Oasis/I, Robot

Bad bots: Alex Proyas almost does Asimov proud with I, Robot

According to Tinseltown's three dictates, summer blockbusters must have a box office megastar, escapist elements (compelling story, futuristic setting) and effects-laden set pieces that totally overwhelm the first two.

I, Robot combines a mundane murder mystery (by co-screenwriter Jeff Vintar) with Isaac Asimov's 1950 book about a future world where robots must obey three laws--they cannot harm humans, must obey human orders and can protect their own existence only if that doesn't violate the first two laws.

Mercifully, Egyptian-Australian director Alex Proyas (who made Brandon Lee's tragic 1994 swansong The Crow and 1998's masterful Dark City) retains enough of Asimov's chilling vision to counteract the studio-pic compromises.

Will Smith deploys all his raging charm as hard-bitten homicide cop Del Spooner who, in 2035 Chicago, investigates the death of Alfred Lanning (James Cromwell), co-founder of giant U.S. Robots Corp., whose filthy-rich boss, Lawrence Robertson (sinister Bruce Greenwood) reluctantly introduces him to robot psychologist Susan Calvin (ice-queenly Bridget Moynahan).

Unlike Arthur C. Clarke (Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey) or Philip K. Dick (Ridley Scott's Blade Runner,) the late, great Asimov hasn't quite had a film adaptation worthy of his genius. (Bicentennial Man, anyone?) Like LOTR's Andy Serkis/Gollum, Alan Tudyk provides the oleaginous voice and modeled the face movements for his amazingly expressive digitized character, a rogue robot that becomes prime suspect. But it'll probably be another decade before the techno-geeks' computers can iron out the robot armies' Phantom Menace-like jerkiness or the cheesy artificiality of the backgrounds. Till then, I, Robot almost disobeys the fourth Hollywood rule--that all summer movies must be mindless. It's refreshingly smart.--Anthony Allison

Love in a cold climate

If there is such a thing as a perverse tearjerker, the startling Korean film Oasis would be it. So disturbing and potentially scandalous is its subject matter that some (perhaps most) people will avoid it on the strength of nothing more than a brief description; but those brave enough to take a look will discover one of the most touching and original films to appear all year.

Sol Kyung-gu plays Jong-du, a three-time felon (assault, rape, and attempted manslaughter), out on parole and an embarrassment to his family. Shiftless and childlike, he bums cigarettes from strangers and has no idea how to behave in restaurants. His behavior achieves a new level of inappropriateness, however, when he cheerfully visits the family of the sanitation worker he killed, bearing fruit and an apology. But before he's forcefully ejected, Jong-du spies the man's daughter, Gong-ju (Moon So-ri), cowering in a back room and crippled by severe cerebral palsy. He returns later, when she is alone, and brutally attempts to force himself on the thrashing girl before pulling back in horror--he really likes her, you see.

Winner of no fewer than five Venice Film Festival awards, Oasis combines amazing performances--Moon So-ri is actually an able-bodied actress--with shocking fluctuations in tone, moving from moments of sincere sweetness to scenes of violent humiliation. As the love affair develops, director Lee Chang-dong inserts fantasy sequences where the couple are released from their physical and psychological bonds and permitted to behave like ordinary lovers. Surrounded by selfish and uncaring relatives (Gong-ju is abandoned to the care of neighbors in a squalid Seoul apartment, while her family lives in plush government housing for the disabled), the pair exist in a romantic bubble that only seems to intensify their joy in each other.

Daring and, at times, frighteningly accurate about human nature, Oasis deserves a wider audience than it's likely to attract. In its treatment of taboo themes, the film manages to be both realistic and humane: love doesn't demand perfection, even if lovers sometimes do.--Jeannette Catsoulis