Let’s be honest—Short Circuit 2 is less a sequel and more a cash-in that proves even lovable robots should know when to retire. The original had its charm: a Cold War-era E.T. knockoff with Steve Guttenberg and a robot learning to love. But then came the sequel nobody really asked for—Short Circuit 2—which dumped Guttenberg, doubled down on cultural insensitivity, and dragged poor Johnny Five into the mean streets of 1980s Toronto pretending to be New York City.
And oh boy, the novelty of a wisecracking robot wears off faster than a Rubik’s Cube in a landfill.
Plot? We Barely Programmed One
Ben Jahrvi (played by Fisher Stevens in brownface, yes, we’ll get there) moves to “New York” to start a toy company. Why a toy company? Because this is a sequel, and sequels often confuse “stakes” with “nonsense.” Soon, Ben is recruited by some conmen to build mini Johnny Fives, unaware they’re actually using him to rob a bank. Naturally, Johnny Five shows up just in time to get entangled in the plot, develop a crush on a human woman, and almost die a long, drawn-out robotic death.
It’s less Short Circuit and more Death Wish: The Circuit Years.
Johnny Five: Cute Robot, Annoying Personality
Johnny Five is alive—and in full-on stand-up comic mode. He’s now quoting The Three Stooges, jamming to El DeBarge, and talking like a malfunctioning morning zoo DJ. It’s like the writers couldn’t decide if they wanted him to be WALL-E or Rodney Dangerfield, so they just split the difference and prayed for merchandising deals.
His voice is a scratchy, nasal assault of catchphrases, puns, and gibberish. If a Speak & Spell developed ADHD and read too many Reader’s Digests, it would sound like this.
By the third act, you’re not worried if Johnny Five will survive—you’re just hoping he’ll shut the hell up.
Fisher Stevens in Brownface: What Were We Thinking?
Here’s the big blinking neon problem: Fisher Stevens plays Ben, an Indian man with a cartoonish accent, painted skin, and all the authenticity of a Taco Bell in New Delhi. It was problematic in 1986. In 1988? Still problematic. Now? Straight-up cringe. It’s not Stevens’ fault entirely—he’s a good actor doing what the script demands—but there’s only so much “Oh my goodness gracious!” one can take before curling into a fetal ball of secondhand embarrassment.
It’s like watching a live-action impression of Apu from The Simpsons, but without the satire. Just the voice, the mannerisms, and none of the dignity.
Toronto Pretending to Be New York: Fooling No One
The movie’s set in New York, but it’s obviously Toronto. Like, offensively obviously. If the CN Tower were any more visible, Johnny Five would’ve tried to climb it. It’s a cityscape of low-stakes street crime, empty warehouses, and the kind of alleys that scream “we had no budget, just roll camera.”
The “Villains”: Wet Paper Towels in Suits
The bad guys here are a couple of bumbling low-level crooks trying to use Johnny Five for a bank heist. They’re about as threatening as soggy toast. You keep waiting for them to get flattened by a falling crate of robot arms or slip on an oil slick. Instead, they chew scenery like they’re in a low-budget Home Alone spinoff, and their big plan boils down to “make the robot do crimes and hope nobody notices.
Spoiler: people notice. Especially when your robot quotes TV commercials while tunneling into a bank vault.
The Robotic Beating: The Most Emotionally Confusing Scene of the ‘80s
Let’s talk about the scene that traumatized kids and baffled adults: Johnny Five getting beaten by a crowbar. That’s right. The lovable robot gets jumped by thugs and beaten within an inch of his circuitry. It’s slow, brutal, and weirdly graphic. Imagine The Passion of the Christ, but for toasters.
You’re not sure whether to feel sad, horrified, or just baffled by the tonal whiplash. A movie that five minutes ago was making fart jokes now wants you to mourn the brutalization of a children’s toy with sentience. Even Old Yeller wasn’t this cruel.
But There’s a Happy Ending… Sort Of
Johnny gets repaired (with a mohawk, because that’s how the ‘80s handled trauma), the bad guys go to jail, and Ben gets the girl. Johnny Five becomes an American citizen at the end, which somehow feels more like a threat than a resolution.
Cue El DeBarge again. Because nothing says emotional closure like synth-pop and dancing robots.
Final Thoughts: Power Off, Please
Short Circuit 2 is what happens when a studio says, “Hey, people liked the robot, let’s just do that again, but dumber and longer.” It’s a mess of tone, logic, and outdated comedy, wrapped in a package that pretends it’s kid-friendly while subjecting viewers to cultural appropriation, street violence, and philosophical questions about the soul of a forklift.
There’s no Guttenberg. The laughs are forced. And Johnny Five talks so much, you start rooting for the crowbar.
Final Rating: 1.5 Malfunctioning Circuits Out of 5
Watch it only if you’re nostalgic for the ‘80s, curious about how far Hollywood has (hopefully) come, or really, really into robot abuse as an emotional subplot.