BICENTENNIAL MAN. Science fiction like they don’t make anymore today

In December, a quarter of a century will pass since the premiere of Bicentennial Man — an expensive film that suffered a commercial failure and received negative reviews. Was the criticism justified?

The film’s story takes place between the years 2005 and 2205. A humanoid robot from the NDR series is introduced into the household of the Martin family—Richard, Rachel, and their daughters Amanda and Grace. Initially, the robot, named Andrew, assists with household chores but quickly reveals artistic talents (wood carving and clockmaking) and human-like emotions (forming a particular bond with young Amanda). The robot’s manufacturer, NorthAm Robotics, considers Andrew’s creativity an anomaly beyond standard programming and offers to replace him with another model. However, Richard declines and encourages the robot to continue its artistic pursuits. One day, Andrew offers his entire fortune, earned through his craft, in exchange for freedom. Richard refuses the money but grants Andrew’s request, provided he leaves the Martin household. Decades later, Andrew convinces Rupert Burns, the designer of the NDR model, to modify him to resemble a human. Andrew wishes to be recognized as human, believing this is the only way he can marry Portia, Amanda’s granddaughter.

The novella The Bicentennial Man was part of the Robot series created in the 1940s by Isaac Asimov and first appeared in the anthology Stellar #2 in 1976. The American writer received Hugo and Nebula awards for it, though the latter was awarded after Ursula K. Le Guin declined the Nebula in protest against the Science Fiction Writers of America’s decision to strip Stanisław Lem of honorary membership—he was a friend of hers. In 1992, Asimov collaborated with Robert Silverberg to expand the novella into the novel The Positronic Man, which became the basis for Chris Columbus’s film, with a screenplay by Nicholas Kazan. Production of Bicentennial Man began in the late 1990s under Walt Disney Studios. However, during pre-production, Disney withdrew from the project due to its staggering $100 million cost. The film was completed by Touchstone (a Disney subsidiary) and Columbia Pictures.

The shortlist for the role of Andrew included Tom Hanks, Bill Murray, Tim Allen, Martin Short, Jeff Bridges, Mel Gibson, Harrison Ford, Michael Keaton, Billy Crystal, Richard Dreyfuss, Anthony Hopkins, and William Shatner. Ultimately, Robin Williams, who had previously worked with Columbus on Mrs. Doubtfire (1993) and Nine Months (1995), was cast. Williams appears in his human form only in the 75th minute of the two-hour film, spending the first three-quarters in a robot suit modeled on his own features. (“It had to be me; otherwise, viewers would notice the robot didn’t behave or move like me. It was a bit like puppeteering,” Williams said.) He improvised extensively on set, including a scene where he entertains the Martin family. However, neither audiences nor the studio were amused. When The Man of the Future premiered in American theaters on December 17, 1999, it received poor reviews and became a financial flop. Williams blamed Disney for skimping on promotion and later admitted he regretted participating in the film.

The film was misleadingly marketed as another of Columbus’s zany comedies starring Williams (as seen in the trailer). In reality, it is a melancholic science fiction drama tackling themes of humanity, personal freedom, slavery, tolerance, love, free will, responsibility, mortality, and immortality—not exactly comedic material. In this sense, Bicentennial Man stays true to its literary roots. However, the filmmakers added an entirely unnecessary romantic subplot absent in Asimov and Silverberg’s work. In the novel, Andrew’s quest for humanity was motivated by a desire for freedom and humanity itself, not love for a mortal woman (or her granddaughter, for that matter). The book’s robot chooses mortality as the ultimate conclusion of human existence, whereas the film’s Andrew does so merely to get married. This change fundamentally altered the story’s meaning, turning it into a sentimental Hollywood tearjerker complete with a Céline Dion song in the finale (unfortunately, not a joke).

These criticisms primarily concern the second half of the film, during which Robin Williams, otherwise excellent, sheds his robot suit, buries Sam Neill (Richard), meets Oliver Platt (Burns), and courts Embeth Davidtz (Amanda/Portia). The first half of Bicentennial Man is genuinely engaging and enjoyable, reminiscent of an era of elegant, old-fashioned science fiction steeped in the optimistic belief in technological progress prevalent during the genre’s Golden Age (the late 1930s and early 1940s). This optimism preceded the dystopian visions of Burgess, Dick, and Lem, who followed in the footsteps of Zamiatin, Huxley, and Orwell, heralding the New Wave of science fiction in the 1950s and 1960s. The film also stands out among contemporaneous science fiction cinema, which prioritized action over ideas. The final verdict is mixed: Bicentennial Man is a highly uneven film—possessing a certain charm but frequently veering into the pitfalls of a maudlin melodrama.