"Anything I could use to put a fighting robot together," Hugh Jackman asks of his junkyard-searching son in the latest trailer for Real Steel. Add the word "movie" somewhere in that sentence and you get what I imagine Shawn Levy demanded at every pre-production meeting for this thing. "What else can be in this to eat up some time between robot punches, guys?" In the end, he threw in an estranged father-son reconciliation, a traditional underdog sports tale, and a vicarious redemption through mentorship story to fill his film's gaps. But at its core, Real Steel, to its credit, seems to fully deliver what was promised: some robots punching the shit out of each other. That, combined with fact that I'm 11 years old, makes me sort of OK with this:
"Hugh, give me more cynical! More incredulous!"
"You got it, Shawn! Where is the robot with boxing gloves going to be again?"
"I don't know, somewhere over there, probably punching something."