Stealth

Some time ago, I wrote a generally positive review of THE GUARDIAN, a bad movie that made the effort to get the little details of military aviation and culture right, thus earning it enough goodwill to overcome its inherent badness. STEALTH, a film about naval aviators flying stealth jets, was made by people who seem to never have met anyone who has ever served in the military in any capacity; further, these people never bothered to read even the most rudimentary book about stealth technology - I'll bet dollars to doughnuts that they don't even know the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum even exists. Thus, it generates so much ill will that its badness gets magnified a hundredfold. The captain of an aircraft carrier (Joe Morton, discarding the last of the credibility earned in BROTHER FROM ANOTHER PLANET) wears a jacket patch for a different aircraft carrier. Another captain (Sam Shepard, paying the bills) wields more power than a 3-star admiral. A naval aviator, when told that his boss has lined up some liberty in Thailand, responds, "But we just got here!" (Here being the aforementioned aircraft carrier.) Note to future screenwriters: when any naval aviator, under any conditions, is told that he's going to Thailand, there is only one possible response: "Giddyup!"

STEALTH begins with an aerial sequence that demonstrates the decided unstealthiness of our heroes' aircraft. They don't even bother to baffle the exhaust ports, guaranteeing infrared signatures that'd be observable from space. From there, we're told that we're in Fallon, NV, where our heroes (Josh Lucas, Jamie Foxx, and Jessical Biel) are putting their birds through their paces. Never mind that Fallon isn't used for that. Next, we see them in town in their whites (another no no), where the guys are charming the ladies at an upscale sushi bar while Biel sits chastely, waiting for her One True Love, presumably, to reveal himself. OK, stop. I've spent significant time in Fallon. This is a town that offers three different kinds of food and two kinds of drink: rare, medium, and well-done steak; and Miller or Bud. By the time the heroes get to the boat, where they stay in CO's staterooms even though they're lieutenants, I'd gone well past suspension of disbelief and into resentment at the film's laziness. And I haven't even brought up its violations of the laws of physics, warfare, geography, and politics.

It's as if the makers of STEALTH set out to make the most aggressively stupid movie they could possibly make. Instead of shooting for themselves or anyone who might be interested, they shot for the broadest cross-section of international box office, making a movie that anyone, anywhere could understand. Problem is, they overshot understandable and wound up in stupid. When the guy who programmed the drone-gone-wild that the heroes defeat (Richard Roxburgh) chides Shepard, "You can't tell it to learn and then tell it who to learn from (sic)! Einstein, Hitler, they're all the same to him," we think, "Thanks for telling me that now, jerkoff, now that you've cashed the check. Where was this wisdom when you were writing up the technical proposal?" And don't get me started on the most lightly guarded section of the Korean border since Sgts. Lee Soo-hyeok and Oh Kyeong-pil spent their nights yucking it up in their shack.

Oh, this movie was beyond ghastly. It was beyond terrible. It was an affront to the very concept of film as an entertainment and artistic medium. I'm sorry it ever turned up on my radar.

Highlander: Endgame

I remember how we began, with HIGHLANDER. It was the days before the internet, and I walked into the theater solely on the strength of Sean Connery's name on the poster. You surprised me. You dazzled me. You found a special place in my heart.

But you changed. In HIGHLANDER II: THE QUICKENING, I didn't even recognize you. Everything you had told me about yourself turned out to be a lie, and you treated me like the dirt under your shoes. So I walked away.

I was done with you. I didn't need you in my life. But then you came around, full of promise, with HIGHLANDER III: THE SORCERER. It wasn't like the first time, and our trust had been broken, but at least it seemed like you were making an effort. Finally, though, I realized you were an empty shell - all promise and no delivery. We were finished. Through. I had my own path to tread.

Why, oh why, did I allow myself to fall into the same trap when you came back around with HIGHLANDER IV: ENDGAME? I knew what I was getting into, but I couldn't resist. My heart kept going back to those wonderful early days, even as my mind told me that no good could come of you. I should have listened. Once you had me committed again, you didn't even try to act like a real movie. You were nothing more than an "extra special episode with special guest Christopher Lambert." Your production values were strictly cable tv - and one of the high-numbered channels, to boot. Your heroes were lame, and your villains even lamer. Your story was pointless, your fight choreography uninteresting, and your climax an invalidation of your own wobbly mythos. That's it. I'm done with you, and for good this time. Don't come around, because I respect myself now and I've got no time for you.

What? IMDB tells me that HIGHLANDER: THE SOURCE is in post-production? Well, maybe just this once. What's the harm?