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Of course, the French electronic duo Daft Punk deserve the credit as they supply the booming sonic synths (and their traditionally helmeted appearances in a brief, humorous cameo) to a film that's helplessly indebted to their musical bass-line. Heck, they're the beating heart to this thing, can't you hear it?
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For the rest of the film is a jumble of tired and inept storytelling (father-son melodramatics, murky backtracking, wayward, senseless digital buffoonery) that tries to put a stranglehold on the world's first cinematic dance-rave, yet luckily takes enough of a backseat to keep from wearing off this killer buzz.
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Ultimately, the effect of the film's glassy, neon-piped atmospherics and the throbbing, bassy electronics is quite often transfixing and addictive. Like what Arthur said to Ariadne earlier this year in Christopher Nolan's Inception, there's just nothing quite like it. [B+]
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