Free Guy (2021) begins as a fluffy bit of cinematic nonsense for video-game-addicted adolescents, but around the midpoint decides to get serious and deliver a profound statement, so goes woke and wears its wokeness like an albatross around its neck, weighing it down and distracting from the whimsical nonsense in a painfully obvious manner.

To be certain, there are elements of wokeness from the very beginning. The cast is nearly as diverse as the United Nations General Assembly, to an extent that seems unrealistic, causing cracks in the viewer's willful suspension of disbelief, already stressed by balancing two worlds, one fantastic and the other realistic.

The most obvious concession to wokeness seems to be in casting the female lead, who seems to have been chosen more for what she isn't than for what she is. One can almost imagine the woke casting debate: "She can't be too sexy or too attractive, as we don't want to objectify women. She has a lot of action scenes, but can't be too fit, as she might alienate our female viewers, as two out of three American females are overweight or obese. She's playing opposite Ryan Reynolds, who is forty-four, so has to be age-appropriate." The result is a pleasantly plump auntie, who looks as if she should be selling apple pies in a small-town bakery, rather than battling heavily-armed mercenaries; who dresses frumpy in her character's real life, but chooses a video-game avatar that wears tight leather pants emphasizing an ample booty and a metal breastplate under her shirt to hide any jiggling when she runs. The character is supposed to be an extraordinarily talented programmer, but seems a little slow on the uptake, constantly relying on her male sidekick to bring her up to speed. She doesn't have anything interesting to say, and her only outside interests are ice cream and playground swings. Yet, we're supposed to believe that two handsome guys fall hopelessly in love with her from a distance.

The early scenes offer a cornucopia of state-of-the-art special effects to distract from the nonsensical plot. Impressively, the background is often filled with diverse CGI effects occurring simultaneously. But it quickly grows repetitive, as the filmmakers dig themselves inextricably into a plot hole. They could have explored various themes, such as the meaning of life, or separating fantasies from reality. Instead they throw in a mishmash of half-baked woke talking points. Corporations are evil. Adolescents are really 1960s flower children corrupted by violent video games. Ordinary people have untapped potential, but are dehumanized by corporate employers. Handguns should be outlawed. Sexual orientation is fluid. Men are empowered by the women in their lives.

Perhaps the most promising message is that we should put video games aside and live our lives, but it comes across with all the impact of a potato chip hurled in anger by a petulant toddler.

Despite all the wokeness and ever more spectacular CGI effects, the movie remains mired in a plot hole. To extricate, one character simply abandons the MacGuffin that has driven much of the plot in exchange for something that is later also abandoned. Another character abandons a driving motivation. Everybody in the world abruptly and fundamentally changes preferences for no coherent reason. The villain is smacked down with a deus ex machina plot resolution. The fantasy world seems to devolve from a socialist utopia to a dystopian nightmare with a lot of pretty trees. Along the way, the film patches gaps in the plot by creating unexpected causes and effects in both the real and the fantasy worlds.

Overall, it is a fun movie until it starts to take itself seriously; perhaps best suited to viewing at home while multitasking. Kudos for production values and impressive digital effects. The script fails to take full advantage of a promising premise and the actors seem hamstrung by a script that seems a few re-writes short of completion. Like many recent movies, it kowtows to wokeness at the expense of entertainment value and dramatic impact. Much of the dialogue is probably relevant to adolescent videogame addicts, but meaningless to those who haven't played since Pac-Man was the rage. Like a theme park ride, it's fun for the duration, but doesn't impart any profound insights about life, love, or video gaming.