If you’ve seen the previews over the last few months, you already know that The Island is about a compound full of white-clad people, all of whom are eagerly waiting for their names to come up in the lottery which will cause them to be whisked away to “The Island,” the supposed last inhabitable place on earth, and a lush paradise to boot.

Unfortunately, the people are all just clones living a lie, and the island is a fiction constructed to keep them docile. The purpose of the clones is to provide spare parts for the rich humans living in the real world of 2015 so that they can live longer. When Lincoln Six Echo (Ewan McGregor) and Jordan Two Delta (Scarlett Johansson) discover the truth, they break out and make a run for it. Action ensues, and, eventually, all the clones are set free.

These aren’t spoilers because, as I mentioned, this was all in the previews. Actually watching the 127-minute movie adds little to this, other than providing considerable time to ruminate on why one is there.

During that time I came to conclude that The Island is not just another movie-like object from director Michael Bay (who’s brought us other blockbuster violations of the public trust such as Armageddon and Pearl Harbor); it is, in fact, one of the most brazen exercises in subliminal advertising ever undertaken.

Product placement is nothing new, but The Island takes it to new heights of both quantity and quality. Xbox, Apple, Reebok, Maxim, Aquafina, and Ben & Jerry’s are just a few of the brands we’re peppered with, but the real winners are players like Mack, Michelob Light and Cadillac, all of whom enjoy stunning shots that start on their logos and then pan out, like they’re getting cameos. The slick, futuristic Mack truck is carrying huge steel train wheels—how tough is that!—and stars in a long highway sequence as McGregor pushes the wheels off the back to destroy pursuing vehicles. The cool blue capsule of future-Michelob Light is the only color in the shot as the camera swings back and forth around it, ostensibly following the conversation of the characters but really, we suspect, in a kind of dreamy beer orbit.

And the Cadillac is a high-performance concept car. The shot starts on the grille logo, then the two McGregors (clone and original) enter the garage in the background.

McGregor One gawks.

McGregor Two smiles and says, “Do you like it?”

(Oh yes, we think, we like it!)

McGregor Two: “It’s an ’09 V12 Cadillac.”

Camera swings back across the grille.

So there you go: brand, product name, specifications, release date, then back to brand. 

What elevates this from merely cheesy to outright nefarious is the structure of the movie as a whole. Lacking any meaningful dialogue or real characters, certain words embedded in the dialogue float up—such as the word product. The clones are referred to as products, so the dialogue is sprinkled throughout with the word, as in “We have two loose products in sector blah-blah.”

So think about it: at the beginning, we’re shown a clean, soothing, futuristic environment. Everyone is wearing white, and they’re all pretty, and it’s very soothing—almost hypnotic. The word “product” starts to percolate around in the dialogue, pop-pop-pop, and soon brands start to jiggle and dance before our eyes, all interspersed with just enough action and generic sexiness to keep us docile.

If this sounds paranoid, then I challenge you to find any other reason for this movie to exist. It’s Occam’s Razor, plain and simple.

On the plus side, it elevates The Island from the mundanely bad to the uncommonly evil.