Aspiring author Eddie Morra is suffering from chronic writer's block, but his life changes instantly when an old friend introduces him to NZT, a revolutionary new pharmaceutical that allows him to tap his full potential. With every synapse crackling, Eddie can recall everything he has ever read, seen or heard, learn any language in a day, comprehend complex equations and beguile anyone he meets - as long as he keeps taking the untested drug. Soon Eddie takes Wall Street by storm, parlaying a small stake into millions. His accomplishments catch the eye of mega-mogul Carl Van Loon, who invites him to help broker the largest merger in corporate history. But they also bring Eddie to the attention of people willing to do anything to get their hands on his stash of NZT. With his life in jeopardy and the drug's brutal side effects taking their toll, Eddie dodges mysterious stalkers, a vicious gangster and an intense police investigation as he attempts to hang on to his dwindling supply long enough to outwit his enemies.
Genres: Drama, Thriller and Adaptation Running Time: 1 hr. 45 min. Release Date: March 18th, 2011 (wide) MPAA Rating: PG-13 for thematic material involving a drug, violence including disturbing images, sexuality and language. Distributor: Relativity Media
Cast And Credits
Starring:
Bradley Cooper, Robert De Niro, Abbie Cornish, Anna Friel
Directed by:
Neil Burger
Produced by:
Tucker Tooley, Bradley Cooper
Is there a cure for writer’s block? (And no, “get a real job†doesn’t count.) A recent article in The New Yorker profiles a therapist who treats struggling screenwriters for hundreds of dollars an hour. For centuries, poorer scribes (which is to say most of us) have preferred to rely on rituals and folk remedies. Sharpen 10 pencils. Eat a sandwich. Pretend that the first chapter of your long-overdue opus is a casual letter to your grandmother. Weep quietly. Have another drink.
Such an existence eludes Eddie Morra (Bradley Cooper), whom we join â€" once he has flashed back from what looks like the brink of suicide through a breathless title sequence â€" in a bohemian mire of failure. Unshaven and unfocused, living in a grungy Chinatown walkup and frequenting the last bar in Manhattan that does not brew its own bitters and charge $20 for an artisanal cocktail, Eddie is stuck on Page 1 of a long-overdue novel.
Adding romantic insult to professional injury, his girlfriend, Lindy (Abbie Cornish), briskly dumps him. As she hands him back her keys, Lindy cues up some important exposition by reminding Eddie that he was married once, to Melissa (Anna Friel), whose brother, Vernon (Johnny Whitworth), promptly runs into Eddie on the street, turns him on to a cool new drug and takes a fatal bullet to the brain.
Between the last two items in that series, Eddie swallows Vernon’s pill, a not-quite-legal substance called NZT, which allows him to tap into previously neglected areas of his brain. Supposedly, human beings â€" even writers! â€" use only a fraction of that mighty organ at a time, and the idea that we could, via a quick biochemical fix, have access to all of its powers raises many intriguing possibilities, a few of which “Limitless†sets out to explore.
Mr. Burger, whose previous films include “The Illusionist,†an elegant and clever sleight-of-hand caper, unwinds Eddie’s story with a feverish, hyperactive clarity that mirrors the protagonist’s inner state. When NZT enters his bloodstream, the colors on the screen intensify, the focus tightens, and the image seems to warp, as if buckling under the sheer power of Eddie’s cognition.
He assimilates information by means of old-fashioned film editing â€" a fast shuffle of close-ups, usually resolving to a shot of Mr. Cooper’s Windex-blue eyes â€" and also through fancier tricks. As Eddie’s writer’s block breaks, letters float down from the ceiling of his apartment, recalling the cascading numbers of “A Beautiful Mind.â€
But Eddie’s mind is not an altogether pretty place. Mr. Cooper has a special gift for impersonating a certain type of ordinary guy â€" handsome, smart and friendly enough, but also kind of a jerk. More than “The Hangover†or, goodness knows, “All About Steve,†“Limitless†is a showcase for his gift of exemplary just-above-averageness. He is pitiable as a loser, despicable as a winner and curiously likable through all the intervening stages.
Granted the Promethean bounty of unlimited intelligence, what does Eddie do? Just what any other shallow, striving 21st-century American man would be likely to do: make more money, have more sex and write a book, though not quite in that order. The book turns out to be something of a red herring â€" or rather, one of many plot points that the movie picks up, drops behind the radiator, trips over and sends flying across the room as it runs its hectic course.
The expansion of Eddie’s mental capacity does not lead to any corresponding growth in wisdom or imagination. Quite the contrary: the more clearly and quickly he thinks, the shallower he becomes. To be sure, he learns to play the piano and picks up fluency in a smattering of foreign languages and high-flown cultural idioms, but these skills are mostly useful in getting women to sleep with him. And the cultural knowledge that is most handy comes from the kung fu movies and boxing matches he suddenly remembers from childhood when he is attacked by a bunch of thugs on a subway platform one night.
In keeping with Eddie’s predicament â€" and the drug has its downsides, of course â€" “Limitless†has a little too much on its mind. To maintain a sense of velocity and complication, it throws Eddie into trouble with a Russian loan shark (Andrew Howard), a couple of murders and a Wall Street tycoon with the Seussian name Van Loon. As Van Loon, Robert De Niro twinkles with menace but does not really have much to do, and he robs screen time from Ms. Cornish, who vanishes from the movie for unconscionably long stretches.
That is not because of Lindy’s good sense â€" she goes back to Eddie as soon as he cuts off his ratty ponytail and buys some new clothes â€" but because the filmmakers seem to have misplaced their supply of coherence pills. Too many matters, medical and otherwise, go unexplained, and the intimations of grand conspiracy that pursue Eddie don’t quite pay off the way you want them to.
But what “Limitless†lacks in structural neatness it makes up for in energy and antic, bristling wit. It’s an unexpectedly funny movie, and for a while this seems mainly like a function of Mr. Cooper’s charm.
Eddie’s fate, however, turns out to be a barbed and nasty joke, and at the last moment the film reveals itself to have been a seductively cynical, sharp-eyed comic fable for an age of greed and speed. It suggests that evolution has given us extraordinary brains, and that if someone could only take hold of this gift, there is no telling what he might do: engineer a corporate merger, run for political office, buy a huge apartment, order food at a restaurant in a foreign language.
Finish a piece of writing on deadline. Nothing would ever be the same. “Limitless†is rated PG-13 (Parents strongly cautioned). Violence, sexuality and the consumption of prodigious quantities of an imaginary drug.
Is there a cure for writer’s block? (And no, “get a real job†doesn’t count.) A recent article in The New Yorker profiles a therapist who treats struggling screenwriters for hundreds of dollars an hour. For centuries, poorer scribes (which is to say most of us) have preferred to rely on rituals and folk remedies. Sharpen 10 pencils. Eat a sandwich. Pretend that the first chapter of your long-overdue opus is a casual letter to your grandmother. Weep quietly. Have another drink.
Adding romantic insult to professional injury, his girlfriend, Lindy (Abbie Cornish), briskly dumps him. As she hands him back her keys, Lindy cues up some important exposition by reminding Eddie that he was married once, to Melissa (Anna Friel), whose brother, Vernon (Johnny Whitworth), promptly runs into Eddie on the street, turns him on to a cool new drug and takes a fatal bullet to the brain. 
The expansion of Eddie’s mental capacity does not lead to any corresponding growth in wisdom or imagination. Quite the contrary: the more clearly and quickly he thinks, the shallower he becomes. To be sure, he learns to play the piano and picks up fluency in a smattering of foreign languages and high-flown cultural idioms, but these skills are mostly useful in getting women to sleep with him. And the cultural knowledge that is most handy comes from the kung fu movies and boxing matches he suddenly remembers from childhood when he is attacked by a bunch of thugs on a subway platform one night. 
Eddie’s fate, however, turns out to be a barbed and nasty joke, and at the last moment the film reveals itself to have been a seductively cynical, sharp-eyed comic fable for an age of greed and speed. It suggests that evolution has given us extraordinary brains, and that if someone could only take hold of this gift, there is no telling what he might do: engineer a corporate merger, run for political office, buy a huge apartment, order food at a restaurant in a foreign language. 
