I got caught up in it in the theater, mostly for the graphics, I guess. The 3D part (can't believe that I spent whatever extra they charged for that) have not yet impressed me in any film as more than a transitory, added-on gimmick. That technology, and especially its implementation in films, has not yet reached maturity, imho.
Sure, the story line was pedestrian and derivative . . . just like most action/adventure films are. The key for me was, for whatever reason, with this film, I was able to enjoy a temporary suspension of disbelief, which is all I could ever ask from this genre of film -- to turn off the
monkey mind and become like a kid again, wide-eyed and agape at the goings-on splashed across that big screen.
. . . Then the cell phone behind you rings, somebody else rips a wet one, and two rows down, a querulous granny loudly asks her near-dead mate, "WHAT DID HE SAY?" while, all too soon, you find yourself in the grimly delineated parking lot (those endless rows of lines!) of your local Gigaplex, the unrelenting sadness and futility of it all punching you in the face like your first fleeting hint of testicular cancer, and your Geo Metro
just won't start.
It's Winter. It's grey and it's cold. The guy who gives you a jump takes the opportunity to go on and on about how Trump is going to Make American Great Again. He brags about how he's in the top 5% and offers to share his killer work-out regimen with you. You briefly consider running him over before he can reach the safety of his placenta red
Canyonero.
You don't.
You're a good guy. Your wife has remained silent this whole time. You suddenly suspect she is planning to leave you for her life coach. For which
you pay.
The inescapable conclusion that your life is little more than a Beckett play or a Bergman film haunts you as you drive home. But when you get there, you microwave a store-brand burrito and slather it with Sriracha sauce, and for just one glorious moment before the stomach distress sets in, all is right with your world.
The end.