Bombs away: Travolta's 'Battlefield' is so bad it's not even funny

By Joe Baltake Bee Movie Critic (Published May 12, 2000)

One of the questions most asked of movie critics is, "Have you ever walked out of a movie?"

"Nah," I usually reply. "Sitting there is actually the easiest part of the job. Trying to write about certain films is what can be difficult."

Well, I take that back. Sitting through the summer's first monolithic monstrosity, "Battlefield Earth," was one of the most painfully excruciating experiences of my life. This film, which is actually being touted as star John Travolta's "pet project," is the "Plan 9 from Outer Space" of the new millennium. It's the film that the infamous Edward D. Wood Jr. might have made if he had been handed $100 million. Actually, Ed Wood would have done a better job.

The credited director here is Roger Christian. I've used the modifier "credited" because there is no indication on screen that anyone was really in charge of "Battlefield Earth." Christian once assisted George Lucas on some of the "Star Wars" films and went on to direct such titles as "The Sender," "Underworld" and "Masterminds," which, if you're interested, I'm sure you can find in some discount video bin. None of this, however, prepared him for this dubious venture. Christian was clearly overwhelmed by feeble, unfilmable material that, in turn, leaves the viewer ... underwhelmed.

The most positive observation that can be made about "Battlefield Earth" is that it plays as unintended camp -- which is actually less fun than it sounds. It's the usual B movie that's been given lavish A-movie trimmings and, while it is all highly disposable, it can't be ignored because of what it means to the movie industry. Some very important studio executives were paid a lot to give it the green light.

The year is 3000 and an opening title tells us that mankind has been enslaved -- by 9-foot-tall aliens who call themselves the Psychlos (as in psychotic, get it?).

Travolta, made up with bad teeth, dreadlocks, contacts to make his eyes look vacant and rubber tubing dangling from his nose like a big, nasty booger, is Terl, who with his smelly looking partner Ker (Forest Whitaker, made up to resemble the Cowardly Lion from "The Wizard of Oz"), is in charge of security on an Earth that has been devastated.

The Psychlos run the place like a bad company, with Terl tossing out expressions like "home office," "the corporation" and "junior executive." Already bad news, Terl gets worse when he is essentially cheated out of a big promotion and forced to remain security chief, a job he hates. So he gets greedy and decides to steal a lot of gold, betraying Ker if he has to and using enslaved men for his own dire purposes.

The good guy here -- a human, natch -- is played by Barry Pepper, who has got to be one of the weirdest screen heroes foisted on a modern movie audience. Pepper, who had supporting roles in two Tom Hanks movies ("Saving Private Ryan" and "The Green Mile"), is as ill-prepared for the task as Christian is.

"Battlefield Earth" is based on a 1,000-page, 1982 book written by L. Ron Hubbard, the founder of the Church of Scientology, and Travolta is one of the best-known Scientologists. Skeptics have been afraid that Travolta and his crew would use the film version as some kind of propaganda, full of subliminal messages. No such luck. At least a little subversive action might have lifted the film.

But the only pertinent question is, will it be a hit? Perusing other reviews on the newspaper wire, I noticed that Roger Ebert, usually known for his generosity, gave the film one-half of a star, while other critics have noted heckles and derisive laughter at screenings. Here in Sacramento, the audience was attentive, cheered occasionally, applauded, but didn't laugh.

So who knows?

Unfortunately, despite its cheesy matte work, all-too-obvious scale models and unspecial effects, "Battlefield Earth" will probably go on to be this weekend's big box-office champ -- but only by default. It has no formidable competition in the movie marketplace this weekend. The other two big studio films, Columbia's "Center Stage" and Universal's "Screwed" (which has been kept carefully hidden from film critics), certainly pose no threat.

Another question popularly asked of critics is, "Do you ever resent it when a film you dislike makes a lot of money?"

In this case ... absolutely.