Cosmic Sin

Surprise! Bruce Willis phones it in yet again—this time, from across the stars.

After a majority of less-than-perfunctory “paycheck” performances over the course of his last two-dozen films, Bruce Willis has decided that his latest, Cosmic Sin, would be no exception.

A sci-fi war “drama” built on a clearly emaciated budget, Cosmic Sin tells the story of an impending, intergalactic alien (slash zombie?) invasion and scorned military commander James Ford’s reluctant quest to rejoin the fray as humanity makes its last stand against extinction. There are quite a few more wrinkles to the plot, but the stilted writing and awkward pacing make it hard to parse core story from stylistic embellishment (and even harder to care). Willis “plays” Ford, assisted by Frank Grillo (Captain America: The Winter Solder, Boss Level) as fellow hardass General Eron Ryle.

The efforts here are largely amateur—acting ranges from cardboard to confused; the visual style and quality evokes early YouTube filmmaker flair; and the writing and direction feel more concerned with hitting expected structural beats than ever really telling a story. But frankly, there’s not a lot of merit or pleasure in painstakingly detailing the faults of a film made with no money, mild experience, and a noticeable level of technical passion. There is effort here from most involved, and that is admirable.

Willis, on the other hand—a seasoned actor whose 120-some-odd performances over the past 40 years have contributed to some of the most iconic films of all time—is entirely fair game for a roasting. The last 20 years of his career may have mostly consisted of duds, but the man clearly has a lot of talent, showcased even as recently as 2012’s double-Willis-whammy of Moonrise Kingdom and Looper. And while I’m sure most of the low-budget, straight-to-home-video projects he’s done have been a means to maintain his lifestyle rather than to prove his talents or express anything artistically, he gets no passes from me for phoning it in and making the experience infinitely worse for any poor sap who might come across the thumbnail of Cosmic Sin‘s Edge of Tomorrow–esque poster on a streaming service and think, “Willis? Grillo? In space? How bad could it be?!”

Especially when Grillo is doing his damnedest to lend some of his signature grizzled, gravelly chops to a relatively stripped-down role in an entirely vacant script. Grillo is first billed on the poster, and he sure as hell deserves it. He wields maybe one-third the screentime Willis gets, but makes more of an impression with his introductory scene, in which he’s basically playing himself, than Willis does with the entirety of his performance.

Frankly, it’s kind of offensive to watch Willis give his scene partners so little to work with. There is a meant-to-be emotional scene in which Ford reminisces with ex-lover Dr. Lea Goss about what could have been, if Ford only knew how to put anything ahead of the fight. Perrey Reeves, as Goss, is trying to give some nostalgic warmth and weight to the scene, clearly making conscious choices in delivery and facial expression to evoke some version of emotional authenticity. Willis’ performance, in response, feels like a tired gaffer who got roped into doing line readings with the main actor at the end of a long day.

Granted, his bald blandness can make for the occasional laugh during tense scenes, but largely, it’s numbing, or at most, irritating.

Here’s my plea to filmmakers coming up in and around Hollywood: it may seem like the biggest boon to your fledgling career to have all-timer Bruce Willis sign on to your movie to give it some marketing power and cinematic weight. But if you have any say in it (sadly, you probably don’t), avoid him. Your project will be better off without this old horse arrogantly lazing his way through your film, and your own talent and efforts, however unseasoned, will likely bring infinitely more to the table than his.