Whoa. Black and red? Badass. That’s the first impression of “Tron: Ares,” the latest addition to Disney’s long-dormant digital-frontier saga.

Even for newcomers, director Joachim Rønning rebuilds the Grid from the ground up, making this an easy entry point into the franchise. He swaps “Legacy’s” neon-blue glow for fiery reds and industrial shadows, creating a world that feels rebellious, lively and unmistakably human.

The result pulses with Nine Inch Nails’ dark energy instead of Daft Punk’s sleek beats – a reboot that leans into disillusionment over nostalgia, and it looks incredible.

Fifteen years after Sam Flynn’s attempt to rescue his father from the Grid, ENCOM and Dillinger Systems are racing to bring digital constructs into the physical world.

When a self-aware program named Ares, played by Jared Leto, starts questioning his purpose, the conflict shifts from merely surviving to exploring self-discovery. What follows is a mix of pursuit and awakening as Ares and Eve face what it truly means to exist, to feel and to break free from their creators’ control.

Leto delivers one of his most controlled and magnetic performances in years. His Ares is both powerful and wounded, a digital being haunted by the question of what makes life real. Greta Lee grounds the film with intelligence and quiet empathy as Eve, the human counterpart who sees something human in her creation.

Evan Peters is a slick, calculating Julian Dillinger, though the script gives him little dimension beyond corporate ruthlessness. Jodie Turner-Smith’s Athena adds a tragic elegance, while Jeff Bridges’ brief return as Kevin Flynn provides nostalgic closure without overshadowing the new story.

“Tron: Ares” redefines the franchise’s visual identity. Gone are the cool blues of “Legacy.” Instead, Rønning colors the Grid in black and pulsing red – hues that evoke rebellion and self-awareness rather than villainy. Each frame radiates like molten circuitry, with light piercing darkness sharply.

The CGI feels tangible and smooth, and the camera moves effortlessly through enormous digital cathedrals and wide-angle chases with impressive clarity. The light-cycle chase is a true highlight, and Ares’ reflection in his armor, along with the final white-suit rebirth, shows that even stillness can captivate.

Forget Daft Punk’s neon pulse – this time, the Grid belongs to Nine Inch Nails. Composers Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross replace electronic euphoria with industrial melancholy. Their score hums, crackles and growls, transforming the Grid into something you feel as much as hear. It’s darker, heavier and infinitely more human. During chase scenes, the music roars like a machine in overdrive; in quieter moments, it vibrates with longing. It’s less a soundtrack and more a heartbeat made of static.

Beneath the visual spectacle lies a deeply human story about creation, control and the yearning to feel. Ares’ red glow symbolizes rebellion and awakening; his transformation to white signifies rebirth.

The film flips the franchise’s usual binary – humans act like machines while programs develop empathy. Eve and Ares mirror each other: both searching for meaning in systems that confine them. The message comes across clearly but gracefully – technology without compassion is meaningless and empathy, not perfection, is what gives life permanence.

Ares’ crimson-lit debut, Eve’s digitization sequence, the roaring light-cycle chase and, most memorably, Ares’ encounter with Flynn’s digital echo, where he confesses:

“There’s something at work inside my soul I do not understand. I came here to find something. Something important. Permanence.”

That line sums up the film’s main idea: machines pursue humans, and humans lose control.

Visually stunning, thematically rich and driven by a thunderous score, “Tron: Ares” discovers emotional depth amidst its cold circuitry. Leto grounds the chaos with quiet conviction, and the film’s ending delivers unexpected poignancy.

But the second act stalls with excessive exposition, and the villain lacks depth. The tone – dense, heavy and industrial – might not appeal to fans expecting another neon joyride. Still, for those willing to engage, the experience is immersive and rewarding.

“Tron: Ares” is a daring evolution – more of a reawakening than a sequel. It replaces glossy nostalgia with existential grit, questioning if empathy can survive beyond the code that created it. Despite uneven pacing, it remains one of the most visually and sonically ambitious sci-fi films of the decade.