Starring Matt Damon, Jodie Foster, and Alice Braga. Rated 14A.

It’s a crime against humanity to not quite like a Matt Damon movie, right? And, worse, his new movie, Elysium—which has some troubles—was directed by Neill Blomkamp, who gave us District 9, the excellent sci-fi apartheid allegory with extraterrestrial shrimp. Although, Damon plus Blomkamp minus crustaceans still equals 23.7 zillion Adam Sandlers.

The South African–born writer-director certainly has a thing for metaphor. In Elysium, themes around the haves and have-nots, medical care and its absence, immigration issues, and more are like thoughtful boots to the noggin. In the year 2154, a dystopian Earth is “diseased, polluted, and vastly overpopulated” (that doesn’t sound familiar). Meanwhile, the elite inhabit Elysium, an orbiting satellite that looks like Maxfield Parrish’s Daybreak crossed with the universe’s dullest luxury retirement community.

Damon in robo gear to the rescue! Er, well. Damon’s ex-con Max gets a lethal dose of radiation at his droid-factory job and will die in five days unless he can get to Elysium, where machines instacure all medical problems. Goodbye, athlete’s foot! In a deal with rebel forces, a souped-up Max must download data from the head of an evil exec (William Fichtner) into his own while evading a sadistic mercenary (Sharlto Copley) working for Elysium’s coup-minded secretary of state (Jodie Foster). There is much slo-mo firing of large guns. Things explode.

The effects are cool; there is intelligence and tough-ass action; and Michael Bay wasn’t involved that we know of. But Matt Damon with metal bits covering much of Matt Damon becomes disengaging. And Foster gives a strange, uncomfortable robo-Euro performance. Also, the lovely Alice Braga plays the single mother of a sick child and the heartstring-yanking reaches shameless heights. The climax is wholly predictable.

On the other hand, instant reconstruction after one’s head explodes: nice.