Fifteen years. That’s how long we’ve waited for another trip to the Grid. The TRON franchise has always operated on its own peculiar timeline—pioneering computer-generated imagery in 1982, then returning in 2010 with TRON: Legacy, a film so visually stunning it seemed impossible audiences didn’t embrace it. I saw Legacy in 3D IMAX and it remains one of the best uses of either technology I’ve ever experienced (and how about that still-iconic Daft Punk score?). The film was a revelation that somehow failed to click with mainstream crowds, and for years it seemed like the series was done. Shelved. Another victim of being too far ahead of its time.

But now TRON: Ares has arrived, and director Joachim Rønning (Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales) has done what once seemed impossible: revive the TRON universe without repeating it. Instead of dragging us back into the digital world, he’s brought the Grid crashing into ours. It’s the first time a program enters the real world, and the timing couldn’t be more urgent. We’re living in a moment where everyone’s simultaneously terrified and fascinated by AI, where the line between algorithm and intelligence feels thinner every day. What does it mean to build something smarter than us? What happens when it learns to feel? TRON: Ares doesn’t just gesture at these questions—it lives inside them.

Oh, and a quick PSA: bring earplugs. I’m serious. Whether you’re watching in a boutique theater or on a wall-to-wall IMAX screen, just pack ear protection. This movie is loud. Not regular action-movie loud, but vibrating-your-fillings, rattling-your-corneas thunder. The wall of sound comes from the relentless digital effects, skull-rattling action sequences, and a full-throttle score from Nine Inch Nails. Oscar-winners Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, composing under their band name for an outside project for the first time since 1996’s Quake, are in full industrial chaos mode.  They don’t accompany the movie—they consume it. The opening alone, set to “As Alive As You Need Me to Be,” announces that this TRON operates in a different register. And when “Who Wants to Live Forever? (featuring Judeline)” kicks in over the credits, you’ll understand: this is sonic assault as art form.

The story follows Ares (Jared Leto, Dallas Buyers Club), a highly sophisticated program sent from the digital realm into reality on a dangerous mission. Created by Julian Dillinger (Evan Peters, I Am Woman)—a bratty tech-bro CEO with just the right mix of genius and recklessness—Ares is designed to infiltrate networks and self-destruct after 29 minutes. Except he doesn’t want to self-destruct. Instead, he seeks something radical: permanence. The ability to exist beyond his expiration date. When he crosses paths with Eve Kim (Greta Lee, Problemista), the brilliant but reclusive CEO of ENCOM, their unlikely alliance becomes the film’s emotional core.

Leto is fantastic here, playing Ares not as some wide-eyed robot learning to be human through sitcom mishaps, but as an evolving intelligence whose curiosity drives transformation. There’s precision in every movement, emotional weight in choices that never overplay the “discovering humanity” tropes. The film even gives him a thing for Depeche Mode, which humanizes the personification of a computer program without condescension. Lee, an actor I often struggle to connect with, matches him beat for beat, balancing tech-genius energy with unexpected action-hero capability. You believe these two could change each other. Their chemistry sells the film’s subversively optimistic thesis: maybe humans and AI can actually learn from one another.

The supporting cast doesn’t take a backseat. Jodie Turner-Smith (Queen & Slim) is magnetic as Athena, a program who never questions her directives—which makes her far more dangerous than any villain plagued by doubts. Gillian Anderson (wearing her now-signature “transatlantic” accent) appears as Julian’s ethically exhausted mother, trying and failing to rein in her son’s hubris. And Jeff Bridges (Only the Brave) returns as Kevin Flynn, looking characteristically comfortable while everyone else sweats in $60,000 light suits. His presence feels essential rather than nostalgic, a reminder of where this journey started and why it still matters.

Visually, this thing looks like a billion bucks. Cinematographer Jeff Cronenweth (Being the Ricardos) shoots with precision and poetry, soaring over cityscapes then diving close enough to catch individual eyelashes. The lightcycle sequences—shot practically, then enhanced—are breathtaking. You feel every turn. Every near-miss. Every crash. I don’t usually lean forward during movies (it’s rude to whoever’s behind me), but I couldn’t help myself. TRON: Ares locks you in from the reworked Disney logo and doesn’t let go.

Production designer Darren Gilford, who also designed TRON: Legacy, evolves the visual language beautifully, giving each Grid its own distinct personality: greens for ENCOM, blood reds for Dillinger, that classic electric blue for Flynn. Costume designers Christine Bieselin Clark and Alix Friedberg elevate the iconic light suits into something sculptural and functional, pieces of wearable architecture that somehow cost five figures each to create.

There’s an extended action sequence that lasts nearly 45 minutes with barely a pause for breath. Chase scenes on foot, via Lightcycle, through the air, across water—danger is everywhere, relentless, kinetic. Rønning orchestrates it with confidence, never losing spatial clarity even when the chaos peaks.

The AI commentary sits right on the surface, impossible to miss but never heavy-handed. In 2025, we’re all watching algorithms shape our reality—recommending our entertainment, predicting our behavior, learning from every interaction. We’ve fed these systems so much information that control feels like an illusion. TRON: Ares presents an extreme vision of what breaks down when there’s no understanding of nuance, no accounting for variation, no consideration of what happens when something learns too well. It’s a cautionary tale wrapped in neon and noise, and whether we’re actually headed toward the Battle Royale-style finale depicted here remains to be seen. But the warnings land clearly without sacrificing entertainment.

Most surprising? The emotional engagement. The connection between Ares and Eve—tentative at first, then intense—feels earned rather than manufactured. Even the antagonists get dimensions, motivations that extend beyond “villain because plot.” It’s not about who wins. It’s about who survives unchanged. In a film where digital minds start to out-empathize their human creators, that’s no small question. Is it perfect? No. The third act gets dense. Some exposition lands like a data dump. But the ride? Worth it. Visually, sonically, emotionally—it checks all the boxes.

Like its predecessors, TRON: Ares may be too far ahead of the curve for immediate embrace. People will probably undervalue it now, ding it for narrative simplicity or volume excess, then rediscover it in five years and finally appreciate its strengths. That’s the franchise’s curse and legacy. But for those willing to upgrade tickets to IMAX or Dolby, to surrender to the wall of sound and visual excess, it delivers exactly what it promises: glorious, teeth-rattling fun.

Just don’t forget those earplugs.