The Creator Movie Review: Treads a predictable yet affecting story with genre-redefining visuals 

The Creator belongs to a breed of sci-fi that envelops you with the sheer immensity of its world. A serene frame with a picturesque paddy field and an android farmer standing in the middle is all it takes for you to grasp the scale and lived-in reality of the world. We see many such scenes in the film where androids that look nearly indistinguishable from humans (known as Simulants) are seen in thoroughly mundane, grounded settings; as a farmer, or as a monk. The film might have overdone this visual storytelling device but not before it adds depth to the story. 

Director: Gareth Edwards
Cast: John David Washington, Madeleine Yuna Voyles, Allison Janney, Gemma Chan, Ken Watanabe 

While Gareth Edwards conjures up a distinct visual aesthetic for The Creator, the story carries echoes from several other films and series that came before. The plot feels predictable and familiar, even with its subversion of taking the AI’s side in the fight against humanity, contrary to sci-fi’s historic obsession with killer robots. While humanity is up in arms against the ubiquitous AI after a nuclear missile strike, we follow an ex-soldier named Joshua, who must protect a miracle child with the power to end the human-AI war. A world-weary hero on-the run with a child, who has extraordinary powers, is a trope aced by many films and series like The Last of Us, Logan, and The Mandalorian. The Creator also never offers any fresh perspectives on the many themes it tries to handle, like the AI debate, death, technology, consciousness, and war. However, the film manages to rise above these writing issues and connects to you with its earnest storytelling. 

Perhaps one of the biggest strengths of the film, apart from the enthralling visuals, is the performances. John David Washington brings an unconventionally grounded acting style to lead the story while Allison Janney keeps the tension taut in the film by playing the cut-throat Colonel Howell. However, the heart of the story is undoubtedly the phenomenal Madeleine Yuna Voyles, the child actor who plays Alphie. It is pretty clear what the writers’ intentions are when they create a character like Alphie. Their childish innocence and wide-eyed wonder are supposed to lend a sense of charm and cuteness to the story. As soon as you see Alphie on the screen, you know what they’re trying to do and so your mind immediately resists. However, with a performance that somehow holds both the emotional range of a seasoned actor and the immaculate charm of a debutant, Yuna Voyles eventually wins you over.  

For all the depth in world-building and attention to visual aesthetics, The Creator suffers from poorly written lines. The weakness in its screenplay is easy to overlook but the decidedly elementary dialogues pop out as insufferable distractions. It is especially grating when you get corny exchanges, like when the robot at the airport security asks Alphie, “The purpose of your visit?” and the child replies, “To be free” before mind-zapping the robot to let them pass. 

The film offers no radical plot twists or exciting plot elevations but that might be one of its strengths. Considering the scale of the story and the potential to make a blockbuster action film out of it, Gareth Edwards exhibits an incredible amount of restraint in holding on to the heart of the story. There are edge-of-the-seat action moments and a surprising amount of large-scale explosions but the film never makes unidimensional action heroes out of our protagonists. After you cross an underwhelming stretch in the middle, the film cranks up the focus on its emotional core. And before you know it, you realise that the warmth you feel at the bittersweet ending was enough to melt away every problem you had with the film up until then.

The Creator will be remembered for its stunning visual aesthetic that could be described as Neill Blomkamp meets Studio Ghibli. As for the rest of it, for all its faults, the film does have its heart in the right place. And even beneath layers of predictable plot, corny dialogues, and indulgent world building, you still feel its pulse and warmth.