At the time of its release, Ernest Cline's "Ready Player One" was hailed as the holy grail of nerd culture. How could it not be in a literal sense? It was about a virtual reality where 80's pop culture ran rampant and was centered to everything in the plot. They even got Wil Wheaton to read the audiobook, that's how rooted in a culture it was. But the question must be: is it more than generic pandering to a demographic that would love to be rewarded for knowing the obscure characters to Ultraman? Well, this is exactly that story in a way that's a bit disappointing. What starts as a story that has the potential to explore the infinite sadness of pop culture ends up embracing it in a way that's just as pandering as an 80's movie, but without half as much investment.
The story centers around Wade Watts, whose journey into The Oasis has been his distraction from a crumbling world around him, best known as The Stacks. It's a crumbling dystopia and the only place to go is inside the digital wires, where you can hang out with anyone while being anyone. It's a decent concept, but the question soon becomes: what can you do for a story when you can do anything? The answer is that the lack of limitations maybe sets the bar too high, making chances of a compelling story a lot more difficult. It's a world defined by consumption and where knowledge of old video games is currency. It's a Reagan era dream, which makes it weird then that the story ignores the three decades between its subject and the books' actual release date. Why is it that specific decade that defines this world?
It's in part because the creator loved 80's culture to an unhealthy degree. It's here where the book shows the vaguest hint at promise. The opening chapter centers around his death, creating a somber mood for a man who awkwardly reads his will and promises to reward The Oasis to whoever solves his mystery. Cline creates a sense that this man has lived a sad life full of having no friends, living in a world where relevancy wasn't found in the things created to make him happy. This is the inkling of what the story could've been. It could've been a biting commentary on how troubling obsession remains. It's one that's alluded to throughout the story, but alas it serves little to the bigger narrative of Wade trying to complete that mission with his friends. He's the hero who everyone hails as a hero. He is also the man on the right side of history, not caring if his friends are black, female, or ugly. Someone his openness to others makes himself feel more deified. He is, essentially, a hero whose ego is stroked constantly by Cline, doing his best not to shatter Wade's fragile ego.
To its credit, Cline does sound like he knows too much about the 1980's. Whole passages are dedicated to spouting that obsession as a way of impressing friends and even getting ahead in life. It's all effective in how authentic it ends up feeling, even if Wade continually feels more self-involved, only ever feeling the importance of his friends if it benefits his journey. He lives in an 80's movie where the white man is still the hero who rescues the entire world, especially if he's between the ages of 12 and 25. Wade fits that bill nicely, and the lack of life experience or self-awareness more than suggests that there's sadness to his inability to see a world beyond wires. It comes across as depressing because Wade doesn't have an authentic personality. He is merely existing, and that's sad. It would be, if Cline thought to make a more psychologically rich story.
Instead it's about the digital world and how fascinating it is. It is the equivalent of you reading this review and then clicking over to a random pop up. You have the ability to navigate your world online. It's unfulfilling because The Oasis isn't real. It's as much a sham as the Keyser Soze twist in The Usual Suspects. We rarely get a sense of the world that Wade doesn't live in, instead getting one reminiscent of the Spielberg "abandoned father" trope. As much as the story tries to end by suggesting the joys of human contact, it doesn't do much to earn it within the pages, having basic friendships that service plot and ego stroking. Also, if people can die without consequence, what is the point of dramatic moments in a third act built around an epic battle? It's fan service that works as a video game, but don't expect it to fulfill a story narrative.
"Ready Player One" was recently turned into a movie by Spielberg, and he easily added depth to the story by adding heartache. There's a sense that he knows the struggles of addiction, even as innocent as The Oasis, and wants to create a conversation about what technology does to us socially. Cline wrote the screenplay, so there's a sense that he knew where to improve upon. One could only have wished that he had done this in the first place, for it may have made the story more than pure fluff where a boy's fantasy is played out in favor of overlooking depth and struggle. Sure, he fights an evil corporation - but is it ever impactful to his emotional change? Not exactly. It's a story that feels implicitly greedy, even at its most saintly. It can't help but feel shallow. In that way, it's the perfect ode to Reagan era pop culture, and the day-glo sheen that comes with it.
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