Doesn't quite work, does it?
One hundred years ago, Tarzan creator Edgar Rice Burroughs wrote of the swashbuckling otherworldly adventures of an earthman that becomes a gravity-defying hero on Mars. An estimated eighty-seven Tarzan movies later, Burroughs' John Carter, the one and only Warlord of Mars, finally makes his big screen debut. Not that others haven't tried. In 1936, future Looney Tunes creator Bob Clampett attempted to bring John Carter to the screen via impressively painted animation - but the project was scraped, apparently due to concerns of it being too weird. More recently, Robert Rodriguez was unable to get his own version off the ground.
Finally, someone reached the finish line: Disney tapped Pixar luminary Andrew Stanton ("Finding Nemo", "Wall-E") to helm their version of Burroughs' visionary legend. Unfortunately, a hollow spirit packed within lairs of off-putting heavy-duty self-serious sci-fi baloney is the end result. (The film's idea of humor? The aliens repeatedly refer to Carter as "Virginia", mistaking his home state for his name. Yeesh.) Think Vin Diesel's "The Chronicles or Riddick" (a movie that I still don't understand how it got made), and you get the idea of the size, scope and flavor of this epic misfire.
Mired in pulpy mumbo-jumbo played far too straight-faced, Disney's sprawling "John Carter" is about as approachable as David Lynch's "Dune" adaptation, with every third word being of the made-up variety. "Tharks", "Barsoom", "Jeddak", "Zodanga" - the list goes on. If there was a shred of spirited fun lurking amid this barrage of 100 year old gobbledygook, that would make all the difference. Instead, we're left with a massively ornate, exquisitely designed CGI blast from the past shoehorned into a contemporary kinetic visual context by overly reverent screenwriting and production teams.
The unfortunately named Taylor Kitsch hits the scene playing the title character with block-of-wood uncertainty, veering back and forth from teeth-gritting man of action to wide-eyed Campbellian archetype. Like his leading man, director Stanton marks his first venture into live action filmmaking with a clear feeling of being in far, too far over his head. Perhaps if he hadn't opted to dive into the deepest end of the deepest pool for his first foray into such waters, things wouldn't have turned out quite so lousy. As it stands, "John Carter" is said to be one of the single most insanely expensive films ever made, ringing up around $250 million. But don't worry; you see at least $135 of that on screen. Unfortunately, you see it in 3D, which is a dimming and detracting filter to this would-be colorful escapism.
Reading other reviews, I see that I'm definitely on the negative end of an across-the-board critical response to this movie. Therefore, moreso than most action/effects extravaganzas, your mileage may vary. Another critic already used the headline and David Bowie reference "Lifeless on Mars" to encapsulate this, beating me to the punch, doggonit. But you get the idea.
One thing most critics are seizing upon is the performance of Lynn Collins as the scene-stealing Princess of Mars, Dejah Thoris. Collins is indeed very good in her by-the-numbers modern day heroine role (as tough as the boys, but never unsexy) who is thrust into a fixed marriage plot that feels more at home a century ago than in the feminist now. Collins is very attractive, but also looking a bit tired here. She wasn't the only one - I almost nodded off myself.
It really is a shame that Edgar Rice Burroughs' classic character, a well documented influence for so much of the science fiction, fantasy and adventure we hold so dear today ("Star Wars", "Avatar", "Flash Gordon" - pretty much everything else of that ilk) finally makes it to the silver screen in this manner. Rather than standing head and shoulders above it all, "John Carter" blends into the gutter beneath; the one filled with the remains of so many failed "Star Wars"/"Avatar"/"Flash Gordon" imitations - blending the way any given green thark looks too much like all the other tharks in the film. Which begs the question, if such gutter-filling films are imitations of imitations of Burroughs' Warlord of Mars, what does that make this film? A straight reflection of Burroughs' vision, or a reflection of the reflection reflecting back? (Paging Jean Baudrillard!) In any case, it's too bad that part of that $250 million budget couldn't buy an honest to goodness Queen reunion for the soundtrack.
- Jim Tudor