I feel like one of those angry male fanboys complaining about “accuracy” and being “faithful” to source material. While Ready Player One maintains most of the plot points of Ernest Cline’s novel, it often feels like a completely different story. Masturbatory and overwritten though it may be, the book Ready Player One at least took its fandom seriously. Steven Spielberg’s film adaptation is a sugary pop culture smorgasboard. It’s empty, overstuffed and bland where it should be awe-inspiring. And instead of a virtual reality world filled with wonder, Spielberg’s latest vision of the future looks corny even for him.
Ready Player One has been the subject of a lot of backlash, much of it deserved. Cline’s adventurous sci-fi novel celebrates ‘80s pop culture but does so trivially. And in the process it overlooks art made by and for women and champions insular, nerdy dudes who view the whole world as a video game and have become the model for hateful trolls on the Internet.
If Spielberg’s movie were half as problematic it might be interesting. It cheapens the Willy Wonka sense of discovery you got from reading the book and simplifies the idea of the OASIS, an infinite, game-like universe to “a place where you can climb Mt. Everest…with Batman!” Cline’s book isn’t celebrated for his prose, but even he never wrote a line that bad (he’s a co-screenwriter on the film). And better luck next time to any tech guys who thought this movie might put VR headsets on the map. For every remarkable thing that happens in the OASIS, Spielberg can’t help but cut back to someone in the real world looking like a total dweeb. Continue reading “Ready Player One”