Oh, no! You sank my movie!

I don't believe I've ever watched a movie that made less sense than Battleship, the movie inexplicably based on the board game of the same name. Taylor Kitsch and Alexander Skarsgard star as unlikely brothers Alex Hopper and Stone Hopper, respectively, one an officer in the navy, the other a down-and-out, unemployed loser. Older brother Stone tries to convince younger brother Alex to join the navy, but Alex is more interested in the curvy blonde who has suddenly appeared in search of a chicken burrito. And that's where everything begins rolling down the Baffling Highway of Inexplicable  and Senseless Events.

Alex somehow goes from breaking into a convenience store, stealing a chicken burrito, destroying property, resisting arrest and being tased to becoming a commander in the US Navy. One could begin making jokes about how selective the Navy is with its recruits. As absurd as it sounds, this is just one of the many head-slappingly unbelievable events that put severe strain on suspension of disbelief—even in this sci-fi actioner. Had this been a made-for-Saturday-morning-TV movie released in the '90s, it could have become a popular classic among the younger crowd. Unfortunately, it's just impossible to take seriously a movie like this being released on the big screen.

After Hopper lands command of his own ship in the US Navy, the aliens appear with the apparent intent of launching an invasion to conquer the Earth. Well, at least that's what the audience is expected to believe—in spite of all evidence to the contrary. The alien race possesses military technology far beyond that possessed by the US Navy—yet time and again they don't utilize it to their full advantage. They can swat us Earth humans around like flies, yet they allow us to one-by-one destroy every ship in their reconnaissance fleet. In addition to artillery that resembles the pegs used to sink ships in the board game (this was obviously intentional), the alien arsenal also includes spinning, fiery balls of doom that can chew through metal like wet cardboard. They could easily have launched a few of these to eat through every single weapon the humans possess. Instead they sit around waiting for the insects to attack them with their puny weapons and slowly demolish everything they have.

Oh, but this is, after all, just a reconnaissance mission for the aliens. They're just here to send a message back to the homeworld about a plump fruit ripe for the picking. Never mind that the reconnaissance forces themselves seem to be more than a match for anything the Earth can throw at them. Naturally, the humans, against all the odds prevail because of their tenacity and ingenuity in the face of insurmountable obstacles. And the gullible audience is expected to rejoice in the triumph of the underdog, assuming that the homeworld won't miss the reconnaissance mission or will have decided that the Earth is just too powerful for them to conquer.

The movie really just doesn't make much sense, but it does offer up plenty of moments that tug at American heartstrings. And, if I may digress for a moment, that is another of the film's great failings. Like many other films, it suffers from being solidly planted in an American perspective with blinders firmly in place. After all, if an alien race is going to launch an invasion of Earth, it would certainly be the US Navy it confronts. Because nobody else has any weapons to bring to bear.

But if we can ignore such shortsightedness, then we will surely be moved by the double-amputee military veteran who has the courage to go toe-to-toe with one of the alien brutes, pounding it with one right cross after another until several of its teeth go flying. And who could possibly be immune to the emotional appeal of the WWII veterans who help Hopper launch the USS Missouri into the battle? Even the movie's token geek steps up to inspire the audience with unlikely bravery. Ultimately, however, it is Hopper's rise from ne'er-do-well to hero that provides the films strongest moment.

The movie counts on emotional appeals to please the audience because, quite frankly, it's got nothing else in the tank. This is an empty, illogical, senseless mess that nevertheless manages to make us—some of us at least—raise our fists in triumph and belt out a loud "Hurrah!"

John Carter: Don't buy the anti-hype

A cliche that has floated around for decades states, "Don't believe the hype." It's a simple idea that hyperbolic claims about something tend to lead to disappointment, that the underlying substance usually fails to live up to the assertions. Hype is much like fiction in that the tale, to paraphrase a well-known writer, tends to grow in the telling. The bigger the hype, the bigger the disappointment in the final product.

The same can be said of negative hype, or "anti-hype," if you will. The more vitriol you hear about something, the less terrible you realize it must actually be.

While I concede that some movies deserve much of the criticism they receive, it often seems that deliberate forces are at work to undermine others, in much the same way that politicians employ attack ads against their opponents.

And that brings me to the recent rental release John Carter, aka John Carter of Mars, aka A Princess of Mars (if we want to link it to its Edgar Rice Burroughs source material), directed by Andrew Stanton and starring Taylor Kitsch and Lynn Collins. This film suffered greatly from negative hype. Rumors about various problems swirled about as its box office release date approached. The title of the film was even changed before its debut, with various excuses provided. The budget was huge, there were production problems, and there was just no way Disney was going to recoup all of its investment. In short, John Carter was a dismal failure.

The truth is, John Carter is not such a bad movie after all. The saddest part is that it was indeed a failure at the box office and may be declared one of the biggest bombs of all time. Frankly, I have seen far worse films that performed far better at the box office.

That is not to say that John Carter is a great movie, but it does have enough in the way of story, special effects and action to make it pretty darned good. And at its core it does offer a fine look at the development of the titular character.

One reason stated for the title change from John Carter of Mars to simply John Carter was to show the progression of the character from a Virginia Civil War veteran who'd lost hope to a man of Mars who'd found a reason to live. In keeping with this idea, the final title screen displays the title as John Carter of Mars. I found this to be a fitting touch, and it truly felt like a triumphant moment.

Unlike many movies that hit the big screen—especially those in the SF and fantasy genre—John Carter is a patient film that is happy to let the character and story develop over time. Beyond the special effects, the action, the romance and even the humor, this above all else makes it worth watching. Most films seem to want to rush headlong from start to finish, story be damned. The more explosions, fights and gunshots, the better. Most people will say John Carter dragged at times. I say it's at those moments that the most critical character development occurs.

And it's the character of John Carter that makes the film. You find yourself liking him from the start. He's willful, cantankerous, resourceful, and he's apathetic, a man who has lost hope. The reason for his despair unfolds over time throughout the film, revealed to us as fragmentary flashbacks until a final, drawn-out scene during an epic battle reveals his pain and loss in bitter full. It is a powerful and moving image, one of the best I've seen in any film of this genre.

You cannot help wanting John Carter to find himself, to regain some measure of purpose and happiness in his life. When it finally happens, it is a satisfying moment. And that is the best way to describe how I felt at the end of this film. It was fulfilling and satisfying.

It's not a perfect movie. There are certainly plenty of awkward moments of unintentional humor. The scene in which Carter is trying to learn how to walk on a planet of lesser gravity than he's accustomed to frankly went on a bit too long. The low-gravity schtick was overdone in many parts of the film and grew tiresome. We did not need to be reminded of it time and time again.

The romance between Carter and Deja was, naturally, predictable and all-too obvious from the start, even when it was apparent that Deja was determined to exploit Carter's strength and abilities to save her planet. But that doesn't mean it still wasn't engaging or that the viewer didn't want it to happen. I contrast this strongly with the romance of Anakin and Padme in the Star Wars films. I was entirely indifferent to that romance, didn't want it to happen and really hoped it would just go away. Here, at least, there are moments you find yourself mentally telling Carter, "Just kiss her, dammit!"

The awkward, predictable or even slow moments are mere blips on the map in an adventure brimming with all of the classic formula elements of action, romance, danger, heroism and humor. It is, simply, an enjoyable, if not terribly remarkable, movie.

In addition to a fine story and some good special effects, John Carter also boasts a great cast, many of whom lend their voices to CGI figures, including Willem Dafoe as Tar Tharkis, Thomas Haden Church as Tal Hajus, Dominic West (McNulty!) as Sab Than and Mark Strong as Matai Shang, and, oh, yes, Bryan Cranston as the Civil War officer, Col. Powell.

No, I will not say John Carter is the best SF/fantasy film I've seen, but it stands up to many of the best and most of the recent releases in the genre. It's more than worth the rental or purchase price, and I may very well grab the Blu-ray myself. This is a clear-cut case of a movie most undeserving of the negative hype.