Uncle Don’s Views of Nil Repute

Uncle Don

What? No LGM or BEMs? (Little green men and bug-eyed monsters). No

gratuitous violence? Almost no profanity? You all know what that means: A

thinking man’s film. Uh-oh. And I dropped $4.50 at the Edwards on Adams

-- which has a little shrine in front mourning its apparent eminent

demise -- on this dog.

“Mission to Mars” suffers from the same terminal disease common to all

pretentious science-fiction flicks. Dialogue. Mouths open. Words are

emitted and IQs drop like the thermometer on a winter’s day in Nome.

“MTM” is as stoopid as a film can be. Stooping barely, just barely, above

the high standards set by “The Postman,” “MTM” bases its entire premise

on that famous photo sent in 1976 of the “face” on Mars.

Of course this face, which was thought to be a face, was found not to be

a face, but is resurrected in “MTM” as now a face covered by dirt.

This’ll keep the “Alien Autopsy” wackos filled with conspiracy ammo for

years.

And what inhabits this face? Loud noises, strange vibrations and the

Sandman. This ambulatory sandstorm takes affront at the invaders from

Earth and, stealing the sandstorm effect from “The Mummy,” attacks the

poor innocent little earthlings like a Hoover on steroids. Sucking them

all up but one, a rescue mission is launched from Earth to retrieve the

lone survivor who is now nuttier than an airline snack.

Our multi-cultural, multi-ethnic, multi-marginally talented crew of

meatballs and mumblers heads off to the great partially unknown, a flight

costing billions and billions to save one dude. Sure doesn’t save the

movie.

Powering this space ship is unquestionably the worst dialogue ever

written for a major motion picture. We get pearls of wisdumb like this:

“Have a great ride.” “Deal.” “Are you thinking the same thing I am?”

“It’s never been out of my mind.” “We’re not leaving ‘til we find out.”

And, of course, the classics: “It’s no use” and “I am not losing you.”

Even the wrist-o-matic computers on the astronauts’ arms flash amazing

bits of triteness, such as “insufficient fuel” and “point of no return.”

Along the way, the rescue ship gets punctured by space junk, loses its

fuel, blows an engine or two and casts the crew out into the void, where

one of ‘em burns up in Mars’ atmosphere like a forgotten tater tot in an

overheated oven. These strangers in a strange land safely land after

subjecting us to yet more inane conversations and we’re stuck with the

rest of the movie.

“MTM” swipes a lot of marginal inspiration, hackneyed dialogue and dull

special effects from that former classic, “2001: A Space Odyssey.” Pop

that sucker in your VCR and see if you can actually do two things: 1) sit

through the entire film, and 2) not laugh at it. Aged badly, it has.

Once upon the Red Planet, surrounded by product placements for Pennzoil

and Dr. Pepper, our explorers are soon to have a Close Encounter of the

Tedious Kind. They figger out the clue of the face, the face opens, and

whadda ya know -- it’s like the museum at the Palomar Observatory, only a

lot older and a whole lot less interesting.

Some alien (they all look the same) pops up, explains the mysteries of

the universe and the origin of life, drags out an overlong movie, and

sets up the most idiotic, moronic, pathetic ending of a movie you’ll ever

see. It gets no worse than this.

Sappier than a Vermont maple, “Mission to Mars” is in desperate need of a

“Star Wars”-style Death Star to put Mars out of its misery.

* UNCLE DON reviews “B” movies and cheesy musical acts for the Daily

Pilot. You can reach him via e-mail ato7 reallybadwriting@aol.comf7 .