This may be a guilty pleasure, but I also think it inherited an unfair reputation, too. George Lucas wanted to produce a comic film noir. No matter how well it was done, it would never be a huge hit. His name proved cancerous to the movie, unintentionally promising universal appeal for what is really a niche movie. The critics took their best shots and Howard the Duck went down as one of the most famous flops in movie history.
There’s precious little to keep you interested in this hideous-looking and busily boring shit-fest of a film that is both a nadir for director Tim Burton’s creative trajectory and emblematic of everything wrong with Hollywood in the early 21st century. Much muchness? Indeed. Alice in Wonderland is the cinematic equivalent of a priapism.
If you were making a movie based on a famous toy line and you had no choice but to cast Dolph Lundgren in the lead, you probably couldn’t do much better than Gary Goddard did with Masters of the Universe. The screenplay by David Odell (The Dark Crystal) transplants the action from He-Man’s homeworld to our own planet. I’m sure this was a cost-cutting measure more than anything else, but seeing these larger-than-life characters as fish out of water is probably one of the reasons this movie ends up cutting the mustard… barely.
Disney’s Frozen borrows ideas from Hans Christian Andersen’s The Snow Queen and follows closely in the footsteps of Tangled before it, but it’s also a bit more. For one thing, there’s an interesting sister dynamic at play here. One royal daughter, Anna (voiced by Kristen Bell), is the care-free sort, while the older daughter Elsa (Wicked‘s Idina Menzel) is born with a curse – the power to turn things into ice. After a childhood display of her magical powers nearly kills Anna, Elsa hides herself away for fear of hurting anyone. That’s all prelude. The story proper takes off when Anna inadvertently upsets Elsa on her coronation day. When the citizens of Arendelle discover their queen is a sorceress, they freak, she freaks, and a hard snow comes to fall. Elsa flees the kingdom and builds an ice castle for herself on the side of a mountain, leaving it up to little sister to later beg her for a return to warmer times.
For a movie that was no doubt jumping on the E.T. and Star Wars bandwagon, The Last Starfighter manages to carve a niche for itself. Teenager Alex Rogan (Lance Guest) wins the high score on a mysterious video game and is suddenly recruited by an alien to defend the universe from some cosmic bad asses. What counts here is charm. The Last Starfighter oozes with the stuff, and it’s not forced. I love the trailer court setting and the depiction of the tight-knit community that live there. Casting “The Music Man” himself, Robert Preston, as a charlatan recruitment officer named Centauri is a stroke of genius. You can’t help but love Preston, even when he’s peddling bullshit. Dan O’Herlihy also does a commendable job acting through heavy prosthetics as Grig, Alex’s lizard-like trainer and shipmate.
Ridley Scott (Blade Runner, Alien) directs this lavishly mounted fantasy film that’s high on style but low on action. The sets are jaw-dropping, whether it’s the huge, scintillating fairy forest or the fiery underground dungeons of hell. Makeup artist Rob Bottin (The Howling, The Thing) showcases some spectacular Oscar-nominated work. Just look at Tim Curry (The Rocky Horror Picture Show‘s Dr. Frank-N-Furter) as Darkness, in his head-to-toe prosthetic makeup, red skin, cloven hooves, and immense black horns. It’s one of the most breathtaking achievements in the history of movie makeup.
