Independence Day: Resurgence | Little White Lies

Inde­pen­dence Day: Resurgence

22 Jun 2016 / Released: 24 Jun 2016

Two adults, a man and a woman, standing in a dimly lit setting. The man wears an olive green jacket and the woman wears a black outfit. They appear to be engaged in discussion.
Two adults, a man and a woman, standing in a dimly lit setting. The man wears an olive green jacket and the woman wears a black outfit. They appear to be engaged in discussion.
2

Anticipation.

This looks extremely stupid.

4

Enjoyment.

It is. But it just might be the most fun you have at the cinema this year.

3

In Retrospect.

A welcome hit of 90’s nostalgia. But please, no threequel.

Roland Emmerich’s shame­less­ly sen­ti­men­tal fran­chise reboot is big, dumb and a total blast.

It’s 2016 and Earth is in a state of unprece­dent­ed har­mo­ny. Sci­ence and tech­nol­o­gy are being used to fight famine and dis­ease, not wars, and every world leader is unit­ed in an effort to pre­serve human­i­ty while pro­tect­ing the plan­et. There’s a woman in the White House and Will Smith is a glob­al sym­bol of hope and sol­i­dar­i­ty. Seems an irk­some­ly quaint sce­nario, doesn’t it?

Indeed, you could be for­giv­en for find­ing this olive branch-gar­nished cock­tail a lit­tle too sick­ly to swal­low, espe­cial­ly giv­en the present cli­mate of fear-mon­ger­ing dem­a­gogues, mass shoot­ings and deep-seat­ed struc­tur­al inequal­i­ty. And yet there’s some­thing irre­sistibly roman­tic about the con­tem­po­rary utopia imag­ined at the start of Inde­pen­dence Day: Resur­gence – not because it speaks direct­ly to any spe­cif­ic real-world threat to our civ­il lib­er­ties but for pre­cise­ly the oppo­site reason.

There’s no obvi­ous agen­da here (it is refresh­ing­ly apo­lit­i­cal com­pared to most oth­er mod­ern action block­busters), nor does the film posi­tion itself as a brow-fur­rowed com­ment on our com­plex, deeply trou­bling times. Rather, direc­tor Roland Emmerich has deliv­ered an unfil­tered laser blast of cin­e­mat­ic escapism – a full-blood­ed sen­so­ry assault con­fi­dent­ly stripped of all nuance and pre­tence in order to max­imise its impact on a pure­ly super­fi­cial lev­el. Wor­ried about Brex­it? Watch Jeff Gold­blum flip off the UN by break­ing bread with a mis­cel­la­neous African war­lord. Con­cerned by Don­ald Trump’s threat to build a wall along the US-Mex­i­co bor­der? Look, they just destroyed half the West­ern Hemisphere.

Despite being the high­est-gross­ing film of 1996, Inde­pen­dence Day received mixed reviews upon release from crit­ics who pri­mar­i­ly tar­get­ed its weak char­ac­ters, dia­logue and sto­ry. This sequel-cum-remake doesn’t rep­re­sent a sig­nif­i­cant upgrade in any of those areas, but in a round­about way Resur­gence is more enjoy­able for it. The mar­ket­ing cam­paign may have bom­bas­ti­cal­ly promised big­ger, loud­er, more spec­tac­u­lar – as all mar­ket­ing cam­paigns are oblig­ed to do these days – but in prac­tice this is more or less an affec­tion­ate pas­tiche of the orig­i­nal, a super­charged B‑movie designed to exploit the cur­rent 90s revival while unashamed­ly cash­ing in 20 years of its own inflat­ed cul­tur­al col­lat­er­al. It’s deriv­a­tive in the extreme, excep­tion­al­ly dumb (not even Liam Hemsworth’s dis­tract­ing­ly hand­some pres­ence as a hot­shot moon cadet can dis­guise that fact) and huge­ly entertaining.

Let’s be clear: artis­ti­cal­ly speak­ing, Resur­gence, like its pre­de­ces­sor, is a large­ly unre­mark­able entry into the alien inva­sion canon. It doesn’t boast the best spe­cial effects or the most robust script – five cred­it­ed screen­writ­ers appar­ent­ly con­tributed to what is effec­tive­ly a high-fre­quen­cy feed­back loop of chest-swelling speech­es, dis­ori­ent­ing aer­i­al com­bat and half-baked nuclear ambush­es. And, more than any oth­er fran­chise instal­ment in recent mem­o­ry, this film can­ni­balis­es its own lega­cy with a fla­grant, some might say dan­ger­ous­ly cav­a­lier, dis­re­gard for any­one unfa­mil­iar with the ear­li­er events on its nar­ra­tive timeline.

Every crude­ly recy­cled motif and sen­ti­men­tal call­back to a return­ing char­ac­ter – regard­less of their rank or dis­cernible con­tri­bu­tion to the plot, both then and now – is drawn out for longer than seems strict­ly nec­es­sary. But you let it slide, because at this point being asked to rein­vest in a group of pro­tag­o­nists who’ve been off our screens for more than five min­utes feels like a nov­el­ty. Sure, it doesn’t make a whole heap of sense, but then nos­tal­gia works in strange and pow­er­ful ways. So don’t waste time occu­py­ing your mind with triv­ial details like who decid­ed to recast Vivi­ca A Fox as a hos­pi­tal admin­is­tra­tor and why would Jeff Goldblum’s dad dri­ve a school bus full of orphans into the mid­dle of the Mojave desert. Instead, sit back, embrace the chaos and raise a toast to the end of the world.

You might like

Accessibility Settings

Text

Applies the Open Dyslexic font, designed to improve readability for individuals with dyslexia.

Applies a more readable font throughout the website, improving readability.

Underlines links throughout the website, making them easier to distinguish.

Adjusts the font size for improved readability.

Visuals

Reduces animations and disables autoplaying videos across the website, reducing distractions and improving focus.

Reduces the colour saturation throughout the website to create a more soothing visual experience.

Increases the contrast of elements on the website, making text and interface elements easier to distinguish.