Remember a time in Hollywood when filmmakers would search long and hard for movie ideas, pouring out a lifetime of love, heartbreak, adventures and passion into one finely honed classic story? Well folks, that time is long dead and buried. Hollywood honchos these days think that’s far too much hard work and have hit on a eureka moment of sending an intern down to Toys R Us for a little inspiration. Fuck it, why not. Ingmar Bergman did it with a game of chess right? Thus, hot on the heels of GI Joe and Transformers, we have Battleship, Peter Berg’s two-hour long sensory bludgeoning ode to American wars and Hollywood travesty.
Setting up a new record for speed of descent into farcical shit, Taylor ‘The Man Who Bankrupted Disney’ Kitsch is given another opportunity to prove that you don’t need to study acting to land a lead role in an obscenely big budget studio crapfest. Moving seamlessly from ne’er-do-well-petty-criminal-bum to high ranking naval officer (the US Navy really need to tighten up their recruiting policy) he soon finds himself accidentally in charge of a Destroyer (which is not a battleship, you lying cunts) trapped inside an alien force field, trying to save the world using skills honed in a strategic coordinate-based board game.
Kitsch (to his agent): “First John Carter, and now this shit. GET ME OUT OF THIS MOVIE!!!!”
These particular aliens are tricky buggers who do not only have the kind of spaceships (which aren’t battleships!) that looked straight out of the special effects department, but also set about creating human interest by trapping a very sheepish-looking Liam Neeson outside and sneaking up on Brooklyn Decker, whose basic function is to run around barely clad with bouncing breasts. Rihanna also decides to make this her first movie gig (wrong move), and her spunky lesbian commando tries hard to save the planet, but fails to save this sinking shit of a movie. But what do we exactly expect from a product straight out of the brain-dead Hollywood machine other than ear-bleeding, eye haemorrhaging, all-exploding sensory assault loud enough to drown any coprolitic dialogue and any virtual presence of a decent plot.
What we have here is a movie that swings from being an idiotic action flick to dangerously jingoistic justification for enormous military ‘peacekeeping’ operations. Not even the nod towards international cooperation can disguise the fact that this film will serve as masturbatory fodder for every teenage boy and middle-aged gun-nut from Alabama to Arkansas and reinforce in a generation the idea that war is a heroic endeavour fought against a faceless enemy. I genuinely believe that we will remember this movie as a point in history when an entire country disappeared up its own backside.
Battleship is not just bad, it’s beyond insulting. If you want something ship-related, watch Battleship Potemkin, Das Boot, Hitchcock’s Lifeboat, or even Titanic for fuck’s sake, and steer well away from this feculent turd of a movie, or anything ‘starring’ Taylor Kitsch or directed by Peter Berg. Personally it will be the last toy related flick I ever see, unless Todd Solondz does something based on Kerplunk.