ts designation was simply NDR-114: an androgenous robot designed
to handle household chores, child rearing, servant work, and anything
else as ordered by humans. It was meant to be nothing more than a
"household appliance," to quote the head of the company which
manufacturered it. It only got its name when one of its young charges
stumbled over the word "android," saying "Andrew" instead.
But there's something different about Andrew (Williams). He exhibits an innate curiosity, an appreciation for
his environment, a desire to learn and grow, and an awareness of self
that isn't part of his programming. He restores an old phonograph and
is mesmerized by opera; he spies driftwood and can see the animal shapes that he'll carve out of the solid piece.
Andrew's owner, Sir (Neill), is a
gadget-oriented clockmaker who recognizes Andrew's unique gift and
encourages the android to explore its creative talents. Sir
also teaches Andrew about the subtler aspects of humanity, such as
humor and reproduction. And in return, Andrew becomes Sir's constant
companion and confidante.
Andrew also becomes an integral member of Sir's household--even
though Sir's eldest, rebellious daughter tries her best to ignore him.
In contrast, Little Miss (Hallie Kate Eisenberg as a child, Embeth
Davidtz as an adult) and Andrew develop a fast kinship, one that's
forged over the creation of delicate wooden animals and piano duets.
There's always something more to their friendship, but Little Miss
knows it's not possible for there to be love between a human and a machine.
Or is it? In time Andrew's education leads him
away from Sir and the devoted, though now
grown-up, Little Miss. Anxious to become free, Andrew moves out on his
own, determined to support himself independently. As the years pass,
viewers follow Andrew's journey to understand his destiny. And when he
returns to his roots, he finds his heart and mind both captured by
Little Miss' granddaughter, Portia (also played by Davidtz) who
bears an uncanny resemblance to Little Miss in her youth. It is his
burgeoning emotion for Portia that encourages Andrew to push the
envelope further and blur the lines between human and machine--a
path that will, in time, lead him to become the world's first
Bicentennial Man.
One android's transformation
What does it mean to be human? Are there criteria, a checklist, that add up to an all-encompassing definition? What determines whether a being is sentient?
Such existential questions have been addressed a number of times
in science fiction--notably, in Isaac Asimov and Robert
Silverberg's novel, The Positronic Man, and Asimov's 1975 short
story, "The Bicentennial Man," both of which this film is based
on. More recently, though, Star Trek: The Next Generation
pondered these issues as they related to the show's resident android,
Data.
So beyond the "been there, done that" feeling of
Bicentennial Man, what, exactly, is left to sustain the
ponderous and rambling plot (which, incidentally, covers all 200 years
of Andrew's life)? The transgenerational story is epic in scope, which
is both welcome and dreaded in this age of MTV-staccato and
Titanic-like indulgence on the part of filmmakers. The catch is that
the story ambles on and on, with no real sense of flow or drama. There are several missed opportunities where the script could
have been punctuated with a greater sense of purpose had certain
transitions and scenes--such as Andrew's attempt to have himself
declared a man in a global court of law, so that he may have the right
to marry a human--been played out differently. While audiences will care what
happens to Andrew, the film unwinds at far too leisurely a
pace--and with far too much predictability--for interest to be
consistently sustained.
It's difficult for Robin Williams to be anything but enjoyable on
screen, and Bicentennial Man is no exception. And even when
Williams is sheathed in a complex animatronic suit, the inimitable
essence of the comedian comes through clearly. As Andrew's
transformation from machine to human proceeds, Williams puts
more and more verve into his performance. But the truly scene-stealing
moment comes not from Williams, but from Oliver Platt's Rupert Burns,
during another, more poignant, discussion of sexuality. Kiersten
Warren's perky Galatea is bound to draw laughs. And Eisenberg proves
an adorable and able foil for Williams.
Bicentennial Man offers an epic view of what could
happen if an android became something more. Strong performances help
to counter a weak script, and if you're patient, you'll be rewarded by
several memorable moments.
-- Melissa
ashing U.S. government agent Mark Damon (Eric Scott Woods) travels to Amsterdam to track down a mysterious robber who has stolen millions of dollars
worth of diamonds from a Tiffany's courier. He attempts to enlist the aid of ex-British agent Brenda Webber (Kenny), his former lover, who is now unhappily married to Italian playboy Marco Sanjoni (Edoardo Costa).
Damon suspects Sanjoni of masterminding the robbery and kidnapping a
famous scientist, Dr. Eisenberg (Jonathan Banks). When he
tries to help Webber and her son escape from Sanjoni, Damon runs into ADAMAN, a robot who happens to be the U.S. Army's missing weapons system. ADAMAN can shoot lasers and rockets out of his hands.
In the ensuing battle, Damon is critically injured and Webber is
captured. Upon return to Sanjoni, she hears that their son was killed in the
attack. Sanjoni agrees to divorce her if she'll leave the country
immediately. Meanwhile, Sanjoni then tells Damon's superiors--led by Colonel Brody (Michael Harney)--that Damon himself is the diamond thief, and that he abducted Dr. Eisenberg and stole the robot.
Webber, meanwhile, follows Damon's instructions and contacts
Martin Wade (Monte Markham), Damon's friend at the high-tech EDEN
Institute, which created ADAMAN. Wade spirits Damon back to the institute
and implants his brain into ADAM, a $1 billion "superdroid" (also played by Jackson) who is smarter and more powerful than his twin ADAMAN.
Brody believes Sanjoni's lies and storms the EDEN institute, but ADAM escapes. Eisenberg then sets in motion a plan to get ADAM and ADAMAN together in Sardinia, where Sanjoni is vacationing. ADAM's
goal is to help Webber gain custody of her son, whom ADAM believes still lives. But they must first outmaneuver Brody and the Army--not to mention
Sanjoni.
Mechanical man, mechanical movie
Millennium Man, written and executive produced by
television veteran Glen A.
Larson, is intended to set up a possible UPN series, Larson recently told Science Fiction Weekly. It's better than the average UPN SF movie of the week, if only in the breadth of its ambition. But it's marred by overly gimmicky direction, a talky script and a tired concept.
Larson has said the telefilm is designed to take advantage of the
technological advances that have occurred since his similarly themed 1970s
series The Six Million Dollar Man. Few of those advances are in
evidence, however; the science of this fiction is so rudimentary, one
character says, "You may find this difficult to accept, but the human body
is a living machine."
The story is a pastiche of Tom Clancy-style military intrigue, James
Bond lite and Robocop. It feels bigger than it is, with its
international settings (established with stock footage). But the plot is hard to follow, with characters seeming to change
allegiances every 10 minutes and the action jumping from Italy to Washington, D.C. and back. The inevitable mano-a-mano between ADAM and ADAMAN is too long in coming, and it doesn't fully satisfy when it arrives.
The dialogue is vintage, cornball Larson. "Knowing what you want in life
is 'alf the battle," Sanjoni says at one point, in broken English. And
there's some unsavory stuff, including a couple of robot rapes and a few
gratuitous, soft-core sex scenes.
Most irritating, though, is May's direction. He relies too heavily on
flashy camera tricks, weird angles, hand-held camera shots,
black-and-white video inserts and other distracting techniques. In the rough cut sent to Science Fiction Weekly, the special effects weren't complete, but the film seems to use them sparingly. The main effect has ADAM morphing from a man into a metallic android when he is in "overkill," or battle, mode. Big deal.
I was disappointed in Millennium Man, mainly because I
expected more from the man who created television's Steve Austin.
-- P.L.
ts designation was simply NDR-114: an androgenous robot designed
to handle household chores, child rearing, servant work, and anything
else as ordered by humans. It was meant to be nothing more than a
"household appliance," to quote the head of the company which
manufacturered it. It only got its name when one of its young charges
stumbled over the word "android," saying "Andrew" instead.
ashing U.S. government agent Mark Damon (Eric Scott Woods) travels to Amsterdam to track down a mysterious robber who has stolen millions of dollars
worth of diamonds from a Tiffany's courier. He attempts to enlist the aid of ex-British agent Brenda Webber (Kenny), his former lover, who is now unhappily married to Italian playboy Marco Sanjoni (Edoardo Costa).
