On the surface, Battlefield Earth seems like a simple enough story. In the year 3000 an advanced alien species called the Psychlos conquers Earth in nine minutes, force the remaining humans into manual labor in a dome outside Denver, humans lead an uprising based on their ability to learn how to fly F-18 fighter jets in a matter of minutes and they live happily ever after while John Travolta is locked in a cage. Sounds promising, right?
For some reason, the movie has been on my hard drive for years. I somehow forced a friend to join me in this two hour spectacle. We both figured that there was no way the movie could live up to its terrible reputation. People were just bagging on it because of the Scientology connection and everyone else was doing it, we were sure of it. Mother of God we were wrong. This movie is absolutely, without any shred of doubt, the worst movie I have ever seen in my two decades of cinema-going existence. There isn’t a single redeeming quality to it. The acting is poor, the dialogue is so laughably bad there is no comparison except for the comments section of a newspaper website. Combine the previous two and it still wouldn’t match the complete train wreck that is the directing and costume designs.
“But Chad” you say, “I’m still not convinced. Lord Xenu would never allow such a travesty to happen. Surely your thetan levels are causing interference.” To that I say, shut the fuck up and behold these bullet points of truth:
- You could take the entire filmography of John Woo and it still wouldn’t compare to the use of slow motion in this film. The running time is two hours, I’d venture at least 45 minutes of it is spent in slow-mo. Slowmo porn.
- The ENTIRE movie is filmed at an angle. It’s as if the director just finished a class at film school where they learned about angled camera shots and decided, “Hey you know what, that was pretty cool! I’m going to make a movie where it’s nothing but that!”
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Doing Eiffel 65 Proud 118 minutes of Dutch Angle hotness. Also, after his lesson on camera angles, he must have watched Heat because it feels like someone spread a bunch of blueberry jam on the screen. Every scene, no matter the location, has some kind of blue tint to it.
- It’s hard to actually delve into the plot of the film without going on a massive tirade. But let’s just go into some of the more ridiculous details:
- The John Travolta character, for reasons I don’t remember is forced to stay on Earth for a really long time and run the slave labor camp. He devises a plan to escape by training a human in all the practices of his alien culture and wisdom (which apparently consists of geometry). In a move no one could have predicted, the human uses his now superior intellect to lead a successful uprising.
- The humans in the movie alternate from speaking perfect English, being able to comprehend the Declaration of Independence and apply it to their current situation, and learning how to fly F-18 fighter jets after a single flight simulation, to acting like cavemen capable of only guttural moans. The difference is never explained, but that’s just part of the movie’s charm.
- On the other hand, the Psychlos’ language apparently consists of maniacal laughter and an accent that ranges from British to that character on The Simpsons who always says “Yessssssss!” And their beverage of choice is similar in look and color to radioactive ooze.
Click the image for video goodness.
There’s not much else to say. This movie is awful in almost every regard. There is nothing about it that would compel me to watch it again. No amount of weed, cocaine, sexual favors or chocolate covered raisins could get me to waste another two hours on this dreck.
Looks like King Aragorn from that movie with all the slow walking trees may join the rebooted Superman reboot. He may be cast as General Zod (Kneel!). We’re not sure how we feel about Viggo in a black jumpsuit, though. Could be sexy. Could look like he’s got tacos wrapped up in a chest sling. We’ll wait for the first stills.
We’ve long had a fascination with the plight of the werewolf. The whole concept of man turning into a large beast, well it’s the things of nightmares and really good movies. In my opinion there is nothing like seeing a really great werewolf transformation. It is the pinnacle of any movie featuring werewolves. We all wait to be awed by the technique. And we feel totally let down if the transformation doesn’t strike the right note of fear, shock, pain, and horror. I consider myself a werewolf purist in this regard. I can instantly tell when a transformation is going downhill. Mostly when you don’t see it happening. If a movie glosses over the transformation, then well, they’ve not done their movie and the genre service. If one minute there’s human and the next there’s wolf (especially a traditional quadruped wolf) then they’ve blown it.
Aside from any werewolf blasphemy, I love discovering a new entry worth its salt. The latest on my “super spectacular” wolf list is the UK version of Being Human. While the American version tries to stoke the same fires, it’s really the UK version that sails into respectable wolf genre territory. I’m halfway through the second season (So no one ruin the third season for me) and I’m pretty impressed so far with the wolf character “George” played by Russell Tovey. He strikes the right balance of fear, shame, and eventual acceptance of his curse. The horror and resignation is there, but also this sort of subtle charm that belies the real “monster” he can become. There is no CGI (Computer Generated Images) for the audience to lazily rely on. For a television show, an albeit gritty and no-holds barred television show, the graphic detail is phenomenal and the use of traditional special effects is impressive.
Werewolves in movies are not the sole interpretation of the likes of Stephenie Meyer and her bevy of non-shirted hunk-wolves. No, cinema and television have been the birthplace of the wolf for generations. And each new generation adds just a bit more to the lore to make a complete compendium of wolves from bipeds to quadrupeds, to full shifters to half shifters, to teenage wolves, wolves backpacking, girl wolves, boy wolves, middle aged wolves, medieval wolves, and King of Pop wolves — the curse runs the gamut.
But as we get even further into the 21st century the evolution of the werewolf is bound to take on even new shapes so to speak. Werewolves have often played second fiddle to their fellow monster brethren. Vampires have taken over the show, Zombies and their penchant for apocalypse have overshadowed the wolf, and aliens still manage to rake in movie dollars. The plight of the werewolf in modern times has been significantly reduced, mostly landing them in the B-movie category. Or shamefully worked into an overwrought period piece with not enough new elements to add to the genre, and relegating it to workable CGI (that they’ve built the whole movie on) and stunted acting from the stars of such film. See: Benicio Del Torro and Anthony Hopkins in a remake of The Wolfman. But I think the return of the wolf is coming, because just how many beautiful undead creatures can we really watch, and just how many chemical outbreaks can cause the Walking Dead? Somewhere, someone will establish a righteous ode to the moon cursed. And I’ll be waiting.
You stake your claim. Perhaps you put your jacket and handbag in the seat next to you, you know as a subtle indication that you don’t want the Johnstons and their trough of children, Gummi Bears, Slurpees, and loud-talking nonsense sitting right next to you. They won’t get the message. They never do. Nevertheless, you’re comfortable, you’ve leaned back in your reclined seat, and the armrest is all yours.
At the AMC theater’s Empire 25 location on West 42nd Street — you may recall this was the home of an infestation of bedbugs leading to the theater’s closing for fumigation — there were 15 heath violations. One of which was for “evidence of mice or live mice present in [the] facility’s food and/or non-food areas.” Yoikes! He also swabbed the “butter button.” You know that little contraption that’s used to spray butter on your popcorn, yeah well, that thing came back with “environmental organisms” with likely the presence of other, potentially harmful bacteria.
We’re currently 60 days into the New Year, and Justin Bieber’s movie Never Say Never is among the best reviewed movies of 2011 so far. Blitzkrieg by the Bieb! I’d like to say that if this is the best Hollywood can do, why even try? But honestly, you can’t blame the Biebs. His movie success is just the result of what seems like the laziest time in cinema history, ever. So much so, Nick Cage snuck in last week with a movie about a baby, a lady, and driving crazy, and it barely caused the gag reflex to flare. Seriously. It’s gotten to the point where Nick Cage can do that thing, with that thing on his head, and that permanent confused scowl on his face, and we shrug our shoulders because there are like fifteen similarly bad movies currently onscreen right now. There’s no reason to single out Nick Cage. And if you can’t single out Nick Cage then we’re mostly doomed. Don’t believe me? Take a gander at the current 
