I Am Number Four (Review)

There’s very little to recommend in I Am Number Four. It has no reason to exist, it looks terrible, and it was clearly thrown together as a cash-grab with little thought given to creativity. The amount of risks it takes can be counted on one hand. It exists in one of those movie universes where the high school is populated by a bunch of good-looking Abercrombie and Fitch model types; most of them blonde. It combines a lazy runaway alien plot with a Twilight-esque love story, making it the exact kind of movie I should hate with every fiber of my being, but why did I find myself smiling more often than not? I Am Number Four was one of those strange movie-going experiences where I fully knew what I was watching was one of the laziest movies ever, but for some reason I stayed with it the entire time.

Alex Pettyfer plays an alien who goes by the alias of John Smith, which is subtle. He tries to live a normal teenage life (he even owns a prominently featured iPhone!) but the being-from-another-planet thing kind of keeps getting in the way. It turns out he’s being hunted by the Mogadorians, another alien species that we know is evil because they wear all black, they’re bald with tattoos on their heads, and they have gills or something.

Anyway, the Mogadorians have come to Earth to hunt down all the teenage aliens that are hiding on Earth. They can only kill them in ascending numerical order, because if they don’t they must have to start over or something. It’s never explained. Anyway, our hormonal friend John Smith is number four, and now that the first three have been eliminated the Mogadorians have moved on to him. Now John must balance the perils of being a teenager, a love interest played by Glee’s Dianna Agron, and the whole being-hunted-by-an-evil-alien-species situation. Oh, high school!

Despite the artificiality of it all, somehow I Am Number Four is able to tread familiar (and ridiculous territory) with more energy and competence than the normal teenage supernatural romance thriller (which is a genre now, sadly). The acting is unusually engaging, and I was particularly impressed with Pettyfer. Perhaps this is because my expectations were nonexistent, but he seemed like he was actually trying to, you know, act. Let’s not start the Oscar campaign quite yet, but I was impressed by the fact that actually made you care a little bit, if not all that much. Also helping is Timothy Olyphant as Pettyfer’s caretaker of sorts, and a relatively fun performance from Cullan McAuliffe as the un-geekiest geek in movie history.

I Am Number Four was directed by D.J. Caruso, who’s made a career of ridiculous, pointless films that actually can be kind of fun. The blatant teenage Hitchcock rip-off Disturbia was quite good, and I liked Eagle Eye more than most, despite the fact it’s insane. It would be wrong to call his direction of I Am Number Four “good.” In fact, it’s frequently awful, particularly in an opening chase scene which is impossible to follow. Everything is simultaneously glossy and ugly; thanks to the fact the film looks like it was shot on a handheld camcorder. This doesn’t look like a movie so much as it looks like a CW show.

Also responsible for this worthless piece of glorious trash is everyone’s best friend Michael Bay, who continues flaunting his uncanny ability to latch on to an obvious cash-grab when he sees one. I Am Number Four is based on a book written by Jobie Hughes and James “A Million Little Pieces” Frey which was released with the intention of becoming a movie. There is not a genuinely creative bone in this story’s body, and that should make it one of the most detestable films in recent memory. Somehow, it isn’t. For me, at least.

Strictly speaking, I Am Number Four is a terrible movie. I cannot recommend it, but I’m strangely glad I saw it. The final act nearly enters “so bad it’s good” territory due to its brazen absurdity, but at the end of the day I must admit that most of the people who see this movie will hate it. They’re probably right. The film seemed to catch me in a strange, forgiving mood, so take everything I say with a grain of salt. In fact, just grab the whole shaker. We probably don't need to keep enabling Michael Bay like this.

Rating:  (out of 4)