It’s been the year of the supersmarts for Scarlett Johansson: Picture the artificial-intelligence program she played in “Her” deploying her powers to bust legs instead of hearts, and you’re halfway to “Lucy.”
Throwing in elements from “X-Men” and even “2001,” writer-director Luc Besson serves up a tantalizing sci-fi tale of an American naif (Johansson) who, in Taipei, is forced by her boyfriend to deliver a briefcase to Chinese gangsters, who turn her into a drug mule. The drug she’s carrying — sewn into her abdomen — turns out to be a chemical manufactured during pregnancy that makes adults develop like rocket-boosted fetuses. While fending off a rape, she’s beaten so badly, the drug seeps into her system.
Building on the commonly held myth that people use only 3 to 5 percent of their brain capacity, Besson tells us (via a professor/explainer played by Morgan Freeman) that Lucy can achieve undreamed-of powers as the drug unlocks ever more of her potential. With her brainpower at 30 percent, she gains body-regulating powers, mindreading, telekinesis … Should she reach 98 percent capacity, we’re talking omnipotence like the Star Child in “2001.” Besson keeps the pedal down for 90 breathless minutes, sprinkling the road with dry wit but occasionally taking detours into beautiful, quiet side streets.
One of several moments of grace comes when Lucy — named for the earliest discovered human ancestor — is being operated on without anesthesia. To kill time, she calls her mother and tells her she can feel everything, remember everything.
“I remember the taste of your milk in my mouth,” she says, tearing up in contemplation of the beauty of total inner consciousness.
This isn’t the kind of scene that occurs much in your average “Transformers” or “Godzilla” flick: “Lucy” has soul, albeit disguised as ass-kicking. If Besson often seems as if he’s using only 3 to 5 percent of his mental capacity (“3 Days to Kill,” “The Family” and a dozen other terrible movies he wrote and/or directed), “Lucy” contains as well as celebrates ideas: This one could be the centerpiece of a discussion of masculine versus feminine superpowers.
When the bad guys line up with guns, she responds not like Wolverine, but dismisses everything with a cruel wave that freezes the mobsters (and pastes them to the ceiling).
It’s nonviolent yet humiliating, like a cheerleader spurning a nerd. Made with a male star, “Lucy” would have lost much of its intriguing subtext. A Paris cop (Amr Waked), who’s furious when Lucy takes the steering wheel for a chase later, admits he’s not sure he can be of any help. It’s the sci-fi take on all those sociology books about ascendant women rendering men irrelevant. In a captivating climax, the movie turns attractively freaky, though somewhat marred by cheesy special effects, and there’s a huge debt to the immense leaps of “2001.” An abrupt ending feels frustrating and leaves questions floating in space. Then again, I’m using only 3 to 5 percent of my capacity, so what do I know?