Wednesday, January 28, 2009


SCIENTIFIC FACT LEARNED: The fate of the Earth lies in the product of Judd Nelson’s sperm.


Gigantic Shogun Warriors, sympathetic outer space boobies, obtuse but judgmental aliens, an unwanted but necessary Brat Pack reunion, the Chevy Suburbans of Doom, Soul-less Man, a teleporting key light, and the masterful direction of actor/auteur C. Thomas Howell (the “C” is for Cinema).

More details here.


A swarm of alien ships hurdles through space headed for Earth.


A giant robot hovers above downtown Los Angeles.


A hot naked chick wanders a forest free and easy.

Good … good!

C. Thomas Howell plays …

Ooo … Sorry, thanks for playing.

But I’m a trooper and I will persist.

A pair of aliens arrives on Earth with 666 giant robots known as Megaliths that station themselves at each major metropolitan area waiting for orders. But what they really do is look menacing and do nothing, thus keeping the budget below $150. So the aliens, one a hot cosmic stripper named Sky (Sinead McCafferty), and the other a doof the credits name “Man” (Bug Hall), walk around buck-naked in the wilderness outside Los Angeles. The Army descends upon the forest to hunt them down, and despite a display of electricity-harnessing power, they are captured with ease. Army dude Myron (C. Thomas Howell) takes pity on the aliens, in particular the hot broad and helps her escape Army headquarters/high school gym. L.A. is under siege and the giant robots have neutralized the power grid and rendered all vehicles powerless, thus marking the most productive day in the city’s history. The military launches nukes against the robot which prove as effective as a C. Thomas Howell directorial seminar. Sky informs Myron that she is here to assess Earth’s place in the universe, to judge our values, and appraise our worthiness for continued existence. She sees a kindred spirit in Myron, but unfortunately doesn’t take off her top. The clock is ticking to morning, when the robots will unleash a magnetic pulse that will cause the planet’s core to stop spinning and let loose chaos. While being chased around the city by agents and crazy people, Sky and Myron come across a man (Judd Nelson) and his pregnant wife who’s about to burst. Sky uses her alien power to help deliver the kid and keep the mother alive. She then realizes that Earthlings aren’t so easy to figure out, might be worth a damn, and spit up when shaken, so they race against time to stop the robots from destroying the planet, wiping out humanity, and keeping me awake.


The Day the Earth Stopped is the third in a trio (after Transmorphers and I Am Omega) of sci-fi films reviewed this month that were produced by The Asylum, the mockbuster-making studio of legend. This time the Asylum folks tackle the Keanu Reeves remake of The Day the Earth Stood Still, but the mimicry attempt ends after the opening titles. Taking a cue from the bigger-budgeted release, Stopped is a ponderous, tedious, and boring exercise in filling time. And much like Stood Still, the movie tries to be a serious contemplation of ideas that are over its head and probably mine too since I still don’t know why everyone was so solemn, serious, and exasperated about half the time. Obviously, Fox understood because they actually sued the studio over the release of this film just before Day the Earth Stood Still was able to bore audiences nationwide. Absent is the expressionless, vacant, and robotic Reeves and in his place is the expressionless, vacant, robotic, but great-racked McCafferty. Howell is terrible and doesn’t receive any help from his supporting players which looked plucked from The Asylum’s version of Central Casting, the local Walmart parking lot. Like most Asylum efforts, the movie suffers from lack of action, lots of talking, many driving/parking scenes, and effective but sparsely utilized special effects. Nelson, despite second billing, does a walk-on where he looks concerned about his baby, sweats a few beads, and pisses off. Chalk one future favor from C. Thomas to J. Udd. I’m told that watching paint dry is more exciting than Reeves’ unfortunate remake Stood Still, and Stopped doesn’t fare any better. Maybe Asylum should stop the mockbuster schtick and devote their $150 a film to original crap before I get hauled off to a real asylum.

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