I don’t know what to say about “Splice.” On the one hand, it does exactly what a thoughtful sci-fi story should: uses genre trappings to raise socio-culturally relevant, real-world questions without being so presumptuous as to provide pat, definitive answers. The story of a self-assured couple who literally have the equipment to create life, but lack the foresight and self-knowledge to responsibly care for it is essentially presented as the larger, catch-all story of modern parenting. The movie then painstakingly breaks down a variety of parental concerns – from education to discipline to gender imprinting to sexuality – all within a fast-paced and suitably creepy 103 minute runtime.

On the other hand, and I don’t really know how else to put this… the movie is kinda goofy. And I should love that, right? There are melodramatic lab sequences, crazy camera angles, lurid sex scenes, and a glut of increasingly nutty creature effects. Add in the thoughtful deconstructions of parenthood and the insight into genetic evolution and I should be a happy camper, right? A fun genre flick that’s comfortable enough in its own thematic depth to throw in some wild gore and zany action sequences. Why am I not obsessed with this movie?

(Before I get any more involved in my own personal struggle, I want to say now that if you haven’t seen “Splice,” go. Go watch it. I totally recommend it. Believe me I wouldn’t drag you through a post full of neurotic ambivalence just to tell you not to see a movie.)

Get the rest… AFTER THE JUMP

So, why am I not obsessed with this movie? I think, for some reason, I’m annoyed that it’s as goofy and fun as it is. A casual moviegoer walking into “Splice” (especially after the ridiculously unrepresentative ad campaign that pitched it as, at worst, an anemic monster-on-the-loose actioner and at best, a bit of hunt-and-hump “Species” redux) probably isn’t going to think about the central conceits of the film. The brilliant conundrums the movie presents – Has modern American culture’s influence over, and obsession with, the mechanisms of parenthood wholly overwhelmed our animal parenting instincts?; What seperates a culturally productive organism from a naturally effective one, and where do the two overlap and/or diverge?; As a society so morally obsessed with enforcing bio-ethics in laboratory settings, shouldn’t we be equally concerned with, and self-aware of, our own intentions and mental states when we create life in a domestic setting; etc. – are likely to be overshadowed by the soapy dialogue, titillating sexual intrigue and off-the-wall third act.

I know this because when I watched the film on opening day, the people around me were either giggling and shaking their heads, as if the film represented the same ironic entertainment as any bottom-shelf straight-to-DVD slasher deal, or sighing with boredom, clearly waiting for the Blackhawks to swoop in bearing jarheads and hollow points. (During the film’s final scene, when a character naively intoned, “What’s the worst that could happen?” the burly man behind me gruffly declared, “They could make a sequel.”) Meanwhile, all the supposed sci-fi fans populating website message boards are bemoaning how silly and stupid the film is because they hate fun and, apparently, were expecting “The Squid and the Whale” by way of Cronenberg and Henenlotter.

I don’t know what to say about “Splice.” I can make fervent indictments against the marketing for a minor dishonesty committed in the name of maximizing the number of people who choose to see a fun movie that I like, and that I want people to see. I can rail against the haters whose distaste of the film stems more from their own unmet expectations and subsequent lack of self-awareness regarding those expectations than from anything actually on the screen. But we’re here to talk about a movie.

And, I gotta say, I have very little beef with “Splice.” It’s at once funny, unsettling, violent and sad. It may be that I’m not used to my cynical, pinched-faced speculative fiction movies having this much fun, or, for that matter, to my gore-smeared T&A monster flicks containing this much lasting insight. Or maybe I was one of those aforementioned dour genre enthusiasts expecting “The Fly” by way of Noah Baumbach.

I don’t want to make some “Time” magazine-caliber bon mot about “Splice” recombining the DNA of sci-fi movies past to make a fascinating hybrid, so just accept this: The mother/step-father/child relationship hits all the right notes (maybe sometimes a bit to boisterously, but that’s part of the fun), the creature design is superlative (whereas Cameron’s Na’avi fail miserably in the alien-but-effable category, Berger and Nicotero’s Dren succeeds almost too well) and, despite its predictability, the ending, you know, works.

In other words – best darkly funny independent sci-fi film backed by pedigreed writer/director and given major summer release since “District 9.”

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