Talking about the now can sometimes put one in the then.

Space Station 76

(2014)

A 1970s space soap opera, actor turned director Jack Plotnick’s debut feature Space Station 76 is a casually kitsch idiosyncratic curiosity. It’s possibly too high concept, the visual affectation suggesting a capacity for comedy and camp that is never really made good. But Space Station 76 (1976, obviously) is undeniably well observed, balancing out the retro-indulgence with surprisingly strong characterisation and performances.

The picture has little in the way of narrative trajectory, hence the concentration on soapy elements; characters work through their issues in a very ‘70s fashion, which naturally includes period-appropriate drink, drugs, sex and psychoanalysis. The crew include the unhappy, closeted, chain-smoking Captain Glenn (Patrick Wilson, offering a more subdued but tache-laden approximation of Ron Burgundy).

New co-pilot Jessica (Liv Tyler) struggles with inherent sexism in the work place and her conflicted feelings on not being able to have children. She forms a maternal friendship with Sunshine (Kylie Rogers) a seven-year old who doesn’t have much luck with pets and has no friends her own age. Her adversarial parents are robot-handed mechanic Ted (Matt Bomer) and self-involved, manipulative Misty (Marisa Coughlan). Misty is seeing Steve (Jerry O’Connell) on the side, and Ted and Jessica become attracted to each other. And, of course, tensions escalate. In a fairly lackadaisical manner. You get the idea.

Embedded in this space suburbia are recognisable ‘70s artefacts and mores. Ted is growing weed in the geodesic garden (very Silent Running, well not the weed bit although you know Bruce Dern would have been), Missy is addicted to prescription medicines (with which her robot shrink plies her), the Captain attempts to hide his drinking (when he gets pissed he powers the engines up and down continuously, a substitute automobile) and sexuality and takes out his tensions on those around him. There are ‘70s futurism ideas like food machines, and then-modern toys like videotapes and viewfinders. Burnt orange is a common colour for walls, and turtleneck sweaters are in.

Because the picture is unwilling to be pigeonholed, it’s easy to assume it is misrepresenting itself. The space age material is limited to Kubrick nods (the sets, Keir Dullea cameoing - and bearing a passing resemblance to Emperor Palpatine) and a reflection of the essential mundanity of space that evokes Dark Star by way of sets and lighting that consciously evoke ‘70s TV science fiction; there’s no proper science fiction here, and comments about never having been to Earth and the Quasar Revolution are more nods to those trappings than suggestive of any interest in them.

Occasionally it looks as if Plotnick intends to veer off into Airplane! territory; the dramatic music during an opening sequence, where it appears as if the captain is about to open fire, merely leads to him sparking the equivalent of a car cigarette lighter. The captain’s attempts at suicide or consistently foiled by the ship computer, be it electrocution or poisoning.

Therapy sessions with Sleeper-esque Dr Bot, a programmed psychotherapy robot, are consistently very funny and invariably lead to the suggestion, “Perhaps you would you like to try valium?” His response to Missy’s declaration of feelings for her therapist is “Emotional overload!”. But this isn’t really a spoof, and the performances aren’t self-mocking, they’re treading a line between Frank Drebin deadpan and earnest portrayal.

Space Station 76 is reasonably engaging once one slips into its groove, but it’s very slight. The science fiction conceit is just that, obstinately refusing to indulge its potential aside from the occasional comedy (Dr Bot) or emotional beat (Sunshine’s favourite game is playing zero gravity). It’s a decision that is likely to elicit Marmite responses of “Oh, that’s clever; I see what they did there” (it isn’t especially, but it is attention seeking) or discontent that the makers have done some misleading. I’m somewhere between the two, however. This isn’t really much of comedy or, drugs references aside, much of an oddball stoner movie either. And yet, while there are interludes of borderline boredom, the characters themselves gradually creep up on you, aided by an ensemble of strong performances.

Comments

If you never do anything, you never become anyone.

An Education (2009)
Carey Mulligan deserves all the attention she received for her central performance, and the depiction of the ‘60s is commendably subdued. I worried there was going to be a full-blown music montage sequence at the climax that undid all the good work, but thankfully it was fairly low key.

Alfred Molina and Olivia Williams are especially strong in the supporting roles, and it's fortunate for credibility’s sake that that Orlando Bloom had to drop out and Dominic Cooper replaced him.
***1/2

She writes Twilight fan fiction.

Vampire Academy (2014)
My willingness to give writer Daniel Waters some slack on the grounds of early glories sometimes pays off (Sex and Death 101) and sometimes, as with this messy and indistinct Young Adult adaptation, it doesn’t. If Vampire Academy plods along as a less than innovative smart-mouthed Buffy rip-off that might be because, if you added vampires to Heathers, you would probably get something not so far from the world of Joss Whedon. Unfortunately inspiration is a low ebb throughout, not helped any by tepid direction from Daniel’s sometimes-reliable brother Mark and a couple of hopelessly plankish leads who do their best to dampen down any wit that occasionally attempts to surface.

I can only presume there’s a never-ending pile of Young Adult fiction poised for big screen failure, all of it comprising multi-novel storylines just begging for a moment in the Sun. Every time an adaptation crashes and burns (and the odds are that they will) another one rises, hydra-like, hoping…

Can you close off your feelings so you don’t get crippled by the moral ambiguity of your violent actions?

Spider-Man Worst to Best

I should have mailed it to the Marx Brothers.

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)
When your hero(es) ride off into the sunset at the end of a film, it’s usually a pretty clear indication that a line is being drawn under their adventures. Sure, rumours surfaced during the ‘90s of various prospective screenplays for a fourth outing for the whip-cracking archeologist. But I’m dubious anyone really expected it to happen. There seemed to be a natural finality to Last Crusade that made the announcement of his 2007 return nostalgically welcome but otherwise unwarranted. That it turned out so tepid merely seemed like confirmation of what we already knew; Indy’s time was past.

Do you read Sutter Cane?

In the Mouth of Madness (1994)
(SPOILERS) The concluding chapter of John Carpenter’s unofficial Apocalypse Trilogy (preceded by The Thing and Prince of Darkness) is also, sadly, his last great movie. Indeed, it stands apart in the qualitative wilderness that beset him during the ‘90s (not for want of output). Michael De Luca’s screenplay had been doing the rounds since the ‘80s, even turned down by Carpenter at one point, and it proves ideal fodder for the director, bringing out the best in him. Even cinematographer Gary K Kibbe seems inspired enough to rise to the occasion. It could do without the chugging rawk soundtrack, perhaps, but then, that was increasingly where Carpenter’s interests resided (as opposed to making decent movies).

Everyone who had a talent for it lived happily ever after.

Empire 30: Favourite Films of the Last 30 Years
Empire’s readers’ poll to celebrate its thirtieth birthday – a request for the ultimate thirty films of the last thirty years, one per year from 1989 – required a bit of thought, particularly since they weren’t just limiting it to your annual favourite (“These can be the films that impressed you the most, the ones that stuck with you, that brought you joy, or came to you at just the right time”). Also – since the question was asked on Twitter, although I don’t know how rigorous they’re being; does it apply to general release, or does it include first film festival showings? – they’re talking UK release dates, rather than US, calling for that extra modicum of mulling. To provide more variety, I opted to limit myself to just one film per director; otherwise, my thirty would have been top heavy with, at very least, Coen Brothers movies. So here’s they are, with runners-up and reasoning:

You're always sorry, Charles, and there's always a speech, but nobody cares anymore.

X-Men: Dark Phoenix (2019)
(SPOILERS) To credit its Rotten Tomatoes score (22%), you’d think X-Men: Dark Phoenix was a travesty that besmirched the name of all good and decent (read: MCU proper) superhero movies, or even last week’s underwhelming creature feature (Godzilla: King of Monsters has somehow reached 40%, despite being a lesser beast in every respect). Is the movie’s fate a self-fulfilling prophecy, what with delayed release dates and extensively reported reshoots? Were critics castigating a fait accompli turkey without giving it a chance? That would be presupposing they’re all sheep, though, and in fairness, other supposed write-offs havecome back from such a brink in the past (World War Z). Whatever the feelings of the majority, Dark Phoenix is actually a mostly okay (twelfth) instalment in the X-franchise – it’s exactly what you’d expect from an X-Men movie at this point, one without any real mojo left and a variable cast struggling to pull its weight. The third act is a bi…

What, you're going to walk in there like it's the commie Disneyland or something?

Stranger Things 3 (2019)
(SPOILERS) It’s very clear by this point that Stranger Things isn’t going to serve up any surprises. It’s operating according to a strict formula, one requiring the opening of the portal to the Upside Down every season and an attendant demagorgon derivative threat to leak through, only to be stymied at the last moment by our valorous team. It’s an ‘80s sequel cycle through and through, and if you’re happy with it functioning exclusively on that level, complete with a sometimes overpowering (over)dose of nostalgia references, this latest season will likely strike you as just the ticket.

You want to investigate me, roll the dice and take your chances.

A Few Good Men (1992)
(SPOILERS) Aaron Sorkin has penned a few good manuscripts in his time, but A Few Good Men, despite being inspired by an actual incident (one related to him by his sister, an army lawyer on a case at the time), falls squarely into the realm of watchable but formulaic. I’m not sure I’d revisited the entire movie since seeing it at the cinema, but my reaction is largely the same: that it’s about as impressively mounted and star-studded as Hollywood gets, but it’s ultimately a rather empty courtroom drama.

Why would I turn into a filing cabinet?

Captain Marvel (2019)
(SPOILERS) All superhero movies are formulaic to a greater or lesser degree. Mostly greater. The key to an actually great one – or just a pretty good one – is making that a virtue, rather than something you’re conscious of limiting the whole exercise. The irony of the last two stand-alone MCU pictures is that, while attempting to bring somewhat down-the-line progressive cachet to the series, they’ve delivered rather pedestrian results. Of course, that didn’t dim Black Panther’s cultural cachet (and what do I know, swathes of people also profess to loving it), and Captain Marvel has hit half a billion in its first few days – it seems that, unless you’re poor unloved Ant-Man, an easy $1bn is the new $700m for the MCU – but neither’s protagonist really made that all-important iconic impact.

Now In Full Color, with a Happier Ending

Search This Blog