Short Circuit

Guttenberg has yet to make a comedy that isn't all the more pleasant for his presence. Sheedy, meanwhile, is wholesomeness personified - almost a new Sally Field embodying the positive aspects of American willpower, energy and openness. She has talent. She has freckles. She is a star. Even robots fall for her. Badham wired this one up pretty good. [09 May 1986, p.D1]

Short Circuit fizzles a little at the end when the script becomes even more predictable and mawkish. But Badham's technological know-how can't be denied, and the pleasures of Number Five are considerable. [09 May 1986, p.27]

In Short Circuit, there's nothing at stake, either emotionally or artistically or howsoever -- and I mean nothing -- but the movie's so diverting, and so giddily oblivious to its own faults, that it almost doesn't matter. Funny and paced at a gallop, it's a melt-away movie made for summer nights. [09 May 1986, p.D1]

The running character of a dim-bulb scientist of Indian or Pakistani extraction, who is prone to malapropisms, badly accented English and Carson-esque wink-and-giggle innuendo, might not seem offensive in a better film. Here it seems designed only for cheap laughs. The laughs come. They are cheap. [09 May 1986, p.D5]

Having succeeded at a persuasive, endearing anthropomorphosis, the film makers have come up with only a so-so picture to go with it. All that was really needed to make Short Circuit a more satisfying experience was to up the script a couple of notches and apply a lighter touch to it. Unfortunately, director John Badham and his fledgling writers have taken a very broad, heavy-handed approach.

Too bad that robots, unlike humans, cannot be discovered in one movie and go on to star in another. I'd like to see No. 5 in a film more suitable to its talents.

The plot line is as simple as they come, and Badham's direction is as mechanical as his star. The human actors are secondary, for the real star of the show is Number 5. He's really pretty charming, though his unusual antics aren't enough to carry a feature-length motion picture.

[SPOILER ALERT: This review contains spoilers.]

A freak lightning storm causes a fighting automaton to spontaneously go sentient during a military demonstration. If you were sentient yourself in '86, no doubt you remember this one. It's the epitome of an eighties movie in all the wrong ways: bad comedy, forced plot developments, a big dose of cold war overtones, a valley girl accent, Steve Guttenberg... the list is awfully lengthy. We've even got a white man in brown face, though he does nothing terribly egregious or offensive beyond the (surprisingly convincing) makeup. Short Circuit manages to get by on the power of spirit and enthusiasm alone, which is itself another '80s stereotype. It's got energy to spare, plus absolutely no shame over its shortcomings, which makes it awkwardly endearing. Having said that, and appreciated it, the flick is often eye-roll bad, much worse than I'd remembered. Subtle like a bull in Pamplona and cheesier than a Kraft dinner, I felt a little embarrassed for being such a fan back when I could still count my age on two hands. My sons, though, only a few years removed from that age themselves, adored it, so maybe there's something innocent and beautiful about that. I guess some films are best viewed in the memory banks.