BATTLEFIELD EARTH: A SAGA OF THE YEAR 3000 (2000) * The problem with reviewing films this dull is that it's impossible to determine whether the plot has as many holes as you think, because your mind keeps wandering. I mean, without question there are many holes (aliens want gold, aliens inject knowledge into latter day Cro-Magnon human head including history of Fort Knox, humans being watched on video by bad aliens fly off to Fort Knox instead of actually mining Colorado, etc.), but it's a question of hundreds or thousands. This film is, of course, John Travolta's heart's work for which he produced and allowed himself to be covered in moose-like lupine face gear and dreadlocks, written by his hero and spiritual mentor L. Ron Hubbard. Travolta didn't do it on the cheap either, he meant it. Cast desperately looking for any signs of humanity (from the humans as well as aliens, it appears that for Hubbard the fundamental interaction between all life forms is a rather unpleasant biting) includes Forest Whitaker and Sabine Karsenti. The sets are cool, in a post industrial, urine-on-concrete-wall way and while Hubbard ain't no Heinlein or Bradbury (I guess, I mean I haven't read any of his stuff, or all that much of theirs either now that I think on it, but I mean, if the plot is really supposed to be like this)....Hubbard was chock full o' insights into corporate mentality, particularly the concept of leverage. It's not impossible to see how Travolta, blinded by love (or visions of level 10 or whatever it is that Scientology offers if you promise not to tell), would think something along the lines of "What does Star Wars have that this story doesn't?" Accordingly he throws himself into his lines with the zest and glee (though, obviously neither skills nor talent) of a leading Shakespearean going after Macbeth. That some will find this humorous is an indictment of nothing. Now, if we can just explain to him the differences between Grease and Citizen Kane.

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