As a dedicated admirer of the original Tron, I never imagined a third film would emerge from that pioneering 1982 classic. When Disney resurrected the franchise with Tron: Legacy in 2010, it felt like an apology for the beloved but dated original—a slick attempt to reclaim its cool factor. Although Legacy dazzled with its visuals, its hefty budget and the awkward digital de-aging of Jeff Bridges left it feeling like an expensive experiment rather than a triumphant return.
Tron: Ares
- Release Date: October 10, 2025
- Director: Joachim Rønning
- Writer: Jesse Wigutow
- Cast: Jared Leto, Greta Lee, Evan Peters, Jodie Turner-Smith, Hasan Minhaj, Arturo Castro, Gillian Anderson, Jeff Bridges
- Rating: PG-13 (violence/action)
- Runtime: 119 minutes
Though the mere announcement of Tron: Ares rekindled my enthusiasm, the final film leaves a bittersweet aftertaste. It delivers a feast for the eyes—glorious neon choreography, inventive combat sequences, and a thunderous Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross score that rouses the soul. Yet beneath its radiant surface lurks a skeletal plot driven by a MacGuffin and dialogue devoid of genuine conviction.
Setting aside any remnants of Tron: Legacy’s narrative, Tron: Ares plunges us into a clandestine battle between two tech juggernauts. ENCOM’s visionary CEO Eve Kim (Greta Lee) seeks to deploy digitized creations for humanitarian breakthroughs, while Dillinger Systems, led by the ruthless Julian Dillinger (Evan Peters), eyes their weaponization. Both factions race to uncover Kevin Flynn’s long-lost Permanence Code, the key to rendering programmatic lifeforms indestructible.
Eve’s altruism yields the first breakthrough, only to draw Dillinger’s ire. He unleashes his formidable AI enforcer, Ares (Jared Leto), to seize the code—sparking a high-stakes chase that careens through digital and physical realms alike.
Visual Brilliance and a Pulse-Pounding Score
If you crave a cineplex powerhouse that never lets up on spectacle, Rønning has you covered. From gravity-defying lightcycle pursuits to vertiginous aerial dogfights, the film checks every action box with precision. Contracted shots intercut tight character close-ups with expansive set pieces, heightening emotional stakes even as the plot drifts into abstraction. Expertly blended CGI and practical effects push this iteration of The Grid farther than ever before.
Complementing the dazzling visuals is the formidable score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross. Steeped in industrial thunder and haunting melodies, the soundtrack pulses through every scene, eclipsing even Daft Punk’s celebrated homage in Tron: Legacy by infusing each moment with visceral urgency.
An Uninspired Narrative Core
Yet for all its luminous flair, Tron: Ares lacks narrative depth. Jesse Wigutow’s script offers a rudimentary morality play with neatly divided heroes and villains, forsaking any meaningful exploration of its technologically fraught premise. Gillian Anderson’s brief turn as Dillinger’s morally conflicted mother teases nuance but ultimately serves as little more than a perfunctory moralizing aside.
Supporting characters, from Hasan Minhaj’s genial CTO to Arturo Castro’s comic relief, struggle to transcend their archetypal roles. Their presence is a curious contrast to the film’s technical artistry, highlighting how lean plotting and flat characterization can undermine the grandest of cinematic visions.
Jared Leto’s Miscast Performance
At the heart of the film’s dramaturgy is Ares—a synthetic soldier who becomes haunted by his own disposability. Tragically, Leto’s portrayal never convinces. His unkempt mane and scruffy beard feel more actorly affectation than organic transformation, and his delivery lacks the subtle emotional shifts essential for the role.
Moments designed to evoke childlike wonder—Ares’s first taste of rain or his silent communion with a Depeche Mode soundtrack—fail to resonate, as Leto’s impassive gaze betrays little. The character’s metamorphosis from obedient enforcer to self-aware being remains surface-level, short-circuited by a performance that rarely captures genuine awe or introspection.
In a franchise known for groundbreaking visuals and nostalgic resonance, Tron: Ares feels diminished by its reluctance to risk substantive storytelling. While it may thrill audiences with its sensory overload, its cultural imprint may fade once the credits roll—save perhaps for spawning a new Nine Inch Nails album.
