Earth vs. The Flying Saucers (1956)

“Earth vs. The Flying Saucers” is the standard-bearer granddaddy of all “alien invasion” flicks that “Independence Day” spoofed -– yes, it’s a comedy -– in 1996. It has the doom-serving green evil invaders causing world-wide panics and raining shit on D.C. landmarks, including the Washington Memorial and the U.S. Capitol. The hero is a square-jawed dull-as-sand white guy scientist (Hugh Marlowe) who has a noggin for rockets and a new wife (Joan Taylor) with a massive need to go “Eeek!” and much 1950s pre-feminism crap. Watch this and you will see the blueprint of films released now, even “Man of Steel.” It’s wildly corny with actors seemingly embarrassed to be in front of the camera, especially when Marlowe wears an alien helmet. The ending defines anti-climactic as the end action is doled out on a freakin’ beach radio. I guess the budget for Ray Harryhausen’s special effects puttered out. (I dig the hell out of those.) This is a trite marker of the Keep America White Era, wonderfully sucker punched by Roland Emmerich in his “ID4,” with heroes black and Jewish. None of those people to be seen here. Yeah, I’m political. B

Signs (2002)

I loved M. Night Shyamalan’s box-office-smash ghost story “Sixth Sense,” and dug the under-appreciated bleak superhero thinker “Unbreakable.” For me, sky was the limit for Shyamalan when his alien-invasion flick “Signs” hit cinemas. I was stoked. Then I saw it. Sky fell. Hard and fast, and has never risen again. This is a painful, awkward, insulting film to sit through, the absolute symbol of bad cinema to me. Not just when Shyamalan unleashes his trademark “gotchya!” shocker when a legion of world-invading aliens turn out to be allergic to water (!) on a planet full of water, but the whole damn dull story of a faithless priest (Mel Gibson) living with his young children and faithless baseball player brother (Joaquin Phoenix, young enough to be Gibson’s son). Hours drag by as the titular crop circles appear, the plot is set for the green visitors to arrive, and then the climax comes and a glass of H2O and a Louisville slugger are the weapons of choice. Ridiculous. This is the moment where a star filmmaker turned incredulous hack, when Shyamalan screamed aloud, “They’ll love it,” and no one said, “No.” He’s never recovered. F