Lucy is such a terrible film that in the end even the amazing Scarlett Johansson cannot save it. It is sloppily made, and here I do not mean its adoption of the old popular-culture truism that we only use 10 percent of our brains. (The fuss created by that premise is quite wonderful.) There is just no eye for detail, however important. The blue crystals that make Lucy a superwoman are repeatedly referred to as a powder.
|Not powder. (Ask Walter White.)|
Morgan Freeman speaks of the “mens” he has brought together to study her. Lucy is diverted from her journey as a drug mule by persons unknown and for reasons never even remotely explained. And I defy anybody to make the slightest sense of the lecture Freeman is giving that introduces us to his brain scientist character.
But it does have An Idea at its heart. This idea is the new popular-culture truism that evolution is a matter of acquiring, sharing, and transmitting information — less “pay it forward” than pass it on. So the great gift that Lucy gives to Freeman and his fellow geeks at the end of the movie is a starry USB drive that, we are presumably to believe, contains all the information about life, the universe, and everything that she has gained in the course of her coming to use her brain to its fullest time-traveling extent. (Doesn’t she know that a Firewire connection would have allowed faster download speeds?)
Why this gift is necessary is a little mysterious since it looks like we now know how anybody could gain the same powers Lucy has; the dialogue does not give us any reason to believe that her brain-developing reaction to the massive doses of the blue crystals she receives, administered in three different ways, is unique to her.
The views, opinions and positions expressed by these authors and blogs are theirs and do not necessarily represent that of the Bioethics Research Library and Kennedy Institute of Ethics or Georgetown University.