Fifteen years after the release of Tron: Legacy, the sequel to the much-loved cult sci-fi adventure Tron—released in 1982—we finally return to the Grid. Tron: Ares is a bold, visually arresting and surprisingly introspective continuation of the ambitious digital saga. Directed by Joachim Rønning (Maleficent: Mistress of Evil), the film embraces the aesthetic and philosophical DNA of the franchise while pushing it into darker, more emotionally complex territory.
Where Legacy dazzled with its neon spectacle and Daft Punk’s pulsating score, Ares aims for something moodier and more human. In the latest instalment, The baton passes to Jared Leto’s Ares — a program designed with the ability to enter the human world. Leto delivers an unusually restrained performance that embraces the film’s existential themes. After crossing into the real world, Ares becomes obsessed with uncovering the “Permanence Code,” a secret protocol that might allow his digital body to endure where it should dissolve.
Elsewhere, Greta Lee and Evan Peters lend grounded intensity as heads of rival tech companies grappling with the moral fallout of their creations. For his part,
Jeff Bridges returns as Kevin Flynn is brief but poignant, offering long-time fans of the franchise another chance to enjoy the original Tron hero in a role that feels both symbolic and essential. Jodie Turner-Smith command every frame she’s in with quiet power as another program soldier.
The film’s real triumph, however, is the score. Nine Inch Nails’ Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross craft an industrial, pulse-pounding soundscape that both honours both original soundtracks.
The screenplay by Jesse Wigutow occasionally buckles under the weight of its own ambition— particularly in its philosophical pretensions —but it’s refreshing to see a big-budget sci-fi film wrestling sincerely with ideas of consciousness, AI and human identity.
For all its visual brilliance and conceptual ambition, Tron: Ares isn’t entirely without fault. The film’s early acts are dense with jargon and exposition — a bunch of nonsensical techno-babble that at times threatens to make the whole thing feel a little too “inside Baseball”. Yet as the story settles and the human stakes emerge, Rønning’s direction finds its rhythm, allowing the spectacle and the ideas to breathe. Some subplots feel hurried, and a few character arcs could use more grounding, but the sheer audacity of the film’s vision compensates for its stumbles.
Ares may not achieve the flawless balance of form and feeling it strives for, but it stands as a decent, heartfelt evolution of the Tron franchise.
