Film Review | Pacific Rim

If the idea of giant robots pummelling the extraterrestrial life out of subaqueous aliens doesn't excite you, feel free to stop reading now. Honestly. You can stop. Now.

This is because Mexican director Guillermo del Toro (Pan's Labyrinth, Hellboy I and II) isn't making any concessions or excuses with his latest blockbuster epic - Pacific Rim.

Largely culled from what the Americans would call 'Saturday morning' Japanese cartoons - more familiar to us in their Italian-dubbed iterations - the film has three distinct (and by 'distinct' I really mean 'more or less interchangeable') human characters you need to concern yourself with. Raleigh Becket (Charlie Hunnam) is a pilot of giant robot machines - or 'Jaegers' - that have been created to counter attacks from undersea aliens, which began generations prior to him taking on the mantle. However, a family tragedy gets his own journey in motion: the death of his brother (Diego Klattenhoff) at the hand of one of said alien creatures - or 'Kaiju'. So Raleigh partners up with the young Mako Mori (Rinko Kikuchi), a novice pilot who barely makes it onto the Jaeger because their superior, Stacker Pentecost (Idris Elba), is strangely protective of her.

But the young guns will have to step up their game double-quick if they want the world to survive another Kaiju attack, because resident scientists Dr Newton Geiszler (Charlie Day) and Gottlieb (Burn Gorman) predict this to be the worst one yet, while also proposing a risky plan for our Jaeger pilots.

As perhaps becomes evident in the rushed prologue explaining this new, terrifying near-future world, del Toro and co-screenwriter Travis Beacham aren't all that concerned with crafting a gritty, thoroughly believable world. Instead, they seem to be keen to get this giant beast of a film on the road (and sea, and sky...) without all that much ado.

Though del Toro has won some clout in both cult and mainstream cinema circles for his ability to eke real drama and striking imagery out of what may have otherwise become pop culture dross - by dint of him being a dedicated, all-around fantasy/horror geek familiar with the aesthetic and psychological ins and outs of the genres he operates in. But make no mistake - Pacific Rim bears very little resemblance to Pan's Labyrinth (a horrifically beautiful fairy tale that problematises the idea of escaping into stories during hard times, set in Franco-occupied Spain). Any genetic resemblance to the Hellboy films is also tenuous - del Toro's adaptations of Mike Mignola's supernatural investigation comics left some space for shrewd characterisation, which is all but missing in the cookie-cutter boy scouts of Pacific Rim.

But this is not to say that the film is soulless. In fact, it's something of a small miracle that, despite its ludicrous, childish premise, every CGI-festooned frame of Pacific Rim pulsates with heart.

There are many who have speculated that del Toro - tireless and resourceful as he is passionate - got to making Pacific Rim on the fly, as a knee-jerk attempt to salve the pain of being robbed of a beloved pet project: a long-gestating adaptation of HP Lovecraft's cult novella At the Mountains of Madness, whose pre-production plug was pulled at the very last minute.

This may go some way to explaining why the film lacks some of the thematic texture of his previous output. But there's a positive side to this too: del Toro's love for the particular sub-genre he's working with here - you may remember the milieu (think Mazinga and Daitarn 3) - is evident in every crashing, swooping Jaeger vs. Kaiju wrestling match.

Here is why Pacific Rim trumps its apocalyptic/alien invasion comrades (I'm looking at you, Independence Day): it's made by someone who bears a genuine, childlike affection for his subject, not some cynical committee typing away while nestled in a Hollywood studio office.

Though there may be plenty of reasons to question and poke holes into the military raison d'etre of our good guys - why not just bomb the aliens with torpedoes from a safe distance? - only the most unforgivable killjoy will let this get in the way of the fun. Del Toro stages the fights as balletic skirmishes, which will be a joy to savour again and again. They'll have you squinting, ooh-ing, aah-ing and cheering, as machine tackles beast (and sometimes, the beast grows a surprise pair of wings...).

A subplot involving del Toro regular Ron Perlman (Hellboy himself) sadly has little room to properly shine despite being rich in potential: he's a black-market peddler of Kaiju remains (apparently, their ground bones are a great aphrodisiac) who one of our scientists surreptitiously employs and consults. This more earth-bound section of the story - taking us to a Blade Runner-esque, futuristic China - is also welcome for injecting some colour and humour that is sadly absent from the centre-stage, strictly military, main narrative.

Its premise is easy to sneer at, and it's far from perfect. But in a summer of lukewarm franchise sequels and uninspired rehashes, Pacific Rim is the proud, brash and shamelessly fun ride you've been looking for.