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Script - Cinematic Quarantine: StarCrash
🕑 Added 2020-04-10 23:35:30 +0000 UTCThis time, rather than an analysis, we're doing a watch-along style review. Because this film defies analysis. You'll see what I mean when it's done.
Captain’s Log, 4th week of quarantine procedures. Mental condition is deteriorating. Restless dreams. I am haunted by images of an old man laying waste to the land, slaying hordes of stricken, slavering masses with an ease that is disturbing to behold, given his advanced age. A hateful gremlin-man who has ruined his hair in some arcane ritual of intimidation that I don’t understand. A giggling specter that runs to his death, over and over. Am I blighted? Am I enlightened to prophecy?
...I am definitely very high. That, I can confirm. Which means it’s time to take it to the next level. Time to enhance my state of alteration. Time… to watch an incoherent Italian Star Wars knockoff, produced by Roger Corman, featuring David Hasselhoff. Because I am a creature that believes evolution can be spurred into action with the proper stimulus, and I desire nothing more than to seek personal advancement for myself via mutation. Mutate with me, viewer.
MUTATE WITH MEEEE-
[CINEMATIC QUARANTINE]
Starcrash was released in 1978. That’s a year later than Star Wars: A New Hope. If these model shots seem familiar, just incredibly cheap, congratulations, you have spotted the hallmarks of a Roger Corman production. It is downright shameful how good they think these models look, that they let the camera linger like this. At least the interior shots are somewhat better.
Hah, no, never mind, I take that back.
[“Scan it with the ship’s computer waves.”]
We go from computer waves to the crew being murdered by superimposed lava lamp wax. And no, I’m not leaving something out, this is how the film unfolds, this shit just happens. Lotta dudes in leather bodysuits and Hulk Hogan Fist Helmets doing Shatner sells before dying. And then I guess some escape pods take off towards the desert planet, because we cannot be Star Wars enough. And that’s how this in media res situation resolves- no explanation, and then a starship explodes. Because this film was conceived via a cocktail of LSD and dexedrine, then edited with a butterknife.
CREDITS! Hey look, it’s Marjoe Gortner, who on top of having a very unfortunate name, was an Evangelical youth pastor and revivalist who suffered a crisis of both faith and conscious over his profession, that it resulted in the Oscar-winning 1972 documentary Marjoe, which was a surface-level look at his ministry while the cameras were in front of his peers, and an expose of their practices when it was just Marjoe himself. That documentary was the reason why he’s in this movie. Well, I mean it’s the reason why he’s in any movies- it brought him fame and being a movie actor felt more ethical to him than what he used to do.
This is Stella Star. This is Akton. They are smugglers, who smuggle. Now, I don’t tend to bag on people’s looks, it’s not my style. That said, going between Marjoe here and Caroline Munro in these close up cuts is the sort of whiplash that renders permanent spinal injuries. Your partner in crime? Fine as hell. But what the fuck is that hair, dude?
We are again in media res, and we get no explanation. They are in space, and then suddenly the Space Cops come to take their Space Crops. This is Thor, this is Elle, ACAB. The pattern established the pattern of this film now established, it again reasserts itself to confirm its presence: this scene gives no explanation for itself, and then a starship explodes. Or goes to hyperspace. Whatever, fuck it.
And then it turns out this whole sequence was just a wash. An extremely incoherent and urgently worded wash. There’s this whole breathless energy to Starcrash, and we’re only getting the very tip of a cheap plastic iceberg.
We next meet our villain, aboard his stupid hand-ship, Count Zarth Arn, from the League of the Dark Worlds. First, we take in the tableau of his goons in their own, fashier leather jumpsuits and Hulk Hogan Fist Helmets. And then, drink in this unholy hybrid of Krusty the Klown and Sid Haig. That’s Zarth Arn. That’s our villain. This is what he sounds like.
[COME TO ME, GOLEMMMMMMMS]
Not even 15 minutes in, folks.
Stella and Akton are on trial for being smuggling smugglers. The judge appears to be what Guild Navigators from Dune would look like if they used bath salts instead of Spice. This man is working with 300% brains, but they are unfortunately 250% damaged. You hate to see it, folks, but that’s the state of the justice system today. Wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out this sickly motherfucker was found floating upside down in his bowl bout 20 minutes after the trial.
Prison. Hard labor. Stella delivering big orbs of radium while dressed like Barbarella. That’s not at all hazmat certified. Dissent! A prisoner uprising! Violence! Stella picks up what appears to be a Dark Eldar Splinter Rifle, and then proceeds to contribute absolutely nothing with it. Whatever, no explanation, and then the prison explodes. It’s fine, don’t worry about it, her sentence was cancelled. None of that mattered. Also, Akton’s back. Fuck it, just start the movie again, we’re back at square one. Complete with the interminable cheap spaceship footage.
Oh good lord it’s Christopher Plummer, one of the finest actors to ever come from Canada. I sure hope this movie bought him like a pool, I’d hate for it to have been the sort of paycheck you have to spend on something boring but important, like fixing the roof.
[“He was my only son.”]
This movie didn’t deserve that level of full-assed performance.
It’s with this appearance of an actual-ass heavyweight puncher of an actor, we get our premise: Count Zarth Arn Anderson is building a weapon of massive power on a secret planet, that our smuggler protags were somehow witness to? I don’t get how, but whatever, let’s rock. It’s hidden on a secret planet, so now our super smugglers and space cops are teaming up to track it down. Their secondary objective? Locate Emperor Christopher’s son.
Akton, fill us in on our destination:
[“The heart of the Haunted Stars, Uranus!”]
Okay, what the fuck Akton, are you going to explain that? Is that a different Uranus? Is this some Planet of the Apes shit? If it is, why is Uranus the planet at the heart of the Haunted Stars? You know what, fuck it, this movie is high is shit and whenever I find myself confused by the plot I just look at Caroline Munro to take off the migraine pressure it’s feeding me. Normally I’d be mad that the female lead of a science fiction movie appears to be locked into wearing an ever-ensmallening combat bikini and knee high heels, because shit’s just silly in space. On the other hand, compare her to the rest of the cast, with not a thread of dignity to be found in their own costuming and not exactly filling it out impressively. So at least with her I can take comfort from the confidence of a woman walking around with that facial expression and abs she could crack walnuts with.
Uranus is another repeating of the pattern: no explanation-
[Clips featuring Amazons]
-something happens, the consequences of which are immediately invalidated-
[Elle gets shot to death; Elle is not dead]
-incoherence-
[Clips of the Amazons’ Giant Guardian with Washer Nipples]
-and then starships start exploding.
[I’LL MAN THE LASER CANNONS]
Starships begin to explode.
[explosions]
They continue to explode.
[Explosions]
They never cease to explode.
[EXPLOSIONS]
Your own brain begins to explode as collateral damage.
[BAH GOD THE EXPLOSIONS]
This movie hurts.
Oh fuck, we’re just barely past the 30 minute mark and the plot is just congealing to a sludge. Here, Akton, I don’t want to try and explain this movie’s navigational logic or its sense of space, you do it:
[Akton talks about the 3rd launch from the next solar system over, whatever that means]
Akton, you are no fucking help whatsoever. Neither are Stella or Elle, who find a wrecked escape pod, some frozen bodies, and decide to just give up and head back in their search. Probably because they didn’t have the budget to explore the wreck. Meanwhile, Akton faffs around with his vague powers, then talks to the ship’s brain, which was not previously established as capable of being capable of talking. Then Thor drastically elevates his ACAB level by revealing himself to be an agent of Zarth Arnold Palmer. Who would have thought the guy wearing the brown leather codpiece was a total shitheel? Thor locks the ship down so that the hyperfreeze sunset will kill Stella and Elle, causing Elle to bust out some ultrascience goofiness that allows them to survive direct exposure cryostasis, it’s fine, it’s fine, just go with it, because compared to what happens next, this is sensible. It’s actually kinda sweet, too.
[“Goodbye, my friend.” “Goodbye, for now.”]
Aww.
Hey, guess what? We’re now into my favorite part of Starcrash: the terrible fight sequence. I love terrible fight sequences. I would wager this is one of the absolute finest I’ve ever seen. You know the fight in The Raid 2, with Rama fighting the karambit assassin in the kitchen, painting it red with each other’s blood, one of the most breathtaking one on one combat scenes ever filmed? This fight between Thor and Akton is its equivalent in being absolute garbage. It has everything: actors who clearly do not know what they’re doing; fight choreography that doesn’t know what it’s doing; camerawork and editing that not only doesn’t know what it’s doing, but actively enhancing the absurdity of all this; the sudden emergence of Laser Willpower that turns the tide of the fight; and this. THIS.
[“NOTHING CAN SURVIVE THESE DEADLY RAYS!” “These deadly rays… will be YOUR DEATH!”]
So Thor’s dead. That’s fine. I’m fine. How are you, are you fine?
[Static Blurt]
Captain’s Log, supplemental. If you should ever encounter me sporting Marjoe Gortner’s 1978 hairstyle, shoot me, because it’s an alien impostor.
[Static Blurt]
Marjoe applies faith-based healing ministry to Stella Star, causing her to defrost like a windshield. It’s moments like this that I find myself not actually laughing at the movie, mainly because it’s barely doing anything than letting its score just play, and the score is legitimately strong. So that’s nice.
Moments like this though? Significantly easier to have a volatile reaction:
[Akton reveals he knew Thor was a traitor; Stella just assumes and correctly guesses that Akton is precog; Akton says that he didn’t bring it up because revealing the future is “against the law.”]
Now, I love Warframe, both as a game and a setting. The Warframe universe features a faction of people called The Quills, who have become unstuck in spacetime and through being in contact with their other multiversal instances, can guide both themselves and others through science-magic precognition. The important thing to know about the Quills, is that the game builds up to their presence in the setting. It doesn’t just drop HEY I KNOW THE FUTURE BUT I CAN’T TELL YOU IT BECAUSE SPACE LAW onto people’s groins like a cinderblock.
Oh man, oh jeez, we are only halfway into this wreck. In summary: We get more space flight as we travel to our third destination, and it’s time to get attacked by a superimposed lava lamp again. Elle starts sounding like this.
[I aM oUt Of COntRoL]
Akton is unaffected though, and guides the ship through the energy field. Hey, Stella, are you okay? Falling like that is really bad, and probably should have killed you. Eh, whatever, time for another planet to go wander around aimlessly on. They find an escape pod, but the Hills Have Eyes, and both Stella and Elle are attacked by cavemen on trampolines. Elle is summarily obliterated, and this time for good, but it’s fine, because here’s a guy wearing Deonte Wilder’s Bronze Bomber mask, only it shoots eye beams, to save the day. Who is our mystery man? Why, it’s “Simon.”
[HASSELHOFF]
So the Hoff is here, and he’s out of ammo. Which is bad, because the cavemen are back, and even without their extreme trampoline work, they’re meaner than ever. And then, just when you think this movie couldn’t get more shameless in its low-rent lifting of the first science fiction blockbuster, Akton shows up with a motherfucking lightsaber.
[It’s literally just a lightsaber]
Akton then hits us with some incredibly tenuous logic about why this planet is Count Zarth Hey Arnold’s gigaweapon. Whatever, let’s just move it along, movie.
[Logic? Logic.]
Time to trek through some limestone formations to one of the worst superimposed models I’ve ever seen in a bad movie. Hey Akton, if you knew the future, why didn’t you just subtly nudge Stella in the direction of the planet? How’d you have to suss out its location with that tenuous logic? Why didn’t you play a more active role in this story? It seems to me, you’re AKTON kinda strange.
I’ll show myself o[Charles Bronson gunshot, scream]
It’s here we learn the nature of Count Tom Arnold’s gigaweapon: it’s some sort of computerized phantom planet psionic weapon that causes people to think they’re being attacked by monsters, then go insane, to death. Hey, at least it’s original. And this set isn’t great, but it’s not the worst thing this movie has shown us.
No, this is the worst thing the movie has shown us.
[GOLEMMMMMMMMMMMS]
Count Benedict “Zarth” Arnold arrives on the scene in all his arch fabulosity. Backing him up are his shit-tier Bionicle golems and his badly composited honor guards. He drops the news of his masterstroke: That his ultimate weapon was just a big trap, that he was going to lure the Emperor into and explode, which seems like just a terrible idea. Like the Emperor knows that there’s this megaweapon his son was after, and he’s just willingly warping into its killzone at top speed because Zarth Arnold Vosloo said he had his son- which is The Hoff by the way -this is dumb. And then from the other end, Bang Bang Zarth knows he has a legitimate winner of a weapon, a weird one, but a winner nonetheless- and he’s willing to just sacrifice it to his graveyard like this was a game of Magic and he’d just hit his win condition? Why not just fire the gigaweapon once Emperor Christopher was in its range and checkmate him by making him go bonkers to death, instead of scuttling his own motherfucking gigaweapon.
You know what, dude, stop, you’re applying logic to a movie that does not respect its own internal logic. Akton is fighting robots now. Good lord does Marjoe not know how to fight. But he does take down one of the [GOLEMMMMMMMMMS], before being indistinctly hit in the arm. Thus, the Hoff takes up his light rapier and… hang on, something weird is happening. Is it just me, or does David Hasselhoff look like he knows what he’s doing with that thing? Maybe he’s just good at portraying confidence with a sword, but maybe he’s had some training, or at least good instruction- a little awkward, but that’s mostly because he’s fighting something that isn’t there. But whichever way, respect. He’s graceful, and this movie isn’t.
Anyway just when it looks like Simon’s about to get bested, Akton somehow manages to overcome an overwhelming arm cut to push the second GOLEEMMMMMMM into a… exploding cotton candy machine, I guess. He then decides that he’s just dead after all that, declaring his mission is over, then stating:
[IMMA LIVE FOREVER (HAH HAAAAAHH!!)]
[cut to black and white: RIP Akton, Forever - Forever]
Yep, Akton turns to energy after losing a fight with a laser blade, because again, Star Wars was a good-ass movie. Immediately afterward, Emperor Christopher shows up, with seconds to go on the planet-bomb timer. And then. And then. In this movie’s ultimate showing how how little it respects stakes, your time, worldbuilding, I dunno, maybe just storytelling in general? It pulls THIS from its own personal Calvinball rulebook.
[IMPERIAL BATTLESHIP: HALT. THE FLOW. OF TIME.]
[Green Ray envelops planet]
[ending to In the Mouth of Madness]
[Static Blurt]
Captain’s log, supplemental. I woke up face down on the floor, not sure if what I was tasting was blood or copper wiring. Should I risk going outside for a doctor’s visit?
[Static Blurt]
It’s with this scene that we can say the movie is effectively over. All that’s left is the final battle. “But Doc,” you’re asking me, “shouldn’t the final battle be this huge, climactic conflict, especially when it’s factional conflict on an interstellar scale?” Well yeah, you’d be right, in a typical movie. But this is not a typical movie, this is Starcrash, a movie so utterly incomprehensible, it makes the choice of having the protagonists go on the offensive… then passively watch the battle from the bridge of the Imperial Battleship.
Shit you not. Stella Star, super space smuggler, sits this one out. So does Hasselhoff. So does the Emperor. Our remaining named character, Count Zarth Brooks, the villain, is the only one that participates in this battle, generally by shouting “KILL!” and pointing. The fact that the main characters are watching the assault on the Handship, which is now a Fistship, via combat camera, makes the bloodcurdling screams of the dying all the more impactful.
And the movie goes on [AUUUGH], and on [OUUAGHHHHH] and ON [OH NO, AHHHHH] like this. Until finally, the Emperor has run out of troops and declares the battle lost. Because the protagonists in this movie are a bunch of chumps.
But wait, there’s one more quibble: See, there’s this Floating City, that’s what it’s called, that’s painted like it’s a bismuth crystal. The Emperor gives Stella orders to scuttle it into Count Barth from You Can’t Do That On Television’s Fistship before it can deploy the madness weapon on the Imperial homeworld. Wait, why is the madness weapon on the Fistship, I thought it was on the phantom planet? And another thing, why do I smell burning toast?
Hey look, it’s Elle 2.0. That’s fine, everything is fine. Look, there’s some tension, maybe the Fistship and it’s fighters might be able to stop the floating- oh, no wait, and then a starship explodes.
[Text: THE PATTERN WILL NOT BE CHALLENGED over footage of starships exploding]
The movie is over. Christopher Plummer gives us a monolog, like something further is coming from this setting. This was highly wishful thinking. Just like hoping watching an Italian carbon copy Star Wars would assist me in mutating further, even in my altered state. All its done is give me a headache, run me low on weed and given me the ability to peer in on the life of myself in an alternate reality.
Huh, that might be something, actually. Hang on, let me try… uh, let me just try:
“HEY. HEY ASSHOLE. WHY DO YOU HAVE SUCH STUPID HAIR? WHAT ARE YOU, MARJOE GORTNER?”
[credits]
