After more than four decades, Tron: Ares shifts the franchise’s premise: instead of humans entering the digital grid, programs cross back into reality. Directed by Joachim Rønning, this third entry picks up the saga years after Tron: Legacy, attempting to deepen the exploration of what digital consciousness means.
Unfortunately, this daring concept falls short of delivering a thought-provoking meditation, morphing instead into a fast-paced action spectacle resembling a tech commercial for 3D printers.
At the heart of the story is Ares (Jared Leto), a highly sophisticated AI created to be the perfect soldier. The film tracks his journey as he navigates the messy boundary between program and personhood.
Opposing him is Julian Dillinger (Evan Peters), head of a rival corporation willing to exploit any means to seize control of a mysterious “permanence code,” the key to allowing digital entities to survive indefinitely in the real world.
Supporting them is Eve Kim (Greta Lee), the cool-headed CEO of ENCOM, whose brilliance is motivated by the loss of her sister.
The Struggle to Humanize Ares
Jared Leto’s portrayal of Ares is one of the film’s greatest challenges. Tasked with embodying a machine’s awakening to human sensations, Leto delivers a visually striking presence, but his performance often feels detached and vacant.
Ares’ wonder at simple human experiences, raindrops on his arm, and the allure of music by Depeche Mode should be moments of transformation, yet Leto’s muted expressions create an emotional distance.
This detachment makes it difficult for audiences to root for Ares’ evolution or empathize with his developing conscience.
The film leans heavily on this classic Frankenstein narrative of a created being striving for autonomy. Ares encounters echoes of Kevin Flynn’s digital consciousness and wrestles with why he feels what he cannot fully understand.
While the philosophical groundwork is promising, it is hampered by a surface-level script and a frenetic editing style that often prioritizes spectacle over substance.
Visuals and Action: A Mixed Bag
One of Tron: Ares’s undeniable strengths is its visual design. With Jeff Cronenweth as cinematographer and editing by Pietro Scalia, the film boasts slick, neon-lit sequences, intense light-cycle chases, and futuristic battlegrounds that honor the original Tron’s geometric aesthetic while attempting a more modern, “naturalistic” feel.
Yet, the two realities, digital and physical, end up too similar, diluting the franchise’s trademark contrast and wonder.
Tron: Ares (Credit: Paradox)
Action scenes are plentiful, featuring everything from sophisticated hacking duels aboard airborne gliders to massive combat with units wielding advanced tech and weaponry. The addition of Nine Inch Nails’ pulse-pounding soundtrack promises energy but often overwhelms scenes with noise rather than momentum.
Conversational sequences during chase moments struggle to balance character development with escalating thrills, resulting in chaotic, sometimes incomprehensible exchanges.
Characters Lost in the Crossfire
Amid the action, human stories flicker but fail to fully ignite. Greta Lee’s Eve Kim brings warmth and intelligence to her role, providing the film’s emotional core, yet her motivations occasionally get buried under corporate intrigue and digital warfare.
The grief driving her efforts, losing a sister to technology’s shadow, is a missed opportunity for deeper emotional resonance.
Julian Dillinger, played by Evan Peters, embodies the reckless ambition of tech moguls but leans into villainy stereotypes without added complexity.
Athena (Jodie Turner-Smith), a lethal digital program, is compelling as the embodiment of unflinching obedience, intensifying the threat against Eve and Ares. Still, the characters’ intimate struggles often feel sidelined by the film’s relentless action pacing.
Missed Opportunities and Franchise Fatigue
Tron: Ares rehashes many story beats from Legacy without expanding or critiquing the philosophical questions at the franchise’s core. Technology’s promise and peril have been central before, yet this film treats those themes more as a backdrop than driving narrative forces.
The mysterious “permanence code” symbolizes endless digital life but remains insufficiently explored beyond its plot functions.
The film’s climax revisits the original Tron grid, delivering a nostalgic visual moment that momentarily rekindles the spirit of adventure missing from much of the story. However, the scene feels more like a fleeting detour within an otherwise formulaic stretch of franchise filler.
Tron: Ares is an ambitious attempt to update a beloved sci-fi series, delivering visual dazzle and some intriguing ideas about consciousness and identity.
However, its overstuffed plot, underdeveloped characters, and lack of emotional engagement prevent it from truly resonating. Jared Leto’s Ares, while conceptually fascinating, lacks the charisma or complexity needed to anchor the film’s themes.
For long-time fans, the movie offers enough nods and high-tech spectacle to entertain in bursts. For newcomers, it may feel like a confusing, noisy action film found lacking in soul. Ultimately, Tron: Ares stands as a reminder that even the brightest neon lights cannot mask a story struggling to find its heart.
Maintenance Required is the latest adaptation inspired by the 1937 Hungarian play Parfumerie, famously reimagined in The Shop Around the Corner and You’ve Got Mail.
Lacey Uhlmeyer’s film transplants the classic story of anonymous romance and business rivalry into the gritty world of two competing auto repair shops in Oakland.
Here, Charlie (Madelaine Petsch) runs a female-led garage lovingly inherited from her father and battles Beau (Jacob Scipio), a corporate-backed competitor with a charismatic but conflicting edge.
Despite acknowledging its cinematic forebears with occasional references, Maintenance Required struggles to capture the charm and nuance that made its predecessors resonate.
The film aims for a modern twist by foregrounding themes of female empowerment and small business survival, yet falters in delivering engaging character depth or narrative momentum.
Characters Under Pressure Without Direction
Madelaine Petsch shines in many scenes as Charlie, bringing warmth and charm to a woman who pits herself against the odds to keep her father’s garage alive.
The chemistry between her and Katy O’Brien’s Kam and Madison Bailey’s Izzy enlivens early moments, their banter crackling with humor and camaraderie. Kam’s social butterfly energy and Izzy’s customer-friendly warmth support Charlie’s underdog status effectively.
Yet, Charlie’s portrayal as a “grease monkey” clashes with her consistently polished look and poised composure, often undercutting the film’s grounded intentions.
It’s difficult to reconcile her skill in hands-on car repair with the appearance of someone primed more for front-page fashion than mechanical labor. Scenes implying her discomfort with male attention feel unconvincing when juxtaposed with her confident presentation.
Jacob Scipio’s Beau is a puzzle. He’s both a devoted car enthusiast and a ruthless corporate agent tasked with upending Charlie’s business. His personality oscillates between a charming car lover and a cold mercenary, manipulating prices and crushing competitors.
This contradiction holds potential for internal conflict but is never fully explored, leaving Beau more of a caricature than a complex figure.
The film’s central device, an anonymous online correspondence between Charlie and Beau, offers a classic setup. Yet, the script provides limited insight or emotional growth through their text exchanges. Unlike You’ve Got Mail, Maintenance Required’s voice-overs feel uninspired, rarely revealing new layers beneath the surface.
The Clash of Small Businesses and Corporate Power
At the heart of Maintenance Required is a conflict that reflects real-world tensions: the fight between a beloved local business and a sprawling corporate chain. Jim Gaffigan’s Mr. Miller heads Miller Boys, a conglomerate doubling as a villainous figure whose overwhelming presence threatens O’Malley’s garage.
Maintenance Required (Credit: Prime Video)
The depiction of Miller Boys and its executives borders on the cartoonish, evoking caricatures akin to Austin Powers’ Dr. Evil or Barbie’s corporate villains. Gaffigan’s flanking blondes flick smoke, and the corporate greed is scripted with broad strokes, undermining any subtle critique of capitalism or gentrification.
Beau enthusiastically revels in manipulating prices and squeezing clients, contrasting with moments when he proposes converting classic cars to electric, hinting at a better future.
However, this artist-versus-capitalist tension plays out inconsistently, diluting dramatic potential. Many of these character traits are confined to dialogue that seldom feels organic or emotionally charged.
Romance Struggles to Spark in a Crowded Garage
The romantic thread between Charlie and Beau possesses undeniable chemistry on-screen but is hampered by clumsy writing and contrivances. Beau’s duplicitous identity online confidant and real-life opponent creates tension, but also feels forced.
The film expects us to accept Charlie’s reluctance to share personal information even as she spends hours messaging a stranger, a discrepancy never convincingly addressed.
Their relationship’s development is slow, and when the truth emerges, the subsequent fallout and forgiveness feel rushed and lack emotional payoff.
The film’s scripting around their breakups and makeups does little to hook viewers emotionally, leaving the romance feeling perfunctory in a story that otherwise clings to major plot points without subtlety.
The supporting characters fit familiar rom-com archetypes, with best friends pushing for romance and stirring up drama, but they do little to enrich the story. Moments like Izzy opening a nail salon in the garage reception add a touch of humor, yet they fail to bring greater depth to the unfolding drama.
Style Over Substance: The Film’s Biggest Challenge
Visually and tonally, Maintenance Required wavers between grounded realism and stylized flares reminiscent of Riverdale’s neon palette and heightened affectations. This stylistic ambiguity confuses the film’s identity, making it hard to gauge if it strives for authentic romantic comedy or a heightened soap-opera pastiche.
Narratively, it attempts to weave multiple threads of online romance, business rivalry, female empowerment, and classic car restoration into a cohesive whole, but ends up tangled. The story’s pacing suffers, often stalling on exposition or inconsequential subplots.
Scenes meant to build emotional resonance, such as Charlie’s late-night repairs on “Marge,” her father’s beloved Bronco, linger but rarely transcend to genuine warmth or depth.
Final Assessment: A Car That Needs Serious Maintenance
Maintenance Required is a romantic comedy with promising ingredients: talented leads, a rich backdrop, and a classic storyline with a modern twist.
Unfortunately, it sputters through a screenplay weighed down by inconsistent character motivations, predictable plot beats, and a failure to update the emotional stakes its predecessors expertly handled decades ago.
Petsch and Scipio share undeniable screen chemistry, but this is never fully capitalized on. Their characters remain frustratingly underdefined, caught between caricature and complexity without fully becoming either.
Supporting characters and thematic ambitions never gain enough traction to lift the film beyond its clunky mechanics.
As a homage to classics like You’ve Got Mail and The Shop Around the Corner, Maintenance Required is respectful but lacks the charm, wit, and character insight that made those earlier films beloved. It settles for spectacle over substance, style over spirit.
For viewers wanting a breezy romance with vintage motors, it may offer moments of distraction. For those seeking a fresh or meaningful update to a cherished narrative template, this film might leave you wishing for a long-overdue tune-up.
