![]() ![]() In Passengers, Lawrence has big writerly dreams and a bottomless supply of posh space outfits Pratt is the salt-of-the-earth oaf whose main skill is fixing things. Pratt apparently has a yen for such gender dynamics: the Jim-Aurora relationship also has echoes of Jurassic World, in which Bryce Dallas Howard played the high-strung workaholic teetering away from dinosaurs in heels and Pratt was her low-key, earthbound savior. ![]() She is the one charged with animating lines like “We plan our lives like we’re the captains of our fate, but we’re passengers we go where fate takes us.” It obviously evokes another story of a working-class guy romancing a rich girl on a malfunctioning ship, but where Titanic leans into its old-timey, ladies-first clichés as a swoon delivery device, Passengers wants so badly to be modern that its characterization of Aurora as a breathy damsel is much more head-scratching. Meanwhile Lawrence’s Aurora, through no fault of her own, is so banal that the movie’s pathos frosts over as soon as she begins talking. He projects none of the shellacked confidence of most action heroes his Jim is a sweet sitcom goofus trapped in a Renaissance sculpture’s body. Pratt continues to be one of the most personable on-screen presences in Hollywood. Of course, even Arthur is a prop designed to make the two marquee stars seem all the more warm and authentic by comparison. ![]()
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