If you’ve seen the music video for Aerosmith’s “Hole in My Soul,” then you know exactly how Identity Crisis thinks that cloning works. The video is only six minutes long; what’s this movie’s excuse?
Other than length, a major difference is that instead of a high school boy genius, we have a college girl genius; and instead of cloning potential mates, she clones herself in order to live vicariously through her double.
Madison Montgomery (Scout Tayui-Lepore) is a shy, asocial student at Grand Canyon University (a real private for-profit Christian university in Phoenix, Arizona), though what she’s majoring in I have no idea; it is said that she enjoys coding, but is only ever seen attending a biology class (taught by Selena Gomez’s fake mom, of all people).
Madison works at the library (there appears to be only one on campus. Can this really be so? Even my alma mater, the University of Costa Rica, has more), in the basement of which she discovers an old laboratory that has been abandoned since at least the 90s (extrapolating from Madison’s own research); somehow, all of the equipment remains in near perfect working order.
In the lab, Madison finds a (for lack of a better term) cloning machine, which she first uses to create a “Shiny,” “Rotten Free,” “Flawless” apple. The thought that she may have just solved world hunger never crossing her mind, Madison moves on to human trials; using a sample of her saliva and inputting the words “Confident,” “Assertive,” and “Brave,” Madison brings into existence an outgoing and outspoken but otherwise identical twin (played by Scout’s real-life identical twin Sophia).
And by ‘identical,’ I mean that Clone (really, that’s what they call her) not only comes out fully grown like Athena emerging from Zeus’ forehead, but she’s wearing the exact same clothes as Madison. I’d ask how that happened (even Superman IV gave a little more thought to the problem of Nuclear Man’s suit) but then, how does anything that happens in this film happen?
Like, why does Clone have a head-up display that allows her to identify Madison’s acquaintances? For that matter, why does Madison herself seem to have a HUD? Is she secretly part cyborg? Why does the movie introduce this gimmick just to mostly forget all about it? We already know that Henry (Elester Latham) is a librarian, that Harper (Laura Leigh Turner) is Madison’s roommate, and that Trevor (Finn Roberts) is Madison’s crush. Madison, of course, knows all of this too; it wouldn’t be too much to ask of the audience to simply assume that Clone has Madison’s memories (which, wouldn’t you know, is precisely the case). It certainly wouldn’t be harder to believe than Madison having inexplicably cloned her outfit as well.
Or, why does Clone suddenly start back-to-the-futuring? Which she does until she finally vanishes completely, leaving nothing but her clothes behind? Since the mystery of Clone’s disappearance makes no more sense than that of her creation (which doesn’t make any fucking sense at all), I have no choice but to conclude that Clone just got raptured.
Seriously though, there is a Christian undercurrent running through the film, which explains the script’s childlike understanding (or lack thereof) of science; on the other hand, the screenplay (heavy-handed apple symbolism notwithstanding) doesn’t demonize cloning, and Madison is not witch-hunted for playing God; that said, the product of cloning itself apparently does constitute an abomination in the eyes of the Lord.
How else to account for Clone’s ultimate fate of being consigned to nothingness? Even Madison, who allegedly develops an bond with Clone that goes beyond self-love, can’t bring herself to give her an actual name — thus keeping her, emotionally speaking, always at arm’s length.
As it turns out, the movie isn’t what you’d call ‘booksmart;’ on the plus side, one of the books that the film doesn’t boast about is the Bible (aside from a couple of brief paraphrases), resulting in the rare faith-based flick that doesn’t hit you over the head, chapter and verse included, with the so-called Word of God.
Thus, Professor Harris (Maria Canals-Barrera) is (nominally) a scientist who also happens to be a Christian. And Madison has a speech towards the end in which she refers to herself, among other things, as a “child of God,” but this doesn’t preclude her from vying for and earning a job as a research assistant. And one of the last shots is a juxtaposition of the Natural Sciences building and a mural (or maybe it’s stained glass; I’m not entirely sure) of a cross. And so on and so forth.
Ostensibly, the point is that science and religion are not mutually exclusive — or, at least, that they may be reconciled within a single worldview. The filmmakers clearly took their cues from renowned physician-geneticist Francis Sellers Collins; he’s not mentioned by name, but both Madison and Trevor are fond of The Language of God, and Professor Harris is very big on the Human Genome Project (while at the same time completely mistaken about it).
That would have been all well and good. Sadly, writers Alexandra Boylan and Andrea Polnaszek and director Shari Rigby couldn’t leave well enough alone. Specifically, they have Professor Harris claim that “The genome is evidence of an intelligent design,” conveniently ignoring that, in The Language of God, Dr. Collins rejects intelligent design (as well as Young Earth creationism); conversely, the good doctor is a proponent of theistic evolution/evolutionary creation — so that, worst case scenario, he’s always half-right.
Identity Crisis was shot on location at GCU, presumably with the institution’s full cooperation, and perhaps even at its behest. Is pseudoscientific claptrap such as intelligent design what its students are learning? (as opposed to, say, how cloning truly works). And is Identity Crisis a glorified recruitment and/or crypto-propaganda film?
There is a difference between a movie that is bad because it lacks quality, and one that is bad because it lacks basic goodness and decency. Even a seemingly inoffensive, low-profile comedy like this one falls into the latter category when it makes loaded statements along the lines of, “[The] findings [of the Human Genome Project] point us to the creator of the universe,” without offering the slightest shred of evidence to back it up. That’s malicious, tendentious, and irresponsible.
All things considered, the filmmakers purport to present a symbiotic relationship between science and religion, not unlike Dr. Collins sees it; however, what they actually did — twisting sound, hard-worked science out of context to fit their beliefs — is downright parasitic. I can’t help wondering, what good is faith if you lack the courage of your convictions?