GenXer

As a fan of ambitious sci-fi, I was intrigued by The Congress and its blend of Hollywood satire and dystopian philosophy. The film starts strong with a fascinating premise: actress Robin Wright (playing herself) is offered a deal to digitize her likeness, letting the studio use her image forever while she steps away from acting. This first act is gripping, grounded, and eerily relevant, poking at the entertainment industry's obsession with youth and control. It's a sharp look at what it means to "sell" your identity in an age of CGI and deepfakes.

But about a third of the way in, the movie takes a wild left turn into a surreal, animated dystopia inspired by Stanislaw Lem's The Futurological Congress. Suddenly, we're in a world where people escape reality through drugs that plunge them into a shared hallucination. The visuals are stunning-think psychedelic cartoons meets philosophical fever dream-but it feels like a completely different film. The shift is so jarring that I struggled to stay invested.

The movie tries to tie these two halves together with the idea of surrendering identity, whether to a studio or a drug-induced fantasy. It's a clever concept on paper, but the execution feels forced, like two separate stories mashed together. Robin's emotional arc, especially her search for her son, is meant to bridge the gap, but it gets lost in the chaotic second half. I admire the ambition, and the themes of reality, escapism, and commodification are thought-provoking, but the tonal whiplash left me disoriented.

Visually, the animated sequences are a highlight, and Wright's performance carries the film through its rough patches. Still, I can't help but wonder what could've been if the story had stuck with one idea or found a smoother way to blend the two. The Congress is bold and brainy, but it's more admirable than cohesive. Worth a watch for sci-fi fans who don't mind a messy ride.