Adam-Troy Castro

Writer of Science Fiction, Fantasy, Horror, and Stories About Yams.

 

Cosmic Lameness

Posted on August 30th, 2011 by Adam-Troy Castro

A Remake Chronicles Extra by Adam-Troy Castro

(originally published as a review on Scifiweekly; provided here as an appetizer as we put together the next column)

 

Here come the explorers from Earth, Boo-Boo. Let’s say Hi, Yogi

SAVAGE PLANET. Starring Sean Patrick Flanery, Roman Podhora, Reagan Pasternak, others. Directed by Paul Lynch. Written by Jeff Hare and Kevin Moore.

SAVAGE PLANET is so very cosmically lame a film that it seems a genuine waste of time to review it except as yet another specimen of a phenomenon we’ve observed many times in our years of exposure to really, really awful low-budget science fiction movies.

And that’s this: all too often, the more elaborate and promising the setup, the more half-assed the payoff.

We first noticed this in our youth, decades ago, with a notoriously awful movie named CHOSEN SURVIVORS (1974), in which the U.S. government gathers up a bunch of assorted people and locks them up in a silo somewhere, with the explanation that there’s about to be a nuclear war and that they’ve been picked by computer as the individuals best able to start a new civilization. Nice setup. Then they’re attacked by bats. Seriously. That’s what the rest of the movie is about. Bats. The end of the world, nuclear destruction, grieving civilians locked up against their will and forced to form a community they never wanted…and the very best the movie had to offer after that was … bats.

In past years this column has also reviewed such wonderments as THE DROP, in which a mysterious figure confronts a hapless young man with the cryptic words “Information is the key, and access is the goal.” Nice setup. Then all the characters spend the next hour and a half running circles around a parking garage. There was also CLIVE BARKER’S THE PLAGUE, in which the contagion of the title puts all of the world’s children into deathly comas; as we pointed out at that time, that was a nice setup too, which could have gone any number of interesting places, but all the movie had in mind was the tykes all sitting up and acting like zombies. Really. Zombies. Given the set-up, the imagination deficit is so extreme it feels like a medical condition.

You must now be really eager to find out all about the film under discussion today, which begins in the environmentally ravaged future and introduces us to a group of mission specialists in the employ of corporate shark James Carlson (Podhora). Earth is dying. Many cities around the world are suffering riots due to gas-mask shortages. The only hope is finding a new planet for the resettlement of Mankind. Fortunately, Carlson has developed a means of long-distance teleportation, and is ready to mount an expedition to Oxygen, the first successfully terraformed alien world.

There are, of course, hints that he has an agenda he isn’t sharing. But that’s okay. Even without that we have a vital mission of mapping and exploration, with tremendous stakes.

Nice setup, right?

Or so you would think, until his explorers teleport to Oxygen and are almost  immediately…

…(wait for it)…

…attacked by bears.

No, I’m not kidding.

Honest to Betsy. That’s what the movie’s about.  That’s all it has in mind.  A group of interplanetary travelers, seeking salvation for all humanity, get picked off, one at a time, by bears.

True, we’re told many times that these are very large, very intelligent, very dangerous bears, unlike any human beings have ever seen, but we’re asked to take that on faith, because they’re played by ordinary bears, and they don’t do anything but stand on their hind legs, swipe at the air and make bear noises. From time to time, our heroines scream and our heroes fire their assault weapons and we get another close-up of a bear saying, “Woougaaaaghhh,” and what happens is, either another evil alien bear goes down dead or the cast of not very interesting people is reduced by one. Killed By A Bear. Though that is something else we have to take on faith, since we almost never see the bears and the human beings in the same shot except in extreme close-ups where screaming people are outfought by rugs and taxidermy.

Even the living bears are not all that impressive. There was a great bear performer named Bart who appeared in about a dozen films, typecast as The Bear; and he was an absolutely terrific Bear, even when the movies around him were not all that great. (You can find him in THE EDGE and THE BEAR. He presented at the Oscars one year, and his son Bart the Bear II appeared on THE AMAZING RACE.  I am not making this up.) Bart was also pretty overweight, a chronic problem for domesticated Bears who don’t get all the exercise their kind would find in the wild. The best of the movies featuring him managed to hide this and make him look magnificent. This movie features several close-ups of chubby bear asses, waddling back into the woods in no particular hurry and with no sense of menace. These are, in short, Bears from Central Casting. Alien bears from Central Casting. Ooooh. Bears. Even more scary than goats.

All of this is filmed in a nice, sunny forest about as clearly terrestrial as any you could imagine. There are meadows and ferns and nice splashes of green. It’s a sunny place. It must have been pleasant at midday, when the shooting was done for the morning and the cast and crew was able to spread blankets on the grass, for picnic lunches. This is not exactly conducive to suspense. Seriously, you know how good thrillers make you forget that cameras are present and that the actors are just reciting lines written for them? It’s impossible to forget that for even ten seconds, here. Once our heroes reach their destination, there’s not a single location, not a single shot, not a single second, where anybody on this supposedly alien world looks like they’re more than a fifteen minute ride from a Motel Six. These people are not filming a movie about interstellar explorers fighting a monstrous alien environment. They’re filming a tampon commercial.

The result is a lot like what ALIEN would have been like had Ridley Scott filmed it in the park at Three O’Clock in the afternoon. Except not as interesting.

Old Rose Was Stupid And Evil

Posted on August 25th, 2011 by Adam-Troy Castro

A Remake Chronicles Extra by Adam-Troy Castro

I don’t hate James Cameron’s TITANIC as much as it’s currently fashionable to — I have problems with it, but among other things, it captures the epic chaos and terror of that night perfectly well, thank you — but I have always despised the final scene where Old Rose hobbles to the railing of the salvage ship and gleefully tosses the necklace into the sea.

This is a fine grand dramatic gesture if you don’t bother to think about it for so much as thirty seconds.

But in fact it’s a profoundly selfish moment, one that makes me want to slap the old woman.

To start with: her entire motive in undertaking the arduous journey back to the North Atlantic, and telling Bill Pullman’s researchers her story, is making sure Leonardo DeCaprio’s Jack is remembered. There is no real record of his existence, no indication that her story is true. She tells the story with such passion that the researchers end up believing her, but others won’t; her possession of the necklace is the ONLY PROOF that she was on the Titanic, and that everything she has said is true. By tossing it over the side she completely destroys any possibility that Jack’s story will be re-told and believed, and that what she sees as his heroism will be remembered by a new generation. A profoundly selfish and self-destructive moment.

Secondly: what about her granddaughter? A robust, attractive woman in her thirties, perhaps forties, who has given up much of her daily life to be her caregiver? Isn’t that, in its own way, just as grand a love story? Doesn’t that deserve a tribute? Wouldn’t it have served her granddaughter to now produce the jewel, hand it over, and request whatever finder’s fee the researchers might be willing to provide, even if it’s only the operating expenses that ship spends on a single day, to set up the granddaughter when old Rose is finally gone?

My logical problem with the last flashback of TITANIC — young Rose finding the necklace in her pocket — has always been that, since her continued possession of it proves that she didn’t sell it, she arrived in America operationally penniless, and without an identity she could reveal, and therefore would have been immediately deported from America as so many TITANIC steerage widows and orphans again. I justify this in my mind by remembering that evil Cal also stuffed the pockets of that coat with bundles of cash, and that she therefore arrived in America as the equivalent of a multi-millionaire in today’s terms, well able to afford the life of adventure we know she had. (I only wish that the movie had re-established the cash as well, to clarify this for viewers who want to know how she avoided ending up on the streets, selling herself.) But that’s ultimately acceptable, as the answer is in the film, just not sufficiently stressed. Tossing the necklace, on the other hand…is stupid and evil.

What Is That Guy’s Major Malfunction, Anyway?

Posted on August 23rd, 2011 by Adam-Troy Castro

Available til Sunday: this essay on just why J. Jonah Jameson Can’t Ditch His Hate For Spider-Man.

 
 
 

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