- Directed by Mark and John Polonia and Jon McBride
- Written by John Polonia
- Starring
- Jon McBride
- Robert Thomas
- Joette Krisiewicz
- Todd Carpenter
- Produced by Massamiliano Cerchi
The fact that, even within my bottom-of-the-barrel “Cold” rating, I am finding gradations in quality or lack thereof, leads me to one inescapable conclusion: I’m spending too damned much time exploring the bottom of the barrel. This movie, for instance, owes its existence to the Polonia Brothers, who also perpetrated the aneurism-engendering Bad Magic. And even though the current offering is nowhere near as bad as that, it’s a picture-perfect example as to why you should not try to shoot a big-budget interstellar adventure on video with paper-route money. The very kindest thing I can say about it is that it’s an hour and a quarter of my life I’m never getting back.
We open on Lunar Base 6 (the kit-bashed station shown on the video cover), where a techie or something detects a rogue planetoid (or, as the back of the box accidentally proclaims, “a rouge planetoid”) entering orbit around Mars. It does something — something nefarious — and our techie explodes in a haze of superimposed electricity. We are then treated to hilariously mismatched stock footage of earthbound destruction: buildings collapsing, tidal waves, fires, tornadoes, etc., culled from every grade and tint of both film and video. Our news announcer tell us that the Earth’s weather has got haywire, and that contact has been lost with Lunar Base 6; could both of these incidents be caused by the planetoid, which has entered Mars orbit?
Well, Golly, we better find out! So Earth dispatches the ship Omega-1 to the moon (through a combination of stock NASA blastoff footage and Playstation-quality CGI ships); this is such a matter of urgency that they actually include two, count’em, two crewmembers: Captain Jack, and Stuart. (No, Captain Jack will not be getting you high tonight.) And it’s right about here that the budgetary limitations reach from your TV screen, grab your lapels, and shake you into giving them your full attention. Despite the concussive liftoff, the command center appears to be two office chairs in front of a desk bearing two computers. In an effort to look futuristic, the walls have been covered with what looks like big sheets of muffin tins. (A quick query to producer Max Cerchi indicates that they’re probably apple box trays.) I’d like to believe that that’s a sly reference to the six-cup muffin tin on the front of the spacesuit in Dark Star, but I have little faith in that.
Captain Jack and Stuart arrive at the moonbase and put on their environment equipment to enter, the main component of which is an “oxygen pack” (one assumes) which is very obviously two cyclist-style water bottles stuck together and spraypainted. Oh, yes, and they’re accessorized with 59ยข white particle masks (you know, the kind with the bendable metal strip on the bridge of the nose) and matching dust goggles. In fact, except for the water bottles, they were outfitted exactly the same way I was all those summers I worked in my grandfather’s woodworking shop.
Aboard the base, they meet — gory still photos! For some reason, throughout the movie, there are scenes which are obviously stills, presented to us in the flow of the narrative. I don’t know why. Anyway, the entire base population (which is apparently three people) is very dead. To neutralize whatever did it, Captain Jack sets what he calls an “explosive charge” (and what I call “a home smoke detector”) to take it out. But as their ship makes it away from the explosion (wow — lotta smoke for an atmosphere-less setting, huh?), they are accosted by a Playstation flying saucer! After some really really bad digital explosions (hmm, maybe the station explosion wasn’t so bad after all), Omega-1 is toasted.
We’re now a full 13 minutes into our running time, so it might be appropriate to introduce some actual protagonists, huh? Yeah, let’s — in the form of the crew of Omega-2, which allows us to use exactly the same liftoff footage and Playstation ship. Now, however, the Top Brass has pulled out all the stops and given us a full crew of five. You’ve got your Captain Stirling (Jon McBride), who looks like a young Jim Henson; his command sidekick Malco (sorry, can’t tell you the actor — the closing credits didn’t identify who played what), the ship’s Doc who spends all his time being ambiguously upset with the captain, the girl (gotta have a female presence), and the loutish engineer guy (because you gotta have someone sneaking drinks and making ill-received passes at the requisite female). Plus a ship’s computer named KAL (gee, I bet the ghost of Stanley Kubrick is really proud to be on the receiving end of an homage from these guys). And a whole lot more apple trays.
Between the sniping that goes on between crewmmembers, we get some exposition (the area of space with the planetoid is known as the “Bermuda Triangle of Space,” and is suspected of containing a wormhole; Captain Stirling has a history of bugging out on missions that go wrong), and some real howlers. My favorite is Stirling’s explanation that the Omega-1 was destroyed by “saucer-shaped crafts, occupancy unknown.” (My guess is about twenty-four without becoming a fire hazard.) Then they get attacked by the saucers, which they manage to fight off with more godawful explosions. To repair the damage, Malco has to go outside in a space suit. At least, they want us to believe it’s a spacesuit. On the other hand, if they want us to believe a paper-cloth suit, a motorcycle helmet that leaves the back of the head obviously explosed, wool gloves, and yet more water bottles are a space suit, why does the camera linger so long and lovingly on Malco suiting up? Is there an inferiority complex at work here which demands that every possible flaw in this whole sordid affair be explicitly pointed out to us?
Anyway. While outside, he bumps into a floating body (of which we never see more than an arm), and naturally they bring it on board. Apparently its brains had been digested from the inside out. (I’m beginning to know how the corpse feels.) The Doc begins the poking and prodding that is his job description.
So. They reach the planetoid (which, contrary to advertised expections, is not “blood red,” nor even “rouge” — it’s more of an orangey filter). Stirling and Malco go exploring (wearing that whole particle mask/water bottle ensemble), leaving everyone else to sit tight. Actually, they leave the Doc to be contacted by a ball of lightning, and true to form, he offers to sacrifice all the rest of the crew for “the secrets of the universe.” The secret is apparently that the ball lightning reanimates another dead body (an Astro-Zombie!) and starts killing all the rest of the crew.
Where’d the dead body come from, you ask? Well, as Stirling and Malco explore what is pretty obviously a gravel yard (the tire ruts are still visible, boys), they apparently see hundreds and hundreds of corpses on a plain. All we get to see is a prop arm (presumably the same prop arm as previously), and the two men looking around and saying, “Hundreds and hundreds of bodies!”
Eventually, Stirling and Malco discover a superimposed alien saucer with a hull breach, so Stirling goes inside to check it out. In a great burst of creativity, the muffin tins covering the walls in here are different than the ones in the Omega-2. And what controls the ship? Apparently, it’s a rubber snake with claws for a head, which lives in a flip-top wastecan. And while Stirling’s on the saucer, Malco is accosted by the amazing Legions of the Offscreen Dead; unfortunately, the only thing this scene accomplishes is calling our attention to the fact that his gun is constructed largely from a hunting scope and various camera parts. (At least it distracts us momentarily from the fact that Malco’s wandering around this planet in a pair of Sorel snowboots that he hasn’t even bothered to zip up. At least Stirling’s wearing moon boots.)
Well, all this wandering is really fun, but eventually Stirling and Malco make it back to their own ship, to find the crew slaughtered. With KAL locating a power source beneath the planetoid’s surface, Stirling and Malco go back out to finish the menace once and for all — the menace turning out to be a giant one-eyed hand puppet. (The puppet, like the lunar station, was constructed by Brett Piper, and looks like a cast-off idea from Drainiac!.) But though all looks lost for our heroes — and by extension, for the Earth, since these bozos are the only thing standing between Cyclops and his announced plans of conquest — KAL activates the self-destruct that Stirling had told him to keep ready, and the whole planetoid is blown away, leaving the Earth safe again. Too bad about that Captain Stirling, though.
You may think that my snide comments throughout my synopsis have sufficiently portrayed the ridiculous nature of this “feature.” They have not. Despite the technical upgrade to flimlooked digital video since Bad Magic, there’s a cheapness that hangs over every scene that you just can’t ignore, no matter your skills at cognitive dissonance. The supposedly moody low lighting turns out just plain dim, washing out much of the color (in sharp contrast to the bright Playstation colors on the CG clips). The stock footage elicits nothing but giggles. The acting ranges from adequate to blame-it-on-the-dog bad, and in one of those instances of cosmic irony, the most demanding lines are given to the actor with the least demonstrable ability. Just about every interior scene is shot in close-up, presumably to keep us from noticing that each “set” is just a dressed-up corner of a room (in one scene, you can see in the background that the token female’s workstation was actually shot at the front of a college auditorium-style classroom!).
Having seen two of the films that Max Cerchi directed himself (Hellinger and Satan Claus), I can say that this is maybe more technically accomplished, but less entertaining by far. Even though Satan Claus‘ technical aspects were pretty poor, it still managed to be a much better way to waste an hour. As far as the Polonia Brothers are concerned, Blood Red Planet is much more enjoyable than Bad Magic — but then, watching autopsy footage of your own grandparents is more enjoyable than Bad Magic. While no one can dispute their obvious devotion to making movies, the sad truth is that the finished product is only “watchable” in the broadest possible sense: Yes, if I put it in my VCR, my eyes can see it. But the fact that they would show this to people outside their immediate circle of friends is just plain embarrassing. The only person who really benefited from the existence of this movie is a certain apple box tray manufacturer.
Some Notable Totables:
- body count: 8
- breasts: 0
- explosions: 23
- dream sequences: 1 (and they even sleep on the damned apple trays!)
- ominous thunderstorms: 1
- actors who’ve appeared on Star Trek: 0
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