One of the many problems with Hollywood blockbusters that have giant budgets and are created by committee is that they are so painstakingly researched, so micromanaged, that they lose not only any singular sense of vision, but also any sense of fun. Studio executives aren't out to make a good time; they're out to make money. For that reason alone, Kerry Conran's Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow is a breath of fresh air, a blockbuster-like film that was put together with what today qualifies as a modest budget ($60 million) and is entirely the vision of its first-time writer-director. He also essentially invented the effects process that allowed the movie to be shot solely in front of green screens on soundstages, with virtual sets and locations added in later by computer. Conran is obviously a dedicated craftsman (he spent nearly a decade crafting the six-minute short film that got him the budget to make Sky Captain), but he's also obviously having a blast bringing his dreams to life on screen, and that's more than you can say for the average hack hired to shepherd Jerry Bruckheimer's latest napkin scribble to the screen.
Sky Captain is a pleasant mélange of Conran's influences: the adventure serials of the 1930s and '40s, early comic books, German expressionism, art deco, George Lucas and Tracy-Hepburn comedies. Like avant-garde Canadian filmmaker Guy Maddin (The Saddest Music in the World), Conran has made a film that not only takes place in 1939, but looks like it was made in that storied year, as well. Using his dazzling special effects in service of his vision rather than in place of it, Conran crafts the tale of plucky New York City reporter Polly Perkins (Gwyneth Paltrow), chasing the story of seven renowned world scientists who've mysteriously disappeared. She's sidetracked by giant robots invading Manhattan, a menace stopped only by Joe Sullivan (Jude Law), the freelance hero known as Sky Captain, and naturally, Polly's ex-boyfriend.
Soon Joe and Polly are on the trail of Dr. Totenkopf, an evil genius bent on world destruction (what else?) who's behind both the giant robots and the missing scientists. With the help of Joe's gum-chewing, gadget-inventing sidekick, Dex (Giovanni Ribisi), and British naval commander (and Joe's ex-girlfriend, naturally) Franky Cook (Angelina Jolie, stealing every moment of every scene she's in), the pair track Totenkopf to a remote island, all the while bickering like Hepburn and Tracy or Bogey and Bacall.
The plot, like that of Conran's beloved old serials, or for that matter Star Wars, doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but it moves along at a quick pace and knows when to wink at the audience and when to play things straight. Conran shoots his actors in the soft focus of old films, which both helps them blend in better with the synthetic background and adds to the timeless feel. The cast members, forced to contend not only with the mannered patter of the past but also with reacting to all manner of ... well, everything that's not actually there ... do a remarkable job of selling the world Conran has created for them. Law, who's excelled in the past at playing characters in moral gray areas, effectively embodies the square-jawed, upright hero, and Paltrow, who already looks like a '40s-era movie star, could not be more perfect as Polly. Ribisi and Jolie both make the most of their small roles. Jolie's Tomb Raider movies, which tried unsuccessfully to achieve the same sort of adventure-serial good time, prepared her well for this role, and no one is able to say "Alert the amphibious squadron!" with as much authority and dry faux-British reserve as she.
It's hard not to marvel at the special-effects wonder Conran and his team of tech whizzes have created, and beautiful as it is, the spectacle works to the film's detriment at first. After about a half an hour, though, it's easy to forget about the artificial world and simply find yourself immersed in it. Conran throws in so many references that geeks will probably have to see the film multiple times to dissect its pedigree, but what matters most is simply the feeling of excitement and wonder he is able to create. That sense of wonder is what's missing from so many of the popcorn movies which on the surface seem like they would be similar to Sky Captain. Law has said in interviews that he views this as more of an art-house project than a mainstream movie, and anyone viewing it can easily see it the same way. George Lucas talks of creating whole movies with computer images, while turning out emotionless and mechanical films. Conran has actually done what Lucas aspires to, and what he's created is a living, breathing work of art.