Cinematic Trifecta

Watched a trio of science fiction flicks this weekend, two with the little ones and one by myself last night (the wife flew out to Cleveland on business earlier in the day).  One full-fledged classic, one cheesy classic, and one downright bad.

The downright bad one I watched by myself because it was made it 2010, and thus had gratuitous violence, gore and horrifying deaths.  And though the same could be said – heavy emphasis on that word, ‘could’ – about the other two, but since the first was made in 1954 and the second in 1968, my children would not be scarred for life watching them.  (Although The Blob, a 1958 entry into the world of cinematic sci fi, most certainly scarred me for life, though I watched it without parental supervision when I was about eight or nine.)

Anyhoo … the first flick was the psychedelic joint Japanese-American toy model, rubber suit monster movie The Green Slime.  I recall watching it only once as a lad – but what an impression it made on me!  All the mesmerizing essentials: a daring and dangerous mission, a space station, alien goo that can’t be killed but multiplies into man-sized giant-eyeballed sparkler-tentacled killing machines.  Oh, and the space station, resembling Pee Wee Herman’s bicycle’s rear tire, falls aflame into earth’s atmosphere, eventually exploding in a furious bang. 

Well, the second time around it wasn’t nearly as good.  Even the little one’s thought it was a bit on the lame side, though they watched the entire thing in varying stages of riveted-ness.  We even had some good laughs, too.  For example, we all kinda simultaneously realized the green slimers look remarkably like Brobee from Yo Gabba Gabba gone bad:

Brobee ... good

Green Slimer ... bad

Whenever a green slimer gets lasered and bleeds onto the floor, out of the green slimy blood pops up these marble-sized miniature green slimers who in short order grow to join the army of green slimeys.  Patch – age five – had the best line of the afternoon when she shuddered and labeled them “booger babies.”

Next on the miniature silver screen in the living room was the classic – the essential – the phenomenal – Godzilla, King of the Monsters.  The Americanized version of the black-and-white Japanese original, with Raymond Burr as reporter “Steve Martin” to frame and narrate the terrible reign of Godzilla, a.k.a., the metaphor for the two nuclear bombs that ravaged Japan less than a decade earlier.  The only Godzilla movie to ever be nominated for a best picture (I think, if I recall correctly), this was done right.  Godzilla was bad, bad, bad, in the best of ways, on both a metaphorical and a guy-in-a-suit-stomping-models sense, but what always got me, even as a kid, was the tortured scientist rocking an eye patch, whose “oxygen destroyer” chemical ultimately slays the dragon.  He agonizes over the horror of his discovery – another nod to the atom bomb – as well as losing beautiful Emiko to Ogata, and his sacrifice at the film’s conclusion has now entered the heart of the next generation – Little One cried out, “Why did he have to die!!!”

Later I had the misfortune to watch Skyline.  A few years ago my buddy and I considered seeing it in the theaters … for about a minute, maybe two.  Decided against it, and it now I realize how good a decision it was.  For I will never have those ninety minutes back.  Lost, into the void of time …

Well … it wasn’t that bad.  Oh, yeah, bad it was, but more in a lame kinda “why bother?” way.  There was potential, if only in the fact that there were elements of at least half-a-dozen better SF movies stolen within it.  Douche-y LA types wake up hungover on the morning of an alien invasion: falling, hypnotic blue lights turn the victims into obedient zombies – then suck them straight up into the air to awaiting Independence Day spaceships – for their BRAINS!!! 

The first 45 minutes are actually watchable, if only for a what-would-I-do-in-their-shoes type thing and the whole what’s-a-going-on-here? thing.  But once the reveals are all revealed (the aliens, their penchant for brains, their gravity-defying spaceships, etc), it’s all tiresome chases and explosions.  And nothing makes sense once it’s all over and you start thinking about it.  No one reacts the way they would in real life, people do stupid things, nuclear explosions don’t knock over high-rise apartment buildings, etc, etc, etc. 

(By the way, those movies ripped off by Skyline include, but are not limited to, War of the Worlds, Independence Day, Resident Evil, Fire in the Sky, Battle: Los Angeles, one of the Matrix sequels, Cloverfield …)

Bottom line:

The Green Slime – eh, meh, C for nostalgia’s sake

Godzilla, King of the Monsters – A, still holds up from my youth

Skyline – C (it’s an average: B first half, D last half)