Again, done nothing, so as, erm, promised a "review" of Battlefield Earth....
Battlefield Earth
What was I thinking? Two minutes in, and I was already regretting it. Scenes that looked like they had been thrown out by Paul W.S Anderson after the mess of Soldier opened the film after a brief explanation about man being an endangered species, aliens, yadda, L. Ron Hubbard, Church of Scientology, kerching....
....no. A few more minutes in, and I couldn't believe I was still watching it, even ignoring a police siren outside, just waiting for something to happen. When something does happen, it sounds like the sound editor had left the boom mike in a large wicker basket - you can't hear anything properly. And its all been shot from funny angles and has really cack handed John Woo style repeat shots.
Kill me already.
I was about to switch off and erase it from the DVD, before Travolta turns up. Now, everyone else knew they were in a piece of turd and therefore were just not trying. Travolta comes on and hams it up with some odd method acting. The method being that there isn't one, he's just chewing the scenery so hard that later on a chimney falls down. Not to mention his hair extensions and stilts. For fucks sake, its like Halloween at Debonair.
Have I said how shit it is yet?
The special effects look like they've been done with crayola, and the script...what script? There isn't one! I'm sure this is just a really bad episode of Whose Line is it Anyway? and I'm expecting the fat faced no neck alien to reveal itself to be Clive Anderson if I get round to watching the final 70 minutes this weekend.
I'm not even going to bother with the story - its just turgid man vs profiteerring aliens bollocks.
No wonder Tom Cruise gets through so many famous girlfriends - each one a new recruit to recuperate the losses that this piece of crap was responsible for.
8.
Out of 100.
Battlefield Earth - Second Half
I just didn't bother. Why waste another 70 minutes of my already dwindling life. Whats that Mr. Travolta? You put your blood, sweat and tears into the project? Well fck me, and fck you. I had the chickens to feed.
Why bother? The first 50 minutes were so poor, that it was in danger of crashing into the train wreck that was Under Siege 2, and passing right through that into Police Academy: Mission to Moscow, which only scored a mark due to Claire Forlani's presence.
The words diabolical drek don't come easy, but in this case I was positively ejaculating them - something that everyone involved in this turgid pile of rancid whale jism is probably still doing right now. The fcknuggets. Just the thought of watching anymore of this exyended advert for scientology had the appeal of licking the sweat of Geoff Capes' particulary sweaty bollocks at the end of a World's Strongest Man contest - so sweaty in fact, that its turned into acid and burnt through the underpant lining in his unflattering shorts.
I couldn't bear to see Barry Pepper mong his way through his "ughs" and "mehs" anymore. I just didn't have the courage to see Forrest Whitaker "act" a billion times worse than he'd done as the world's dumbest psychic in "Species" (he was the one that when confronted with a grisly death scene who put his hand to his head and said "Something bad happened here". NO fucking SHIT SHERLOCK!).
I didn't want to see anymore of Roger "I was second unit director on Star Wars: Phantom Menace AND i won an Oscar for Set Decoration on Star Wars: A New Hope" Christian's cack handed direction. Was he fucking drunk? Everything was at a funny angle. I felt ill, and not just because it was piss poor.
No, I'd had enough and pressed delete harder than ever before.
I just hope that Tom Cruise doesn't pick up the reins and make the second half of the book.....
Battlefield Earth
What was I thinking? Two minutes in, and I was already regretting it. Scenes that looked like they had been thrown out by Paul W.S Anderson after the mess of Soldier opened the film after a brief explanation about man being an endangered species, aliens, yadda, L. Ron Hubbard, Church of Scientology, kerching....
....no. A few more minutes in, and I couldn't believe I was still watching it, even ignoring a police siren outside, just waiting for something to happen. When something does happen, it sounds like the sound editor had left the boom mike in a large wicker basket - you can't hear anything properly. And its all been shot from funny angles and has really cack handed John Woo style repeat shots.
Kill me already.
I was about to switch off and erase it from the DVD, before Travolta turns up. Now, everyone else knew they were in a piece of turd and therefore were just not trying. Travolta comes on and hams it up with some odd method acting. The method being that there isn't one, he's just chewing the scenery so hard that later on a chimney falls down. Not to mention his hair extensions and stilts. For fucks sake, its like Halloween at Debonair.
Have I said how shit it is yet?
The special effects look like they've been done with crayola, and the script...what script? There isn't one! I'm sure this is just a really bad episode of Whose Line is it Anyway? and I'm expecting the fat faced no neck alien to reveal itself to be Clive Anderson if I get round to watching the final 70 minutes this weekend.
I'm not even going to bother with the story - its just turgid man vs profiteerring aliens bollocks.
No wonder Tom Cruise gets through so many famous girlfriends - each one a new recruit to recuperate the losses that this piece of crap was responsible for.
8.
Out of 100.
Battlefield Earth - Second Half
I just didn't bother. Why waste another 70 minutes of my already dwindling life. Whats that Mr. Travolta? You put your blood, sweat and tears into the project? Well fck me, and fck you. I had the chickens to feed.
Why bother? The first 50 minutes were so poor, that it was in danger of crashing into the train wreck that was Under Siege 2, and passing right through that into Police Academy: Mission to Moscow, which only scored a mark due to Claire Forlani's presence.
The words diabolical drek don't come easy, but in this case I was positively ejaculating them - something that everyone involved in this turgid pile of rancid whale jism is probably still doing right now. The fcknuggets. Just the thought of watching anymore of this exyended advert for scientology had the appeal of licking the sweat of Geoff Capes' particulary sweaty bollocks at the end of a World's Strongest Man contest - so sweaty in fact, that its turned into acid and burnt through the underpant lining in his unflattering shorts.
I couldn't bear to see Barry Pepper mong his way through his "ughs" and "mehs" anymore. I just didn't have the courage to see Forrest Whitaker "act" a billion times worse than he'd done as the world's dumbest psychic in "Species" (he was the one that when confronted with a grisly death scene who put his hand to his head and said "Something bad happened here". NO fucking SHIT SHERLOCK!).
I didn't want to see anymore of Roger "I was second unit director on Star Wars: Phantom Menace AND i won an Oscar for Set Decoration on Star Wars: A New Hope" Christian's cack handed direction. Was he fucking drunk? Everything was at a funny angle. I felt ill, and not just because it was piss poor.
No, I'd had enough and pressed delete harder than ever before.
I just hope that Tom Cruise doesn't pick up the reins and make the second half of the book.....
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