Looper is getting a lot of review hype i.e. “groundbreaking!,” yet is it really worthy of such praise? In a word, no. The premise of the movie is that in the near future time travel is possible, but outlawed. However, in the near future, disposing of a body is also very difficult. So, crime lords do in fact use time travel to send people back in time who they would like bumped off and have assassins called loopers kill them there (or then?).
Mmm so it is next to impossible to dispose of a body in the future. Really? No incinerating with fire, no acid in the bath tub, or the old tried and true hack up and dispose at sea? Really? can’t be done? Time travel is the only sure fire way to safely dispose of a body. The movie does nothing to sell us on this notion.
And time travel is possible, but the only people using it are criminals and they only use it to send back people they want killed. Really? Wouldn’t criminals find more lucrative uses for time travel? Wouldn’t governments and other factions have an interest in time travel, even if it was outlawed?
And don’t get me started on the ridiculous notion of requiring the loopers to one day personally execute their older self. Really? Wouldn’t it make more sense to assign this task to any other looper, anyone other than the same person, only younger? Yes of course it would.
Finally, does Joe Simmons’ choice in the end really change anything other than his own future? Will the Rainmaker still not rise in the years to come? One may argue that Joe’s fate ensures it as the older Joe will not be available to travel back in time to kill the boy before he becomes the Rainmaker.
I could go on about the lack of near future feel – the year is 2047 – other than a new recreational drug administered via eye drops, but I will cut to the chase: save yourself the time and effort and go buy 12 Monkeys instead, a much better – in fact awesome – Bruce Willis time travel movie.
I first discovered Thomas Ligotti in the pages of Weird Tales and was happy to see this collection available. There is a sense of “Lovecraftianess” to Ligotti’s style of prose, yet unlike lovecraft’s work, you will find no tentacles or tombs here. The strange and quirkiness of these stories lies beneath the ordinary much like Rod Sterling’s Twighlight Zone. Teatro Grottesco is a worthy collection of the dark and weird and a satisfying introduction to Ligotti’s short fiction.