Fox
Home Video | Review by Dan Taylor
The trailers started in the
summer of 1995. We were promised a summer
spectacle -- a STAR WARS for the 90s, if
such a thing is possible. Hype madness kicked
into overdrive, and seeing the White House
destroyed by aliens was the effect du jour.
By the time I slid into my
uncomfortable seat (strategically placed
in front of the lowest common denominator
moviegoer in existence) I'd become awash
in the aura surrounding the flick. Hell,
it had aliens, that Will Cosby... how could
the flick possibly go wrong?
Ummm, can I count the ways?
And no, that ain't no rhetorical question... I'm
not sure I can count that high. The bigger
question is where to start...
First,
I realize that there's a certain suspension
of disbelief associated with any cinematic
experience. Heck, Warner Bros. even played
on that by promising "You'll Believe
a Man Can Fly," in the pre-release
hype for SUPERMAN. And granted, the flick
is about an alien invasion that's
thwarted by a rag-tag band of freedom fighters
(can you say "STAR WARS?"). However,
while I'm willing to buy the flick's major
"invasion" plot thrust, I cannot,
will not, and never will buy the giant leaps
of logic and convenience piled on by the
filmmakers.
Okay, maybe I can buy the
whole "cable guy's ex-wife works for
the President" convenience. (Remember,
I said "maybe.") Am I also to
believe that in this enormous nation, the
hootchie girlfriend of the African-American
Luke Skywalker will just happen to rescue
the First Lady in time for her to die in
hubby's arms? And, that said hootchie would
put in just one more shift at the
Lap Dance Academy after flyboy tells her
to pack and bring her kid to the base he's
operating from?
Second, I know that the main
concept of any successful film is a two-step
process: a) create likable characters; b)
try to kill them. The aforementioned STAR
WARS did that, quite successfully, by introducing
all the major characters within the first
half-hour. However, their final roles within
the film weren't written on their foreheads
during the first screen appearance. Unlike,
say, Randy Quaid, Will Smith, Jeff Goldlum
and everyone else in the damn ID4 cast!
Dumbing it down for the audience is one
thing, but this is ridiculous!
Finally -- because I'm not
even going to discuss the hackneyed script
and the flick's inconsistent tone -- comes
the topic of the movie's female roles. Never
have I seen a film where somewhat strong
and independent (I've been trying to avoid
that word, but it does fit) women become
mere window-dressing for the "heroes."
Goldblum's ex, an adviser to the most powerful
person in the free world, becomes an afterthought
as he and Will Smith plan to defeat the
alien army. Smith's flame -- a single mother
doing her best to raise her son -- survives
the initial invasion, rescues the First
Lady and drives a big rig. Up till the point
she returns to his side. Once there her
role could be summed up as "Supportive
Chick for Hero to Come Home To." [Let
me state that I'm no bra-burning feminist,
but when I notice sexism like this, it must
be pretty damn bad!]
Ugh. What could have been
a fun-filled time-waster was just a waste
of my time. Frankly, I'd rather sit home
and watch STAR
WARS on laserdisc again. Oh, and why
-- in the name of all that's unholy -- does
this sucker clock in around two-and-a-half
friggin' hours? A pointless exercise.
