Reviews

First I read through all the 43 previous reviews to see if anyone saw the same things I saw in this movie. I should say that I had the privilege of seeing the film in all its big-screen glory at the Stanford Theatre in Palo Alto, with a live audience who laughed heartily. It was a hard film to watch for someone who has spent too much time in too many courtrooms watching too much injustice, but two things shocked me, though, and the second made sense of the first. Two reviewers did mention what's on my mind, but only part of it. The first shocking thing was that I had to agree with reviewer "Joey the Brit" when he wrote about actor Rex Ingram's "disproportionate, prominent" grieving when his employer, played by Ronald Colman, shaved off his beard. Colman, a law professor, performed this act because, after he had admitted to his landlady and housekeeper Jean Arthur that he had grown the beard to hide his youth while an underage student in law school, she accused him of hiding behind it. Ingram's reaction is truly "disproportionate." The camera focuses on Ingram's face for perhaps a full minute. The black man's face fills the screen as he grieves, and finally a tear runs down his face. It was so out of place, so prolonged, this scene! Why? As soon as Ingram arrives he is full of deference with dignity. His character has been with his employer for 15 years, during all of which time the boss has had the beard. But to grieve for a beard! I forgot my dumbfounded reaction as the plot moved forward, but I watched "Tilney," Ingram's character as the professor's "man," more carefully. The second shock has to do with what reviewer "mitchmcc" wrote, that he/she "would bet that the script was written by a 'progressive,' and that 'social justice' was the real goal here." Given that one of the screenplay writers was blacklisted in the 1950s, that's probably not far from the mark. It wasn't until the last courtroom scene, when the lynch mob bashes their way into the Hall of Justice, that I suddenly understood the significance of Ingram's reaction. It wasn't trivial. I had just been reading about how, in 1936, yet another attempt had been made to pass anti-lynching legislation. It was the best hope of passage there had been since this type of legislation had first been introduced following the Civil War, but many experts blame its failure to pass on President Roosevelt's failure to support the bill. Although it isn't clear to me that Roosevelt's support at that time would have helped to pass it or could have kept it from being repealed by a hostile Supreme Court, it is clear to me that no anti-lynching legislation had been passed by 1942, when this film was released. No such legislation was ever passed. And when I saw that rope in the hands of the lynch mob I knew why Ingram had been weeping. It wasn't for any beard. It was for the one black man or more lynched every month around that time. It may be only a subtext, but Ingram's screen-filling, weeping face made it a powerful one.

This is amazing. I had avoided seeing this movie because it's really bad. But badness, to paraphrase Mae West, has nothing to do with it. I was stunned to see the extent to which Travolta, as Terl, and his fellow "Psychlos" portray Scientology management, using their standard "tech"--"acceptable truth," blackmail, etc.--as villains. The "Psychlos" are "head and shoulders" above the "man animals" they dominate, looking down on them just as scientologists (while they are held captive by the cult) look down on the rest of humanity. Eventually, of course, this attitude is fatal, or worse. Consider Terl at the end, his right arm blown off, surrounded by all the gold of Fort Knox, which, as the Christian Bible says, "can avail him nothing."

Notice the double meaning of "blow" in Scientology jargon. To "blow" is to abandon one's post or escape from Scientology. So when the "man-animals" "blow the dome," the double meaning is to escape from the controlled atmosphere in which scientologists (like "Truman" in another movie) are kept.

It is important that the man hero Goodboy learns the Psychlos' language. This is the first step toward destroying them. My thought is, is it possible that Hubbard, who was reportedly held captive by his own followers (including the current head of Scientology, David Miscavige) was giving humankind the keys to destroying the organization he had built and ruled with an iron fist? He had tried to make his son L. Ron Hubbard, Jr., into a clone of himself, to carry on the dynasty, but when he demanded of Junior that he get daddy an H-bomb (true!), that was the last straw, and Junior defected and changed his name. So there's Hubbard. His wife Mary Sue had been convicted and jailed for crimes he was also wanted for (spying and infiltration of the US government--1978--look it up). One of his children, Quentin, was a homosexual (a very bad thing to be in Scientology) who "committed suicide" following the suspicious death of his lover. Hubbard's "church" was out of control. Why should he enrich strangers? Many say that Hubbard believed he would come back and so he wanted the organization there when he returned. I say no. He was too cynical for that. I say he wrote "Battlefield Earth" (admittedly the book, not the movie, and he may not have written it himself or at least not all of it) as a scorched-earth effort, to destroy what he had built.

Here's what happens--again--warning--warning--spoiler: a rebellious "man-animal" (Johnny Goodboy) is chosen by Terl to learn to mine an area Psychlos can't enter due to radiation they can't stand. In order to do this, he has to learn Psychlo language, recapitulate lost human learning, and learn to use Psychlo technology ("tech" in scientologese), including flying their spacecraft. When he discovers he can't get "leverage" (blackmail, extortion) over Terl because, as Psychlo head of security (perhaps head of the Office of Special Affairs, the terrorist wing of the "church"?) Terl is too clever and powerful, Goodboy pretends to be mining the gold (like a good boy), while he plots and carries out a rebellion with the help of other humans and the (get this!) Denver Public Library. (The books--although not the librarians--are still there.)

Using desperate, even suicidal measures, Goodboy takes advantage of Terl's fatal underestimation of the human species. He leads a rebellion of the humans in the artificial atmosphere of the dome built by the Psychlos. The captive humans "blow" the dome. They then blow up the Psychlo planet, using the Psychlos' own teleportation device. At the end Terl, probably like Hubbard, is missing his right arm (a little metaphor there?), is caged and surrounded by all the gold of Ft. Knox--out of his reach or use. OK, that was learn the language, learn the "tech," and use it to "blow." Hmm. Good advice. Warning--don't buy this video or DVD or however it's sold. Travolta and any other scientologists associated with this movie donate their money to continue the "work" of the "church," which consists of recruiting people to mine the gold, and persecuting those who refuse to help mine the gold, especially those who try to do what Hubbard does in his story--expose Scientology for what it is.

Incidentally, I know it's supposed to be funny. But scientologists are not allowed to have a sense of humor, so every time the Psychlos laugh (and the man animals don't laugh--ever) it's at someone's suffering. For example: Terl's assistant sees that some man animals have been trapped at the edge of a precipice. So he deduces that they can fly. Terl argues with him on this point. Terl wins when he picks up a man by his throat (his usual means of handling us), holds him for a moment over the gorge, then lets go. As they watch the screaming descent of the person, Terl says, "See? Man animals can't fly! HAHAHAHAHAHhahahahahaha." That's how funny it is. And then there's the tongue scene. OK I won't spoil that part for you.