Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Movie Review: Ghosts Of Mars

2/10

It is something of a running joke with me that three words in particular can send me running in terror from any theatre, those I saw on a Cornwall theatre box office noticeboard.

Those three terrifying words are;



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New



Musical.

Now I can say that the movie based equivalent of this rule of thumb is "John Carpenter's" - if ever there was a man whose very name was a testament to absent minded, brainless mediocrity it must be the erstwhile film-maker behind the classic Halloween and its first sequel, as well as more lovable than they are good romps like Escape From New York or Big Trouble In Little China.

It seems that at a point somewhere around 1990 Carpenter's mercurial talent finally dribbled away and led to such embarrassing, stillborn monuments to wasted budgets as "John Carpenter's Vampires" or this outrageous misfire.

For me, the title "Ghosts Of Mars" (originally "John Carpenter's Ghosts Of Mars", of course) conjures up a fascinating movie - a study, perhaps of mankind coming to terms with the guilt of violating the stasis of a dead world, perhaps making wondrous discoveries and seeking out a new meaning to their existence as they spread to the stars.

But then, of course, you read the cast list - Ice Cube, Natasha Henstridge, Pam Grier, Clea Duvall & Jason Statham are not the cast for a meaningful look into our souls.

In fact, I'm not sure any of them are capable of a meaningful look if their next straight to video release depended on it.

Let's get the story out of the way first. In the sort of move sci fi films take when exposition would be too much effort, we are front loaded with a lot of information regarding a colony set up on Mars - that "terraforming" is not yet finished (for non geeks, the practice of "terraforming" is the practice of rendering an uninhabitable planet, habitable) and that for no discernible reason, the society is Martiachal in nature, perhaps because of a surfeit of female actors being available, possibly to try and make a point. Whatever point they may have been trying to make, though, is hindered by the classic decision to have lots of homosexual female characters, and make poor old Statham randy as all hell - because naturally in a male-dominated society many authority figures are aggressively gay and women are always trying to talk men into having sex with them while working. Yeah.

In this world, a strange force has been unleashed that possesses the minds of people, turning them into savage, warlike maniacs - for the look, think Duran Duran's "Wild Boys" video with more blood - who chop off non-possessed people's heads and burn up the colonies of the "invaders".

So here's what the film is saying.

Er... nothing.

While it may become humanity to have a little respect and say "we're not the first people to have lived on this planet", why bother when you can have gunfights instead? You take a concept as lofty as "Ghosts Of Mars" and reduce it to a four set gunfight with lousy acting and hackneyed plot devices. The leads have little to no chemistry and the supporting cast are here for paycheques only.

Only Jason Statham, playing to type, comes out with any kind of credit, if only for sticking to his role faithfully and not being too hateful. Henstridge displays all of the emotional and dramatic range you would expect from the woman whose greatest role was as a sex obsessed alien in Species.

As for the action sequences, Bond in the 60s looked better - the grenade explosions here are depicted almost indentically to the classic "a bit of a bang and a guy bouncing off a trampoline" formula.

Plus it has Clea Duvall in it! She was in How To Make A Monster for christ's sake! And she's in most of this one! What the hell?

Many bad movies are destined to become cult classics. This is not one of them. If I can teach you anything, dear reader - it is to put this list in your "never watch" file.

Ouch. Anyone's career would take a hit if responsible for this - and John Carpenter has Vampires on his conscience too - maybe it's time to hang up the viewfinder, Johnno.

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