I saw Borderlands

Borderlands, produced by Avi Arad and Erik Feig and directed by Eli (Thanksgiving) Roth, who cowrote with Joe Crombie, is a new, dystopic fable about a mission-prone, ragtag alliance. To expand upon the video-game-based melodrama, the story lifts viable specks from Guardians of the Galaxy, RanXerox, Doom Patrol, Tank Girl, Spacehunter: Adventures in the Forbidden Zone, The A-Team, The Road Warrior, (The) Suicide Squad, The Dirty Dozen, The Expendables, The Magnificent Seven and many other comparable, outsider fables. This may not make Borderlands original, but it certainly secures its entertainment value. 

Headlining the story is a renowned, if not reckless bounty hunter/vault tracker, Cate (Thor: Ragnarok) Blanchett's Lilith, who seeks a "kidnapped," corporate kingpin's daughter (or perhaps more so, an adopted, Eridian clone), Ariana Greenblatt's bunny-eared Tiny Tina on the Planet Pandora. Tina may, in fact, hold the key to opening a tech-jammed vault that could purge Pandora of its chaos, or let more bleed through. Even Tina's dear ol' dad, Edgar Ramirez's President Atlas, doesn't quite know, but the greedy cuss is willing to let the cards fall where they may, no matter the consequences. 

Joining the reckless run are Kevin Hart's Roland (a top gun for hire, who pulled Tina from her entrapment out of the goodness of his heart); Jack Black's Claptrap (a wise-cracking, cyclopean, wheeled robot), Florian Monteanu's Krieg (Tina's humongous body guard and ex-Psycho gang member) and Jamie Lee Curtis' Dr. Patricia Tannis (a nebbish but accomplished archeologist with ties to Lilith's mom). To accompany these prime characters are such colorful personas as Benjamin Byron Davis' Marcus, Bobby Lee's Larry, Oliver Richters' Krom, Janina Gavankar's Commander Knox and Gina Gershon's Mae West-ish Moxie, among other meritorious compatriots and misfits.

To get from Point A to B, the borderland band encounters many, daunting diversions, namely the bloodthirsty Psychos and colossal creatures. The intersecting opposition forges the story's chunky center into a Buck Rogers/Flash Gordon baptism, in which the austerity allows the protagonists to brandish their skills and demonstrate their mettle. These segments also build a favorable, family dynamic, which in turn, allows one to appreciate and identify with the big-hearted scoundrels in a quick, collective way. (Hey, we may not be dealing with the Fantastic Four per se, but the unfeigned intent grazes similar turf.) 

The capable Roth juggles it all with his typical vigor, which invokes a Glenn Larson-meets-James Gunn overlay, incorporating 1970s/80s schtick with modern, superhero tropes. 

I had fun with this one, and though I've no idea if it'll spawn a sequel, it certainly has the ideal ingredients to defend the possibility. On the other hand, perhaps the movie will do no more than direct fans (back) to its video-game foundation, an effusive franchise that will persist, with or without a cinematic thread.