The science-fiction thriller Source Code starts in a state of glorious
disorientation. Jake Gyllenhaal wakes up on a train. His comely seatmate
Christina is chattering away, thanking him for some
advice he’s supposedly given her on a previous commute into Chicago. She’s a
complete stranger, and she’s calling him Sean, but he’s Captain Colter
Stevens, a U.S. helicopter pilot who flies missions in Afghanistan, thank
you very much. Eight minutes later the train blows up. Talk about a lousy
morning.
Whereupon Colter’s thoroughly traumatized consciousness returns to the
familiar territory of a cockpit, where another woman he’s
never seen before appears on a monitor to brusquely tell him he’s on a
mission and she is about hit the reset button and send his brain back to the
train. Her name is Goodwin and she’s cool-eyed, distant and as crisp as her
uniform. He’s got an eight-minute window to locate the terrorist who blew up
the train and the military will keep sending him back until he delivers the
intelligence they need.
Understandably, Colter, who never volunteered for this crazy Source Code
Project, has some qualms. But neither Goodwin nor the creator of this
technology, Dr. Rutledge — his limp identifying him as a
mad scientist, a cheap crutch to establish not character but
stereotype — have any tolerance for Colter’s questions or confusion. They
treat him like a dementia patient they’ve lost patience with, and though his
growing desire to save Christina et al is perfectly natural, they are
dismissive of his nave humanity. The point of this exercise is to find the
bomber in time to save his next target from a dirty bomb.
The explosion is non negotiable; the passengers, including the girl and the
body he’s visiting, are doomed. “Source code is not time travel, but rather,
time reassignment,” Dr. Rutledge growls.
Colter is at the mercy of technology and the government, and the movie is
very eager to make sure we know this is a fearful condition. Colter’s actual
detective work isn’t riveting but watching
Colter’s evolving reactions to his commuting companions is great fun, like
Groundhog Day with bombs. In contrast to the chill of the cockpit, the
train is warm and lively, filled with entertaining characters, including a
standup comic , a cocky college kid and a
guy who is far too wired in for his own good . Monaghan is
charming, and we sense the growing connection between her and Sean/Colter.
Gyllenhaal, whose youthful cuteness is now the slick handsomeness of a grown
up movie star, clearly savors the wit in Ben Ripley’s screenplay. On his
fifth or so unpleasant encounter with the wired-in guy Colter cuts him off
with a quick quip: “Stay out of this tough guy, it doesn’t end well for
you.” The role is all tension, but he’s relaxed within it, and his pleasure
is contagious.
