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“Logan” is set in the Oklahoma City of 2029

The cracked pavement, the broken bottle-strewn empty lots, the unfinished construction projects, the unwashed masses huddled together as the sun goes down in front of the Valero…welcome to Oklahoma City, circa, um, today.

Regardless of how many people champion the continued “renaissance” of the Downtown area as they gulp down their overpriced cups of coffee, let’s be honest: for the most part, Downtown OKC really does look like we tried to “future” it up a bit, but kinda gave up after we built the Chesapeake Arena and it’s Blade Runner-esque illuminative signage.

This past weekend, as I took in a screening of the latest X-Men film Logan, I was surprised that much of the film not only took place in a futuristic version of Oklahoma City, but one that was alarmingly better than the one we have now. It only took about 50 years of one cent tax raises and the retirement of Mick Cornett, but whatever version of MAPS that Oklahoma City is implementing in the year 2029, it’s working!

Loosely based on an extraordinarily dumb Marvel mini-series that featured inbred redneck Hulks and a character called Spider-Bitch, this filmic version of Logan is more streamed-down and uber-realistic, with an aged Wolverine and a dementia-riddled Professor X helping a young girl (with Wolvie DNA, you see) get to Canada. Meanwhile, on their tail are some mercenaries and you know the drill. Snikt snikt, fizz, fizz, oh what a relief it is.

At one point, the motley trio pull into Oklahoma City, which is now, literally, a shining beacon on the hill (or dusty mesas, as these scenes were shot in Louisiana and New Mexico, natch) in a world going to Hell; we’re apparently the new Las Vegas, filled with bright flickering lights and casinos on every corner including a city-block-wide Harrah’s where Logan and crew are quick to buy some cowboy-looking casino duds. (I didn’t see any Thunder tees, but this is Earth-10005 in the multiverse, so they may not exist.)

Clean, pristine and filled with dumb tourists blowing their life savings, this is an OKC that I’m willing to bet has either been reclaimed by the tribes (and celebrates Indigenous People’s Day to boot) or that Amazon sales tax finally paid off and we can have nice things now. Either way, I’d like to go back and watch Logan a second time with Steve Lackmeyer so he can live-Tweet his theories about why Hot Dog OKC is nowhere to be seen in these days of future past.

Also, I'm pretty sure this Oklahoma City police car is about 100 miles outside its jurisdiction...

Sadly, in rural Oklahoma, things aren’t faring so well. The water is bad, the soil is bad and all that grows is nasty corn used to make high-fructose corn syrup for energy drinks, while driverless big rigs own the highways. At this point, Logan and crew pull over to help a family in need and are invited back to their house for a chicken fried steak dinner; all of the family’s innards are pulled out of their chest cavities for their troubles by the aforementioned mercs.

At one point, Logan also refers to the local yokels a bunch of “Okie dickheads,” which I think would make a great, apropos local indie rock band name. Someone get the Criterion on the phone! "Tonight, opening for Horse Thief, the fuzzy wuss-drone of the Okie Dickheads!" And the crowd goes limp.

All in all, Logan is a fun-enough brutally ultraviolent flick to take the whole family to—at least it was at the toddler-filled screening I attended—that is hopefully more prescient than other sci-fi flicks in recent years; it’s good to know that while the rest of the world goes down in dystopic flames, if you’re living in Oklahoma City in the year 2029, it’s all shiny in 90. Say hello to the Big Leagues, OKC! Excelsior!


I’m willing to bet James Lankford would sign anti-mutie legislation. Follow Louis on Twitter at @LouisFowler.

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