n the year 2054, retinal scans will be a universal form of identification, newspapers will be animated, cars will travel sideways on vertical highways, and murderers will be caught before they have a chance to kill. This is the hyper-realistic vision of the future proposed by Steven Spielberg in his latest film, Minority Report.
Based on a short story by acclaimed science-fiction author Philip K. Dick, Minority Report stars Tom Cruise as Detective John Anderton, head of an elite division of law enforcement known as "Precrime." Using the visions of three clairvoyants called "Pre-Cogs," the Precrime unit is able to determine the exact date and time in the future that a murder will take place, as well as the names of the perpetrator and victim.
In the six years since the system was implemented, there hasn't been a single murder in Washington, D.C. The project has been so successful, in fact, that an initiative is underway to take it to a national level, a concept that greatly concerns the Department of Justice. The attorney general has appointed Detective Danny Witwer (Colin Farrell) to investigate the Precrime unit, looking for flaws in the system. Anderton, who lost his 6-year-old son before the advent of Precrime, insists the system is perfect. This belief is challenged, however, when a prediction appears with his name as the future killer of a man he has never met.
Suddenly the tables are turned and Anderton is forced to flee his own officers. While on the run, he discovers the well-kept secret that the Pre-Cogs don't always agree on the events of the future. Occasionally, the most talented of the three—the female called Agatha (Samantha Morton)—has
a different vision, called the minority report. Anderton's only hope of survival is to download the report directly from Agatha's memory, find his potential victim and figure out who set him up. What he uncovers at the center of it all is a web of intrigue more complex than he could ever imagine.
A brilliant amalgam of many genres
Part science fiction, part detective thriller, part action adventure, Minority Report is that rare kind of high-concept film that marries a well-told story with eye-popping visual effects. Engaging from the very first scene, it grabs the audience and never lets go.
Cribbing from myriad of previous works as diverse as Blade Runner (perhaps the film's closest relative, having also spawned from a Philip K. Dick story), The Fugitive and Logan's Run, Spielberg combines them all with his own storytelling skill, creating a delicious concoction that feels strangely familiar and yet wholly unique. The film is rich in such contrasts—high-tech versus suburban, sleek versus gritty,
color versus neutral tones, peaceful versus chaotic—all strategically juxtaposed to form a complex world that is much closer to our own than the fantastic visuals of A.I. Artificial Intelligence, which makes its predictions about the future all the more eerie and unsettling.
What separates Spielberg from lesser directors, and this film from others in the genre, is the attention to detail. From the design of an amusing talking cereal box to the computer interface that Anderton essentially conducts to the music of the Unfinished Symphony, no element is left untouched. For a change, it seems that just as much work went into the script as well. Recurring images and themes such as religion and the sense of sight play important roles in the story, not to mention plot twists even a Pre-Cog couldn't predict.
While there are certainly plot holes (if the Pre-Cogs can see only murders within the small area of Washington, D.C., couldn't criminals just lure their victims out of the city and kill them there?), these lapses are few and forgivable. The overall impact of the film is impressive and will surely stay with audiences long after the credits roll.
