Anyone who’s ever had to write a term paper knows what it’s like to feel blocked. You know what you want to say, but you don’t know where to begin. Or, worse, you don’t know what to say at all. So what if you could take a pill and take away that block? What if you could access every experience and every memory, allowing you to do more than you ever imagined? In the frantic thriller Limitless (based on Alan Glynn’s novel, The Dark Fields), struggling writer Eddie Morra (Bradley Cooper) grabs the chance and runs with it.
While he’s wandering down the street, contemplating the mess his life has become, Eddie runs into his ex-brother-in-law, Vern (Johnny Whitworth), who claims to have the solution to all of his problems: a clear little pill known as NZT48, which allows users to access 100% of their brain, as opposed to the usual 20%.
Hesitant at first, Eddie eventually decides that he’s got nothing to lose—so he gives the pill a try. Suddenly, everything seems so much clearer. On NZT, he can accomplish more than ever before. So when the pill wears off, he knows that he has to get his hands on more.
Of course, nothing this good comes without a price—and while Eddie reaps the rewards, he also starts to understand the cost.
Director Neil Burger must have been taking NZT when he made Limitless—because he somehow managed to create a smart and stylish thriller that accomplishes more than the average action movie. More than just a bunch of blurred fights and drawn-out chase scenes strung together, Limitless is like a cool and crafty merger of Wall Street and Trainspotting—both an exploration of the fast-paced world of investments and acquisitions and a tripped-out journey through an addict’s altered mind.
Burger also does an excellent job of pulling viewers into the experience. Whenever Eddie’s on NZT, the film is hyperactive and over-saturated. It’s brighter and clearer and more colorful than real life. It’s faster and prettier and more intense. But when the effects wear off—or they start backfiring—the brightness starts to fade and the fast pace turns from exhilarating to nauseating. It’s all just a matter of visual techniques—but Burger uses them brilliantly.
Though it has a handful of minor plot holes and inconsistencies, the film’s most glaring flaw is its conclusion. The closing scene is definitely a surprise—but it’s anything but satisfying. Instead, it feels pasted-on—dropped out of nowhere, with no development or explanation of any kind. It’s short. It’s abrupt. And it’s sure to leave you scratching your head as you leave the theater, wondering, How the heck did that happen? Perhaps, with a few extra minutes of development, it would have made more sense—or maybe it just needed to be scrapped altogether and traded for something more fitting. But it’s a shame that such a slick thriller would come to such a frustrating end—because, despite the film’s sharp action and clever plotting, it’ll leave you with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach. It’s a little like eating a big, spicy burrito. You may have loved every spicy bite, but, after you finish, what you remember the most is the nasty case of heartburn it gave you.
Apart from the perplexing conclusion, though, Limitless is a solid—and wildly entertaining—action-thriller. It’s sure to keep you under its spell through every one of Eddie’s bright, sparkling highs and murky lows.
Blu-ray Review:
The Blu-ray release of Neil Burger’s Limitless is just as fast and flashy as the film itself. In addition to two versions of the film—both theatrical and extended versions—the Blu-ray disc also includes a few extras. Viewers who were as unhappy with the film’s conclusion as I was will head straight for the alternate ending, which leaves things a little more open-ended. But you might also want to check out the two short making-of features. A Man without Limits focuses on Bradley Cooper’s Eddie—about the character, his changing looks, and his on-screen journey. Taking It to the Limit is a more general making-of feature, discussing everything involved in the frantic 44-day shooting schedule, from the sets and color palettes to the stunts and effects.
Both featurettes have the same slick style as the film—and the same frenetic pace. And, since they both cover quite a bit of ground in a short amount of time, they’re worth a look. Or, if you want to go much deeper, try the director commentary (included with the extended version), in which Burger goes into more detail about things like effects, pointing out the interesting techniques he used—like the cool infinite zoom during the opening credits. Of course, it requires more of a time commitment, but Burger keeps it interesting.