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Published: TUESDAY, MAY 9, 2000
Sci-Fi Scientology: Battlefield Earth Is Not So Good
Do you have any Grey Poupon?
And you thought Mission to Mars was lousy -- wait until this stink bomb hits unsuspecting multiplexes all over the country. The movie's based on the best-selling novel by the late L. Ron Hubbard, who was more successful at suckering homosexually-inclined movie stars into his Scientology cult than as a sci-fi visionary, that's for sure.
"These nose chain things really suck." "Tell me about it."
Battlefield Earth begins in the year 3000, when Earth has been decimated by an alien race called Psychlos and man is an endangered species. Pockets of survivors live up in the mountains like cave people. One of them is the free-thinking rebel Johnnie Goodboy Tyler (long-haired Barry Pepper, who looks like he's auditioning for a bad Beastmaster sequel). Johnnie ventures out into the world, only to be rounded up and captured by the aliens and transported to a Human Processing Center housed under a dome in Denver. He and the other "Man-animals" are slaves to the evil Psychlos, forced to live in cages and eat a puke-green gruel that's served to them from a hose. Johnnie keeps trying to escape and comes in contact with the villainous Chief of Security, Terl (John Travolta, made up in fake monster hands, bad teeth, a high rubber forehead and massive dreadlocks that make him resemble an alien Charo), and his henchman Ker (Forest Whitaker, who looks like the Cowardly Lion if he joined a heavy metal band).
Can you tell which one is Kelly Preston?
Terl is pissed that he has to stay on this godforsaken planet and decides to illegally get some gold out of the mountains by training some of the slaves to mine. So he zaps Johnnie with a ray that enables him to understand the Psychlo language, and Johnnie acts dumb while garnering enough knowledge so he can secretly stage a rebel raid to win back the planet Earth. Lots of risible dialogue like "Johnnie, I always knew this was your destiny," and the prophetic "I will be the laughing stock of the universe" make you wish they'd revive Mystery Science Theater 3000 one last time. But for the most part it's excruciatingly boring and really crummy looking -- in that rust-colored, washed out, Waterworld way that directors (like Roger Christian) think looks futuristic. Mercifully, one of my faves, Richard Tyson (the hunk from Two Moon Junction) shows up as a rebel freedom fighter, baring his chest and shouting "piece of cake" a lot. This film seems unlikely to convert anyone to Diuretics, or whatever the hell it's called.
DENNIS DERMODY