Why Can’t We Be Friends?

Edgerton and Smith in Bright

“Why Can’t We Be Friends”

A Review of Bright by Nick Olszyk

FCC Rating, TV-MA

USCCB Rating, NR

Reel Rating, Two Reels            

            I would have loved to sit in on the brainstorming session that created the Universe for Bright. The movie is smorgasbord of strange fantasy and mythological elements thrown into a gritty cop movie that also serves as a Spike Lee inspired Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner. Think Lord of the Rings meets Training Day. Some of these elements, like an Orc’s determination to be accepted in a human dominated profession, work exceedingly well. Others, such as the random appearance of a dragon over the Los Angeles skyline, are confusing at best and downright stupid at worst. Yet what hurts Bright the most its grim tone and ultra-graphic violence, which spoil an otherwise fun buddy movie. Since Netflix has already ordered a sequel, hopefully it will be better the next ride around the block.

I’ll do my best to break down a confused mythology that rarely seems to understand itself. For thousands of years, orcs, elves, humans, and a few other random creatures have lived together on Earth, usually in conflict. Currently, there is an uneasy peace where elves operate in the upper regions of society, even having their own gated section of the city, while humans are the most populous and middle-class race, and orcs occupy lower socio-economic status. While it is rumored that magic exists, most people (meaning all races) are skeptical.

In this crazy world, LAPD Officer Daryl Ward (Will Smith) is a seasoned cop freshly back on duty after recovering from a bullet wound. Unfortunately, he has bigger problems than retaining his pension. His partner is Nick Jacoby (Joel Edgerton), the nation’s first Orc cop. Everyone except Jacoby thinks this is a bad idea. Things go from bad to worse after Ward discovers an ancient wand – a device Jacoby describes as a “nuclear bomb that grants wishes.” The body count rises as several gangs and underground organizations start looking for the object, including an Elvish cult that wants to use it to “raise the Dark Lord” and bring evil upon the Earth.

It is said the J.R.R. Tolkien was not fond of analogy, even finding faults with his colleague C.S. Lewis’ masterpiece The Chronicles of Narnia. Yet even Lewis would cringe at the ridiculously unsubtle symbolism in Bright. Jacoby and the Orcs are obvious stand-ins for any kind of oppressed minority. One cop brags about how his ancestors “killed Orcs by the thousands.” Another sarcastically tells him “Orc lives matter.” The Orcs themselves are frequently seen donning hoddies and spray painting concrete walls. Only rarely does this narrative feel like a genuine reflection on race relations rather a cheap gag, and usually it is found in Jacoby, who isn’t fazed by the comments and just wants to be a good cop. “I’ve been dreaming of this since I was a kid,” he tells Ward. When he finally acknowledges the racism, it’s done beautifully. “I know he wasn’t the guy [culprit] because he smelled different,” he tells Ward about an accused Orc. “That’s millions of years of evolution, but what court would hold it up?”

Despite relying on the fantasy element in most of its marketing, Bright is at heart a hard cop movie. Films like this usually have a great deal of violent content, but Bright takes this to the extreme, even showing a police officer getting his throat slashed slowly without ever turning away the camera. It’s unnecessary and hurts the overall jovial tone of the picture. By the end, everything is swept under the rug like nothing ever happened. Lies are created by the Magic Task Force to keep the public in the dark, and that means honoring bad people. The truth is always better, even when it hurts.

Bright tries way too hard to do way too much and doesn’t understand what it wants to be. There were some great moments of dialogue, and the acting, especially Edgerton, was brilliant, but if the story doesn’t make sense, the movie won’t work. In the past, it was a big moment when Netflix released a series or movie. But in 2018, when the media juggernaut has committed $8 billion to release two pieces of original content a week, they can’t all be The Crown. Like that amazing production, Bright would have been better as a series that took more time to explain the Universe. At least then, the audience might know what that dragon was doing over the Staples Center.