Jupiter Ascending

Jupiter Ascending (12A)

USA 2015 127 mins Dir: Andy, Lana Wachowski Starring: Mila Kunis, Channing Tatum, Eddie Redmayne, Sean Bean, Douglas Booth

For all its cosmos-spanning action and intergalactic intrigue, the appeal of Jupiter Ascending, the latest from Matrix filmmakers the Wachowskis, can be summed up by one thing: the absurdly fetishised, dorky hover boots worn by star Channing Tatum. It’s a movie that gestures towards classic space operas of old and yet despite its efforts to drag us into a dazzling galaxy far, far away, is never able to rise above a quintessentially juvenile ‘woah, dude’ mentality.

Featuring the kind of convoluted plotting and inane dialogue at which even George Lucas might blush, the story pivots around the eponymous Jupiter Jones (Mila Kunis). A seemingly lowly Chicago cleaner who, yes, dreams that she’s meant for better things, her life turns upside down when lupine/human (hover boot-wearing) bounty hunter Caine (Tatum) informs her that she’s heir to the powerful intergalactic Abrasax dynasty, who actually seeded the human race on a different planet on the other side of the universe. Not only that – Jupiter’s inheritance means her divine right is to rule the Earth, which puts her in danger from ruthless Abrasax Prince Balem (Eddie Redmayne).

When it comes to the actors, The Theory of Everything star Redmayne has it exactly right. Recognising the movie for the nonsense it is, he camps it up with a mincing, flouncing, whispery performance that makes it sound like he’s being strangulated by his own costume. Others fare less well. Kunis as ever is an engaging presence but there’s a central credibility problem as to how easily Jupiter accepts and embraces the knowledge of her alien heritage, whilst Tatum’s hunky hero never develops a personality outside of the frenetic CGI sequences. (He’s also forced to suffer the ignominy of a 25 minute shirtless sequence spanning not one but two planets.)

And yet, the Wachowskis throw so much at the screen visually that it’s hard to deny the craft on display. The sleek design of the various worlds – and subsequent eye-popping costumes – is a real feast for the senses, nothing less than a visual treat throughout. There’s also a pleasing, extended homage to Terry Gilliam’s classic Brazil (complete with cameo from the director), but it’s an isolated pleasure amidst an increasingly incoherent jumble of garbled exposition, a movie with the pretence of a richly textured space epic that ultimately makes no sense whatsoever.

Even so, it’s hard to begrudge the movie a sense of sheer, idiotic fun, especially when propelled along by Michael Giacchino’s energetic score (interestingly composed before the shooting started). Mercifully, for all the incomprehensible character names, there’s never a sense that anyone is taking this remotely seriously, least of all Redmayne.