Pacific Rim Reviews
That's exactly what the film feels like: a 48-year-old kid playing with gigantic action figures in the world's most expensive sandbox. Unfortunately, his deep-rooted passion never quite makes the leap from his imagination to the screen.
Some of those catchphrases are mildly clever. The lab coat mumbo-jumbo is amusing. The noble sentiments touch sweet chords. And who does not delight in seeing a robot punch a dinosaur every now and then - or pretty much constantly for two hours?
That humanistic touch is pure del Toro, and it makes all the difference in Pacific Rim, whose own whirring, glowing heart doesn't belong to any machine but to the director himself.
It is possible to applaud Pacific Rim for the efficacy of its business model while deploring the tale that has been engendered -- long, loud, dark, and very wet. You might as well watch the birth of an elephant.
You could make another film for half the budget in the time it takes to roll the end credits for CGI imaging. There's stuff to look at, but doesn't anybody care that it doesn't make a word of sense?
The squarest, clunkiest and certainly loudest movie of director Guillermo del Toro's career, a crushed-metal orgy that plays like an extended 3D episode of "Mighty Morphin Power Rangers" on very expensive acid.
The extinction of mankind has loomed again and again over Hollywood blockbusters the past couple of years, though never anywhere near as entertainingly as in "Pacific Rim.''
Even if you smirk at the plot conceit of mind-linked humans inside skyscraping robots fighting blockbuster sea beasts, the technical prowess on display can't help but impress.
They don't let 14 year-old boys direct multi-million dollar feature films, but somehow Guillermo Del Toro has channeled the interests, attitudes and fears from that mindset with a clarity that far surpasses contemporaries like Michael Bay.