Scott Pilgrim Takes Off Is a Breezy Reimagining That Hits the Right Notes
Photo courtesy of Netflix
There was a brief period 13 years ago where it felt like Scott Pilgrim was unavoidable (at least in nerd circles, anyway). The comic, which went from a relative unknown to an indie success story, wrapped up in July of 2010 and was followed by a transmedia blitz, including a cult classic film adaptation from Edgar Wright and a beat em’ up videogame from Ubisoft. But instead of letting it overstay its welcome, author Bryan Lee O’Malley decided to move on, explaining that if he continued working on the series for another decade, he would “be dead inside.” That said, he also left the caveat that he would “think about playing with Scott Pilgrim some more” further down the line.
Given this long gap, many were quite surprised to hear that this punchy Canadian was returning, but in a TV series this time. The new show is a Netflix anime being helmed by O’Malley alongside BenDavid Grabinski, with Edgar Wright returning as an executive producer and nearly the entire cast of the 2010 film adaptation reuniting to reprise their roles. Most, including myself, assumed this meant we would be getting a fairly 1:1 adaptation of the comic that would fill in the gaps missed by the movie, but the reality is far more interesting: Scott Pilgrim Takes Off is a meta reimagining of the original that tells a (mostly) new story. It ties in with a trend of authors coming back to their works years later to comment on their past creations, tease fans, and make self-aware alterations, such as with The Matrix: Resurrections, the Evangelion Rebuilds, or Final Fantasy 7 Remake. The result is a delightful animated series that approaches this narrative from a new perspective. Even if it doesn’t quite carry the same impact as what came before, it finds its own identity while also channeling the sharp humor, exciting fights, and bracing portrayal of young adulthood that made the comic a hit.
For those unfamiliar, Scott Pilgrim (Michael Cera) is a Toronto native layabout in his early twenties who spends his days playing bass in a band of ambiguous talent and attending parties he’s not invited to. At one such party, he spots Ramona Flowers (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), a girl continually making appearances in his dreams. The two hit it off on their first date, but soon after, Ramona breaks the bad news: to keep their relationship going, Scott needs to track down and defeat her seven evil exes. Although Scott Pilgrim Takes Off more or less begins in the same place, it doesn’t take long until it deviates from the established plot. I’ll keep the details vague on how and why, but the main difference here is that in this rendition, we largely follow Ramona as she confronts her previous significant others and tries to piece together why events have gone off course.
This switch largely succeeds because the increased emphasis on Ramona’s perspective gives her ample room to work through her complicated relationships with her exes as she’s given a more active role in the story. At its best, this makes for sequences where she confronts the pain she’s caused, such as with Roxie (Mae Whitman), forcing her to seek resolutions that don’t result in her exes being pulverized into a pile of coins. Even as she deals with many of the same self-discoveries as in the original, the shifted focus gives her increased agency in the narrative and refreshingly foregrounds her point of view.
Beyond Ramona, many other members of the extended cast get additional screen time, which is certainly a positive thing—they’re a memorable bunch of trainwrecks. In particular, we get quite a bit more of characters like Wallace Wells (Kieran Culkin), Young Neil (Johnny Simmons), and Knives (Ellen Wong), who all make the most of their scenes through their meatier (and often hilarious) roles. Related to this, although I was somewhat concerned how the vocal performances from this crew would turn out, as screen acting skills don’t always transfer to voice acting gigs, their line deliveries don’t drop a beat. In particular, Mary Elizabeth Winstead gives Ramona excellent range, which helps build toward affecting moments of reconciliation and punchy comedy.
Despite all of the changes to the plot, this story’s soul is intact, and that starts with its sense of humor. Some of these gags are remixes of what came before, such as a new variant on Scott’s disastrous first conversation with Ramona, while others are entirely fresh bits that cleverly play on old dynamics. There is quite a bit of meta-commentary, but these gags almost always feel well-considered rather than self-indulgent, which is impressive considering all of its references to its own history and other pop culture touchstones. It certainly helps that O’Malley seems to have been so deeply involved because the dialogue is referential, playful, and frequently cuts to the core of these characters’ issues in ways reminiscent of the original. And visually, even though it’s missing the sharp editing that helped make Edgar Wright’s spin on the material so funny, it finds new strengths elsewhere.