2001: Freddy Got Fingered.

Gord (Tom Green) disrupts a fancy restaurant with his antics.

Release Date: Apr. 20, 2001. Running Time: 87 minutes. Screenplay: Tom Green, Derek Harvie. Producer: Larry Brezner, Howard Lapides, Lauren Lloyd. Director: Tom Green.


THE PLOT:

Gordon Brody (Tom Green) wants to be a cartoonist. He takes a job in Los Angeles making prepackaged cheese sandwiches, all so that he can be in the right location to pitch his concepts for an animated television series.

He manages to bluff his way into meeting animation studio CEO Dave Davidson (Anthony Michael Hall). Davidson sees right through him... but he also seems legitimately impressed at Gord's sheer gumption, enough to look at his drawings and determine that he has talent. The exec gives him two pieces of advice: To "get inside the animals" to come up with a concept that's actually funny; and to quit the sandwich job to focus on his drawings full time.

So Gord returns home to Portland, Oregon - much to the disgust of his father (Rip Torn). Gord meets and somehow strikes up a relationship with Betty (Marisa Coughlan), a gorgeous wheelchair-bound nurse with dreams of her own. Meanwhile, tensions between Gord and his father continue to build, leading to Gord using his more responsible (and employed) brother, Freddy (Eddie Kaye Thomas), as the centerpiece of a particularly vicious lie!

And I suspect this plot summary makes the story sound a lot more coherent than it actually plays...

Gord's father, Jim (Rip Torn) is appalled by his son. Which would be
relatable, except that Jim is also a pretty terrible human being.

CHARACTERS:

Gord: An immature, jobless loser who achieves his dreams in spite of... well, everything about him. There are clear similarities with Adam Sandler's characters of this period - except that Sandler's alter egos were generally presented as decent people underneath the surface childishness, while Gord is mostly horrible to anyone unfortunate enough to be in his general vicinity. Physical injuries follow in his wake like rats following the Pied Piper; and attempts to show a softer side via his relationship with Betty don't make him more likeable, mainly because he goes right back to being crass and destructive. His lie involving Freddy is so despicable that it would mark the moment I was done with him... except we had already passed me being done with him at least a half hour before that point.

Jim: Given how much I dislike Gord, I should be on the side of his father, Jim (Rip Torn). Jim's not wrong in disdaining Gord's refusal to get any kind of job, and his disgust with Gord's antics is well earned. There's only one problem: Jim is also a terrible person. When he meets Betty, he responds not with amazement that his unemployed, loser son managed to score a beautiful (and gainfully employed) girlfriend. Nope, Jim instead is vile as he mocks her for her disability.

Freddy: Really, I think Gord's whole family is a write-off. Freddy is more responsible than Gord, having his own place and a job at a bank. He's smug about it, too, smirking as he takes in Gord's failures. He's so smug that I doubt any viewer would mind him getting a minor comeuppance, some embarrassment that might cost him the job he's so proud of. Instead, he gets punished in a disproportionate (and utterly implausible) way.

Betty: Marisa Coughlan is an immediately appealing screen presence. Too bad, then, that Betty quickly gets reduced to a running gag centered around an oral sex fixation. Frankly, her journey - from disabled young woman to nurse to inventor - has the makings of a much better and more watchable film plot than Gord and his antics.

Julie: Airplane!'s Julie Hagerty is Gord's mother. Julie indulges her son, seeming to instinctively side with him against Jim at every turn. My head canon is that decades of marriage to the horrible Jim has left her secretly despising him. Hagerty doesn't get much to do; as bad as Tom Green is at writing for his male characters, his script is even worse with the female characters. Still, Hagerty remains gorgeous, and I got a mild chuckle out of her end-of-film circumstances.

Dave Davidson: Anthony Michael Hall gives one of the few good performances as the studio exec. Dave reacts surprisingly well to Gord dressing up (ineptly) as a cop to pitch his cartoon. He actually looks at the drawings and gives good (if almost instantly misinterpreted) advice. It's the opposite of what you'd expect from this type of character, and this well-scripted moment is one of a couple of decent early scenes that may lull some viewers into a false sense of security.

Gord takes the advice to "get inside the animals" a bit too literally.
The bit is stupid and gross, but I have to admit that it made me laugh.

"SAY SOMETHING NICE":

After quitting his sandwich job, Gord drives back to Portland and comes across a dead deer in the road. This prompts one of several infamous scenes, as he recalls Davidson's advice to "get inside the animals" and takes it way too literally, skinning the dead deer before running around in its hide.

Plenty of viewers were offended, and the scene is in poor taste (as is the whole movie). The difference between the rest of the movie and the deer bit, though, is that I actually laughed. Director Tom Green mixes in reactions shots from other animals as they look on in apparent shock and bewilderment. The scene is backed by The New Seekers' I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing, which is about the most purely wholesome sounding song not to be performed by Julie Andrews. The combination of elements - Gord's insane behavior, the other animals watching, and the song - combine in a way that actually worked for me.

It's just too bad that I can't say the same for the rest of the movie...

Gord with his beautiful, wheelchair-bound girlfriend, Betty (Marisa Coughlan).

OTHER MUSINGS:

I have never seen The Tom Green Show. Based on what I've read, the humor for Green's television show arose not so much from him doing weird and obnoxious things as from the reactions of the people around him. Kind of like Borat, only minus the Middle Eastern cosplay.

Freddy Got Fingered does not follow that template at all. There are no non-actors, and there are no unscripted, undirected reactions. Come to think of it, there aren't that many reactions at all. Even when Gord is in public places, such as on a date with Betty in a fancy restaurant roughly halfway in, the focus of the scene is never on the surrounding people but on Gord himself.

Like a fair few of the films in this review series, Freddy Got Fingered has attracted a small but persistent following - but I'm going to side with the majority of contemporary critics who found this to be an inept endurance test.

There's a fair bit of physical comedy, but it's mostly not well staged. There's a running joke, involving escalating injuries to a small child, that should appeal to the more warped side of my sense of humor. If this was a Mel Brooks film, or a Zucker-Abrahams-Zucker, the horrors visited on this innocent tyke would probably have had me in stitches. But Green just doesn't do anything creative with the gag.

The kid appears in the background of a scene, at which point it's just a waiting game to him getting injured. I can picture Brooks, after establishing the joke, have the kid avoid a few calamities in one scene, only to fall victim to something just as the audience had decided that he was safe. ZAZ would probably have some elaborate staging of the tyke's misfortunes. With Green, the scenes play out and the injuries just happen, with no twists, no build, and no clever staging. Both the first and final times, the boy literally runs into calamity, with Gord not even doing anything to cause it. Something that might have been darkly amusing therefore ends up being mostly boring - and given the final shot, "boring" should have been impossible.

That's pretty much the whole movie. It's less a story than a collection of loosely connected skits that ping-pong between gross-out moments and dull would-be gags. Just like the scenes with the ill-fated child, the conflict between Gord and his father doesn't build. There's no sense of a battle of wills that's building to an explosion. Instead, it's just scene after scene of them being horrible to each other, until suddenly Gord tells his lie. Then Gord gets a final act of revenge that might have been amusing if Gord hadn't already become the more terrible of these two people, with a tacked-on reconciliation that doesn't convince even within the context of this thin script.

Freddy Got Fingered ends up being dull, irritating, and almost entirely unfunny. At least Battlefield Earth made me laugh, albeit without intending to.

Gord's cartoon triumph: Zebras in America.

THE OTHER NOMINEES:

I've seen all but one of the 2001 Razzie nominees... which is unfortunate, as these movies are a pretty bad lot:

Driven was Sylvester Stallone's attempt to do for car racing what Rocky had done for boxing. The result plays like a bad ripoff of Tom Cruise's already less-than-stellar Days of Thunder. Even by the standards of Stallone's late '90s/early 2000s career, this was a low point. Parts of it are so inept as to be funny, however, which is enough for me to rate it above Freddy Got Fingered.

Glitter was Mariah Carey's attempt to translate her music stardom into movie stardom. This is the only one of 2001's nominees that I didn't see, but reviews were scathing and Carey ended up winning the Razzie for Worst Actress. Not only did the movie bomb - even the soundtrack underperformed compared to her other albums.

Pearl Harbor saw action director Michael Bay attempt to make a serious film, setting a love story against the backdrop of the attack on Pearl Harbor. You know, like From Here to Eternity, only with an entirely surface-level script. The characters are shallow, and the actors lack chemistry. Even the attack scenes, which are well-shot, don't feel as convincing as those in 1970's Tora! Tora! Tora! Oh, and it's three hours long. From Here to Eternity did a lot more with an hour's less running time.

3000 Miles to Graceland actually sounds fun on paper: A group of thieves dress up as Elvis impersonators to rob a casino. The two leads are decent, with Kevin Costner having fun as a psychopath and Kurt Russell managing to be just likable enough as the antihero. But the story is tedious and predictable; and despite a $47 million budget (quite reasonable, by 2001 standards), it looks cheap. It's not as hilariously inept as Driven, and it's shorter than Pearl Harbor, but it's still bad.

So... A pretty poor bunch of movies, any of which might have clinched the award in a better year. But I'm going to have to agree with the Razzies' assessment this time: Out of the four I've seen, Freddy Got Fingered is the worst of them.

Gord and his father, after the most elaborate of Gord's pranks.

OVERALL:

"Offensive" isn't necessarily a problem for comedy. "Unfunny," however, is, and Freddy Got Fingered is almost impressively unfunny. There are a couple of decent moments early on, and I genuinely laughed at the deer scene. All of that's in the first 15 minutes, though, after which almost nothing even raised a chuckle from me.

The characters are unlikable. The protagonist is inconsistent, veering between being despicable in one scene, seemingly in need of psychological help in the next, and then becoming bizarrely prudish with his girlfriend. Gags that, on paper, sound potentially amusing are so poorly staged that they don't so much land as flop.

At least it's short. Even at 87 minutes, though, this movie is a chore to sit through. I'd rank it down there with Ghosts Can't Do It as being among the very worst Razzie winners.


Rating: Flushable Wipe (Used). Though I shudder to think about what Gord might do with said wipe.

Worst Picture - 2000: Battlefield Earth
Worst Picture - 2001: Swept Away (not yet reviewed)

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2000: Battlefield Earth.

Alien overlord Terl (John Travolta) holds a gun on human prisoner Jonnie (Barry Pepper).

Release Date: May 10, 2000. Running Time: 117 minutes. Screenplay: Corey Mandell, J. D. Shapiro. Based on the novel by: L. Ron Hubbard. Producer: Jonathan Krane, Elie Samaha, John Travolta. Director: Roger Christian.


THE PLOT:

In the year 3000, humanity is on the verge of extinction, having regressed into isolated camps of primitive tribes. Jonnie (Barry Pepper) clashes with his tribe, wanting to move beyond their meager hunting grounds - something the elder refuses because it could draw the attention of the "demons." Jonnie scoffs, refusing to believe in such superstition, and goes off on his own - only to end up captured by the very demons he didn't believe in.

The "demons" are actually Psychlos, aliens who conquered Earth long ago. That battle lasted only nine minutes, Earth's defenses no match for the aliens' technology. Now the Psychlos are strip-mining the planet for its gold and using the surviving humans as slave labor. Their security chief, Terl (John Travolta), is weary of Earth and the "man-animals" that infest it. Unfortunately for him, he offended an influential senator, and his assignment to this primitive backwater is his punishment.

Seeing Jonnie's resourcefulness in the form of multiple escape attempts, Terl comes up with a plan. He will secretly train Jonnie and other "man-animals" to use mining tools, allowing them to extract gold that radiation would otherwise make permanently inaccessible. This violates Psychlo law, but that's no barrier - With some judiciously arranged evidence, Terl can make sure that any consequences fall anywhere but on him. With that gold, he will be able to buy his way back to his home planet.

Jonnie eagerly accepts every bit of training he's given. All the while, he hatches a plan of his own - to use the knowledge Terl is forcing on him not merely to escape, but to take Earth back from its alien overlords!

Terl gives Jonnie a flying lesson, presumably to make it easier for Jonnie to stage a rebellion.

CHARACTERS:

Terl: "While you were still learning how to spell your name, I was being trained to conquer galaxies!" Terl repeatedly rants to his subordinate, Ker, about how he ranked at the top of the Academy. Me? I suspect Terl was named "#1 Dunce" and didn't comprehend the sarcasm, because he doesn't do one intelligent thing the entire length of the movie. His grand plan involves training humans to mine - which for some reason entails educating Jonnie about everything from geometry to human history, giving the human everything he needs to successfully rebel. I suppose just teaching the use of mining tools would have been too complicated. John Travolta gives the same performance he always trots out when playing the bad guy: screaming while contorting his face and gesticulating wildly. Oh, and he and the other Psychlos cackle so constantly that I started to wonder what was in the colored goo they all drink.

Jonnie Goodboy Tyler: At least Travolta shows some emotion. Barry Pepper, as Jonnie Goodboy Tyler (yes, that's the character's name, though I don't think he's ever called anything but "Jonnie"), mostly assumes the same expression throughout, one that would be best described as "vacant stare." I've seen Pepper give decent performances, as in Saving Private Ryan and HBO's 61. Maybe he was trying to underplay to create contrast with the Psychlos? Or perhaps he was just told not to actually act lest he steal focus from star/co-producer John Travolta.

Ker: Terl is an idiot with a certain base cunning; Ker, his deputy, is just an idiot, to such a point that it's remarkable that his brain can process the power of speech. His job in the story is to listen as Terl rants exposition and to join Terl in his frequent maniacal laughs - Oh, and to be on hand if his boss needs a patsy. Forest Whitaker gives what may be the only bad performance I've ever seen from him. Half of his scenes see him cackling along with Terl. The rest of the time, he just sort of stares off into space, looking as if he'd rather be anywhere but in front of director Roger Christian's constantly tilted cameras. To the surprise of no one, he would later express regret for doing this movie.

Carlo: Prolific Canadian character actor Kim Coates plays Jonnie's right-hand man, whose purpose is to provide someone for Jonnie to describe his plan to. Through some well-judged reactions and facial expressions, Coates manages to invest this cipher with the illusion of a personality. As a result, he's the one performer to escape this mess with dignity intact.

Chrissy: Sabine Karsenti is Jonnie's girlfriend, who may as well just be named "Girl." She has a critical role in the story: To get captured, so that Terl can use her as leverage against Jonnie. I'm guessing that if a sequel had been made, she would have ended up filling the other time-honored roles for women in bad sci-fi: first getting pregnant and then getting fridged.

Chirk: Kelly Preston supports hubby John Travolta's vanity project by popping up for a cameo as a Psychlo femme fatale used by Terl to gain leverage against a rival. Preston actually does fine with what little she's given - far better, I would say, than Travolta does with his very large part. I certainly don't see anything in her performance to merit her Razzie for Worst Supporting Actress.

Jonnie, inside the ruins of a library.

"SAY SOMETHING NICE":

Battlefield Earth is bad, to put it mildly. Still, every so often, I caught a glimpse of an idea that could have been interesting. Nothing in this is in any way original, from the tribes of primitive humans in a post-Apocalyptic wasteland to the alien society that's built around corporate profits. Still, there was some potential in these aspects of the story, had the film simply picked one or two of those elements to develop. As it stands, any moment with potential is gone in the film's mad rush to fit in the next thing - but those moments can be glimpsed just often enough to imagine a version of this that might have been halfway decent.


"SO... WHAT WERE THEY ON?"

Rarely has such a big budget movie been so ineptly made. Just about every shot uses an exaggerated Dutch angle, even for basic dialogue scenes. Every scene features ridiculously frenetic editing, with shots of characters quick-cutting to slightly closer shots of the same characters and then back again for no readily apparent reason. I think director Roger Christian is trying to make it visually exciting, to imbue the silly script with an epic quality. But the tilted angles just accentuate the silliness, and the combination of that with the editing and the severe color grading makes it unpleasant to watch on a basic sensory level.

Terl and his deputy, Ker (Forest Whitaker), laugh maniacally. There's a lot of this.

OTHER MUSINGS:

For its first half, I was kind of enjoying Battlefield Earth in the same way I can enjoy Plan 9 from Outer Space or the Star Trek episode, Spock's Brain. Everything is wrong with this movie. For a while though, it's so wrong and wrong in just the right ways to be accidentally funny, particularly as John Travolta swaggers around sneering about "man-animals" while cackling like a loon.

Then the plot kicks into gear. This turns out to be a bad thing, as the back half is not only stupid, but also labored.

There's a blinkered energy to the first half, the script seeming desperate to jam in any set piece the writers could come up with. Jonnie makes no less than three escape attempts, only one of which is needed to advance the plot. He fights for dominance against another prisoner, which doesn't lead to anything. I doubt even the writers could explain the purpose of a scene in which Terl lets Jonnie go in order to determine what his favorite food is. But all of this zips along, the barrage of idiocy coming too fast for it to become boring.

The fun stops when the story takes over. It remains stupid, but it also becomes mechanical. Most of the screen time is devoted to establishing what the humans will use in their rebellion. Jonnie somehow has free reign to travel around the entire continental U. S., allowing him to find gold bars in Fort Knox and fighter planes at Fort Hood. Those fighters are in perfect working order, with neither the planes themselves nor the jet fuel (!) having decayed over centuries. Oh, and there's a flight simulator, which is all the explanation needed for how people who don't understand glass can learn how to fly like combat veterans (offscreen - there isn't even a cheesy training montage).

The final battle. Good luck following any of it.

The final battle is poorly staged, with the ugly visuals and hyperactive editing making it impossible to tell what's going on. There's a lot of shooting, some explosions, and lots of people running around while glass explodes. To the script's credit, Jonnie's plan does encounter complications a couple of times. To the script's discredit, these complications are resolved in jaw-droppingly stupid ways. The worst of these: a frustrated Terl inexplicably smashes the very button Jonnie needs to press. Because, as established, Terl is an idiot with zero impulse control.

On the plus side, Battlefield Earth has something lacking in too many films designed to start a franchise: It has an ending. Even though a sequel was intended, the resolution is sufficient that anyone who was somehow invested in the story will come away satisfied. The movie may be inept and idiotic, but at least it feels complete.

The Psychlos hold Jonnie's girlfriend (Sabine Karsenti) hostage. Because of course they do.

THE OTHER NOMINEES:

2000 is one of those rare cases in which I've seen none of the Razzie-nominated movies. I doubt any of them is worse than Battlefield Earth, though in fairness they all sound pretty bad:

Book of Shadows - Blair Witch 2: How do you follow up a surprise hit that popularized the found footage horror genre? Apparently, by making a film with no connection to the first, and by hiring a documentary director to make what isn't a found footage film. Oh, and there was studio interference in the edit, which always goes so well.

The Flintstones in Viva Rock Vegas: I already found the 1994 Flintstones to be pretty bad, but it was a financial hit. Enough of a hit that Universal was undeterred when star John Goodman had no interest in making a sequel. The solution? Make a prequel, with younger versions of the characters! The movie bombed hard, which thankfully put an end to future live action Flintstones projects.

Little Nicky: Adam Sandler finally ended his run of hits with this alleged comedy in which he plays the son of the devil. Reviews were horrible, but that was nothing new for Sandler. This time, though, he failed to even please his fans, with the movie only making back a little over half of its production budget.

The Next Best Thing: Madonna returns to the Razzies with this drama, in which she has a child with her gay best friend (Rupert Everett), culminating in a custody battle. Director John Schlesinger reportedly found Madonna impossible to work with, even going so far as to partially blame her diva-like behavior for his 1999 heart attack. Sadly, this ended up being his last movie, an unworthy end to a long career.

Jonnie tricks Terl. Which isn't hard, because Terl is an idiot.

OVERALL:

Battlefield Earth is almost worth watching for the insane incompetence of it. Absolutely everything is bad: costumes, dialogue, color grade, camera angles, performances. John Travolta overacts; Barry Pepper barely acts; and Forest Whitaker looks like he's rethinking his life choices.

For a while, it almost works as a "so-bad-it's-good" title. But the second half settles down to focusing on the story, at which point all the fun drains away. What remains is a poorly made mess that ends with a horribly shot and edited action set piece. The second half is not merely boring, it's positively numbing, with it all but impossible to tell what's going on during the big climax.


Rating: Turkey.

Worst Picture - 1999: Wild Wild West
Worst Picture - 2001: Freddy Got Fingered

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1999: Wild Wild West.

Hate at first sight: Army captain Jim West (Will Smith)
meets U. S. Marshal Artemus Gordon (Kevin Kline).

Release Date: June 30, 1999. Running Time: 106 minutes. Screenplay: S. S. Wilson, Brent Maddock, Jeffrey Price, Peter S. Seaman. Producer: Jon Peters, Barry Sonnenfeld. Director: Barry Sonnenfeld.


THE PLOT:

The year is 1869, and Captain Jim West (Will Smith) and U. S. Marshal Artemus Gordon (Kevin Kline) are both individually on the trail of former Confederate General "Bloodbath" McGrath (Ted Levine), who is suspected in the disappearances of several top scientists. Both men come close to capturing him, only to end up getting in each other's way - with each blaming the other for the botched operation. President Ulysses S. Grant has a solution: He orders them to work together to find McGrath and the scientists.

The evidence leads to a Louisiana plantation house that is hosting former Confederates and foreign dignitaries. There, they rescue Rita Escobar (Salma Hayek), daughter of one of the missing scientists. They also discover that McGrath is working for Arliss Loveless (Kenneth Branagh), an engineering genius believed to have been killed in the Civil War.

Loveless has a plan to take over the country, to make "the United, divided." It falls to West and Gordon to stop him - that is, if they can stop bickering for long enough to focus on their enemy!

West and Gordon are captured. Naturally, they blame each other.

CHARACTERS:

Jim West: Entirely unlike his counterpart from the 1960s television show, this movie's West uses violence as a first resort. He's resourceful in the moment, but he never stops to think before acting. There are indications that he's haunted by his past. All of this might have made for an interesting lead character... except that, in star Will Smith's hands, West is largely shown to be fast talking, charismatic, and wisecracking. Basically, instead of the character we're told that he is, what we get is... late 1990s Will Smith.

Artemus Gordon: At least Gordon is recognizable as the same character from the show, albeit much sillier. In contrast to West, he is a meticulous planner. He considers violence to be a failure of imagination, preferring to use disguises and inventions to achieve his goals. West's tactics aren't just the opposite of his - They actively offend him, leading to him repeatedly stating that West is an idiot. While Will Smith falls back a bit too much on his late 1990s persona, Kevin Kline leans too much into his character's quirkiness. As a result, entirely too many of his scenes see a usually gifted comic performer grasping desperately for any laugh he can find.

Dr. Arliss Loveless: With the two leads playing up for laughs, it might have been a good idea for the villain to strike a contrast. That happens, in a way... but only in that Kenneth Branagh goes so far over-the-top that Smith and Kline seem restrained by comparison. He puts on an exaggerated accent, contorting his face while shouting every line delivery. The resulting cartoon villain is almost entirely ineffective, and I think the performance is a strong contender for Branagh's career worst.

Rita: Infiltrates Loveless's plantation as an entertainer, only to end up locked in a cage for her trouble. Not because Loveless suspects her in any way - He's just a pervert. After her rescue, West wants to leave her behind so that she doesn't get in the way of the mission. She responds by using feminine wiles to appeal to both West and Gordon so that they allow her to come with them. She proceeds to contribute absolutely nothing to the story, existing purely as an object of desire for the two leads. Salma Hayek does what she can, but the script gives her practically nothing to work with.

Gen. "Bloodbath" McGrath: Loveless's henchman is as cartoonish as Loveless himself, but he works a lot better. His ear was shot off in the war, so his wears a trumpet in its place, which he manually adjusts depending on his mood of the moment. Gordon tries to ensnare him by dressing up as a woman, with results that are... um, unconvincing. McGrath immediately gravitates toward Gordon-in-drag; and while none of the dialogue is funny, Ted Levine manages to wring a couple chuckles out of the material thanks to his exaggerated facial expressions.

President Ulysses S. Grant: Written for original series star Robert Conrad, who was initially interested in a cameo role - right up until he read the script, at which point he became one of the film's most vocal critics. Instead of Conrad, Kevin Kline pulls double duty as Grant... and, in a couple of scenes, as Gordon disguised as Grant. Bizarrely, and despite the padded suit, facial hair, and accent, Kline actually plays this cameo role straighter than he does his main role.

Dr. Loveless (Kenneth Branagh) trades barbs with Jim West.
Notice that I don't describe those barbs as "witty."

"SAY SOMETHING NICE":

Wild Wild West has a sort of steampunk visual aesthetic that, while not particularly faithful to the television series, actually works on its own merits. Several frames are filled with mechanical cogs and smoke, with that smoke also used for a couple nifty transitions - notably a seamless cut from the smoke from Gordon's motorized bicycle to the steam of the heroes' train. I'm not a fan of the mechanical spider that dominates the Third Act, but I mostly enjoyed the look of the film.


"SO... WHAT WERE THEY ON?"

One of the appeals of the classic television series, The Wild, Wild West, was the pairing of Robert Conrad's Jim West with Ross Martin's Artemus Gordon. In the show, the man of action and the man of science worked together with affable good humor as they used their skills to defeat the villains of the week.

In the movie, West and Gordon hate each other.

The film tries to follow the enduring "buddy cop" template, as two partners who have different styles gradually learn to respect each other's abilities. The problem is... That never actually happens in this film. West and Gordon start out hating each other. They proceed to continue hating each other. Then they hate each other some more.

Eventually, they have a well-written exchange in which they seem to reach an understanding... only for West to promptly ignore Gordon's attempts to come up with a plan, sneering at him as he dashes off to justify his title as "Master of the Stupid Stuff." We never once see them acting as a team (the climax separates them completely), and so there's a never a sense that they've worked out their differences.

If I wanted to spend two hours in the company of bickering couples, I'd have gone into divorce law, thanks.

A human head is used as a projector.
This is not the strangest thing in the movie.

OTHER MUSINGS:

Wild Wild West reteams director Barry Sonnenfeld and star Will Smith in an action/comedy that tries hard to recapture the magic of their previous hit, Men in Black. Though ostensibly based on the vintage television series, it really plays more like "Men in Black in the Old West." Which would be fine, except that it largely fails.

Smith and Kline have zero screen chemistry. Instead of complementing each other, each seems to be trying to outdo the other in a desperate search for laughs. Meanwhile, Kenneth Branagh seems to be acting in a different movie entirely. The film did poorly with audiences and worse with critics, and it became an instantly notorious box office flop.

None of which I can argue with. By any reasonable measure, this is a bad movie. And yet... I kind of enjoyed it.

The gags may not be funny, but the film still maintains an appealingly light atmosphere. It moves along quickly. Scenes and set pieces are on screen long enough to register and to advance the plot before moving on. The only scene that seriously overstays its welcome is a strained would-be comedy bit featuring Will Smith in drag (a scene that was reportedly only retained because producer Jon Peters loved it). As a result, even as I groaned and/or rolled my eyes at the inanity on display, I remained generally entertained.

A tank is at the center of the movie's most memorable
set piece... and then is never seen again.

Sonnenfeld even manages a couple of deft tonal switches. There's a mid-film massacre that makes for an extremely effective set piece. A tank created by Loveless and his scientists swivels in a lethal circle, killing everyone around it. This should be jarring, because it's so different from the exaggerated comedy surrounding it. Instead, it fits, I think because Loveless continues to behave like an exaggerated cartoon, chortling as the massacre unfolds and taking notes about the interval between screams. Then West and Gordon arrive at the massacre site and are suitably subdued in the presence of the dead. It's the only point at which Loveless actually works as a villain.

That tank really should have been the big superweapon: a personification of faceless, mechanized death that fits with the steampunk aesthetic while puncturing the otherwise comedic tone. By contrast, the giant mechanical spider that dominates the Third Act is... well, silly, and not really in a good way. Given that the tank is never even mentioned again, I wouldn't be surprised if it was originally intended to be Loveless's superweapon, only to get replaced by studio demand for something "bigger" - which fits with indications that the spider was a pet obsession of Jon Peters, who had really wanted a giant spider as an enemy in a cancelled Superman project.


THE MUSIC:

This was the last western scored by the great Elmer Bernstein. Sadly, this score does not rank among his better ones. The original music is... fine. It does its job in supporting action set pieces and in connecting one scene to the next. However, there's nothing memorable about it. Compare with the Men in Black theme, which really established the off-kilter tone of that movie's universe, and the difference is clear. That score both complemented and lifted up sequences; this score is just... there.

Meanwhile, an arrangement of Richard Markowitz's excellent theme from the television series is heard exactly once, as the characters ride into the Third Act. It's by far the best music in the movie, and I have no idea why the film didn't use more of it.

Loveless's mechanical spider.
Bizarre and silly, and not in a good way.

THE OTHER NOMINEES:

1999 was a peculiar year for the Razzies. In a year that saw the releases of such dreadful titles as Baby Geniuses, The Mod Squad (a classic TV series update that I found much worse than Wild Wild West), and The Omega Code, the Razzies chose instead to nominate:

Big Daddy: An Adam Sandler comedy that tried to combine gross-out humor with sentimentality, with the result mainly being a gooey mess. I didn't much care for it, but I wouldn't label it particularly bad. It apparently pleased its target audience, as it was a huge hit.

The Blair Witch Project: The movie that popularized the "found footage" horror subgenre. Which I suppose is reason enough to target it, but it's actually a rather good example of its type.

The Haunting: A remake of the horror classic, The Haunting of Hill House. At least this one is actually regarded as a bad movie - but my impression is that it's more "mediocre programmer" than "Worst of the Worst."

Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace: I will never share the hate for this movie. Yes, Jar-Jar is annoying and much of the dialogue is awful. But most of the world-building that created the Star Wars universe originated here. The political subplot sketches in a lot of story and backstory in just a few minutes, the Palpatine material is excellent, and the music and VFX hold up a quarter of a century later.

In short, it's pretty clear that the Razzies were going for "big titles" over actual bad movies this year.

Gordon creates a working version of Da Vinci's
flying machine. West is understandably skeptical.

OVERALL:

Wild Wild West is by no means a good movie, but I found it to be a strangely enjoyable one. It has visual flair and a few well-directed set pieces, and it maintains an appealingly light tone even as most of its actual gags fail to land.

If nothing else, I wasn't bored by it. That in itself is enough for me to rank it among the better Razzie winners I've reviewed to date.


Rating: Popcorn & Soda.

Worst Picture - 1998: An Alan Smithee Film - Burn, Hollywood, Burn!
Worst Picture - 2000: Battlefield Earth

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1998: An Alan Smithee Film - Burn, Hollywood, Burn!

Director Alan Smithee (Eric Idle)'s Hollywood
dream project turns into a nightmare.

Release Date: Feb. 27, 1998. Running Time: 86 minutes. Screenplay: Joe Eszterhas. Producer: Ben Myron. Director: Alan Smithee (Arthur Hiller).


THE PLOT:

Trio looks on track to be the biggest of summer blockbusters. Headlining stars Sylvester Stallone, Whoopi Goldberg, and Jackie Chan, producers James Edmunds (Ryan O'Neal) and Jerry Glover (Richard Jeni) anticipate a financial windfall. As director, they hire Alan Smithee (Eric Idle), a respected British film editor who eagerly accepts this ticket to Hollywood.

Smithee soon realizes that he was selected not for his ability, but because he lacks the clout to resist the "suggestions" of either the producers or their egotistical stars. The resulting film is, predictably, a mess, and upon seeing it, Smithee labels it "a piece of ****."

Since the DGA credit used when a director removes his name from the credits is "Alan Smithee," he is left with no way to disown it. So he does the only thing he can: He steals the negative before any copies can be made and threatens to burn the movie if he's not given final cut!

So it's basically the same plot as Blake Edwards' S. O. B., only presented as a mockumentary and minus the Third Act tragedy. Or any of the actual laughs...

"Whoopi, Sly, and Jackie": The egotistical stars are allowed
more control over the project than the director.

CHARACTERS:

Alan Smithee: Eric Idle was almost certainly the wrong choice for Smithee. While Idle is capable of being funny when he's given decent material (meaning: not here), he's at his best in supporting roles, bouncing off the main characters or dropping one-liners in the background. As a lead actor, he lacks screen presence. This story needs someone who can project real anger. Even in his big blowup scene, in which he snaps at producer James Edmunds for destroying the movie, he mainly seems to be a bit petulant. Most of the rest of the time, he just looks beat-down and bewildered.

Michelle: The Hollywood formula requires a romance, no matter how unconvincing or tacked-on. Enter Michelle Rafferty (Leslie Stefanson), a prostitute hired by Edmunds to keep Smithee pliable - and, potentially, to give him blackmail material. A movie director (even a married one) sleeping with a pretty young woman was the stuff of scandal in the late 1950s; not so much the late 1990s. Naturally, she develops actual feelings for him. Since most of her scenes consist of her talking to a camera about events that are never shown onscreen, there's zero chance for the actors or written relationship to ever convince, and this whole subplot doesn't end up amounting to anything.

The Brothers Brothers: Rappers Coolio and Chuck D. appear as urban filmmaking brothers Dion and Leon, who become Smithee's allies in his criminal quest for final cut. Likely modeled after The Hughes Brothers, whose Menace 2 Society and Dead Presidents had received a lot of attention in the mid-'90s, they agree to hide Smithee and Trio as they negotiate with the producers for final cut - and a three-picture deal for themselves, of course. The two rappers actually aren't bad, and I got a chuckle out of their reaction to Smithee exclaiming that Trio is "worse than Showgirls!" - but, like most of this movie's elements, it feels like a lot of potential is left on the table to rot like three-week-old bread.

Sam Rizzo: The private detective hired to track down Smithee and the film. He is played by Harey Weinstein. Yes, that Harvey Weinstein. Because if your natural screen presence roughly matches that of a Cave Troll, of course you want to appear on camera. I think Weinstein is going for a Jack Webb vibe with his line deliveries, but he ends up sounding like what he is: a non-actor robotically reading lines from cue cards. His face also seems to be permanently fixed into an expression that says that he just smelled a particularly noxious fart. He who smelt it, Harvey...

"Whoopi, Sly, and Jackie": Though prominently billed on virtually all promotional materials and on both VHS and DVD covers, their roles amount to little more than cameos. I doubt any of them worked much more than a single day. Stallone and Goldberg come across as stilted and uncomfortable, and I suspect their performances are so artificial because they're afraid viewers will mistake this for their actual personalities. Jackie Chan, by contrast, manages to have a tiny bit of fun sending up his own image. When we're told that his character was originally meant to die, he ever-so-calmly explains that this is impossible. Even if he did die, as a Buddhist, he would simply be reincarnated. Later, when the script is changed to accommodate his ego, we see him working out hard while exulting, "No die! No reincarnation!"

Ryan O'Neal as the sleazy producer. Don't let his Razzie
nomination fool you: O'Neal is actually really good.

"SAY SOMETHING NICE":

This is a bad movie, filled with uninteresting and unconvincing characters, many of them played by actors who look like they'd rather be anywhere else. There is one big exception to that, however: Ryan O'Neal.

O'Neal was an actor capable of good work within his range - though at the same time, his range could be politely described as "narrow." He is absolutely perfect, however, as sleazy Hollywood producer James Edmunds, the movie's primary villain. Edmunds presents himself as an affable guy. He's always well-dressed, he speaks softly, he rarely shows any strong emotion. This is a man who chats amiably in his car while the bottom frame of the camera catches the top of a young woman's head (it's a Joe Eszterhas script, so you can guess the context). He seems to have a plastic smile permanently affixed to his face - yet that smile never touches his eyes, and he always seems to be sizing up the person on the other side of the camera, searching for any advantage.

I have little doubt that O'Neal met variations on this type of person many times over his long career. He knows Edmunds, and he presents him perfectly as a snake in human form. The Razzies, ever incapable of separating bad films from bad performances, nominated him as Worst Actor. Though this film is every bit as bad as its reputation, I would personally rate this among O'Neal's better later performances. Certainly, he's the best thing in this movie by a considerable margin.

Just when you think the film can't get any worse,
Harvey Weinstein appears on camera. Just... why?

OTHER MUSINGS:

"It's worse than Showgirls!"
-I'm sad to report: Yes. Yes, it is.

Writer/co-producer Joe Eszterhas is out of his depth with Burn, Hollywood, Burn. His successes, such as Jagged Edge and Basic Instinct, weren't exactly noted for their keen humor. His failures, such as Sliver and Showgirls, were only funny by accident. This type of satire requires genuine wit. Since it's an "inside Hollywood" story, it also requires an ability to make itself feel relevant to general audiences, most of whom don't work in Hollywood. Eszterhas fails on both counts, making a movie that's unfunny and that has a story likely to be incomprehensible to people who don't know at least a bit about the American film industry.

Compounding the problem is that this film is a mockumentary. This is a format that can be effective, as famously shown with This Is Spinal Tap. But it's not an easy format to make work. Not only does a mockumentary have to be funny; it also has to convincingly present itself as if it was a documentary. Spinal Tap aces this test. If its story was real, it would have stood as a fine document of that band's rise and fall. If the story of An Alan Smithee Film: Burn, Hollywood, Burn was real... then this would still be an incredibly poor documentary.

The vast majority of the tale is told to us by talking heads, describing a narrative that we rarely get to actually witness. Look at real documentaries. As a rule, if footage of an incident is available, it will be used. Talking heads fill in information, viewpoints, and emotional reactions. But if it's possible to show us what's being described, actual documentaries do so. That rarely happens here - we're just told what happened by the talking heads.

The nature of the story makes that particularly bizarre. Trio is a film shoot. That means that licensed behind-the-scenes people would be shooting their promotional companion pieces, presumably capturing some of the clashes and a few tantalizing bits of the movie itself. There would be appearances by the stars on talk shows, and interviews with Entertainment Tonight (this was the '90s). We don't get so much as a still photo of Smithee failing to direct his stars. The only glimpse we receive is in the opening scene, with everything else related after the fact.

Midway through, the movie itself seems to realize that the mockumentary format isn't working. At this point, we start to get full dramatic scenes. This isn't billed as either security footage or re-enactments. No, we just somehow get to see certain bits even though no camera is apparently present, which makes it all the more jarring when the movie insists on returning to the talking-heads format.

I might understand this sort of thing in a cheap indie film... this was a $10 million production. Not a huge budget, even in the '90s, but enough that I can't make excuses for the sloppiness.

Edmunds negotiates with the Brothers Brothers. If this
is a documentary, I have one question: Who's filming this?

A RANT:

"If we believe in film - and we do - don't we have a responsibility to protect the world from bad ones?"
-Alan Smithee reflects to the Brothers Brothers.

The movie wants to make Eric Idle's Smithee into a heroic figure, repeatedly telling us that he is doing a good thing by stopping the public from being forced to witness the cinematic abomination that is Trio. This just isn't something I can get behind.

It's a misjudgment on the part of this movie that the project in question is not some personal pet project of Smithee's, but instead a late 1990s Sylvester Stallone action flick that was already moving forward before he signed on. I personally enjoy a lot of Stallone's movies, but his late 1990s output... Well, let's just say that our "hero director" must have been smoking something pretty strong to think there was any soul for Edmunds and his studio machine to eviscerate in the first place.

Beyond that, I'm just not in favor of making art inaccessible, not even bad art. No one really loses anything for spending 90 minutes or so watching a crappy action flick. When works are shut away, whether because they have become culturally inappropriate (Song of the South) or because a studio wanted a tax write-off (Batgirl or Scoob), or because a streaming service wanted to focus on big studio works (Paramount Plus's Australian mini-series One Night), it diminishes the cultural landscape when stories are shut away in a vault, never mind actually destroyed. If this were a real story, I wouldn't care how bad Trio was - I would resent the hell out of Mr. Smithee deciding I shouldn't have the option to waste my time viewing it.

I mentioned Blake Edwards' S. O. B. earlier, noting how similar the story was. There's one big difference, though (besides S. O. B. being, y'know, good): In that film, Richard Mulligan's Felix Farmer is trying to rescue his movie from being recut, so that the "proper" version is what hits theaters. He has no intention of destroying his work, he instead wants to save it. In this movie, Alan Smithee is ready and willing to destroy Trio, and he's just as full of phony self-justifications as Ryan O'Neal's loathsome producer, and he's every bit as smug and phony at the end. This is the guy I'm meant to root for?

Burning a film is like burning a book: Once you do it, you're officially not the good guy anymore.

Smithee with the Brothers Brothers (Coolio, Chuck D.).
Not pictured: Anyone who looks like they want to be here.

THE OTHER NOMINEES:

Armageddon is the quintessential Michael Bay film: too long, too dumb, and too loud. It's also quite a lot of fun for a while, with Bruce Willis in good form as a miner tapped by NASA to lead his crew into space to drill a hole into an asteroid hurtling toward Earth. At a certain point, "too much" really does become too much, and I was mostly just exhausted by the end - but there's no way this belongs on any "Worst Picture" list.

The Avengers: Not the superhero film. No, this is much sillier. An update of the classic 1960s British television series, this stars Ralph Fiennes as John Steed and Uma Thurman as Emma Peel, British spies trying to save the world from a mad scientist (Sean Connery) in the most English way possible. This was a victim of deep post-production cuts, with about forty minutes disappearing into the ether, and the story's often incoherent as a result. It absolutely is a bad movie - and yet, I have to admit to finding a certain amount of charm in it despite its problems.

Godzilla: Godzilla comes to America, and only Ferris Bueller can stop him! Director Roland Emmerich's reboot of the Japanese monster franchise was instantly ridiculed by critics and Godzilla fans. I've only seen isolated clips, but those are remarkable in that the very expensive Hollywood Godzilla looks much worse than the cheap "man in a monster suit" Godzilla from the old black-and-white films.

The last of the nominees was Spice World, which I'm happy to say I haven't seen a second of. It was successful at the box office and seemed to please fans of the group, however, which means it's almost certainly less painful than An Alan Smithee Film.

Alan Smithee, smug in victory. He's supposed to be
better than Edmunds in what way, exactly?

OVERALL:

An Alan Smithee Film's biggest sin is that it's boring. The characters are bland. We're told the entire story in the opening minutes, leaving the rest of the film an exercise in recreating that story via oral history. With mostly talking heads describing even those events that should exist on camera, and with multiple scenes breaking away from the format, this becomes a textbook example of how not to make a mockumentary.

And did I mention? It's incredibly boring. At a little over 80 minutes, including credits, this feels far longer than The Postman's three hours ever threatened to.


Rating: Flushable Wipe (Used).

Worst Picture - 1997: The Postman
Worst Picture - 1999: Wild Wild West

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1997: The Postman.

A drifter (Kevin Costner) inspires hope by delivering mail after the apocalypse.

Release Date: Dec. 25, 1997. Running Time: 177 minutes. Screenplay: Eric Roth, Brian Helgeland. Based on the novel by: David Brin. Producer: Jim Wilson, Steve Tisch, Kevin Costner. Director: Kevin Costner.


THE PLOT:

At the turn of the 21st century, the apocalypse was triggered not by some international incident, but instead by an idiot. Nathan Holn preached for white supremacy and against democracy, and he managed to inspire a large enough following to tear down the United States of America, apparently in part by setting off nuclear devastation.

More than a decade later, in the near future year of 2013, a drifter (Kevin Costner) travels through the sparsely populated wasteland that was the American west. When he stops at the wrong town at the wrong time, he ends up pressed into the army of the "Holnists," followers of Nathan Holn's teachings led by Gen. Bethlehem (Will Patton), who has set himself up as a feudal ruler.

The drifter manages to escape. He finds the wreckage of a postal truck, with the uniformed skeleton of the postal carrier along with undelivered mail from just before the apocalypse. He takes on the role of "postman" so that he can get a meal and shelter at a nearby town. But when he spins his tale of being a postal carrier for the newly restored United States, he becomes an unlikely symbol of hope for the harried survivors.

And hope is one thing that Gen. Bethlehem isn't about to tolerate...

A prisoner of the Holnists.

KEVIN COSTNER AS THE POSTMAN:

One thing I will say for director Kevin Costner: In all three of his films, he's shown an awareness of the strengths and limitations of star Kevin Costner. He seems to recognize that he's not the best at emoting. Gen. Bethlehem makes grandiose speeches, and members of the supporting cast get emotional moments. Meanwhile, Costner mostly just reacts to events as they occur.

This is actually a good approach to the character. The "Refusing the Call" stage of The Hero's Journey? For The Postman, that's most of the movie. He adopted this persona as a con to get a meal. He indulges young Ford Lincoln Mercury (Larenz Tate) when he asks to be sworn in as a postal carrier - but he's instantly appalled when Ford declares that he would die to get a letter to its destination.

He tries at one point to disband the fledgling postal service, because he neither wants to get killed or watch his young followers die. Try though he might, however, he cannot put that genie back into the bottle. Even when he accepts this and rides to his climactic confrontation with Gen. Bethlehem, he dismisses both himself and Bethlehem as just "a couple of phonies."

Gen. Bethlehem (Will Patton) will not tolerate dissent.

OTHER CHARACTERS:

Gen. Bethlehem: The ever-reliable Will Patton leans into the post-apocalyptic silliness, chewing scenery with abandon as the villain of the piece. Bethlehem was a small man, a copy machine salesman who was granted purpose by the end of civilization. He now leads an army, but at heart he remains small. He's sadistic when backed by an army, but he tries to deny a one-on-one challenge when it comes. He's also literally impotent, as the movie spells out because subtlety is for losers. Still, he's well read and able to speak with passion, which is enough for him to attract followers who are hungry to live a life that matters. And yes, that very same hunger for meaning and connection is what turns the communities away from him and to the postman. The very element of human nature that he exploits is the one that undermines his control.

Ford Lincoln Mercury: Dumb question: Why is Ford (Larenz Tate) a supporting character? He's the one who, after meeting the Postman, does the actual work of setting up a functioning regional postal service. All of which happens offscreen. Ford is the real driving force of the story, with Costner's Postman only agreeing to head the new service because he can't make himself disappoint the eager recruits. Wouldn't it have been more meaningful if we followed Ford as the viewpoint character, seeing the Postman only through his eyes? Learning that the Postman's claims are lies with Ford, and then deciding - with Ford - that what they've built matters in spite of that? This film has several missed opportunities, and restricting Ford to a supporting role is one of the biggest.

Abby: The young Olivia Williams is stunningly gorgeous. Yes, I'm leading with that. Why not? The film does. She's introduced asking The Postman to have sex with her because her husband (Charles Esten) is sterile, and her early scenes mainly focus on how pretty she is. Williams, a fine actress, gets some good scenes later: reacting with anger and hatred to Bethlehem, for instance, or when she becomes bitterly disillusioned by the Postman. But the last part of the film completely reduces her to eye candy. Well, eye candy plus Costner cheerleader.

Sheriff Briscoe: Daniel von Bargen is very good as the crusty sheriff of Pineview, the town where The Postman first makes his claims. The townspeople believe in The Postman because they so desperately want to. And because The Postman does have a letter for a blind town resident that makes her and others happy, the sheriff allows them to believe. But he smells what the bull dropped, and he makes clear that he wants this stranger gone before he causes trouble. Even so, he can't fully dismiss his own hope. He knows that this stranger is lying... but he still gives him a letter to his sister before sending him on his way.

Col. Getty: Television mainstay Joe Santos makes a strong impression as Bethlehem's right-hand man. Getty was the last person to challenge Bethlehem for leadership, in a fight we're told lasted mere seconds. Getty was rendered mute, but he has remained loyal to Bethlehem. Santos is able to say much with a few looks. He pauses to show compassion for Luke (Scott Bairstow), stopping another Holnist from shooting Luke when he defects to the Postman. Also, while he cannot speak, he ends up with the final word on the story's conflict.

"How much mail can a dead postman deliver?" The Postman and
Ford (Larenz Tate) differ about the value of the mail.

"SAY SOMETHING NICE":

OK... Exactly how could this be considered the Worst Picture of 1997 or any other year? I'm not going to call The Postman a good movie, because it's not. There are some pretty big problems with both structure and pacing.

That said, I wouldn't call this a particularly bad movie either. It looks terrific, its $80 million budget absolutely visible on screen. It's generally well acted; as I mentioned, Costner seems to be aware of his own limited range and keeps well within that, trusting the heavy emotional moments to the strong supporting cast. A few emotional moments even somehow manage to land - notably a wordless scene in which Sheriff Briscoe finally gets a reply to his letter.

There's plenty wrong here, and I'll spend most of the rest of this review talking about that. But the movie only truly faceplants in its final stretch. Until the last thirty minutes or so, it at least kept me generally entertained.

I'm not going to rank myself among this movie's defenders... but unlike, say, Howard the Duck, I have no difficulty seeing why this film has defenders. There's a very good movie in here somewhere - and every so often, you're able to catch a decent glimpse of what it might have been.

The Postman gets a statue. Because of course he does.

VANITY, THY NAME IS KEVIN:

The million dollar question: Does The Postman qualify as a vanity project? On the one hand, Costner had a previous track record as the director of the Oscar winning hit, Dances with Wolves. He also distributes strong moments to other members of the cast in a story that sees him spending half the running time trying to stay alive and/or con people into giving him food and shelter so that he can stay alive.

On the other hand. Well...

Never mind that he stars, produces, and directs. If that's all it took to make a vanity project, then you could apply the same label to more than half of Clint Eastwood's output. I'd even allow for him casting his daughter in a supporting role. Annie Costner, as the similarly nameless "Ponytail," acquits herself passably. She's a little wooden, but I've seen worse from properly trained actors.

But then there's that final stretch, in which no less than three supporting characters take pains to tell the Postman to his face just how great he is. Then there's the epilogue, in which the Postman's grown daughter (an unbilled Mary Stuart Masterson) unveils a posthumous statue to her father before - yes - making a speech about how great he was. And then there's the end credits, in which Costner sings the (Razzie winning) end song with Amy Grant.

So... yeah. I think I'm going to label this one a vanity project. And someone should tell Costner that stroking his ego that blatantly in public might get him arrested in some counties.

Pineview's crusty sheriff (Daniel von Bargen) gets a letter, in one of the few emotional moments that lands.

OTHER MUSINGS:

There are three big issues with The Postman. The first is that it is mostly humorless. Mad Max's George Miller would have had great fun embracing the ludicrous elements and leaning into the tropes. In Costner's hands, almost everything is presented with such earnestness that supposedly dramatic moments become unintentionally funny.

There's the big "trailer moment" in which the Postman picks up a letter from a young boy at the side of a road. As the music swells with Great Importance, I find that I can't help but giggle. Another such moment is the overwrought speech Abby gives late in the film, as she tells Costner's Postman: "You give out hope like it was candy in your pocket." And in my head, Leslie Nielsen starts expanding the metaphor by talking about how it's half-melted and tastes funny. And then maybe tries to lure children to a white van with it.

The second problem is that there's no sense of the passage of time. The first Act sees the main character pressed into a post-apocalyptic warlord's army, escaping that army, finding the postal truck, and assuming the Postman's identity. Did this take place over a span of days, weeks, months? We have no idea. What was the interval between his escape and finding the postal truck? Was it weeks later, or did he stumble across the truck that same day? Again, we have no clue.

The main body of the story sees Ford creating a postal service, the Postman eventually agreeing to lead it, and Bethlehem coming to see this fledgling service as a threat that must be eradicated. Surely this takes place over a stretch of several months, if not a year or two? Except that Abby is impregnated by The Postman the night they meet - the very first day that he assumes the Postman's identity - and she only gives birth at the very end of the story. So that means that everything from his arrival in Pineview to the defeat of Bethlehem takes place over approximately nine months!

Never mind that it would actually raise the stakes for the Postman to have a young child to protect while the conflict is ongoing. As I mentioned earlier, this is a movie that never misses an opportunity to squander even the most obvious dramatic potential.

The final, and biggest, problem is the pacing. With a three hour running time, it's little surprise that parts of the story drag. What is a surprise is how much of it feels rushed! We spend entirely too long watching the Postman recuperate in a mountain cabin. Meanwhile, the postal service is created by Ford, entirely offscreen. Oh, and its further growth after the Postman agrees to lead it? That's basically a montage. As is much of the conflict with Bethlehem. And raising an army to face Bethlehem? That's another thing that happens offscreen.

The long running time isn't the problem. The problem is that the movie spends so long on setup that it ends up zooming through what's meant to be the heart of the story. The first two thirds should at most be the first half (probably less), while the final third should be fleshed out to at least a full half.

I'll emphasize again that, at least until the last half hour, I don't actually think this movie is that bad. The first half or so is generally decent. Even in the final hour, there are individual moments that work quite well. The idea of people needing something to believe in, and how that can be used for good (the sense of community created by the postal service) or bad (Bethlehem and the Holnists) is a worthy one, even if the execution is laughably heavy-handed.

And given the competition, I certainly don't think this deserved Worst Picture...

New carriers are sworn in as the postal service grows.

THE OTHER NOMINEES:

Anaconda is a deeply stupid monster flick with Jennifer Lopez and Ice Cube leading a documentary crew that makes the mistake of rescuing ultra-crazy Jon Voight, while most of the supporting cast ends up eaten by a giant snake. Unlike The Postman, this movie isn't trying to be anything other than dumb fun, which is precisely why I don't think it belongs on this list.

Batman & Robin would be my personal pick for Worst Picture. It attempts to channel the campy fun of the 1960s series, but it overshoots. Instead of "so bad it's good," it ends up being so bad that it's horrible. Unless you like ice puns or are curious to see how a dominant box office franchise was destroyed by a single film, then the only reason to watch this is for the Rifftrax commentary.

Fire Down Below represented yet another attempt by Steven Seagal to blend mindless action with environmentalism. I never saw it, but since every post-Executive Decision Seagal film that I have seen is dreadful (and not even in a fun way), I have no reason to doubt its awfulness.

Finally, there is Speed 2: Cruise Control. Many thought Keanu Reeves had sabotaged his career by declining to return. Then the movie came out. Even with a scenery chomping Willem Dafoe as the villain, this is too stupid to even qualify as "dumb fun."

The Postman rides to battle after raising an army offscreen.

OVERALL:

Kevin Costner's career was never quite the same after The Postman, but it was far from destroyed. His directorial follow-up, Open Range, was made on a smaller budget and smaller scale, and it demonstrated the exact discipline and focus that was absent here; I actually think it's the best of his three directorial efforts.

As an actor, he bounced back with the commercially successful Message in a Bottle... but his leading man days were clearly numbered, and he transitioned to character roles with the well-received Cuban Missile Crisis drama, Thirteen Days. I think the character roles suit his strengths much better than "star" roles, truthfully, and he's kept working consistently in movies and television both good and bad.

As for The Postman? I think it's at least a halfway interesting curio. It's a failure, oddly paced and focusing on many of the wrong parts of its story. But it's rarely less than watchable and often fairly engaging, and I wouldn't rank it as being anywhere near the disaster that contemporary critics made it out to be.


Rating: Raspberry.

Worst Picture - 1996: Striptease
Worst Picture - 1998: An Alan Smithee Film - Burn, Hollywood, Burn!

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