We always hope for their success, but it’s never surprising when a sequel fails to live up to its predecessor’s success. It’s happened time and time again, leading to the end of franchises that never went as far as they deserved, or careers that failed to launch when fans’ expectations weren’t met. Even huge franchises aren’t immune to this trend, with films like Iron Man 2 and Thor: Love and Thunder bombing in comparison. But what’s more disappointing than a studio giant failing to garner a few million extra views is when the follow-up to a beloved cult classic, one that didn’t get nearly the love that it deserved, forgets what its predecessor was all about, sending a message in direct opposition to what made the first film so special.
And that was exactly the issue with Pacific Rim: Uprising. What should have been a continuation of the themes of love, acceptance, and grief brought to life in the first Pacific Rim film through the always dreamlike vision of Guillermo del Toro and the stunning visuals that, at no point, overtake the emotional narrative, ended up being a hollow, style-over-substance attempt at an action blockbuster, scoring worse with audiences than it did even with critics. And while hating on the sequel for the sin of not being the original happens over and over, fairly or not, that isn’t the case with Uprising—it deserves the shade it gets, not because it attempted a new story, but because it forgot its roots entirely.
The plot of Uprising centers around Jake Pentecost, a once-promising Jaeger pilot and the son of the man who gave everything, including his life, in a bid to save humanity from what everyone thought was a losing battle against the Kaiju that threatened to destroy them. But of course, as the prodigal son, Jake has abandoned his training and become caught up in the seedy criminal underworld. The world soon finds itself in need of a hero once more when a new threat is unleashed, and Jake is given one last shot at redemption by his estranged sister, Mako Mori, in hopes that he can live up to their father’s legacy.
For all intents and purposes, it should have worked as a sequel. Nothing is more endearing than a hero’s journey, especially one centered around a character prone to moral grayness or beleaguered by a legacy they feel they have no chance of ever living up to; it was a narrative combination that made Pacific Rim as beloved as it was, focusing not only on Raleigh’s journey through grief and not being the man his brother was, but Mako’s demand that she be treated with the respect she had more than earned through her hard work and determination under Stacker Pentecost’s tutelage and care. The potential was through the roof, especially with John Boyega starring as Jake. But what we got was reminiscent of del Toro leaving his tools and a perfect blueprint behind, only for the new filmmakers to come in and grab what they felt was bright and shiny, abandoning the far more interesting monsters and narrative in favor of adding a Marvel-like sheen to a story that didn’t need it.
Pacific Rim never achieved critical acclaim. It sits at a 72% critics’ rating on Rotten Tomatoes—better than some, worse than others. But what the film managed to do nearly immediately upon its release was to enter cult classic status, earning itself a die-hard fanbase. The reason for that ride-or-die mentality? The heart, enthusiasm, and nuance that Guillermo del Toro brings to every one of his films. While this might be a robots-versus-monsters movie on the surface, Pacific Rim delved deeply into the human condition, asking not only what it means to be human but also what makes humanity worth saving in the first place. The answer? Connection.
Uprising possessed none of that, hoping, instead, to capitalize on the robots-versus-monsters aspect and using a main character’s last name to manufacture a sense of familiarity with a story that had little in common with its predecessor aside from giant robots and big, scary monsters. It fell prey to the over-polished and underdeveloped trend that has had Hollywood in a death grip for the last decade, pushing out films that feel more like content than stories; there’s just nothing there worth rooting for, beyond hoping humanity doesn’t get utterly wiped out. And that fact is made all the more disappointing considering that the answer to “what can we do to make this movie special” was right there, laid out in the story that pushed Pacific Rim so deeply into its fans’ hearts.
What are your thoughts on Pacific Rim: Uprising? Does it hold a candle to the first film? Let us know in the comments. And don’t forget to check out the ComicBook forum to see what other sci-fi fans are saying.
