Just the Good Stuff

Originally published on 411Mania.com

Misunderstood Masterpieces: Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace

… or, An Apology For Jar Jar Binks

Please forgive me … I have the feeling this is going to be a long one.

I have a confession to make. I know I’ve said, on occasion, that I really don’t like science fiction. It’s dull, it’s repetitive, and it’s usually plot-less messes polished up with magnificent special effects. You’d never guess that my favorite movie is Star Wars. For those of you who need things in the current system, Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope. Before I even saw the movie, I had the toys, and the toys were awesome for the time. Yes, now we realize that the first Han Solo kind of looks like George Harrison and the lightsabres that pushed out of their hands kind of looked like inflated condoms. Who cares? They were still cool for the day. I can’t quite remember when I first saw the movie on the big screen; it was probably one of the late-‘70s re-releases. From then on, I was hooked. Empire, Jedi … saw them. Every time any of them were on television, I watched them. I damn near have the first film memorized. The more I watch it, the more I realize just how much is packed into that one movie. It was part samurai movie, part Western, part medieval romance, and part ‘50s sci-fi serial. And it was utter and complete genius.

Then nothing new happened for nearly 15 years. I grew up, but my love never subsided. One day in college my friends and I went to see Mars Attacks! While that was a strangely enjoyable little film, it wasn’t the highlight of my movie-going experience that night. Before the film … the trailers. After a few uneventful spots, the familiar 20^th Century Fox logo came up … followed by the Lucasfilm Ltd. logo. You could sense that every person in that theater knew what was coming as there was complete silence. And then we saw the little television screen. You see, the 20^th anniversary of the original film was coming up, and Lucas had a re-release planned. Not just any re-release, but the Special Edition. Stuff was added, the print was restored, it was all good. It really didn’t matter in the long run; what was most important was that it was Star Wars back on the big screen where it belonged. I saw the Special Edition in the theater on February 15, 1997, and I have to say that it was (as I expected) a near-religious experience. I guess it also goes to show how my Valentine’s Days were back in college.

It had long been rumored that the Star Wars series was to entail nine films, released like a Greek epic: first the middle, then the beginning, and then the end. Later, realizing the massive undertaking nine films would be, George Lucas, the creator of the (Star Wars) universe, pared the series down to six films: the original trilogy and a trilogy of prequels. The first of these films was finally set for release in 1999. As word of the casting leaked out, the curiosity of moviegoers far and wide was piqued. Oskar Schindler? The guy from Trainspotting? The little girl from The Professional? Expectations were running high for the success of the film; expectations so high, in fact, that one fan said, “Jesus Christ himself would have to walk out of the screen.” Little did he know then … but I’m getting ahead of myself. The film itself, Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace, ended up being less of a blockbuster than was expected (then again, no movie could live up to those expectations … except for that damned ship movie) and was recently named the worst sequel ever made. How could this happen? How could a film franchise so deeply revered as this fall on such hard times and instill such disillusionment in its fanbase? We shall see …

First things first, though: John L. Williams, I bow to you, good sir. Even though he’s been maligned as a Brahms-wannabe, his fanfare to open the Star Wars films still elicits a chill every time I hear it. And don’t even get me started about the “Imperial March.” We get the usual scroll, explaining to us just what’s going on before the film started. There’s nothing like getting rid of the need for flashbacks; they just take up too much time anyway. It seems that, due to taxation (although WITH representation), the Trade Federation has blockaded the peaceful planet of Naboo … for reasons not fully explained. It’s almost like if the U.S. had a trade dispute with Japan and decided to blockade Haiti. It really doesn’t make much sense. And just who is this evil Trade Federation? The Neimoidians, also known as the “aliens from the planet Charlie Chan.” For some (again) unknown reason, the Trade Federation representatives sound like they should be taking orders for General Tso’s Chicken. Unfortunately, this wouldn’t be the last bizarre choice of characterization in the film.

Anyway, to help with breaking up this senseless blockade, the Republic sends to ambassadors, who just happen to come on a ship badly in need of muffler work. These aren’t your ordinary sash-wearing bureaucrats, however; these ambassadors are Qui-Gon Jinn (Liam Neeson) and Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) … two Jedi! While Qui-Gon takes time to lecture his young apprentice, there are conspiracies afoot as the Neimoidians piss off some holographic figure. Something tells me that holographic guy’s trouble. Just a hunch. The Jedi are ambushed, but they quickly dispatch a bunch of flimsy battle droids. To get at the bridge of the ship, Qui-Gon decides to shove his lightsabre into a door and start melting it! For all you skeptics out there, yes, this is physically possible and, no, I don’t feel like explaining it. Some tougher droids show up and the Jedi hightail it out of there. Wimps. Now cocky with their Jedi-foiling prowess, the Neimoidians hit on young Amidala (Natalie Portman), Queen of the Naboo. Uh, guys … have you ever heard the word “jailbait”? I guess she’s the kind of girl because of whom statutory rape laws were invented. Amidala is disinterested, in both the Neimoidians’ advances and a war as well. Good for her.

Down on Naboo, the dejected Neimoidians practice some extreme deforestation while Qui-Gon meets a lovable life form named Stepin Fechit … I mean “Jar Jar Binks” (Ahmed Best). So now we have some aliens that sound stereotypically Asian and another alien that sounds like something from a 1920s minstrel show. Good going, George. At least in the first movies you took advantage of subtitling and translator droids. Jabba the Hutt never sounded like a goomba gangster and the films were much better for it. It seems that Jar Jar is the Salman Rushdie of the Gungan world as he’s been exiled. Of course, the Jedi strong-arm him into going back to where he was exiled. That’s awfully nice of them. Don’t want Jar Jar to get killed or anything like that by returning. Anyhow, they all go swimming down to the Gungan city to meet with Boss Nass (Brian Blessed), leader of the Gungans and a cross between Peter Ustinov and a frog. The Boss tells them all to get lost through the planetary core, so they grab a ride on a jellyfish and get moving. While Jar Jar confesses his indiscretions, we’re treated to an episode of “When Iron Chef Ingredients Attack!” as various bizarre sea creatures attack the jellyfish-ship. Jar Jar freaks out and Qui-Gon uses a nerve-pinch on him. So the Jedi became the Vulcans?

Meanwhile, the Trade Federation invades Paris … I mean, Naboo. Then again, I might not be wrong, as Queen Amidala has a soft spot for haute couture. Jedi Knight Jon-Pol Gawtiae? It can happen. Luckily for the fashion-conscious queen, the Jedi come to the rescue and we have a (sort-of) JAILBREAK! Judas Priest, yada yada. Although we do learn here that battle droids have a sense of humor. Who would’ve thought! They’ll be headlining a club in the Catskills in a few weeks. The heroes escape the blockade, the film introduces loveable droid R2-D2, and they have to make an emergency landing on Tattooine. You know, there’s something to be said about convenient coincidences. The escape of the Jedi and the queen ticks of the holographic guy, who’s named Darth Sidious (Ian McDiarmid), so he sends out HIS young apprentice, leering sinister guy Darth Maul (Ray Park). This, rightfully so, freaks out the Neimoidians. Oops. Oh … a word on Mr. McDiarmid for a moment. When I found out they were using the same actor to play the Palpatine/Sidious role as in Return of the Jedi, I wondered if he would live long enough to make it through production of all three new films. The actor behind the Emperor’s make-up had to be old, for sure. Do you know how old Ian McDiarmid was when Return of the Jedi was released? 37. Kind of puts things in perspective, doesn’t it? Or not.

Queen Amidala’s ship, like the Jedi’s before it, needs some engine work, so they head down to Mos Espa on the lovely little twin-sunned desert planet of Tattooine for some parts. Gee whiz … it looks like Pakistan! We love Pakistan! There, they meet with the Toydarian answer to the Pep Boys, Watto (Andrew Secombe). Of course, the cheap and wily Watto speaks with a heavy Yiddish accent. Nope … not stereotypical at all. There’s also a young boy named Anakin Skywalker (Jake Lloyd). He’s a slave, but he’s optimistic about it. He’s also a 10-year-old horndog, as he immediately starts flirting with Padmé, Queen Amidala’s handmaiden and representative along for the trip. He’s also snotty, testy, and annoying and says “Yippee!” a lot as well. What a loveable scamp! In town, Jar Jar and R2-D2 whine and then Jar Jar ticks off a Dug named Sebulba. Hmmm … “A Dug Named Sebulba” … sounds like a ‘50s sitcom to me! Anyway, it’s Anakin to the rescue as he saves Jar Jar from a whuppin’, talks far too fast, and then some old lady tells him to go home.

A storm’s a’brewin’, so Anakin brings his newfound “friends” home with him. He’s just such a friendly kid. Too bad he’s a little grating on the nerves. While at the casa di Skywalker, Anakin again hits on Padmé, this time showing off his skeletal C-3PO (Anthony Daniels). I guess that’s the Tattooine version of showing someone your etchings. We’re also introduced to Anakin’s impossibly Swedish mom, Shmi (Pernilla August). I wonder if she knows Max von Sydow. The impossibly wise (and fairly ingratiating) Anakin later figures out that Qui-Gon is a Jedi. What a smartypants! He then starts ordering people around. Pushy little bastard. I bet he always gets his way just because he’s cute. And there’s more to the “little bastard” part than just the insult, as it turns out that Anakin, who possesses super-human reflexes, isn’t just a Jedi in disguise, but just the Judeo-Christian Messiah spawned from a virgin birth. Thanks, George … I didn’t know we were going the evangelical route.

Anyway, Anakin has a little play-date with his other friends, as he shows off his pod-racer. He really likes showing off, doesn’t he? Also, how are there orthodontists on Tattooine? One of Anakin’s friends has braces! Oops. Oh … we also get some slapstick inspired fun with Jar Jar Binks. Later, at the Skywalker ranch, Qui-Gon takes a blood sample from Anakin to test his “midichlorians.” Midichlorians? Midichlorians! What is this? It sounds vaguely like something from the structure of a cell. Oh wait … those are mitochondria. Nevermind. It seems that Anakin is going to race his pod, so Qui-Gon makes a few friendly wagers with Watto, who’s not only cheap but addicted to gambling as well. Not … at … all … stereotypical. Ahem.

Oh, and if you were ever wondering if George Lucas pays attention to Kevin Smith movies, the proof is right here. You see, the name of the model of Queen Amidala’s ship is a Nubian. If you’ve seen it, back in Chasing Amy, Banky Edwards (Jason Lee) asks Hooper X (Dwight Ewell), while discussing Darth Vader of all characters, “What’s a Nubian?” The answer, therefore: Queen Amidala’s ship. And now you know … and knowing is half the battle.

And now it’s time for Ben-Hur in Space, also known as the Boonta Eve pod race. For our listening pleasure, we have a two-headed announcer, Fode (Scott Capurro) and Beed (Greg Proops). Too bad Fode wasn’t Tony Slattery; then we could’ve been treated to “Who’s Bantha Is It Anyway?” Or not. We also get a guest appearance from our good pal Jabba the Hutt. And hey look! There’s Mrs. Jabba … or is it Mrs. Hutt. It can be all so confusing, especially since Hutts are supposedly asexual. That could very well be Mr. Hutt, which would explain why Jabba wanted Han Solo so badly. Then again, he also got Princess Leia. He’s very open-minded like that, I guess. The event is very reminiscent of a NASCAR race as the redneck Tusken Raiders camp out on the infield and cause trouble. That’ll learn that Jeff Gordon, Cletus. Also, why is there a need for pit stops when the race is only a few laps long? I’m just wondering.

As expected, Anakin wins the race and everyone immediately reads way too much into his victory. I mean, it’s not like the American hockey team beat the Soviet Union or anything like that. And even then people read too much into that! The only real effects of Anakin’s checkered flag are that he’s free and the heroes get the parts they need. You’d think that a lifelong slave would be happy to be free, but instead Anakin whines and complains and suffers from separation anxiety. Will he ever stop? I guess Padmé isn’t around to shut him up. We get a droid’s-eye-view as Anakin says farewell to C-3PO while we also learn that Darth Maul has one sweet ride. He shows up to give Qui-Gon a little trouble, but the Jedi escapes anyway. Oh well. Anakin finally meets Obi-Wan and the audience is all like “Awwwww!” while Qui-Gon is all like “Yeah, I know he’s annoying … I’m sorry.” Even in space Anakin is feeling his pre-pubescent hormones as he yet again hits on Padmé, with the usual results. Enough already, kid! Maybe she wants someone a little older, with a Corellian Corvette and a part-time job.

Are you in the mood for political discussion? Good, because that’s what you’re going to get down on Coruscant! Immediately after landing, the heroes meet with Senator Palpatine (McDiarmid) and Chancellor Valorum (Terence Stamp). While Amidala and the politicians go off to discuss things, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan meet with … the Jedi Council! Because you and I know they’re cool. How could they not be, when the let Samuel L. Jackson be a Jedi, and he’s the epitome of cool? I thought so. Although what’s not cool is the really ugly new Yoda (Frank Oz) puppet. Yick! You see, while producing this film, Lucas decided to do everything in-house, without outside involvement. Therefore, instead of using the old Henson-created puppet for Yoda, the Lucasfilm people made a vastly inferior puppet of their own. Good thing for CGI, because otherwise Yoda would’ve looked just as nasty in Attack of the Clones. They discuss just whom Darth Maul is in cahoots with as well as Jedi training for young Skywalker. Meanwhile, Anakin is trying to hook up one more time with Padmé before he starts his training, which I guess is like a guy getting a hooker the day before he goes to the seminary to join the priesthood.

Meanwhile, we get more politicky goodness as the Senate debates whether or not an army of robots is invading Naboo. Honestly, who would make something like that up? I know I wouldn’t … that’d just be wrong. Also, Palpatine seemingly flirts with Amidala. It’s either one of his sinister machinations or he’s a pervert. Or both. Back at the Jedi Temple, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan have a chat while Anakin takes one of those parapsychology tests like from the beginning of Ghostbusters. Sadly, there are no electric shocks this time. Maybe then Jake Lloyd would have to act. Yoda can sense much fear in him; probably it’s because Anakin has to look at an ugly, crotchety puppet. Of course Yoda knows that Anakin thinks he’s a crotchety, ugly puppet, so Anakin gets rejected and Qui-Gon gets dejected. You can tell because he says “mindful” about 80 billion times. Or so. Elsewhere, proving what I theorized before, Palpatine entreats Amidala to stay on Coruscant when she demands to return to Naboo. He’s a sick one, he is. I mean, Amidala’s somewhat attractive and all, if you can get past the kabuki makeup, but she’s still technically “jailbait.” Then again, can a queen be “jailbait”? She is the queen, after all. So many questions!

Back on Naboo, Amidala tells Jar Jar that he is to be the key to victory, so he immediately takes the group on a tour of the Amazon rainforest. You can tell it’s the Amazon because there are what seem to be giant Olmec heads lying around everywhere. They’re so common, I even have one in my basement. Amidala kisses some Boss Nass ass to try to get the Gungans’ help in defeating the Trade Federation and then Padmé does the same thing. Because, it turns out that Amidala is Padmé … or Padmé is Amidala. It’s all so confusing. Just remember that the one that’s Natalie Portman, that’s Amidala … and Padmé. Dammit. Anyway, it’s not much of a well-kept secret and the least-astute viewer should be able to pick up on it. But if not, it’s explained to you right there. You’re welcome. In one of those tremendous faults of logic in the name of progressing the plot (like allowing Gord inside a hospital), Boss Nass makes Jar Jar a general. Because everyone wants an inept exile to become a high-ranking military official. Then again, it sounds like the recent history of most Third World nations.

And, speaking of which, it’s time for a fight! You can tell because the Gungans play digiredoos while marching through the jungles. Maybe they’re going off to fight Men at Work. Or Kajagoogoo. We’ll see if they’re “Too Shy” to fight! I’m sorry … that was bad. It’s pretty much the standard story here as pilots take off, the Gungans fight the droids, and Darth Maul is a badass. Anakin, wanting to be a badass rulebreaker just like Darth Maul, boosts a starfighter. Now he’s annoying, pushy, and guilty of grand theft starfighter. While Amidala breaks into her own throne room, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon fight Darth Maul, Qui-Gon meditates, and then gets killed. Just remember kids, if you have to choose between Tai Chi and a lightsabre … TAKE THE LIGHTSABRE! I cannot stress that enough. Seemingly, everyone gets captured, but it’s only a momentary ruse to build up suspense as Amidala breaks free, Anakin blows up the ship, and Obi-Wan slices Darth Maul like a fine Virginia ham. Mmmm … ham. Oh, Qui-Gon and Francisco Franco are still dead. Everything (except the whole Qui-Gon dying bit) resolves nicely so we have a parade to celebrate the end of the movie! Yay! Queen Amidala gives Boss Nass the big sparking ball of peace (available at Spencer Gifts, $49.95) and John L. Williams gives us an enchanting lullaby. Ah, that phantom was so menacing, wasn’t it?

You know something? This movie isn’t half as bad as everyone makes it out to be. Yes, it does have its flaws; that I’ll admit. Watto, the Neimoidians, and Jar Jar all suffer from unfortunate accents and characterizations. Other than Watto, however, the Trade Federation and especially Jar Jar Binks play critical roles in the plot of Attack of the Clones. There’s also the terribly wooden acting … that has been a criticism of George Lucas’ style long before this film. The only reason a lot of people forget this is because Harrison Ford’s Han Solo was just so damned cool. Everyone else? Pretty much stiff as a board, for the most part. And all speaking oddly clipped English as well. Other than minor flaws, though, two major flaws are what bring this film down considerably:

1) Jake Lloyd as Anakin Skywalker. I’m terribly sorry if I sound harsh, but Lloyd’s performance is awful. It lacks something that was sorely needed for a character that would turn from an altruistic young boy into the most evil being in the galaxy: subtlety. Everything Anakin says is loud and flat, with absolutely no range of emotion. It’s almost as if he’s screaming for attention even as everyone is watching him. He lacks nuance or believability. I know that’s picking nits in a science-fiction movie, which are not necessarily known as bastions of great acting, but we needed to believe that this boy had the potential, however slim, to become Darth Vader somewhere in the future, and it just didn’t happen.

2) Context. This is the film’s greatest flaw. We all knew where the trilogy of prequels was leading to, and therefore we had expectations of how to get there. When The Phantom Menace diverged from those expectations, it was as if Holy Hell had been unleashed. Qui-Gon Jinn? Naboo? Midichlorians!?! VIRGIN BIRTH!?! This was not the prequel that we were prepared for or expecting. What we forgot to realize was that, to reach the Star Wars universe we knew, there had to be a foundation set to either be built up (the Sith, the Trade Federation, Chancellor Palpatine) or torn down (the Republic, the Jedi, probably 80-90% of Jedi dogma in The Phantom Menace). Did we know at that time that Jar Jar Binks would later become the senator whose actions would lead to the start of the Clone War? No. At the time he was just an insulting minstrel caricature with an unbelievable amount of naïveté. Did we know the Trade Federation would become one of the major impetuses of those same Clone Wars? No. Back in 1999, they were just the aliens from the planet Charlie Chan. The release of Attack of the Clones has made The Phantom Menace retroactively better, as the loose pieces of the bridge between The Phantom Menace and the first trilogy are now beginning to fall into place. Will the release of Episode III in 2005 in turn improve The Phantom Menace as well? Only time will tell.

I bet you’re wondering if I know what’s going to happen in the next film. Let’s just say I have ideas, but I have no expectations. And thanks for hearing my confession.

(Originally published on 411Mania.com.)

… or, Wait a Minute, Mister Postman, Do I Really Have to Watch This?

Thank you for rejoining our epic, two-part Misunderstood Masterpieces Hall of Fame induction, already in progress …

After the abject failure that was Waterworld, many in Hollywood prognosticated that Kevin Costner would never work again. The horrid critical and box-office responses to the film left his career like a fish out of water, gasping for air – and pun most definitely intended. Wisely, Costner laid low for a while, biding his time before attempting a triumphant resurgence back into Hollywood. The vehicle for his reconquest came around a year after the release of Waterworld and it definitely played to Costner’s strong suits: in the vein of Bull Durham, this was another quirky romantic sports comedy. The film in question: 1996’s Tin Cup. Costner, alongside Cheech Marin and middle-aged-HOT CHICK Rene Russo (who, oddly enough, starred in the very funny riding-on-the-coattails-of-Bull Durham baseball flick Major League), built a believable and likable little tale around the sport of golf. The film was a success at the cinema and marked Costner’s return to bankability. Of course, this would be short-lived, as somewhere along the line someone decided that the next step in Kevin Costner’s career resurrection would be attempting the same formula as Waterworld, just on land instead of a giant ocean. Because that was the biggest problem with that film: all the water. And so, from the deepest, darkest pit of Hollywood’s psyche, The Postman was born … and I give that to you now.

It’s 2013 and Kevin Costner wanders through a desert. Simultaneously, some chick does an expository voice-over and lions eat stuff … in the desert. And then it rains. In the middle of the desert, Costner reads a paper and stands on an old billboard. In the background, a radio broadcast plays even though there are no radios to be seen. Great; two minutes in and already we’ve established that the hero is schizophrenic. Proving my theory, Costner then talks to his ass – his mule, people – and they drink some water together. At an abandoned gas station in the middle of the ubiquitous desert, Costner has flashbacks. He finds an old television and an old “TV Guide”; I never though there could be product placement in a post-apocalyptic movie. I guess I was wrong then. While sitting in front of the inoperative TV, Costner has dreams of “Monday Night Football” and I wonder just how much product placement is in this movie. Later, he breaks open a cigarette machine (MORE product placement!) and celebrates his good fortune. So the future is one giant prison, then?

The next day, Costner has another tête-à-tête with his ass. Then, in an unspecified town, he performs Macbeth … badly. There’s a bunch of kids there and a crazy lady at the piano, so they’re not likely to notice him butchering the “tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow” speech. Feh … charlatan. After the performance, some guy heckles Costner’s talents as a thespian; Costner, ever classy, threatens violence in return. Moments later, the Soviet-influenced bad guys show up. We can tell they’re the bad guys because everyone in the random town is afraid for no particular reason. It seems that instead of supplies or food, General Bethlehem (Will Patton) wants recruits – white recruits, specifically. That shouldn’t be a problem, though, as there’s nary a minority to be found. After a convoluted series of events involving a kid with Down’s Syndrome, the bad guys discover Costner, knock him out, and take him prisoner.

At the bad guys’ headquarters, which looks like nothing more than an abandoned mill, women cook and launder red flags and orange jumpsuits. Oh, so now we’re in the Russian prison now? I bet Costner wishes he still had the cigarettes; they’d come in handy when he needs to bribe the screws. While two guys fight Costner’s ass, General Bethlehem gives the assembled recruits a pep talk. He inquires about Costner’s former profession and then quotes Julius Caesar. Costner, remarkably literate for a post-apocalyptic hero, counters with a line from Hamlet. General Bethlehem, not to be out done, responds to Costner’s line with an obscure bit of Henry V … to which Costner replies with the opening of Richard III. Oddly enough, Othello is watching the proceedings. Confused? This comes from the strange-but-true coincidence file: one of the actors in this scene, Brian Anthony Wilson, I saw a few years ago as Othello at the Philadelphia Shakespeare Festival performance of that play. Freaky, huh? I thought so too. Anyway, after finding himself outwitted by Kevin Costner (because the character, like in Waterworld, has no name otherwise), he pummels the Academy Award-winning actor/director. I guess that’s in lieu of another pep talk … call it “forcible motivation.” Either that, or he really hated American Flyers.

That evening, a bloodied Costner hallucinates a scene from The Sound of Music being played outside of the camp; he then chats a bit with Othello. The next day, they all start basic training with a brisk run through the unforgiving desert. Meanwhile, I wonder just where R. Lee Ermey is when you need him. After the run, because he came in last, Giovanni Ribisi doesn’t get any dinner … which just happens to be made from Costner’s ass. Which means, conveniently, if anyone complains that it “tastes like ass,” the reply can just be “yes.” Ribisi, because he’s not too bright, freaks out from the hunger; Costner, generous actor that he is, gives him his food, probably just to shut him up. Outside the camp, some guy in a shack starts projecting Universal Soldier for the amassed bad guys and their significant others. The audience rebels and starts pelting the shack with rocks until the guy puts on The Sound of Music. So they’re evil, but with a soft side?

The day after, the general kills a guy for losing at a game of musical chairs. He also fulfills the tyrannical-bad-guy-we-all-should-hate requirement of using the line “Mercy is for the weak.” And here I always thought that the quality of mercy is not strain’d; Portia would so not be proud. After the swift execution of, well, an execution, the main henchman intimidates Costner and then sees the moor in Othello. Later that day, in a very Hitler-esque moment, the general paints while chatting with Costner. It seems that there is a very valid reason behind his immortal rage: he used to sell copiers. Wow … that makes me look at the Xerox man in an entirely different light. Remind me to give him a wide berth from now on. The general, since he is urbane in addition to being megalomaniacal, sees the potential in Costner; he then sends him away and orders a book burning. Perhaps next he’ll point a covetous eye toward the Sudetenland.

That night, Costner, Othello, and Ribisi plot an escape; meanwhile, some John Wayne movie artfully segues into the next day. During a jog, Costner is enlisted to go into the woods and hunt a lion with a knife. During his trek, he finds a dead bad guy and carries him back to the troops. On the way, while crossing a bridge, he has the wise idea to just fall through to the river below to escape his oppressors. Othello and Ribisi follow under the guise of capturing the refugee. Ribisi catches up with Costner and decides to turn him in, so Costner stabs him. Wow … he’s REALLY heroic. And that’s REALLY sarcastic. Othello catches up with Costner, but so does the main henchman. Othello, probably still smarting from the racial epithet, hits the henchman in the arm with a knife, but gets shot to death for his troubles. Then, just because, the henchman gets eaten by a lion and Costner escapes to safety … in the rain. John Cusack would be proud.

Later, Costner stumbles around the woods dramatically until he comes upon an old United States Postal Service truck. He climbs in and has a chat with the skeleton driver; he then lights up a Zippo and drinks some liquor out of a flask. Afterwards, just to amuse himself, Costner reads mail to the skeleton driver; the skeleton driver, sadly, doesn’t respond. He’s a bad actor. In one of the letters, Costner finds a tooth, which makes him inspired for no particular reason. The next day, he buries the skeleton and goes off to deliver the mail to Pineview, Oregon. The town guards give him a bit of trouble, but he gains entrance by harnessing the awesome power of bureaucracy. Too bad there wasn’t an unladen swallow involved. Once inside the town, Costner finds a letter in his sack … and it smells like man-junk. Not really. He actually finds a letter for the inspirational old lady who accepts him as the true postman; secretly, he’s just using it as a ruse to garner some room and board. He also finds some time to bathe and shave; after that, he meets lovable local scamp Ford Lincoln Mercury (Larenz Tate), who originally had a normal name but changed it because he wanted to “drive cars.” Yeah … that makes sense to me. Using that logic, maybe some girl should change her name to Vivid Wicked and see just what line of work she ends up in.

To further earn the townspeople’s trust, Costner lies through his teeth about the conditions of the outside world; the people aren’t very convinced, though. They’re very anti-government in Pineview. Maybe their role model is the Unibomber. Then again, you can’t blame their skepticism … Costner tells them that the new president is RINGO STARR! Well, he calls him “Richard Starkey,” but we all know who he’s really referring to. That evening, after dinner, some cheesy square dancing breaks out and Costner meets the local HOT CHICK (Olivia Williams). They share a moment together while dancing to a terrible unplugged cover of the Lovin’ Spoonful’s “You Didn’t Have to Be So Nice.” After the dance, the HOT CHICK requests impregnation because her husband (Charles “Chip” Esten) has fertility problems – is the impregnation offer a running theme in Costner’s movies?!? I mean, we had the same moment in Waterworld as well, didn’t we? Meanwhile, the blonde HOT CHICK brings Costner over to meet her mother, who also happens to be the inspirational old lady. I suppose, after that, Costner is inspired.

Or not, as he then looks to get out of town. On his way, some random old guy points him in the direction of the old post office. While there, he has a chat with Ford, who no longer wants to drive cars – he wants to be a postman instead! Ah, the fine life of civil service … there’s nothing like it. Costner tells him that it’s actually like being a vampire (huh?) but he swears Ford in anyway. That was nice of him, albeit insincere. Costner, trying to get out of town again, then has a talk with the skeptical sheriff (Daniel von Bargen, last seen in Basic Instinct) who requests Costner’s hasty exit. Later, while Costner relaxes in bed – because he didn’t leave town yet like he was supposed to and WANTED to – and the HOT CHICK (named Abby … at least they gave her a name in this one) comes to visit. She clumsily seduces him and he agrees to spare her some seed … while sounding like he’s drunk. Then, because this movie needed a sex scene about an hour in, Costner and Abby roll around in bed semi-erotically a few times and she enjoys the experience a little more than I’m sure her husband would like.

The next day, Costner finally leaves town to go on his appointed rounds; as a gesture of goodwill, the town gives him their best horse. Before leaving (just LEAVE already!!!), Costner gives the residents a pep talk and then some little girl starts spontaneously singing “America the Beautiful” and the rest of the citizens join in. On the way out (FINALLY!), the skeptical sheriff gives Costner a letter to deliver while Abby and her husband celebrate her getting some. Conveniently, just after Costner exits, the bad guys arrive. The general wants to know who’s responsible for the American flag flying in the town; the sheriff, sensing where all this is going, intimidates Ford due to the latter’s commitment to the Postal Service. The general, because he’s an insecure megalomaniacal copier salesman-cum-dictator, orders Abby’s husband to burn down the flag and the post office. Ford escapes relatively unscathed (since he’s only a minor hero, he isn’t good enough to be PERFECTLY UNHARMED). Later that afternoon, the general requests the right of first night with Abby, but her husband protests. He ends up dead, mainly because an excuse was needed to allow Abby to be with Costner by the end. The bad guys then leave Pineview in search of Costner and they take Abby along as a concubine. In their wake, Ford leaves the town with the mail, because he still believes. I think he just wants the benefits and pension plan, but I’m cynical like that.

Elsewhere, Costner delivers mail to another town and everyone is instantaneously happy again. Conveniently, the bad guys arrive just as Costner’s there and the general quotes Roman history. You know, for a guy we’re supposed to hate, the general really does have some good qualities. Either that, or this movie is trying to say that the literate intellectuals are the true evils of society. One or the other. The wimpy mayor of the town sends Costner out to negotiate with the general; the general responds by laying siege to the town. Wow, so it is like Roman history! Now if the Pope walks out of the town and inspires the general to turn back, that’ll be something. During the fray, Abby kills some bald guy who was about to shoot Costner, rescuing him, and then shoots at the general. It’s so hard to find good concubines these days. Costner and Abby escape on horseback but, just to add a little needless drama, he passes out from a gunshot wound. Later, Abby beats some guy to death with a rock and then she performs emergency surgery and it starts snowing. OK then. Thanks for the inferred passage of time, movie!

In the woods, Abby miraculously finds an abandoned cabin and she discovers the brand that marks Costner as one of the bad guys, or, as the movie calls them, the Holnists. For the life of me, until I saw the credits, I could swear that they were the “Homeless” Army, which I think would have been much cooler. What’s a “Holnist” anyway? Just for old time’s sake, I’ll call them the Homeless. While Costner is relatively PERFECTLY UNHARMED and enjoying a nice hearty dinner, Abby decides it’s time to exact her REVENGE! Wow … two of my catchphrases in one sentence – that has to be a record or something. Costner fends her off with a spoon and she has second thoughts about the whole matter.

Still at the cabin, it’s still snowing and Abby yells at Costner for being lazy. I guess he hasn’t been shoveling the driveway; he blames it on the hole in his stomach. Right … it’s probably just another worker’s comp claim that he doesn’t want to screw up. The benefits are good being a postman, you know. After the argument, Abby leaves in a huff, goes outside, shoots something, and cooks it. Hopefully it’ll taste better than ass. Costner may never know, though, because she puts his dish on the other side of the room, just to torture him because he’s too lazy to get it his damned self. After that episode, Abby wanders around outside for no particular reason other than to fall into a freezing river. Costner, who was gingerly playing tic-tac-toe in the frost on the window, finally does something; unsurprisingly, he gets up like he could walk the whole time (no limp or anything!) and rescues Abby from the water’s evil clutches. He brings her back to the cabin, calls her weird, and then, after an uncomfortable silence, he starts talking about the moon landing. OK … now who’s weird? After that, she confesses that she’s pregnant, which really explains a lot about her behavior. Damned hormonal flux. Oh, and she also confesses that the general is a violent impotent. Again, that explains a lot. Sexual frustration can lead a man to become a fascist militia leader.

Now that everything is out in the open, winter turns to spring, and there is much rejoicing. Costner even finds time to shave once again. Meanwhile, Abby burns down the shack for no particular reason; he calls her REALLY WEIRD. Oooh … them’s fighting words. As they walk through the forest, Costner blathers on and on about a place called St. Rose, which is a mythical utopia he’s searching for. I bet it’s an island in the middle of a giant, world-spanning ocean. Oh, wait … wrong movie. During their travels, they meet a jailbait postal carrier; it seems that, in Costner’s absence, Ford kept up the Postal Service and even recruited new carriers. Costner goes to one of their meetings and Ford becomes instantaneously elated that his role model is alive and well. Costner gives Ford a stern talking-to, but Ford did it all just to keep hope alive. He’s inspirational like that. So inspirational, in fact, that Costner once again takes up the mantle of The Postman, like some sort of super hero letter carrier. Yeah … it’s lame. I know.

Meanwhile, the general captures a carrier and plans an attack based on his information. Elsewhere, Costner makes the carriers wear their hats backwards because that’s cool or something. I forget his reasoning, but it was something notably specious. The carriers ride triumphantly to their routes and Costner picks up some kid’s letter … inspirationally. Remember this moment for future reference. Then, a little while afterward, he suffers from exhaustion while visiting the sleepy hillside hamlet of Elvis, Oregon. He makes them put their post office on sea level; selfish prick. That evening, they all retire to Pineview, where a band plays ‘70s pop songs and the skeptical sheriff is now apologetic. Costner, just to prove his identity, gives the sheriff a letter from his presumed-dead sister. Moments later, the band plays the love theme from The Postman and Abby and Costner dance again. Ford, not to be outdone, dances with the jailbait carrier. Maybe he should’ve changed his name to R. Kelly instead. All throughout his scene I ponder why there are electric lights strung around the town square when there was no indication of the town having electricity to begin with. Bad continuity, bad! While all of this is going on, some random carrier rides through a storm, but gets killed by the bad guys. Oh well.

Later, a crusty Vietnam vet turned carrier plays with a C.B. radio. Maybe he’s looking for a CONVOY! It also turns out that this vet designed a space station while he was in the military as well. Yeah … that makes sense. Thank you movie for making no sense. Elsewhere, the general surveys the dead carriers; later, the jailbait carrier finds the corpses hanged in effigy. In the meantime, a patrol of bad guys ride into the town of Elvis; there, the carriers ambush them and the sounds of gunshots are dramatically replaced by the sounds of drums. Yeah, I don’t know why they did that either. The carriers slaughter every bad guy and it’s not surprising why a lot of people are afraid of the Postal Service. After the incident, Ford dramatically reads the new postal oath back at the base camp and Costner get so depressed that he forces himself to ride all the routes himself. I think he’s still trying to prove to Abby that he’s not lazy, but that’s just my opinion.

At the bad guys’ base, a flaming truck with dead bad guys in the back lands squarely in the middle of the camp. The general, unsurprisingly, is not happy, so he plans for a showdown at Pineview. Costner decides to go off and meet with him, but the rest of the carriers, mutiny perhaps on their minds, drag him off his horse; meanwhile, the jailbait carrier protests that Ford is the cause of all this misery. Hmmm … maybe he did pull an R. Kelly with her after all. Over in Pineview, the general gives a stirring soliloquy; for a sinister villain, he certainly is quite Shakespearean. Then, just because, he sets up a firing squad and kills the skeptical sheriff, among others. Everyone’s sad due to the act, so Costner has second thoughts and the jailbait gets inspirational.

Back at the carriers’ headquarters, Costner reads a letter from president Ringo which formally disbands the Postal Service. After, Ford confronts Costner but Costner intimidates Ford into backing down because he’s just guilty that he’s a quitter. Later, Abby gives Costner a talking-to and Costner finally comes clean regarding his past actions and the origin of “The Postman.” Wow … I bet that issue will feature a die-cut chromium collectors’ cover, too! Although, according to him, the only reason why Costner quit is because he wants to be a good father; I still think he’s just lazy. Costner, just as he and Abby are about to ride off into the sunset, confronts a would-be assassin, but talks him down by using the sheer inspirational power of The Postman.

Some time after, Ford brings a letter to the general stating that the Postal Service has been broken up; the general wants to kill Ford, but the would-be assassin convinces the one-time copier salesman to spare him and use him as a bargaining chip. The general, not satisfied by the lack of bloodshed, gives another soliloquy because HE WANTS COSTNER! Hmmm … maybe that’s why he’s impotent. More on that later. Oh, then he kills some guy. In the mountains, Costner and Abby ride to a town on a dam and meet with Tom Petty. No, really. Some of the carriers, not content to just sit at home while laid off, follow along. Conveniently, moments later, the general’s scouts arrive at the town; Tom Petty tells them to turn around, but he doesn’t tell them not to come around there no more. It seems that they’re looking for The Postman, but some kid doesn’t know what a postman is. Instead of explaining the concept, Costner takes on the mantle of The Postman one last time, probably because he doesn’t want to live like a refugee.

Later, Tom Petty gives Costner a tour of the facilities and Abby, because she’s an American girl, gets weepy due to her love for Costner and that she’s afraid and all that melodramatic clichéd stuff. Costner, running down a dream, leaves for reinforcements and a montage featuring the speech before Harfleur from Henry V breaks out. Branagh would be proud, if he hadn’t been in Wild Wild West. Costner, in the matter of seemingly mere minutes, builds a cavalry to ride out and face the general; meanwhile, I am less than enthused at the prospect of having to sit through a post-apocalyptic civil war. As the two armies face off, the would-be assassin triumphantly joins the carriers’ side, so the general brings out Ford to throw a monkey wrench into the opposing army’s morale. Costner, tricky devil that he is, calls a parlay and the general rides out to meet him. Great … the finale is a showdown between a postman and a copier salesman? It sounds like something you would see in Office Space 2: Electric Boogaloo. Costner, shrewdly, challenges the general to single combat for leadership of the bad guys in a move that was set up about 2 ½ hours previous in the film. Ah, continuity! You haven’t forsaken me! Costner and the general then grapple homoerotically in the dirt (ah … I was right!), Costner bests him but spares his life, and Ford goes postal because of it. Costner talks him down and takes over leadership of the bad guys. In the aftermath, the general attempts to kill Costner but his own eunuch assistant kills him instead. A eunuch assistant! I was REALLY right!

And now I believe it’s time for the denouement. Abby has her baby and Costner returns from his route triumphantly. Yay! Twenty-nine years later, Hope Postman (Mary Stuart Masterson), Abby and Costner’s daughter, dedicates a postman statue at St. Rose. In the assembly is the little kid from earlier in the picture all grown up, who also happens to be immortalized in bronze. Wow … even more continuity. I didn’t know you had it in you, movie. Of course, it doesn’t help its cause when it seems that in twenty-nine years the world is back to normal, with cameras and polo shirts and everything. Eh, I guess you just have to take what you can get.

I have to be honest; it took me forever to work up the motivation to watch this movie. The mere thought of spending three hours of my life to see this film was daunting to say the very least. I’m glad I did it, however, because it serves as another chapter in the world of cinema according to Kevin Costner … a world I shall now introduce you to.

In the middle of some expansive element, some guy, played by Kevin Costner, wanders around. People don’t like him very much, but he has an early run-in with the villains of the picture to somewhat-clearly define him as the protagonist. Somewhere in there, he meets a HOT CHICK who may or may not end up with him at the end of the film. He’s largely mysterious and definitely unnamed and faces an antagonist who isn’t inherently evil but just does evil things. A convoluted series of events occur which leads to Costner inspiring many with his actions. This, in turn, gives way to an anticlimactic showdown with the antagonist where they face their demise in a slightly ironic fashion. There is much rejoicing and society moves on for the better into the bright bright future.

Wow. Two movies summed up in one paragraph. Welcome to the Hall of Fame, Mr. Costner; enjoy your stay.

By special request, a mashup of TNG and Portal 2.