‘Chappie’ Offers up Rave Rap Ridiculousness and Little Else

Sometimes, a movie throws you for a loop, its surreal set of concepts never come together as a cohesive whole. Still, they can be appreciated for the elements they do get right, and the things with promise but no payoff. And then there;s the movie that is so far outside said loop that you’ll never cotton to it, no matter how hard the filmmaker is trying.

Chappie is that kind of experience, a weird combination of science fiction and South African rage-rap culture that’s so off key, so shrill and disorienting that you can’t see the good for the god-awful. Neill Blomkamp, rapidly reducing his reputation to one hit (District 9) wonder status, has decided to let a band called Die Antwoord be the voice of his new project. If their music is anything like their acting, they’re an affront to at least two different mediums.

Ninja and Yo-Landi are supposedly representative of something called the “zef” movement, a South African combination of the crass and the everyday marked by a devotion to trashy, discarded cultural elements. If by this they mean hideous white hip-hop half-speak, bad prison tattoos, and haircuts circa a Barbie and a pair of scissors, then they more than encapsulate said concept. And these are our stars.

Yes, Hugh Jackman and Dev Patel are also on hand, but it’s Die Antwoord and a CG robot that take center stage. The dichotomy between the two sides is stunning. It’s a battle between professionals and pretenders.

Patel is Deon, a star engineer in Michelle Bradley’s (Sigourney Weaver) high tech robotics company. Having just been embraced by the city of Johannesburg as a means of providing police protection to the populace, everyone is happy with the new drone scouts. Everyone, that is, except Hugh Jackman’s Vincent. An ex-soldier with his own militarized machine ready to patrol the streets, he wants Deon to fail and will stop at nothing to undermine his current efforts to place actual consciousness into one of his automaton.

In the meantime, Ninja and Yo-Landi (yes, they use their stage names here) are in trouble with a gang leader who can best be called “Prison Rapist” (for that’s exactly what he looks like). They own him millions and decide that the only means of payback is an armed vehicle heist. Of course, they have to countermand the robot police somehow, so their next brilliant idea is to kidnap Deon and make him “switch them off”.

Turns out, our scientist is hiding a secret: he has stolen a droid and intends to turn it “human”. Some fast movements over a computer keyboard later and “Chappie” (voiced by Blomkamp regular Sharlto Copley) is born.

At first, Chappie is a child-like innocent. He is afraid of everything and unsure of this new world around “him”. But as Ninja and Yo-Landi brainstorm with the rest of their crew, they come up with another plan: they will use the robot as a way of getting the money they need. In the meantime, Vincent finds out what Deon has done and uses that information to override the city’s security. In a panic, they let the villain unleash his ED-209 wannabe, and before you can say Robocop, Chappie and this flying weapon are battling it out in the middle of a shootout between Ninja and Prison Rapist.

You can tell that Chappie has narrative to spare. Sadly, it doesn’t seem like that during the over two-hour run time. Instead, we are bombarded by Die Antwoord’s constant copping of African American rap, which he regurgitates as a bunch of mindless ebonics and a worship of “bling”. It’s like listening to your grandparents cite Public Enemy lyrics as a source of inspiration.

But there are more problems here than a pair of amateur actors arguing in incomprehensible sing-speak while their robot “child” mimics them in equally unappealing ways. Blomkamp is clearly intrigued with the idea of artificial intelligence, but in his mind, a consciousness is not about thought. It’s more like the anti-smoking commercial from the ’60s which posited “Like father, like son? Think about it, won’t you?” We are supposed to be angry that Chappie has become part of a goofy criminal underworld.

The same rationale applies to the inner office competition between Deon and Vincent. With only one prototype to work with, the latter is clearly behind the eight ball when it comes to being taken seriously. Yet, even without real evidence of its effectiveness, Vincent believes his walking tank will be a better police solution than Deon’s proven — and we stress this, proven — man-machine methodology. Their last act battle, brought on by one of the most dangerous “pranks” ever pulled by a fellow employee, makes the entire movie seem like a satire. There’s no fail safe, no means of controlling the growing contingent of robo-cops except this? Seriously?

But it’s Die Antwoord that’s the real problem here. Just ask Alex Cox how successful he was when he cast almost every ’70s and ’80s punk icon in his spaghetti western romp, Straight to Hell. Had Blomkamp simply avoided such stunt casting and put two real actors in these roles, perhaps Chappie would be better. It might also explain the chopped, cobbled together feeling to most of the action (apparently, Ninja was a horror onset, requiring the filmmakers to make quick, editorial choices with the character on the fly).

Whatever the case, this is a movie that functions on its own unique wavelength. Sadly, it’s out of sync with what audiences will want.