The film is essentially a far-fetched, sometimes muddled, cautionary tale about mankind being taken over by the machines that they themselves have created, albeit with the best of intentions.

I can’t remember the last time I was so befuddled after watching a film, as I was after watching Transcendence. Sure the core idea of the film is a grand one, the story gives an impression that it has some higher purpose or a point to make but part of it gets diluted. It makes some extremely interesting points but the execution doesn’t translate them all that well, hence the bafflement, which is unfortunate because the premise had the potential to make it to the big league.

This is cinematographer Wally Pfister’s maiden directorial venture which by modern criteria is a stylish off-beat humourless film with an atmosphere of a noir film.

The film, essentially, has no body. It does, however, have a soul. And souls, we’ve come to believe, live forever. I suspect, then, that it is the sort of film that, in time, will find an audience. The audience of today though, I’m sure, is likely to reject the film.