Einstein once said that insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. Applied to my viewing habits, it wills out. There are a handful of films I keep returning to, that I don't particularly love, but that have something that still draws me in, even if every damned time I am kicked in the nuts by disappointment. THE EXORCIST II, and George A. Romero's LAND OF THE DEAD are both prime examples. Understandable though, due to my relationship with the first EXORCIST film, and the zombie films of Romero's leading up to LAND, as to why I might keep on trying.
Then there is MARS ATTACKS. I guess it's my nostalgic love for Tim Burton? Or maybe, like Einstein suggests, I'm just bonkers.
An ensemble piece, starring everyone in the known universe, including Jack Nicholson, Rod Steiger, Glenn Close, Michael J. Fox, Martin Short, Jack Black, Natalie Portman, Pam Grier, Jim Brown, even singer Tom Jones, MARS ATTACKS, much like Spielberg's failed film, 1941, seems weighed down by the massive cast, rather than given a global and "huge epic" feel. Tim Burton also allows Jack Nicholson to fuck another film up. Letting Nicholson pick the music for his take on The Joker in their BATMAN film was laughably bad. Prince was so out of place, and the dunderheadedness of that choice when they had Danny Elfman sitting in a chair next to them, with an entire catalog of circus-sounding musical insanity in the form of his band OINGO BOINGO, is criminal. Here, with MARS ATTACKS he is allowed to do two characters, one the President of the United States, another some Las Vegas asshole with diamond rings and a cowboy hat, and truthfully, he doesn't do near enough with each for it to work. It's just halfway to confusing.
Bright spots are Annette Bening, whose flighty New Age-y washed up showgirl type brings some of the only unforced laughs, and the almost always brilliant Martin Short, who steals the film with his scene of being seduced by one of the Martian Attackers, who is disguised as a beautiful woman, and bringing them into the White House for a little naughty action.
Gladly, the design of the film took great care to bring the look of the notorious bubble gum card set that terrified kids initially (or rather, their parents, the kids seemed fine) over to the screen. Even some of the more infamous cards themselves found a place, like the pet dog being zapped by one of the creatures' ray guns.
These things always entice me to return, one more time, in search of something else to embrace, and increase my appreciation. Did I find anything new this time around? Not really. But the design aesthetic, a couple golden moments, and things like the Ray Harryhausen love that is so obvious here, and runs through the entire film, make it worth driving myself a little more crazy looking for a breakthrough, now and then.
- 5.5/10
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