A cast of thousands! This spoof of 1950s science fiction movies should have been a huge hit, what with its many allusions, in-jokes, and contemporary references -- not to mention that cast: Jack Nicholson (in two roles) through Sylvia Sidney and who knows who else? The Martians are short green creatures with huge heads and they come to earth in flying saucers, claiming "We come in peace," then they mow everyone down with ray guns and blow up national monuments and destroy the world's governments.
Big wigs like President Nicholson and the blustering general Rod Steiger perish in Washington, while in Las Vegas it is discovered that senile Sylvia Sidney's favorite music -- a parody of Slim Whitman's early 1950s hit, "Indian Love Song," turns the invaders' monstrous brains to jelly. The planet is saved. A handful of heroic survivors are awarded medals in the ruins of Washington by Natalie Portman as the president's daughter while a mariachi band, the only musicians left alive, play the national anthem.
The iconography of the alien ships and their exploits are directly derived from "Earth Versus The Flying Saucers." They perform variations of some of the same tricks, like knocking over the Washington Monument. But new tricks are added. They recarve the faces on Mount Rushmore and bestow Martian features on them.
There are wise cracks aplenty. Danny DeVito approaches an alien and shouts, "Wait a minute. I'm a lawyer. You want to conquer the earth, you need lawyers, right?" As the president, Nicholson makes a tear-jerking speech to the Martians about joining forces in friendship. He winds up his pitch with, "Why can't we all just get along," the most famous statement to emerge from the Rodney King business of the early 90s. And Nicholson, in his other, Las Vegas, persona, is making a pitch to some investors to build more hotels. "After all, the Martians come here, they gotta stay someplace, don't they?" The investors include only Texans, Arabs, and Japanese.
I'm afraid I didn't find it at all funny. Maybe because so much of the film was a special effects charivari focused on death and destruction. One loud mouth vaporized might be funny. Repeated vaporizations, running into the dozens, are no longer amusing. As the president, Nicholson isn't vaporized. Instead he shakes an alien hand, the hand detaches itself, slips around into his back, and a cone-like object punctures Nicholson's chest and extends a few feet outward before Nicholson drops dead. This is funny? To me, it seemed like an excuse for overblown digitalization, like the blowing up of cities.
My disappointment might have something to do with a personal quirk too. I've always found clowns to be more disturbing than funny. They strike me as human beings with gross physical deformities and a bizarre taste in garments and accessories. But, then, I don't know. I enjoy Monty Python, Mel Brooks, and many of the other send ups of genre movies. I even liked Slim Whitman when I was a kid.
Well, what can I say? Try it. Maybe you'll like it. I didn't.
Big wigs like President Nicholson and the blustering general Rod Steiger perish in Washington, while in Las Vegas it is discovered that senile Sylvia Sidney's favorite music -- a parody of Slim Whitman's early 1950s hit, "Indian Love Song," turns the invaders' monstrous brains to jelly. The planet is saved. A handful of heroic survivors are awarded medals in the ruins of Washington by Natalie Portman as the president's daughter while a mariachi band, the only musicians left alive, play the national anthem.
The iconography of the alien ships and their exploits are directly derived from "Earth Versus The Flying Saucers." They perform variations of some of the same tricks, like knocking over the Washington Monument. But new tricks are added. They recarve the faces on Mount Rushmore and bestow Martian features on them.
There are wise cracks aplenty. Danny DeVito approaches an alien and shouts, "Wait a minute. I'm a lawyer. You want to conquer the earth, you need lawyers, right?" As the president, Nicholson makes a tear-jerking speech to the Martians about joining forces in friendship. He winds up his pitch with, "Why can't we all just get along," the most famous statement to emerge from the Rodney King business of the early 90s. And Nicholson, in his other, Las Vegas, persona, is making a pitch to some investors to build more hotels. "After all, the Martians come here, they gotta stay someplace, don't they?" The investors include only Texans, Arabs, and Japanese.
I'm afraid I didn't find it at all funny. Maybe because so much of the film was a special effects charivari focused on death and destruction. One loud mouth vaporized might be funny. Repeated vaporizations, running into the dozens, are no longer amusing. As the president, Nicholson isn't vaporized. Instead he shakes an alien hand, the hand detaches itself, slips around into his back, and a cone-like object punctures Nicholson's chest and extends a few feet outward before Nicholson drops dead. This is funny? To me, it seemed like an excuse for overblown digitalization, like the blowing up of cities.
My disappointment might have something to do with a personal quirk too. I've always found clowns to be more disturbing than funny. They strike me as human beings with gross physical deformities and a bizarre taste in garments and accessories. But, then, I don't know. I enjoy Monty Python, Mel Brooks, and many of the other send ups of genre movies. I even liked Slim Whitman when I was a kid.
Well, what can I say? Try it. Maybe you'll like it. I didn't.