Scott Pilgrim vs the World is, for lack of a better term, some next level shit. If you haven’t seen the film this is going to sound like hyperbolic nonsense, but once you’ve watched the movie – and seen the incredibly kinetic and propulsive editing in action – you’ll understand. There are films that are milestones in cinematic language; they’re the movies that advance the art but also take the blame when other knock offs try the same techniques and fail (think Paul Greengrass’ Bourne films). Scott Pilgrim is one of those films.
It’s truly remarkable what Wright and his editors Jonathan Amos and Paul Machliss have done here. The way they use transitions alone feels revolutionary; there’s an almost physical sensation of movement as they bring you from scene to scene, whipping you from location to location. The editing is fast and furious but not ADD; Wright and company seem to instinctively understand the way that, post-MTV, we’ve learned to see things on screen, and they’re pushing it right to the edge. This, combined with the sheer amount of stuff that happens in the film, can make Scott Pilgrim a little exhausting… but in a very, very satisfying way. If there’s any justice in the world (and I know there isn’t), Scott Pilgrim vs the World will be showing up at the Kodak Theater next year, with a Best Editing nomination. I honestly think that the style and skill on display here is so exciting, so excellent, so beyond the norm, that an Oscar isn’t even remotely out of the question.
But what about the rest of the movie? Does the fact that I’m opening with two paragraphs about the editing mean I have nothing else nice to say about it? Not at all – Scott Pilgrim vs the World is a great movie, and in many ways – chief among which is the editing – feels like a milemarker movie. To say that this movie captures a generation feels wrong, since it’s full of references to ‘old timey’ things like the Smashing Pumpkins and Legend of Zelda. Rather, it’s a movie that captures a whole swath of culture, that ties up so many strands of life around the turn of the century that I think people will look back at it as a way of understanding who we were right now.
To me the film feels like what Lindsay Anderson might have made if he was a young filmmaker today – and not quite as angry as he was when he made If… and O Lucky Man!. It feels like what would have happened if Bob Rafelson had given Head a plot. And kung fu battles. I keep coming back to If… though, and not for any specific reason except that it, like Scott Pilgrim, feels very much of the time when it was made but also universal in its themes. Malcolm McDowell’s rebellion is the rebellion of every angry young man, it just happens to be taking place in a very specific time and place and culture. Scott Pilgrim’s struggle to find himself is the struggle of every goofy young guy, it just happens to be taking place in a very specific time and place and culture. That time is now, that place is Toronto, and that culture is white, slacker, gamer, indie rock.
There’s a lot of surface to Scott Pilgrim vs the World -massive, over the top battles, musical numbers, hyperphysics – but don’t bounce off of it and miss the emotion in the center. Scott Pilgrim isn’t about movies or video games or music, although it encompasses all those things. It’s about love, and growing up, and taking responsibility. The plot has slacker Scott Pilgrim battling the 7 Evil Exes of his new girlfriend, the cool and beautiful Ramona Flowers, but the real enemy isn’t external. And we learn that Evil Exes don’t just pop up out of thin air. There’s a remarkable emotional maturity at the center of the film, with the idea that self respect is intimately tied with personal responsibility, which is a prerequisite for any relationship to take hold. It’s a movie that begins with simple infatuation and ends with characters coming to deep understandings of themselves and how they impact the people around them.
The film is heavily stylized; one of the things that I loved in the original comics was that no one really seemed all that phased when an Indian dude flew through the roof of a venue and conjured a horde of fireball-blasting demon hipster chicks to do battle with the bassist of a fairly shitty garage band. Edgar Wright and co-screenwriter Michael Bacall maintain that attitude – these over the top things that happen are just what happens. People get flung through buildings, flaming swords come out of people’s chests, being vegan gives you mental powers and bad guys, once defeated, turn into showers of coins (specifically Loonies, it seems). Punches are accompanied by action lines and cartoon lettering sound effects, and it’s possible to level up and get an extra life. If we’re defined by the pop culture we live with, Scott Pilgrim takes it a step forward and defines the world and the characters by the pop culture they live in.
This allows Edgar Wright to let loose. Scott Pilgrim vs the World doesn’t quite feel as much like the next film after Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz so much as it’s the realization of Spaced on a big budget and with a couple of double espressos downed for good measure. That hyper, almost stream of consciousness pop culture fluidity is the basic form of Scott Pilgrim, and it’s like Edgar Wright’s id is unleashed (unleashed ids are particularly germane, as one battle scene involves giant electrical creatures going at it – a scene obviously influenced by the Id Monster from Forbidden Planet). What’s really wonderful about Wright’s id, though, is how inclusive it is. He may make references – a Flash Gordon musical cue here, a Phantom of the Paradise nod there – but they’re not exclusionary. You don’t have to get it to get it. Like Spaced, Pilgrim works because it’s layered. There’s a core emotional story about love and growing up, there’s the hyperspeed stylistic tics, there’s a bunch of fun video game references, there’s a bunch of movie references, and you can engage the film on any of those levels and be satisfied.
The cast assembled for Scott Pilgrim vs the World feels as impressive as the style and filmmaking on display; every now and again you see a movie that you know will launch a dozen careers (or will fix some established career trajectories), and this is one of those films. The bench is so deep that you could make strong arguments about which of a half dozen supporting actors steal the show. Johnny Simmons is so good as Young Neil that you barely notice how great he is – co-star Anna Kendrick has recommended a viewing of the movie where you just watch Simmons, and I agree. The young actor, who should have broken out after Jennifer’s Body (however you feel about that film he is great in it), understands how underplaying a moment can be as rapturous as overplaying it, especially in a movie where so much that’s happening on screen is so big. Brandon Routh takes the taste of The Man of Steel out of our mouths with a perfect turn as the vegan ex-boyfriend Todd Ingram, while Chris Evans expertly skewers action stars as ex Lucas Lee. Aubrey Plaza’s biggest problem as superbitch Julie is that she leaves the film before the end, while Brie Larson, playing one of Scott’s exes, Envy Adams, makes every second of her limited screentime count.
But my vote for the biggest scene stealer of the film is Kieran Culkin, playing Wallace, Scott’s gay roommate. In Bryan Lee O’Malley’s original comics Wallace was an incredible mix of bitchy and supportive, and Culkin nails it every time. He can run down Scott in the same sentence where he’s boosting Scott up. Culkin’s as dry as a good martini, and he cuts through the rest of the living cartoon that is Scott Pilgrim to ground things nicely.
Complaints about Michael Cera abound. He’s playing the same role again and again, people say, which is weird because they never make that complaint about Bruce Willis or Arnold Schwarzenegger. What’s more, they’re wrong. Scott Pilgrim isn’t George Michael Bluth or Evan from Superbad. If Scott is ever awkward he pretty much doesn’t know it; one of the great mildly stupid heroes of our time, Scott Pilgrim bumbles and enthuses his way forward, rarely ever thinking. That’s the secret to the character and what makes him so different from Cera’s other parts – in the past Cera has played smart kids who overthink, who have too much on their minds. Scott has very, very little on his, and that’s what leads him to make a hash of his personal life. He’s not a bad guy, per se, but he’s not thoughtful. He dates and then dumps a 17 year old schoolgirl very cavalierly, interested only in how it makes him feel. He’s the ultimate self-centered doofus, and Cera plays it perfectly. I can’t help you if you don’t like the look of Cera’s face or the sound of his voice, but I can tell you you’re wrong if you think he’s just doing the same old thing.
The most impressive thing that Cera does in the film is sell the fights. Edgar Wright demands a lot from his stars when it comes to action, and the hand-to-hand combat is fierce, fast and cool. One battle sees Scott taking on a legion of stunt doubles wielding skateboards, and there’s a believable fluidity to the action. It’s fun to see this sort of character be a kung fu expert, and Cera handles it adroitly.
The other big lead is Mary Elizabeth Winstead as Ramona Flowers, the mysterious American girl with changeable hair who skates into Scott’s dreams… literally. Ramona’s a tough character; in the books O’Malley was able to give her enough vulnerability and humanity to make her more than a hot hip girl who all the boys want. That’s a character type guaranteed to turn off women, but Ramona has a huge female fanbase because there’s a person beneath that facade. Winstead finds that person; she does more with her huge, beautiful, almost anime-like eyes than many actresses of her generation do with entire performances. There’s always a danger that Ramona could end up one dimensional, but Winstead never allows it.
The big discovery of the film is Ellen Wong as Knives Chau, the 17 year old Chinese schoolgirl who Scott so quickly dumps for Ramona. Wong is filled with an explosive energy, throwing herself into lines and scenes with abandon and verve. She’s electric, but that doesn’t mean she’s one note; Knives has a great arc of her own, and Wong sells it with sincerity. There have been two different endings of Scott Pilgrim vs the World, ones where Scott ends up with either of the ladies. What’s amazing about the writing and the performances is that either ending feels right and happy. One feels righter, but both are essentially correct.
There are so many other great performances in the film. Scott Pilgrim vs the World is a well-oiled crush machine – no matter your gender or orientation and no matter your tastes, there is at least one person in this movie you’ll fall for. I’ve been a Kim Pine guy ever since the first issue of the book, and Alison Pill does an incredible job bringing her sarcasm and her slight sadness to the screen. Mark Webber seems to have been pulled right from the pages of the book, making a perfect Stephen Stills. And Jason Schwartzman is simply incredible as Gideon, the movie’s Final Boss. He’s walking smarminess, as slimy a villain as has been seen in cinema in years.
And there’s more to praise – the soundtrack is amazing, and more than a little aimed at old dudes like me. The Nigel Godrich stuff is great, filled with little nods to Goblin and John Carpenter but also very much its own thing, while the needle-drops and songs from the in-movie bands are spectacular. Beck created the music for Scott’s shitty band, Sex Bob-Omb, and it has that fuzzy, dinosaur bass sound that I loved from the middle 90s.
I’ve seen Scott Pilgrim vs the World, in one form or another, four times now. It’s a movie that grows with rewatches, as Wright has stuffed every moment of the film with something – a detail, a joke, a small character beat. On first viewing it’s possible to feel overwhelmed by just how much is going on, how many jokes are in there, how much action is in there, and by the relentless pace. But the film is digestible, even on a first viewing, and on future viewings it really blossoms. There’s an energy to the film that will send you out into the streets buzzing, and sometimes that energy can be confused with actual quality. There’s more than one review in the archives here written in an afterglow, and afterglows fade. I saw Scott Pilgrim for the first time in January, and the enthusiasm I have for the movie today is as strong as I felt eight months ago. I’m not writing this filled with buzz from a great screening or from the energy that came from the movie but from a measured, realistic evaluation of it over most of the year. When I tell you that Scott Pilgrim vs the World is a great movie, I’m coming from a place where I’ve carefully considered this film, where I’ve seen it again and again, and where I’ve let it live with me for a while. This isn’t a flash in the pan movie, this isn’t a movie that’s going to be forgotten in six months. There are movies opening this weekend that nobody will care about in a year; people will be packing theaters for revival screenings of Scott Pilgrim vs the World in 20 years. This isn’t just a great movie, it’s an important one.