n the year 2035, robots have become commonplace: they walk our dogs, remove our trash and deliver our Fed Ex packages with a pleasant "Have a nice day." But Chicago homicide detective Del Spooner (Smith), haunted by a past tragedy, wants none of it. A fan of retro-technology, like his single-disc CD player, Spooner is a lone voice crying in a wilderness of technological marvels. Whether he likes it or not, U.S. Robotics is about to unveil the latest generation of robots, the NS-5, in the largest rollout in history. By its end, the human-to-robot ratio will stand at 5 to 1.
After mistaking a robot errand for a purse-snatching—no robot has ever committed a crime—Spooner gets a call to the Chicago headquarters building of U.S. Robotics. The father of robotics, Dr. Alfred Lanning (Cromwell), has jumped—or been thrown—out a high window onto the marble plaza below. The only clue: a holographic recording of the doctor.
Up in Lanning's lab, Spooner stumbles upon a robot, one of Lanning's own NS-5 prototypes. The robot leaps over Spooner and out the window, dropping unharmed to the plaza below, only to be taken into custody.
U.S. Robotics' chairman, Lawrence Robertson (Greenwood), meanwhile, pairs brilliant "robopsychologist" Dr. Susan Calvin (Moynahan) with Spooner to aid in the investigation. She tells him that it's not possible for the robot, named Sonny (Alan Tudyk), to have killed Lanning. He's "Three Laws Safe," meaning he is hard-wired with the Three Laws of Robotics: 1) A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. 2) A robot must obey orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. 3) A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.
But in interrogation, Spooner discovers that Sonny may not be like other robots. For one thing, he has a name. For another, he flashes with anger when accused of Lanning's murder. And for another, he considered Lanning a father—all very unrobotic behavior.
A lifelike simulation of Asimov
Like the humanoid machines at its center, I, Robot is an impressive simulacrum of something it fundamentally is not; that is, the beloved collection of short stories by legendary SF author Asimov. Instead, I, Robot takes as its starting point a few characters, themes and story points from Asimov's collection, soups them up with modern-day technology, wires in a bit of Smith's trademark humor and amps up the action to create a half-human, half-technological summer beast. (The movie's plot derives from Vintar's original script, Hardwired, about a murder that may have been committed by a robot, and upgrades it to fit into Asimov's universe.)
Forgetting Asimov, I, Robot is a serviceable popcorn movie that aims a little higher, encasing its blockbuster machinery in a few layers of well-played drama that gives the movie a human face. The charismatic Smith plays Spooner more man in black than Men in Black, with an emphasis on broody. (That doesn't prevent Smith from baring all in an unprecedented nude scene, which is matched later in the movie by Moynahan's similar full monty.)
The excellent supporting cast is fully functional, though Moynahan plays her younger version of Asimov's Calvin as if she were a robot herself.
Tudyk, who provided the voice and physical movements of Sonny, a la Andy Serkis' Gollum, impressively impersonates an android with a subtly inhuman performance that paradoxically provides one of the film's emotional centers.
Proyas, a favorite of SF fans for his The Crow and Dark City, continues to show an imaginative visual sense. I, Robot is the bright shiny counterpoint to Proyas' dark previous films, but with the same sense of panache and energy, particularly in the finale. Proyas moves the camera in dizzyingly original ways, though the action goes way over the top and there are plot holes big enough to drive a robot transport through.
