Directed by Roger Christian Written by Corey Mandell Starring John Travolta, Forest Whitaker, Barry Pepper Classification: PG Rating: **
Skip ahead a millennium to 3000, and know that this time the alarm isn't false. Apparently, the Y3K problem has proved to be a real doozie: Entire cities lie in ghostly ruins, and, in a Swiftian twist of perspective, humans are reduced to the lowly status of "man-animals," foraging for berries and huddled in caves. That's because our insignificant planet was invaded, razed and conquered by an alien race of Psychlos. Tall fellows, those Psychlos, tall enough to make Shaquille O'Neal look like a point guard. What's more, they sport ultrahigh brows curving to a Conehead point, very big hair clumped into Rasta locks, awfully bad teeth given to sproutings of moss, and, whenever they venture into Earth's puny atmosphere, a breathing apparatus that bears a suspicious resemblance to a swimmer's nose plugs. About a half-hour into this relative stinker, we come to envy the Psychlos -- especially their nose-plugs.
Ah, it ain't really that terrible. Battlefield Earth is adapted from a sci-fi novel by L. Ron Hubbard, a guy sufficiently creative to supplement the writing of mere fiction with the invention of new religions. Scientology, to be precise. If my People magazine can be trusted, it further appears that actor John Travolta, when not making bundles of cash in the movie biz, is a devotee of matters Scientological -- indeed, a devotee of such ardour that the man has invested some of those bucks in the production of this picture. To be sure, faith can move mountains, and sometimes even wallets.
Happily for us, he hasn't quit his day job, popping up on screen as the villain of the flick and the best excuse for seeing it. His Psychlo-in-Chief is a wonderfully arrogant prig who, consciously or not, has adopted the human mannerism of wonderfully arrogant prigs from a millennium earlier -- yep, he affects a mid-Atlantic accent. Travolta is a bona fide hoot and, as his doorknob-dumb lackey, a barely recognizable Forest Whitaker is pretty damn funny too.
Thanks to director Roger Christian, a set-decorating veteran of the Star Wars saga, all the rest is just tedious business as usual: the not-so-special effects, the apocalyptic score pounding like a D-Day assault, and the black-and-blue look that gives the aural assault a certain visual credibility. Oops, call me ethnocentric, but I dare not neglect the man-animals. They are led by the delightfully named Jonnie Goodboy who, for reasons that must have seemed preordained, is portrayed by the delightfully named Barry Pepper.
To the great surprise of the high-browed Psychlos, these scruffy humans prove themselves a savvy race -- resourceful enough to survive on rats and, inspired by a fortuitous encounter with a dusty copy of the Declaration of Independence, to foment a revolution with the aim of winning back the planet. Watching their pluck, one can't help but wish them well. In fact, if they have a dream, so do we. Perhaps, one heavenly day, the man-animals may rule the earth again and, on the next go-round, will have learned to do by design what they once merely did by chance -- make a movie worth watching.