Hints of a quasi-apocalyptic chill seem arbitrary-neither symbolic nor dramatic. The effect is like watching software run itself.
J. R. Jones
Nobody can top Mann's urban night scenes, with their oily neon and skyscraper light grids, but for the most part this plays like Heat without the heat.
Let's start with the fact that Hemsworth stars as the world's most brilliant hacker. Let that sink in for a moment.
The movie's most depressing feature is its naked pandering for overseas box office. If there's one thing worse than appealing to the lowest common American denominator, it's appealing to the lowest common global denominator.
It has a decent ludicrousness and Mann's one-of-a-kind talent for using digital photography and naturalistic light to complicate and invigorate anonymous spaces.
Given our brave new cyber world, someone in Hollywood is going to have to come up with a better way to do it. Watching actors tap out code as big buzzing screens of digital data flash on the screen just doesn't cut it.
[Mann's] closeup work on the characters themselves is shaky, perhaps in the hope that we won't notice they're made of cardboard.
Another silly cyber-thriller, almost saved by an intense Hemsworth and some bruising action.
Mann would rather be coasting the canals or stewing over crime scenes. The definiteness of computers seems to stymie him. For all his digital resources, his existentialism is analog.