In the future of Uglies, adapted from the YA series by Scott Westerfeld, humanity has survived death by its own hands. First, a vaguely defined but elite corps of scientists developed a new, apparently infinitely renewable energy source. That cured us of our dependence on fossil fuels. (Sidenote: it’s hilarious that the only way people can quit fossil fuels is by developing something else to consume instead of, you know, wind, water, or solar power.)
However, humanity’s natural tendency towards tribalism continued to raise its ugly head. The solution there? Get rid of the ugly! A procedure, done on sixteen-year-olds, eliminates all imperfections, physical and psychological. That means, on the eve of your 16th birthday, maybe you are a kid with an overbite and a burgeoning anxiety disorder. After your birthday day “surgery” though? Your jaws align perfectly and your heart rate stops spiking out of nowhere. Yes, even when you think about that time you said something dumb at that party. Oh, and your eyes are gold now, too. For funsies.
On first blush, Uglies is a hodgepodge of dystopian fiction, especially of teen variety, remixed and reheated in a new mediocre shell. Pick your favorites of the genre and chances are this film will include at least one moment of “homage” to it. Enjoy a restriction on literature like found in Fahrenheit 451 or 2002’s “better than the Matrix” (real ones will get it) Equilibrium but want it to only ever so slightly mentioned? Uglies has you. Garish displays of beauty as a sign of elitism as in the Hunger Games? Check! A sort of return to the land, noble savage theme ala Brave New World? Got it. A have-and-have-nots society based on perceived genetic superiority akin to Gattaca? Of course. Better living through the elimination of pesky emotions? Well, you get the idea. Uglies has them all in the least thoughtful, most set-dressing way.
Where Uglies crosses from generic and bland to more risible is how little it considers the subtext of their sledgehammer obvious context. To start, nearly everyone on whom the camera lingers is beautiful. Joey King’s Tally and her best friend Peris (Chase Stokes) are fifteen-year-olds (that’s hilarious in and of itself) who live in a kind of boarding school for those too young to be made “pretty” yet. But look at King and Stokes. Not to get overly gaze-y about this sort of thing, but is there a world where those two aren’t in the top 1% of hotness?
A better film could, perhaps, make this commentary about how “perfection” has so badly twisted beauty standards. Unfortunately, Uglies gives no indication it has such big thoughts in its head. Without a single even unconventionally attractive person—not to even suggest someone “ugly” or “strange” looking—ever shown onscreen, the “procedure” feels like little more than an especially complicated makeup, hair treatment, and contact lens ritual. The shot composition and costuming don’t much help either. Again, not to be overly lascivious here, but dressing your attractive lead actress in a uniform commonly co-opted as a fetishistic outfit on the one hand while insisting she’s an “ugly” is a pretty heavy bit of cognitive dissonance for an audience to lift.
Maybe it’s time to invite some people into movies who aren’t just about the most attractive you’ve ever seen. Not to get all old man shaking his fist at clouds here, but the wall of pretty gets redundant. Some variety in appearance beyond simply different shades of gorgeous makes for a more interesting viewing experience. It’s impossible to look at this cast and see space for even some of the “cute nerds” of teen movies a generation ago.
What’s far worse than all the naturally pretty folk, though, is a narrative that makes surgical and pharmaceutical interventions the tool of the enemy personified by Laverne Cox’s Dr. Cable. Particularly now. Our world is filled with many vilifying surgical and hormonal methods. Ones that ensure trans people can see someone who feels more like themselves in their reflections. Uglies’ intended message is, of course, that theirs is a society grinding its citizens under the boot of fascism via the promises of beauty and an uncomplicated mind. But the real-world messaging of “these deviants are brainwashing our children in school to question and alter their bodies” being peddled by conservatives and TERFs sounds awfully similar to how the rebels, The Smoke, talk about all the Pretties in the city.
Taken in total, it makes Uglies a visually and philosophically ugly watch. While McG has never been the deepest of filmmakers, he’s had a talent for striking visual and fun storytelling. None of that is on display here. Instead, it feels like a slog at about 100 minutes, lacking even one striking action setpiece. Again, though, the bland might be forgivable if it wasn’t paired with such half-baked and recycled ideas so haphazardly assembled. It’s a movie that thinks it’s about freedom and nonconformity while spouting fascistic talking points about the superiority of the “natural.”
Uglies gazes at its reflection on Netflix starting September 13.