Yes I know I said that the Inside Job would be next, but Dr. H saw this movie and insisted I get it up ASAP to save anyone from being subjected to its torture.
My take on this movie is – any man who takes his girlfriend to this movie and then confesses that he liked it, will in all probably receive a curt “Dear John” letter stating to the effect “I am leaving you for…anyone else.” This movie has some serious intellectual limitations and some major aesthetic challenges to overcome. It is not only a loud sensory overload, but it is incredibly stupid.
The story goes like this. Aliens have arrived inside meteors that rain along the coasts of all major cities and contain within, alien troops that of course that look like huge reptiles with automatic weapons coming from their arms. There are some hints dropped that the aliens are here to claim our water, but this premise is neither fully explored nor explained. There is a marine platoon that takes on the task of defeating the aliens and the evacuation of Santa Monica, led by staff sergeant Nantz (Aaron Eckhart), who is about to marretire in a month’s time (where have we heard this before?). An otherwise fine actor, Eckhart is badly let down by the script, the director Johnathan Liebsman, the special effects team, and every other thing that goes into making a movie.
You can almost sense his discomfort and you get the feeling that his prime responsibility perhaps is to somehow protect his supporting cast from this vulgar onslaught rather than actually confronting the aliens and saving the planet. But you can’t do much with a script that relies on grunts and screams like “more!” “look out!” “fine!” and the tedious dialogue. Consider these dialogues and weep. “Now I want you to be my little Marine.” “That’s what Marines do.” The funniest thing is that there is no symmetry in action and everyone is under fire from all possible directions and everyone appears to be everywhere.
It borrows heavily from an artistic and vastly superior film, District Nine. Too bad the irony and the political satire of District Nine was lost on the director. You can almost imagine the producer selling the movie to a studio boss, “Remember District Nine, a movie made for $15 million, grossed $200 million worldwide. Guess what? We’ll do a better job. Uglier aliens. No humanitarian subtext. No depth. And best of all a story line a third grader can relate to. Now that’s a movie to boot.”
I stumbled out of the movie theater dazed, confused, and cursing myself for this mother of all stupidities. I could have better used my $20, crashed at the JPFMovies cave, watched a sensible movie, and feasted on some decent food. But then again, I did save you guys from this movie. I feel redeemed.
J.P.'s I'm Outta Here Movie Thoughts 