Editor’s Note: This article does contain spoilers from the plot of Eagle Eye. If you have not seen the film, you may not want to read any further.

I don’t like to mince words. The last time I did, I ended up stubbing a toe. It’s a long story that I don’t want to subject you to, but speaking of long stories people shouldn’t subjected to, Eagle Eye came out in theaters on Friday. Let’s just say, the Logic Nazi on this project really screwed the pooch.

It seems obvious to chalk up my strong dislike of this movie to my knowledge of how government works, but it’s even easier to claim my ability to read at a 5th grade level is what kept me from enjoying the inane plot structure and borrowed-from-other-films concepts. More so than most movies recently, Eagle Eye has left me with some Unanswered Questions.

1. Why were the band children traveling by train?

It’s crucial to the plot. Rachel needs the threat of her son’s train getting derailed to goad her into performing highly illegal tasks for a disembodied voice. From boarding the train from Chicago to the time when Jerry and Rachel are embroiled in the climax in DC is around two full days. Rachel’s precious little trumpet player hops on the train in the morning and the next night, he’s performing at the State of the Union Address. Of course, it doesn’t take two days to get Chicago to DC by train. I’ll give you 15 hours at a minimum, 30 hours at a ludicrous maximum. Either that, or they got the cheapest tickets ever. And those tickets were probably still the same price as air fare.

Why were they on the longest train ride possible? Doesn’t that school district have any money? This couldn’t have just been a device that pushed the boundaries of reality in order to serve the plot right? Did the train stop in Nashville to pick up some Barbecue? Didn’t the band director seem a little like a child-toucher? Not a lot, but, like, just a little? Would you trust your child to go on a magical two-day train ride with him?

2. Why didn’t Rachel just go to the cops?

I know what you’re thinking. It was too dangerous! The scary disembodied voice on the other end of the phone stopped her from calling 911! If it can stop a phone call, what else could it do?! Guess what. Cops don’t just exist on the other end of telephone lines. They’re living, breathing humans that exist in buildings, and they’re accessible pretty much all the time. Granted, seeing video of your son displayed on televisions inside a McDonald’s is pretty creepy, but stealing a car, picking up a stranger and continuing on with a whole host of byzantine tasks just doesn’t sound right. Hell, she could have told the security guards they hijacked instead of, you know, hijacking them. Way too easy? Thought so.

If she thought her son was in danger, why not just find a cop? Why go on a crazed game of Simon-Says with an unnamed voice who hasn’t shown any proof of being capable of killing your son? Why acquiesce so quickly? Don’t you have to be a complete idiot not to try just a little harder to find an authority figure?

3. Do people actually think a computer can kill you remotely?

This has to be asked since it goes along with the last question. The entire film hinges on the fear that the massive Big-Brother computer system can kill us no matter where we are. This is absolutely ridiculous. I share Chuck Klosterman’s lack of fear of my toaster, but I understand the threat of ubiquitous technology. Still, the scene where the music shop owner gets killed is probably the least believable thing I’ve seen all year, especially considering that had he run about twenty feet to the right or left, he’d be completely untouchable. Jerry and Rachel had to be the dumbest people on the planet to believe a computer could kill them remotely.

How did a computer cut hardware lines to kill that guy? Electrical lines don’t just snap off by issuing a line of code do they? DId no one think to utilize outmoded technology to bypass the computer mainframe’s reach? Wait, can my toaster kill me? Will it committing murder void the warranty?

4. Why would a computer choose the most convoluted way possible to kill people?

Let’s face it. This film is like a cinematic game of Mouse Trap and, much like me with a game of Mouse Trap, it could never quite get that guy to dive from the see-saw and land in the dish. Um, metaphorically. In essence, the filmmakers are asking us to believe that a computer that’s based on a stringent – albeit complex – string of logic would create a multi-tiered, 30-component, human-error-prone, two-day process of killing a few people. This is absurd to the point of forehead slapping.

It can kill a guy on command by snapping some electrical lines but it can’t just take ten other people? Couldn’t have sent some highly trained Toaster Assassins? Aren’t high-level executives near powerlines or in cars that can be hit by other cars from time to time? Was the computer designed by Rube Goldberg? Isn’t that guy dead? Did Zombie Rube Goldberg doom the nation?

5. Were we in the future or something?

It’s never really stated. Maybe it’s on someone’s ID card or driver’s license for a split second, but it seemed like present day to me. Oddly enough, people are now debating whether the technology that exists in the film could be possible in the future. Guess what. It already is. The funniest part about this is that all the technology in the film that’s possible is presented so poorly that it seems more science fiction than current fact. Remote monitoring from cell phones? Sure. Complete grid control? Mostly possible. But the elements that aren’t possible blending with the stuff that is was so confusing that I thought a nice sign of what the date was could cure a lot of the ills.

Why wasn’t it clear what time it was? And if it was in the future, why did it look so much like 2005? Why were all the television news reports so generic?

What Have We Learned

I have a ton of other random questions that don’t really affect the plot. What was that piece of paper Jerry put in his brother’s casket? A sketch? The number of a hot angel he knows? Was it supposed to have emotional significance? What would the computer done if Jerry and his brother weren’t twins? Why don’t we learn it’s the eve of the State of the Union until five minutes before it’s delivered? Why did Rachel and Jerry keep having the same damned conversation about his brother over and over again? Why the hell did they end up together romantically at the end? If the Computer was destroyed, why did we keep seeing screenshots of the musical notes? Why did Jerry’s brother leave his post without telling a superior of the MAJOR THREAT posed by the out-of-control computer system? He leaves a cryptic morse code message and then hops in his car to drive on home?

All this to say, mostly everything is done so randomly and haphazardly in this film that’s it became ridiculous. Small details that didn’t matter were left in unexplained while large details were revealed exactly when they mattered instead of naturally. Unfortunately, until the government taps into our cell phones and explains exactly what was going on, these questions and more are going to have to go unanswered.

What did you make of the plot of Eagle Eye?

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1. What’s up with that Purple Cross-Dressing, possibly Trans-gendered Ziro the Hutt?

We’ll go ahead and get the most obvious out of the way first, especially since it hit us from left field right near the end of the movie. We get it. Diversity is great, and Lucas and the crew have done diversity effortlessly in the past. Multitudes of alien races, strong and realistic female leads – and what’s best, they never draw undue attention to it. They make diversity in film seem so easy. But when they screw it up, they manage to do so on a scale so unimaginable that it delivers a Jar Jar Binks straight from the racialist brier patch, and, now, Ziro the Hutt – just getting off stage from his second show as an Ethel Merman impersonator at the Sunday Drag Queen Show.

Why did Jabba’s uncle have to sound like Truman Capote? Why did Truman Capote sound like Truman Capote? What’s with the sequined, peacock feather over one eye? Did the other Hutts tease you growing up? Did your affectation even serve the plot at all? Do you think your cameo in The Bird Cage helped you land the role? Is The Clone Wars headed to Broadway? Did you mean to derail the entire film?

2. Did we really need the Disney Channel subplot between Anakin and Ahsoka?

We’ve argued back and forth as to whether this was a subplot or the main plot, a sign that doesn’t bode well for the coherency of the film in general, but overall, we’re wondering why Anakin and Ahsoka enjoyed a bonding character arc that belonged on an episode of The Suite Life with Zack and Cody. It was cute that they politely bickered back and forth like brother and sister, but it was all a little too lovey-dovey, and no one got their hand cut off. It was also confusing to see Obi-Wan doing his best Ward Cleaver impression – shaking his head knowingly whenever the two started arguing. “Oh, those rascals,” he seemed to say. These are Jedi Knights we’re talking about. Not the cast of Lizzie McGuire.

If this was supposed to be a buddy comedy, which one was supposed to be “too old for this shit?” Did you mean for Anakin to seem a lot like Charles, the titular character from seminal sitcom “Charles in Charge?” Will Ahsoka have her own line of Bratz Dolls? Was Ziro the Hutt supposed to be more feminine than Ahsoka?

3. Why the hell was Ahsoka calling Anakin Skywalker, the man who would become Lord Darth Vader, “Sky Guy?”

There’s nothing more endearing than a nickname. It makes sense. You wanted a nickname for that bratty little upstart Ahsoka to call Anakin. One that subverts his authority, infantilizes him but isn’t too, too offensive. We couldn’t have her calling him “Captain Bottomtickler” or anything. Still, this is the best name they came up with? Not only did it get as annoying as a hamster gnawing at my ear drum, it evoked images of a certain pom-pom shaped spokes-character for McDonald’s frenchfries.

How could you dare to mock Lord Vader? Did anyone consider “Captain Bottomtickler?” Is this the most subtle product placement in film history? Did McDonald’s put you up to this? Is George Lucas also Mayor McCheese?

There might be other burning questions out there, but these were the ones that left our brains spinning. Until Lucas and company call a press conference to explain himself, we’re afraid our questions are going to have to go unanswered.

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