Decades after the iconic Grid first captured our imaginations, the Tron franchise makes its return to theaters in an era increasingly dominated by artificial intelligence. Given its legacy of glowing digital landscapes and exhilarating light cycle battles, a comeback at a time when tech giants are seemingly peddling AI like a pyramid scheme is a bold move. Director Joachim Rønning appears conscious of this challenge, orchestrating the third installment, “Tron: Ares,” as a maximalist audio-visual symphony. It’s a film so sleek you could almost see your reflection in its digital sheen, yet it fully acknowledges its own narrative weaknesses. Here, the plot feels secondary; it’s the immersive experience of the Grid that truly commands our attention.
Rønning deviates from the ethereal, bio-digital jazz that characterized Tron: Legacy, instead opting for a more muscular and kinetic approach that remains equally hypnotic. The contemplative cyberspace explorations of Joseph Kosinski’s previous work are replaced with an unrelenting sensory assault. This full-throttle experience is designed to make audiences feel as if they’re strapping into a Recognizer themselves, delivering corporeal cinema at its finest.
The film, directed by Joachim Rønning, stars Jared Leto as the titular program Ares, alongside Greta Lee, Evan Peters, Jodie Turner-Smith, Hasan Minhaj, Arturo Castro, Gillian Anderson, and a cameo from Jeff Bridges. Clocking in at 119 minutes, its core storyline revolves around humanity’s first encounter with AI beings when Ares, a highly advanced program, ventures from the digital realm into the perilous real world on a crucial mission.
The narrative unfolds following the 15-year disappearance of Sam Flynn, creating a power vacuum now fiercely contested by two rival tech empires. ENCOM is championed by the idealistic Eve Kim (Greta Lee), while Dillinger Systems is helmed by the arrogant tech mogul Julian Dillinger (Evan Peters), whose ambition, amusingly, seems to involve an endless supply of Jared Letos. The central conflict revolves around the “permanence code,” a crucial piece of programming that promises to allow digital creations to exist beyond their brief 29-minute lifespan in the real world.
While the stakes are clear, Jesse Wigutow’s rather bland and superficial script occasionally renders them exasperating. After fifteen years, the screenplay feels like a product of uninspired committee brainstorming, seemingly oblivious to the elements that made the original films resonate. Yet, the often-ridiculous dialogue fades into insignificance, as the movie genuinely operates on an entirely different frequency.
That distinct frequency is none other than Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross. While Daft Punk’s iconic score for Legacy was a groundbreaking fusion of elegant electronic arpeggios and analog richness, Nine Inch Nails infuses “Ares” with an industrial pulse. Their soundtrack transforms the Grid into a visceral, vibrating entity. Every pursuit, explosion, and shimmering neon ribbon feels perfectly synchronized to this ‘particle-laser fever dream’ that resonates deep within your chest. What might have been a forgettable CGI spectacle is elevated into an unforgettable theatrical experience. The teeth-rattling bass of IMAX speakers, combined with the relentless tremor of your seat, solidifies this as corporeal cinema at its most potent.
The spectacle is almost constant. Rønning’s direction ensures there’s never a dull visual moment. Lightcycles carve trails of incandescent fury through cityscapes, while Recognizers stand as imposing industrial monoliths. Action sequences, featuring wingsuits, tanks, and assassin droids navigating the vast Sea of Simulation, are presented through a dizzying array of stylized perspectives. The film’s visual language masterfully incorporates the iconic aesthetics that forged the Grid into a cult symbol of digital fantasy, yet it boldly overlays the franchise’s core DNA with an almost militant postmodernist clash.
Jared Leto delivers a notably subdued and deliberate performance as the titular program, Ares. Initially, Ares functions as Julian’s perfectly obedient soldier. However, subtle moments—a raindrop on his hand, a firefly on his finger, a Depeche Mode track—hint at a “glitch” evolving into genuine choice. While there are clear allusions to Blade Runner in the self-actualization of his digital consciousness, this evolution largely remains predictable. Nevertheless, Leto’s Zen-like restraint keeps his portrayal compelling, even as discussions about his off-screen controversies continue to hover over the franchise’s legacy.
The film attempts to weave in philosophical questions about human ambition and the fluid boundaries between the synthetic and organic. However, these themes often feel clumsily inserted, like copy-pasted elements from superior sci-fi narratives. Ultimately, the movie prioritizes dazzling its audience over delivering sermons. Rønning skillfully renders these faltering philosophical explorations irrelevant, allowing the aggressive sensory spectacle to take center stage and eclipse any narrative shortcomings.
(A striking image from ‘Tron: Ares’ shows a character in the digital landscape, hinting at the film’s visual style. Photo: Disney)
A poignant moment arrives when Ares is transported into a luminous, retro 80s-inspired world, serving as a heartfelt homage to the original film. This scene beautifully reminds us why the franchise has cultivated such a devoted cult following. Here, Jeff Bridges makes a brief yet significant cameo as Kevin Flynn. His interaction with Ares – a few insightful words, a subtle wry smile, and a quiet affirmation of the program’s nascent consciousness – is surprisingly earnest and impactful.
Following Legacy, the franchise faced the risk of becoming little more than a digital mausoleum. Yet, “Ares” manages to restore its vital pulse. It’s true: the script can be at times dreadful, the characters lean heavily into archetypes, exposition feels dense, and the dialogue is often clunky. Despite these flaws, the film remains an unmissable experience. Rønning’s fluid, whip-smart choreography, combined with Nine Inch Nails’ visceral, body-rattling score, synergize to create a fully realized cinematic event that transcends the limitations of its screenplay.
The original Tron has always held a special place for evoking that dreamy, nostalgic ‘bio-digital jazz’. In “Ares,” this sensation has been derezzed and reprogrammed into a flamboyant, corporeal grunge experience. Ultimately, the film doesn’t aim to advance complex discussions on AI, identity, or impermanence. Instead, it seeks to stage an acid rock rave amidst any deeper philosophical musings, banking on the audience remembering the spectacular light show. This is a movie best experienced loud, large, and with an open mind, ready to be swept away by its sheer sound and fury.
Tron: Ares is currently running in theatres.