Blanchett) pulls up to her favorite bar with her latest catch in tow. Lilith is defined by both her fiery red hair—which curls out in a wave on one side, and demands that she habitually blow it out of her face—and her unflappable if weary cool.
Despite simply wanting to have a drink and finish her job, she’s approached by minions of corporate bigwig Atlas (Edgar Ramirez) and offered a payday she can’t refuse: Travel to Pandora and locate Tina. Lilith grumbles about this assignment because Pandora is the “shithole” home she never wanted to revisit. Upon arriving, she’s further annoyed by the appearance of mouthy robot Claptrap (Jack Black), who’s magically awakened due to her presence and immediately starts badmouthing her as “awful” and a “horrendous she-devil” even though she’s hardly done anything to warrant this abuse.
Such scattershot writing is emblematic of Borderlands, whose screenplay (by Roth and Joe Crombie) employs shorthand clichés in place of actual, involving details. The film acts as if we’ve seen this all before and, thus, require no distinctive specifics to remain engaged.
That mistake continues throughout its introductory passages, in which Lilith locates Tiny Tina and learns that she’s now a wacko pixie in bunny ears who throws explosive stuffed rabbits at anything she doesn’t like—and, when things get hairy, sicks the rampaging Krieg on her enemies. While she doesn’t outright say it, Lilith is the type that works alone, so she bristles at being forced to team up with Tiny Tina, Krieg, and Roland, who’s trying to keep the coveted girl out of the clutches of Atlas’ Crimson Guard army led by Commander Knoxx (Janina Gavankar), who—in perhaps the most tossed-off plot point in the entire affair—is Roland’s ex-girlfriend.
Gearbox Software’s games were light on plot and heavy on action, and Roth doubles down on that formula to monotonous results. On the run, Lilith and company race about trying to find sacred keys that will unlock the vault, and in this endeavor, they eventually seek the assistance of Dr. Patricia Tannis (Jamie Lee Curtis), an expert who exists only to spout exposition and to contribute to Lilith’s mommy issues, which are laughable window dressing.
Blanchett barely tries to embody her protagonist as a three-dimensional human being, and while that’s wise (since the script makes such an endeavor impossible), her cooler-than-cool posturing is painfully affected and unconvincing, as are her faux-badass wisecracks and threats.
Borderlands’ ineptness knows no bounds, be it casting Hart in a Han Solo-esque part that denies him any jokey banter (his specialty) and asks him to be stout and heroic (not his specialty), saddling Black with an endless stream of terrible one-liners (which turn him into a constant annoyance), or prioritizing characters’ colorful looks and brash attitudes over all else. Lilith and Tina are destined for mother-daughter bonding, just as Lilith—spoiler warning, for the precious few who won’t see it coming—is fated to be the genuine chosen one that can open the vault. This is paint-by-numbers science fiction at its direst, and the sole time that Roth seems inspired is during a brief sojourn into a dank sewer populated by extra-psycho psychos who behave like sadistic cast-offs from one of his horror efforts.
Some of Borderlands’ pacing issues are likely the result of prolonged post-production alterations (including reshoots overseen by Deadpool director Tim Miller). Yet that tinkering also probably rectified graver shortcomings, and is less responsible for the film’s problems than its initial, misbegotten conception.
A treasure hunt embellished with mythology about preordained saviors, hidden lairs, valuable items, and cosmic power, the film goes through turgid motions without bothering to provide the amusing and enchanting flourishes necessary to make them feel fresh again. This is especially galling since a pair of Oscar winners and popular comedians are all squandered in the process. Things aren’t helped by CG effects that alternate between passable and pedestrian—lowlighted by a run-in with a urine-spraying goliath that’s felled with such ease that it feels downright lazy.
Borderlands gets a decent amount of the game on screen, from ground vehicles and air ships to giant firearms and massive skirmishes. What made Borderlands a hit on the PlayStation and Xbox, however, was its cooperative play, and without the ability to actively control and partake in this large-scale chaos alongside friends, Roth’s film comes across as merely a garish rehash with dreams of echoing Marvel’s motley crew of galaxy-guarding misfits.
Lacking the emotional depth, narrative creativity, and witty humor of James Gunn’s beloved MCU trilogy, Roth’s big-budget venture is propelled only by borrowed ideas and stale execution, both of which cause it to crash and burn in spectacular fashion.