The Rain People (1969)

Francis Ford Coppola’s “The Rain People” is a low-budget, outside-the-system film at its best: Brave, as uncomfortable as any harsh truth, and against the set codes of American-GOP-approved rules. It’s a must-watch companion to fellow “F.U.” road picture “Easy Rider” as it follows a conflicted housewife named Natalie (Shirley Knight, raw with emotion) as she runs away from home in -– of all things -– a station wagon. Natalie is newly pregnant and scared of the responsibility. She is consumed by how to carry on, or not. Coppola wisely allows Natalie to stay conflicted, notably speaking of herself in the third person. She -– purposefully unwise -– picks up a hitchhiker, a college footballer dropout (James Caan, excellent) waylaid by a devastating injury to his brain. The two wonder mostly, finding an America beautiful and patriotic, and yet corrupt and uncaring. Deeply poignant, beautifully written, and often purposefully infuriating, “Rain” provides a shot of truth about the lies we tell ourselves and others, boasting of false joy or denying our lost happiness. The movie’s stark ending is as harsh as life’s crueler turns, as it must be. Awesome credit: A guy named George Lucas is listed as production assistant. “Rain” deserves more celebration. A

Vanishing on 7th Street (2011)

Hayden Christensen is on the run in the horror/thriller “Vanishing on 7^th Street.” He runs not from cops or crooks, nor space aliens. He runs from a dark cloud that vaporizes all life that it touches. George Lucas with more “Star Wars” prequel ideas? No. More biblical plaque a la “Exodus.” The Roanoke (N.C.) mystery plays a hand. No matter, director Brad Anderson (“Casper”) never tells us. We’re in Detroit at night when thousands of people disappear during a power outage. Only a tiny handful remain: Christensen’s TV news reporter and some stragglers (Thandie Newton and John Leguizamo) and a child. They bicker, fret, and flee the dark. God is invoked, but the majority of plot is set inside a bar. A church sits down the street. The mystery is a doubled-edged sword that leads to a WTF ending with plot holes wide open: The city falls into absolute blot-out-the-sun dark, but the moon shines bright. How? In horror, details matter. Christensen plays well against an endless void. It’s all uphill after Teen Vadar. B-

Paul (2011) and Spaceballs (1987)

Within a few days of each other, I watched “Spaceballs” and “Paul,” two comedy-spoofs that kick the shins while kissing the feet of George Lucas and Steven Spielberg in their full 1970s “Star Wars” and “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” glory. Hell, this blog title is named after “Close Encounters,” so I and my fellow sci-fi geeks are a happy target, too. So on we go…

Every child of the 1980s has seen “Spaceballs,” Mel Brooks’ spoof of “Star Wars” with rips at “Star Trek,” “Planet of the Apes” and “Alien” tossed in as extras. I knew this film before I knew several of the targets, being 13 in 1987. But space battles are not what Brooks is satirizing here. Rather, he targets the crass commercialization of those films, especially Lucas’ still-insatiable thirst for dollars: The way selling childish Ewok action figures became more important than crafting a nuanced child-like imaginative finale to the hallmark trilogy of Generation X’s youth. “Spaceballs” even stops midpoint to hawk its own release on VHS, a wiser joke now with present-day instant downloads and DVD releases within 8 weeks of a theatrical run.

The plot is “Star Wars” simple: A space cowboy named Lonestar (Bill Pullman) must rescue a princess (Daphne Zuniga) from the evil Dark Helmet (Rick Moranis, stealing the film even with his face covered most of the time). Brooks plays two parts: A “Wizard of Oz”-like lizard alien named Yogurt, spoofing Yoda, and a clueless president, modeled after, dare I say, Ronald Reagan. But it’s not a laugh riot. With none of Gene Wilder’s sharp gags and line delivery from “Producers,” Brooks’ comedy flounders far more than it soars.

Brooks relies on Jewish jokes, and one penis gag after another. Those get old fast. Much of the time, “Spaceballs” just sits there, almost proudly being dull as the heroes really are an unmemorable bunch of slouches. If that joke is on purpose, it back fires. Or one wonders if Brooks’ is just coasting. My theory: He doesn’t love “Star Wars” enough to really tear into it, and have giddy dirty fun as he did in “Blazing Saddles” or “Young Frankenstein.”

Brooks might enjoy “Paul,” with its dick and smoking pot jokes and the “I’m not gay” gay humor that play throughout. Realized in spring 2011, “Paul” plays along similar lines of “Spaceballs,” but stays on Earth with a classic two pals in a road chase plot. It’s more interesting, and has better lead actors. Even better: Some big sci-fi stars pop by spoofing our image of them. And we have Jason Bateman finally (finally!) playing a bad-ass fed prick, with a black suit and a gun. He’s no pocket protector nerd here. He rocks the part.

Our focus is on two Brit sci-fi nerds (Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, who previously teamed in “Shaun of the Dead” and “Hot Fuzz”) who are in the States for Comic Con at San Diego, and then a road-trip in an RV to see Area 51, the famed Black Mailbox and all the other alien invasion hot spots dotted along America. Running from a couple red necks ala “Deliverance,” our heroes see a car crash on the desert highway. The driver: A little green alien. Just like in all the History Channel specials, big raisin head, big black eyes, wee frail body. But this guy sports the demeanor of Seth Green, the actor who made me hate “Green Hornet,” but like such fare as “Superbad.” Speaking of that, Greg Mottola, the guy who directed “Superbad,” is in charge here.

This is a love letter to all films sci-fi, and other American hits: “E.T.,” “Star Wars,” “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” “Blues Brothers,” “Thelma & Louise,” the list goes on. But there’s also a tweak of all those films, as our green guy here dismisses “E.T.” hi-jinks, and smokes a joint with his road trip buddies. There are plenty of great jokes here, but some of the film – including a bit with a Christian fanatic (Kristin Wiig) – drag. At 90 minutes, “Paul” might have been great, at more than 110 minutes, and with an ugly punch of graphic blood, this alien sticks around longer than it should. Closing on a high note: Bateman’s character sarcastically rips into his minions, each a sci-fi fanatic. “You’re a grown man, right?,” he mocks them, and us in the audience. Ouch. But clever.

“Spaceballs”: C+ “Paul”: B

The "Star Wars" Trilogy (1977-1983)

These are my takes on the original versions, not the re-tooled versions, of the original and only trilogy. To use a terrible and unnecessary phrase, "Fuck them." Sorry, I said it. (There was a prequel trilogy, what?)

My childhood defined in a single film. "Star Wars." The 1977 science fiction master of all blockbusters is too deep within my DNA to mock, dismiss, or patronize. It is a religion to me. No, correct that, it is religion to me. Period. Untold hours of play and imagination, simply staring at the poster of the film. That said, this saga about an elderly warrior (Alec Guinness) and his young apprentice (Mark Hamill as Luke Skywalker) joining ... Oh, who am I kidding? Everyone knows this film. Onto the end: George Lucas re-made cinema and movies with this imaginative fun thrill ride, and I love it. In two hours he created a universe that exists in this geek's head as real as his hometown of Philly and his grandmother's house of cakes. But, boy, Lucas can't write a lick, and the acting is too uneven to ignore. "I have a bad feeling about this" can be (and maybe is) a drinking game. The grade is too high, for real. But I don't care. This is a great, mind-blowing film, just the desert town scenes alone, I drool, I dream, I love ... A+

"The Empire Strikes Back" is where George Lucas got smart and out-sourced. The sequel is not only the highlight of the series, but quite possibly one of the greatest fantasy films ever made. Hands down. It goes dark and deep, and yes, funny, as a wounded Luke (Mark Hamill) furthers his training under the wise and mysterious Yoda, and Han Solo (Harrison Ford) and Leigh (Carrie Fisher) meet the Dark Side in the clouds. The climax is a dizzying emotional and action powder keg as Luke learns who is daddy is, and Ford delivers the absolute perfect non-romantic romantic line of all time in the face of possible death. Seriously, the carbon freezing scene and "I know" literally is my favorite film scene ever, topped only by a breaking-bad Michael Corleone. And God bless John Williams. His score here is perfect, especially during the ugly scenes. Who's your daddy?, for sure. It's all so perfectly thrilling, I never want it to end. A+

"The Return of the Jedi" easily is the weak link in the trilogy's chain, yet one of the most thrilling moments of my young movie-going life. The film is book-ended by a fantastic Empire-centered opening then a fight in the desert between our heroes and a slimy wormy gangster named Jabba (start) and a rock solid, violent clash between Luke and Darth Vadar, plus a kick-ass space battle (end). In the middle are the Ewoks. Don't like the Ewoks? I ... know. It's easy to see what Lucas was going for: A Tolkein-like morality tale where the least of warriors (Tolkein had Hobbits, Lucas has midgets and children in cheap bear outfits) bring down the mightiest of fiendish rulers. It's a lame ass kid movie move to douse the dark heart at the center of the film, and the Ewoks do look like silly MiniMes of Wookies, but what was the alternative, an obvious Wookie battle? (OK, I want that.) Yet, I love most of this, the forest chase, that final fight, and by God I still have nightmares about the ugly desert mouth pit, and I was 9 when I saw this. The vaporish gas coming off Vadar's unmasked face, brilliant. Kills the flaws.  B+

P.S. When will Lucas make a new film? Y'know, an original film?

Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008)

"Star Wars: The Clone Wars" is not as bad as I thought it would be, having read countless shattering reviews on this umpteenth film in George Lucas' endless universe. It's just a mere dud, rather than a full disaster. This is surprising as Lucas finally has what he's always wanted after 30 years of making the same movie over and over: No actors to muck things up.

This relatively short (90 minutes) chapter is fully animated (with dull voice talent) and appears to take place sometime during or near the events of "Star Wars: Episode II: Attack of the Clones." Here, Anakin Skywalker -- the future Darth Vadar -- and Obi-Wan Kenobi battle to save the kidnapped son of Jabba the Hut from the future Empire. It's a straight forward plot for a children's film, with some really slick action scenes and space battles that rekindle memories of the series' best moments.

Too bad the animation makes nearly every human or creature into a flat-as-sheetrock being less engaging than the purposefully bad animation in, say, "South Park." Mouth movements are awkward, eyes lack any spark of actual life, and Jabba the Hut is strangely geometric rather than slithering and slimy. Oh, and Anakin is referred to as "Sky Guy" throughout. Why I can't say. An added negative: If anyone thought Jar Jar Binks was an offensive portrayal of African-Americans in the recent "new" trilogy, they ought to see Jabba's nightclub-owning uncle. It is the meanest caricature of homosexuality since the "Police Academy" films ruled the box office. Fanboy students at Bob Jones and Liberty universities, and Klan members, will surely like it. All else will shudder.

Lucas, who truly ought to find a new hobby, executive produces here, having handed the directing reigns to Dave Filoni. The switch off helps marginally. Please, George, retire already! Oh, this is all to be a TV series, which probably will be worse. C-