Super 8

Sure to inspire a new generation of youngsters to pick up video cameras and start making their own movies, "Super 8" is an intentionally restrained monster movie that plays the heartstrings of its young characters against a nostalgic brand of filmic suspense. Dakota Fanning's more talented younger sister Elle steals the show as Alice Dainard, a young thespian called upon to act in a Super 8 movie being made by four preteen classmates in small-town Ohio, circa 1979. Alice's "mint" performance, during a touching nighttime love scene with her adolescent private investigator "husband" on a train platform, is interrupted by a terrible train crash. Charles (played with goofy aplomb by Riley Griffiths) is a child director with Hitchcock aspirations and an effective verbal command of the director's idiom. Charles's make-up assistant pal Joe (Joel Courtney) recently lost his mother in a factory accident. Joe's town-sheriff dad Jackson (Kyle Chandler) has his hands full dealing with the fallout of the enormous train crash that attracts a team of Army and CIA officials for a top secret clean-up operation. There's an escaped alien creature on the loose.

Writer/director J.J. Abrams ("Star Trek") is clearly having fun with playing two entertaining ends against the middle. On one side is the recreational zombie movie the kids are making to submit to a local film festival. Wait through the closing credits to watch their finished Super 8 product. On the other hand is the big budget sci-fi monster movie Abrams teases out as an homage to B-movies of the '50s. We don't even get a good look at the giant alien monster until the third act. The heart of the story lies in the budding romance between Alice and Joe in spite of the vociferous disapproval of their diametrically opposed fathers.

"Super 8" is a cool kids' movie made by young-minded adults who haven't lost their sense of inspiration for the magic of making movies from a child's perspective. Anything seems possible. If J.J. Abrams errs on the side of producer Steven Spielberg's wide-eyed brand of cinematic cheese (think "E.T.") it comes as a forgivable flaw. Less forgivable is letting Elle Fanning's character slip out of the plot for two too many scenes. "Super 8" does not benefit from the tightest editing. There are moments when the story stalls. A seemingly significant plot point involving thousands of mysterious little white heavy metal cubes goes largely unexplained. When contact is finally made with the alien creature, there isn't enough character development for the monster to enable much empathy. The list of quibbles goes on. These would-be deal breaking elements earn forgiveness due to the context of the overall narrative setting, which involves the unbridled joy of recreational filmmaking. Such enjoyment isn't such an old-fashioned idea after all.

Rated PG-13. 112 mins. (B) (Three Stars - out of five/no halves)

Source Code

21st Century Boy
Duncan Jones's Sci-Fi Potboiler
By Cole Smithey

Director Duncan Jones follows up his impressive debut feature "Moon" with this suspenseful sci-fi potboiler. Jake Gyllenhaal is ideally cast as Captain Colter Stevens. Stevens is a soldier caught between worlds. His apparent body is trapped in a plane cockpit. He communicates via video with military scientists who feed him instructions for his current mission. Vera Farmiga and Jeffrey Wright are the faces of a program called Source Code. Stevens's brain is wired into the Source Code which allows our hero to travel back in space and time for eight minute intervals, during which he must locate and disable a bomb. On a speeding Chicago commuter train Stevens sits opposite his attractive fellow suburbanite Christina Warren (Michelle Monaghan). The catch is, Stevens is inhabiting the body of a man who died along with everyone else on the train when a terrorist's bomb detonated. The unique situation makes mirrors especially uncomfortable for Stevens. "Find the bomber, and you'll find the bomb." Like "Groundhog Day" set in hell, Stevens is repeatedly blown up at the end of each eight minute sequence, but he gets ahead of the action he's able to now predict with uncanny precision. Michelle Monaghan lights up the film. The romantic spark which develops between Christina and Stevens brings warmth to the story. Newcomer Ben Ripley's brilliant script comes to vibrant life with a strong musical score by Chris Bacon. Here's the first great Hollywood action movie of the year.

There's a zeitgeist occurring in the genre of psychological thriller. "Inception," " The Adjustment Bureau," "Limitless," "Unknown," and "Source Code" all have certain unmistakable character and plot elements in common. In each one, secret technologies employed in covert operations. An atmosphere of perpetual confusion figures into each film. In every story the information that the main character has access to determines his ability to adapt in crisis situations. In "Unknown" Liam Neeson is at direct odds with his identity. He isn't the man people think he is. The same is true in "Limitless," with its drug-assisted, coming-of-genius parable, and in "Source Code," in which a soldier battles fate across time.

An interesting aspect of "Source Code" lies in the character development exposed in Colter Stevens's shifting attitudes toward his would-be love interest. Christina is nothing but receptive to Stevens regardless of his varying degrees of erratic behavior. She's an open book. During his first return to the recurring eight minute train predicament, Stevens dismisses Christina as a robot-of-distraction. It takes him another visit before he views her for the real and valuable person she is. The "love interest" aspect builds from there. The scenes build neatly in a logic that supports Stevens's goal of saving the passengers. A major shift occurs when Colter invites Christina to sit next to him to play a game of picking out suspicious traveler. A tangible romantic subplot develops into a sophisticated treatise on the nature of relationship. Gyllenhaal and Monaghan are thrilling together. Their natural sense of give-and-take-expression is spot on. As with "The Adjustment Bureau," the romantic connection polarizes the action.

"Source Code" features two dynamic female characters who take the story in opposing directions. Vera Farmiga's military scientist Colleen Goodwin fills the screen as she communicates within strict guidelines with Captain Stevens. It seems during her early talks with the wounded soldier that she might be closer to the robot-distraction he perceives Christiana to be. Then a funny thing happens. Colleen does a similar change-of-behavior as Stevens exhibited with Christina. There's grit, and muscle, and beauty, and even intelligent satire wrapped up in "Source Code." You might want to see it more than once.

 Rated PG-13. 93 mins. (A) (Five Stars - out of five/no halves)

The Adjustment Bureau

Simplicity Works
Damon and Blunt Go Down a Wormhole
By Cole Smithey

Writer/director George Nolfi makes a smooth transition from screenwriter to filmmaker with his feature film debut. As the screenwriter on such intrigue-action movies as "The Bourne Ultimatum" and "The Sentinel" Nolfi knows a thing or two about creating suspense. Loosely based on a 1954 short story by Philip K. Dick, Matt Damon makes a believable politician as David Norris. He's a blue-collar hotshot who gets robbed of a U.S. Senate seat after a tabloid revelation about a display of temper back in his college days. The sting of defeat is lessened when the young all-American everyman meets a beautiful dancer named Elise (Emily Blunt) in the men's room of the hotel where he faces disappointed supporters. Elise's story about hiding from hotel security in a toilet stall after being caught crashing a wedding, seems unlikely. Nonetheless, the forced plot point allows romantic sparks to fly between Damon and Blunt. The actors' convincing onscreen chemistry puts a simmer under the artificial sci-fi storyline that hovers above.

There's a clear comparison between "The Adjustment Bureau" and "Inception." Both films use the filmic medium for its obvious ability to surprise the viewer with juxtaposed environments that compress space and time. Here, a midtown Manhattan office building door might lead onto the field at Yankee stadium or let out on a cobblestone SoHo backstreet. Such metaphysical manipulation is the narrative backdrop for an old fashioned idea about a small group of bureaucrats controlling all human interaction. Think Terry Gilliam's "Brazil."

A handful of hat-wearing men run the planet. They are "adjusters" who monitor anomalies, like the unplanned meeting of Elise and David. Their job is to make corrections for such irregularities so that all goes according to "their" predetermined plan. They carry around special map books that show coded patterns of all human movement. It seems that David Norris has a promising political future before him if only he stays away from Elise. She too has a bright future, as a modern dancer and choreographer, if she doesn't fall into a long-term relationship with her love-at-first-sight object, namely David Norris.

Coincidence incites David to run into Elise after the men-in-hats discover the couple's initial meeting. Our not-so-cloaked guardians of freewill give David the once-over-twice. They warn him to stay away from the girl, ostensibly under pain of death. But the warning isn't enough to prevent fate from intervening when David runs into Elise on a public bus. Adjuster Harry Mitchell (Anthony Mackie) is instructed to prevent the incident from occurring. But Harry is worn out from the daily grind of his demanding job. Harry also harbors an inexplicable soft spot for Elise's and David's bond. He's not entirely "adjuster" material. When his bosses call in their heavyweight closer, Thompson (Terrance Stamp), to put a lid on the long-budding relationship, the pace quickens into an unconventional chase story. 

"The Adjustment Bureau" has a less threatening appeal than "Inception." Its clearly stated romantic connection is the heart of the puzzle. Eschewing the woof and boom of narrative false-bottoms, and faceless men firing blank rounds of ammunition, proves effective in putting across a simple story about two people who desperately want to be together. The simplicity works.

 Rated PG-13. 106 mins. (B-) (Three Stars - out of five/no halves)

 

Tron: Legacy

Spectacle Trumps Story
Tron Sequel Doesn't Know Where to Spend the Money
By Cole Smithey

I was working at the Campus Drive-In in San Diego in 1982 when Steven Lisberger's "Tron" opened up the computer "game grid" to allow for what was then a fairly dazzling display of special effects. At the time I didn't so much care that the story was severely lacking because the visuals were so unlike anything I'd seen before. The drive-in's gigantic screen served as a great canvas for the spectacle to mask the film's narrative shortcomings. Steven Lisberger ("Slipstream"-1989) did not go on to enjoy a notable career.

Nearly 30 years later audiences get a belated sequel that measures up to the original film inasmuch as it falls prey to the same priority of flash over substance. Enter Garrett Hedlund as 27-year-old Sam. He's the grown-up son of "Tron's" vanished hero Kevin Flynn (Jeff Bridges). Sam has a thing for riding his Ducati motorcycle at high speeds, especially if it involves escaping motorcycle cops. He lives a bare existence in a barely renovated garage under a freeway. .As primary share-holder in his dad's company ENCOM (think ENRON) Sam is finally coming around to the idea of taking some responsibility for the company's less than ethical business practices. Cut to Sam popping up inside the game grid where he survives a few rounds of death Frisbee before getting into a high-tech motorcycle game more suited to his testosterone-juiced skills. The beautifully designed cycles can collapse into a handheld bar of metal for portability. The race is the film's centerpiece. With better explanation about the rules of the game the audience might be better able to size up the action. Rounded walls and drop-through floors keep things interesting, but we don't really know how to judge the event.

Sam meets up with dad. Jeff Bridges's Kevin Flynn comes across as a Lebowski-inspired hippie who likes to call his son "man" and drop references to his "Zen" philosophy when he isn't waxing philosophical about "radical biodigital jazz." But Kevin is trapped inside the grid by CLU, an alter-ego evil twin he created who now rules the roost as a ruthless fascist dictator. For a prisoner in a system that grew beyond his control Flynn is a well-adjusted slacker. He doesn't seem to do much. Flynn is like a lazy rich person living within a gated community in a third-world country. He has what he needs so why bother with the rest of the world.

Michael Sheen injects some rock star theatrics ala David Bowie's "thin white duke" as a white-haired party maestro named Zeus. As one of CLU's loyal subjects Zeus is not a trustworthy fellow. A ticking-clock plot device means that Sam has just eight-hours to extract his dad from the grid and return home. Help from a super sexy Olivia Wilde as machine-girl Quorra promises to advance Sam's escape plan if only they can foil the do-it-all-villain CLU. Here again, character development is zero, but the up-for-anything Quorra exudes a warm fuzzy feeling that belies her artificial nature. 

The filmmakers have gone to a lot of trouble to render out via CGI a youthful-looking version of Jeff Bridges as CLU. But it's a wasted effort. The character looks like a mannequin. As a figurehead of evil CLU is too sterile to make much of an impression. There's something off about the technology that makes the artificial character seem like some form of advanced robot that would turn to mush if someone kicked him in his circuit board. It's a missed opportunity that there's no mano-y-mano showdown between Flynn and his younger seeming twin. And since CLU never professes much in the way of character defining ideas, we're left to presume that he's mainly just not down with Flynn's "Zen" philosophy.

If you're young and easily impressed, then "Tron: Legacy" won't feel like a rip off. As for the film's non-window-breaking 3D effects, you'll be left to scratch your head about why the filmmakers even bothered.

Rated PG. 127 mins. (C-) (Two Stars - out of five/no halves)

Daybreakers

Vampire Majority
Blood is the Commodity
By Cole Smithey

Sibling Australian filmmakers Michael and Peter Spierig ("Undead" - 2003) flip Hollywood's teen-friendly vampire trend on its head with a gory sci-fi world run by a majority population of bloodsuckers. In 2019 vampires outnumber humans, and blood supplies are running out. Sam Neil's sharp-toothed corporate villain Charles Bromley runs a monopoly that harvests blood from nude human bodies connected chockablock to a vast blood milking system. Yum. Hematologist vampire Edward Dalton (Ethan Hawke) is working on a vampire cure that Bromley and his well-armed minions want to prevent. It's not a far reach to see the filmmakers' satirical connection between blood and oil as battle breaks out between the vampires and a group of survivalist humans, led by Willem Dafoe in full badass mode. The film's pacing misses a few beats and the capitalist satire never quite pops, but "Daybreakers" comes as a welcome retort to the vampire bubblegum genre that horror fans have had to tolerate lately.

Edward Dalton is a kind of conscientious objector vampire. He's working on a synthetic blood that will substitute for the actual red body juice that Bromley envisions selling at a premium price to wealthy vampire connoisseurs as supplies dwindle. The subplots involving Sam Neil's diabolical character work better than the predictable resistance group storyline that functions more as an impetus for some memorable chases scenes. With less than five percent of the human race left, the vampire population are protected by police and military forces whose primary function is to hunt down and capture every last human for harvest. The problem is that Edward's synthetic blood isn't ready for prime time, as is proven in one of the film's more spectacularly gory scenes. Still, Edward's connection to the underworld of human freedom fighters brings him closer to delivering an actual cure to the problem of blood-fueled immortality. The satire may not be on a par with a great film like "Starship Troopers," but there's enough social construct to extrapolate on how the film's vampire logic reflects on a world owned and operated by the World Bank as it runs out of resources.

High-concept horror is a rarity. That "Daybreakers" is being dumped into the January doldrums bodes well for audiences looking for fast-twitch shocks and horrific bloody action. The look of the film is designed around the blue-tinted human harvesting machine prominently displayed on the poster. The potent image system becomes a visual touchstone to send your imagination reeling about the ability of a society to farm its own people, and what that might look like. Frightening too is what happens to vampires that don't get their daily doses of blood; they transmogrify into pale winged bat-like monsters called Subsiders whose quick movements spell trouble.

The film's greatest achievement could be that it keeps Generation X poster boy Ethan Hawke ("Training Day") in an action setting where his modulated style gets more traction than two Nicolas Cages put together. "Daybreakers" may be nothing more than a guilty pleasure drawn of exploding bodies in a hermetic atmosphere of shiny surfaces. But when vampires drink blood from glasses and mugs you know you're on equal footing with Bela Lugosi and Christopher Lee. "The blood is the life, Mr. Renfield."

Rated R. 98 mins. (B-) (Three Stars)

Terminator Salvation

Dark Future
Spectacle Trumps Satire
By Cole Smithey

More of a 21st century "Mad Max" than a continuation of the Terminator franchise that seasoned audiences are familiar with, director McG's post apocalyptic man versus industrial-robot-military-complex lurches through fits and starts of spectacle that almost add up to a story. Helena Bonham Carter plays mad scientist Dr. Serena Kogan who uses the body of executed convict Marcus Wright (played by Sam Worthington) for her latest and last--she's dying of cancer--experiment of creating an indestructible human/machine hybrid. Christian Bale plays alpha male Resistance leader John Connor, whose blanket radio transmissions begin with "If you're listening to this, you are the resistance." With his pregnant wife Kate (Bryce Dallas Howard) awaiting his return, Connor sets off on a mission to rescue a group of prisoners from the country-occupying robot clutches of Skynet, whose prisoner Kyle Reese (played by Anton Yelchin) is of special importance. From an action standpoint, "Terminator Salvation" is an eye-blasting fiesta accompanied by good performances from Bale, Worthington, Yelchin, and Moon Bloodgood as a hot shot soldier. However, the film comes up short with an underdeveloped story and some abysmal performances from actors in secondary roles--reference lackluster efforts from Common, as a Resistance soldier, and child actor Jadagrace playing a mute witness.

Bale's John Connor works under the gruff leadership of Michael Ironside's General Ashdown, whose guts-for-glory presence gets hung out to dry thanks to inattention from screenwriters John Brancato and Michael Ferris ("Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines"). Known for his performances in Paul Verhoeven's "Robocop" and "Starship Troopers," Ironside effectively chews what little scenery he's given but gets lost in a shuffle of gonzo Transformers-styled spectacle.

Where the movie excels best is in all things big, fast, and metal. In the 2018 prophesized world of perpetual darkness, Skynet's arsenal of bots includes articulated Hydrobot creatures that swim like snakes and have extracting tongue-and-claw mouths--think "Alien," and colossal spider-like Harvester aircraft capable of plucking up humans in their gigantic claws. The Harvesters go all Transformer when they eject high-revving motorcycle bots called Moto-Terminators that enable a thrilling chase sequence when Connor hot wires one.

As a sequel to a sequel of a sequel, "Terminator Salvation" doesn't waste time with how-we-got-here exposition, but as such doesn't connect easily to the rest of the franchise either. The tone here is distinctly more downbeat as reflected in the film's drab color palate and muted lighting. And if you're looking for humor, you've come to the wrong movie. John Conner is the now-grown character that Edward Furlong played in "T2," and whose purpose--to defeat Skynet and save the world--depends on his ability to rescue Kyle Reese as the man who will eventually father him. (Got it?) The future-past-future time device comes off as an obvious ploy designed to milk more sequels. The trouble is that the screenwriters don't build enough character development around the quirky plot anchor. Chemistry between Bale and Bryce Dallas Howard is zilch, with Howard visibly straining to work up some crystal of romantic attraction with a character over-amped about his responsibility to save humanity. Connor listens dutifully to cassette recordings his mother made to guide him on his mission, but he doesn't share as much communication with the woman who will bear his child. As a result, Sam Worthington's cyborg-with-a-beating-heart Marcus presents a more interesting character, and steals the movie as a rival anti-hero. A chance meeting with Blair Williams (Moon Bloodgood), the last badass woman on the planet, gives the movie a much-needed jolt of sensuality.

"Terminator Salvation" isn't the sci-fi extravaganza I'd hoped for, but it does fulfill on its promise of visually articulating the robot mentality that America's military seems geared to accomplish. Without a someone like a Paul Verhoeven writing and directing it, the Terminator franchise will slug out another sequel every so many years for audiences to get to the bottom of their popcorn. The opportunity for loaded satire of colored thematic fruits from such ripened narrative soil will likely go unseeded. There is, however, a wellspring of potential in the franchise for the right filmmaker to generate a "Starship Troopers" kind of frisky movie that goes beyond the constraints of spectacle-generated entertainment toward sophisticated sci-fi satire. Until that time comes, take what you can get.

Rated PG-13. 116 mins. (B-) (Three Stars)

Star Trek

Let's Do Warp Speed Again
Sci-Fi Classic Spins Off Better Than Ever
By Cole Smithey

Fusing a carefully chosen cast with stunning sci-fi spectacle, and a storyline that retains the workmanlike elements of Gene Roddenberry's original television series, director J.J. Abrams ("Mission Impossible III") successfully forms a new beginning for the Star Trek franchise. Going back to the calamitous astral circumstances of James Tiberius Kirk's birth, the story builds as the young rebellious Kirk (Chris Pine) joins the Starfleet Academy at the advice of U.S.S. Enterprise veteran Captain Pike (Bruce Greenwood). Fast friendships, rivalries, and romantic overtures connect Kirk to Dr. "Bones" McCoy, Spock (Zachary Quinto), and Uhura (Zoe Saldana) before the crew is thrust into the thick of their first mission aboard the latest version of the Enterprise. Dark Romulan leader Captain Nero (well played by an unrecognizable Eric Bana) sets a trap for the Enterprise to enable the destruction of the planet Vulcan and Earth. Abrams savors establishing the relationships and quirks of Roddenberry's Star Trek characters that arguably outshine every other sci-fi on-screen legacy. The ensemble succeeds in capturing the essence of his or her iconic character, and an extended cameo by Leonard Nimoy adds considerable flavor to the exhilarating spectacle on hand. 

Screenwriters Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman wisely choose to focus their story on the circumstances and personal characteristics of Spock and Kirk that bind them as friends and natural-born leaders. Spock's heritage as a half-human Vulcan, whose emotions can interrupt his otherwise coldly logical approach to situations, exhibits a jealous competitiveness Kirk taunts with his purposeful physicality and strategic gamesmanship. When he defeats a training program that Spock has developed, Kirk is brought before his Starfleet peers and publicly put on probation by Admiral Barnett (Tyler Perry) for "cheating." Spock's visible sneers glance off Kirk whose fast-friendship with the flight-fearing Medical Officer McCoy (Karl Urban) insures that Kirk will gain entry to the pending mission regardless of his persona non grata status.

In space, the refreshed gang of  TV series regulars take their positions at the Enterprise helm with a contagious excitement that seeps through Michael Kaplan's spot-on costume designs that play as simultaneously retro and modern. As Sulu, John Cho mans the ships flight controls, while Anton Yelchin brings a thick Eastern European accent to bear as the mentally adept Chekov. Along with Zoe Saldana's romantically driven Uhura, the performances evince deftly made choices that put the audience comfortably in the exact atmosphere that George Takei, Walter Koenig, and Nichelle Nichols exquisitely established in Star Trek's initial series.

The film's main trump card is the way it balances lush astrophysical designs against the mammoth constructs of the Romulan vessel, and yet manages action set-pieces rooted in the kind of contained surroundings that gave the TV series its fuzzy underbelly. An exciting sequence involving a gigantic Romulan drill looming down on the Vulcan planet engages Kirk in some good old-fashioned hand-to-hand combat, while Sulu exerts martial arts influenced sword play. It's a deliberate kind of action setpiece that suggests a dose of humor for its restrained technology. There's nothing forced or heavy-handed going on. "Star Trek" is about a multi-ethnic culture working together to connect with the unknown. With its built-in mission statement, it represents a culture of civility and understanding that is universal. Perhaps that's why the filmmakers have strived so hard to maintain the essence of a television series that has spawned more spin-off than any in the history of TV. This, however, is a movie that must be relished on the big screen to fully appreciate how big Star Trek has gotten. Indeed, Star Trek has lived long and prospered.
(Paramount) Rated PG-13. 126 mins. (B+) (Four Stars)

Battlefield Earth

Ooga Booga Booga
Hubbard's Sci-fi Fantasy Means Less Than Zero
by Cole Smithey

"Battlefield Earth," based on a crappy 1982 sci-fi novel by cult religion dipshit L. Ron Hubbard, is so inept and pathetic that it should forever end any questions about the validity of Hubbard’s manufactured religion of Scientology. This grade Z movie should likewise have the effect of insuring that none of its cast, crew, or director ever be allowed to work in cinema ever again. In spite of, Scientology member and Battlefield Earth actor and producer, John Travolta’s statements about there being "no connection between "Battlefield Earth" and Scientology," the correlation is unavoidable. Part of Scientology’s pitch is that, 75 million years ago, an evil ruler named "Xenn" implanted evil spirits (called Thetans) inside volcanoes on Earth, and that all humans are made up of these "Thetans," which can only be removed by spending lots of money on Scientology. Chortle.

In "Battlefield Earth," the year is A.D. 3000 and man is an endangered species enslaved by Klingon-styled aliens (called "Pyschlos") from the planet — you guessed it — Psychlo. Man has somehow devolved into a gloomy existence as dumb tribal cave dwellers, soon-to-be-led by dummy caveman number one, Jonnie Goodboy Tyler (Barry Pepper - Saving Private Ryan). Psychlo Earth chief, Terl (John Travolta - Pulp Fiction) is especially mean and nasty because, aside from having long stinky dreadlocks, he has just been ordered by the Psychlo "home office" to remain in command on Earth for the rest of his life rather than return to his home planet as he had planned. Terl schemes for vengeance by having his "man-animal" slaves mine enough gold that he can buy his way into becoming ruler of Psychlo. Terl makes the fateful mistake of strapping Jonnie in front of a wisdom machine that lasers vast quantities of information into Jonnie’s little "man-animal" brain. Jonnie emerges from his Clockwork Orange crash course to impart geometry rules about triangles to his cohorts. With this important (sic) information, the man-animals outsmart their keepers by waltzing into Fort Knox and removing enough gold distract Terl, so they can blow everything up and win their freedom. You can practically hear Hubbard yukking it up to himself while he wrote this crap — "yeah, that’s a pretty good ideer."

There isn’t one good scene in the whole movie, much less a scene that actually moves the story forward in any way. It’s just a bunch on nonsensical sci-fi junk dialogue and atmosphere stuck indiscriminately together. It’s about as entertaining as watching a stagnate pond. The movie plays like a bad rip-off of Xena: Warrior Princess, but without any of the jokes or even it’s ironic continuity jumps. If director Roger Christian (Nostradamus, and assistant director on Star Wars: Episode I: The Phantom Menace) had been replaced by Blaxploitation master, Rudy Ray Moore (Dolomite: The Human Tornado), Battlefield Earth might of at least had a chance of realizing its inner googly moogly B-movie potential. Rudy Ray Moore would have let Terl’s black assistant Ker (Forest Whitaker - The Crying Game) take over the whole story with lots of ha-ha villainous rapture and physical slap-stick super-action. Unfortunately, Christian can’t even make his mistakes look sincere. When a Psychlo bimbo with an 11 inch tongue walks into the same room with a different character after having just eluded to giving Terl some well-placed tongue in the previous scene, its just one more dumb continuity mistake to remind the audience of how slowly the clock is moving while they watch this torturous morass of a movie. If you thought Plan Nine From Outer Space was as bad as movies could get, think again.

Lafayette Ronald Hubbard said, "If you really want to enslave people, tell them that you’re going to give them total freedom." "Battlefield Earth" seems to be saying, if you really want to divert people, insult them with garbage. Both theories are terribly flawed, but the second one is easier to see through because in this day and age people can spot a bad movie quicker than they can spot corrupt religions. The only perk in "Battlefield Earth" is that, in this case, they are one and the same. Audiences will have the freedom to walk out of the theater on this movie, and I expect many who don’t read this review will exercise that right. I just hope they don’t forget to ask for a refund at the box-office.

Rated PG-13. 117 mins. (F) (Zero Stars)