[Ed. – Comprehensive [sic] alert.]
Alas: Aloha falls more in line with the Elvis Presley tradition, in which Hawaiian concerns serve as plot-driving stepping stones for a white hero’s personal and romantic misadventures.
It’s also a puzzlingly disjointed ditty that falls much closer to Elizabethtown than Jerry Maguire on the spectrum of Cameron Crowe hits and misses. Amy Pascal was right in those leaked Sony emails when she bemoaned a story that made no damn sense and declared, “I’m never starting a movie again when the script is ridiculous.” …
Gilcrest [Bradley Cooper] has sold his soul to the devil, a cunning billionaire with an interest in satellites (Bill Murray) and is in town to hustle together a deal to get local Hawaiian sovereignty leaders to bless a ceremonial gate opening that has something to do with a U.S. military rocket launch.
It says a lot that Aloha is a bigger disaster than this weekend’s actual disaster flick, San Andreas, merited only by a cast that admirably acquits themselves of the movie around them, and the fact that we can assume the well-meaning Crowe meant well. But not even the combined forces of Cooper, McAdams, Stone, Murray, Alec Baldwin, and John Krasinski can save Aloha. Characters collide so hard and fast, it feels like entire scenes are missing. The plot devolves into a nonsensical race against the clock involving missiles and Chinese hackers just to give Gilcrest something heroic to do.
Meanwhile, Aloha’s already caught heat from Native Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders for appropriating its title from a word laden with meaning and history. The outraged should be more incensed that for a movie set in Hawaii, there are precious few non-white faces onscreen.