Leon, a.k.a., The Professional (1994) and The Fifth Element (1997)

Director Luc Besson was ambitious during the 1990s, hot off his French hit “La Femme Nikita,” about a troubled woman trained to become an assassin back when such ideas were, “Whoa, who woulda thunk?” (Recall, this was long before the silly “Lucy.”

“Leon” –- known in the U.S. as “The Professional” –- offers a spin on that as a 12-year-old NYC girl (Natalie Portma, in her debut) is taken in by a hitman (Jean Reno) after her uncaring, vile family is murdered by DEA thugs. She mourns only her toddler brother. Gary Oldman is the head DEA agent, an evil freak who pops Quaaludes like chocolate. Young Matoilda wants to learn the assassin trade to kill Oldman and his badged thugs. Leon reluctantly agrees. But Matilda is troubled as she mistakes adoration for a fatherly figure for sexual attraction. In a huge misstep, Besson introduces this dynamic and then runs away from it. He opts for massive, very artsy gunplay instead, and it is wildly entertaining, the entire long climax involving Leon and every cop in the city. My college pals all loved the film, but I still find it a bit too loose for its own good. Oldman’s cop is far more amusing than dangerous. Put this guy up against any Joe Pesci character from the era, he’d fold like pancake batter. Reno has never been better. And I knew back then Portman was something to behold: Tragic, funny, confused, angry; she amazes. B

 “Fifth Element” gleefully torches any set standard. Oldman returns as the villain, doing a twisted take on -– I gather -– Marvin the Martian as an arms dealer out to steal precious alien stones that could save Earth from annihilation. Oldman’s Jean-Baptiste Emmanuel Zorg (awesome name!) insists he’ll make money off the ensuing chaos. A Republican? No matter. He’s up against Bruce Willis as Korben Dallas, ex-soldier turned cab driver in 23rd century Brooklyn. By winking coincidence, Korben has stumbled on Earth’s new savior, a fiery ginger head named Leeloo (Milla Jovovich). Part action/comedy, “Firth” is a love letter to “Star Wars” and “Blade Runner” -– both made when Besson was a teen. He spills references -- Leia hair buns, a familiar brown robe, and Brion James (RIP) – so fast, they fly by. “Fifth” also is a must for oddball film score buffs, thank you, Eric Serra. The best joke: Willis’ hero and Oldman’s villain never meet, separated by the most (purposefully) contrived circumstances. VIP is Chris Tucker as an androgynous DJ who ends up narrating the action. Some found his Ruby Rhod a disaster, I love the WTF attitude of him (her?). A-

Jupiter Ascending (2015)

I have a love/hate thing with the Wachowski siblings Andy and Lana (ne Larry). “Matrix”? One of the best action films ever. Sequels? Crap. “Cloud Atlas”? An epic too messy to land, but I loved the struggle. Now comes “Jupiter Ascending,” a sci-fi jumble of storyboards turned into overdone CGI fireworks that never spark. The Wachowskis think they have something as profound as “Dune” on their hands. Reality: This is nothing more than a “Flash Gordon” retread, complete with the space-man hero (Channing Tatum) crashing through a cathedral ceiling to save the damsel (Mina Kunis) from marrying some wicked creep. And it’s not even funny. Tatum’s hero is a half-man/half-dog soldier, while Kunis plays a janitor who is the reincarnated clone of a dead space queen. When Tatum’s hero tells Jones she *owns* Earth, literally, our gal gawks and wonders if he *loves* her. Is she 14? Mentally afflicted? Sean Bean sulks about, bored. Eddie Redmayne -– hot off “Theory of Everything” –- fly spits everywhere, over-acting. Nonsensical, edited to ribbons -– continuity errors abound -– and insanely overly complicated, I should have taken the blue pill. D

Seconds (1966)

John Frankenheimer serves another perfect thriller with “Seconds” after “Manchurian Candidate” and “Train.” This is a “Twilight Zone”-like sci-fi-horror about that foolish notion we all wonder: What if I zagged left not right? Moved there not here? You get it. What if’s never end. This is the hell-pit answer. John Randolph is banker Arthur -– bored empty nester pissed at the capitalist lie he swallowed from birth –- who finds himself with a crazy proposition: He can fake his death and get a new identity in the form of Rock Hudson. Newly renamed, Antiochus joins a hippie commune. Sex. Freedom. Is liberalism as much a mirage as white-shirt conservatism? Beautifully played with a barrage of warped lenses – the cinematography is by James Wong Howe of “Sweet Smell of Success” fame -- this movie is a true deep shocker that left me breathless long after the credits. As a man with a new body and voice who cannot shake old gestures and hesitations, Randolph and Hudson pop brilliant, actors who could have shared a Best Actor Oscar. Frankenheimer is my favorite director and this is another hit in a series of paranoid-heavy movies that crack men’s psyches open, baring dark truths. A+

About Time (2014)

Writer/director Richard Curtis (“Love Actually”) gives the time travel genre a romantic jolt with “About Time,” a comedy drama that would leave a Terminator wet eyed. On his 21^st birthday, gawky Tim (Domhnall Gleeson) learns from his dad (Bill Nighy) that the men in his family can time travel. How so? Never explained. (What about the women, eh?) What is important is that Tim cannot pop Hitler or meet Van Gogh. He only can travel within his own lifetime. Indifferent to wealth or fame, Tim wants to fall in love. That he does with art geek Mary (Rachel McAdams), who shares a first name with Tim’s mother, a factoid our boy awkwardly share every time they meet. I do mean “every time” as Tim replays meeting Mary on repeat until it’s perfect, a fantasy every human likely plays out in their mind. In a move that’s on the sleeve and quite welcome for it, Curtis tips that fantasy is wasteful: Enjoy the moment, be it awkward, soggy, messy, or glorious. Perfectly ordinary, Gleeson and McAdams are a delight together. Some of the funniest bits are the side roads, especially Tim feeding a forgetful VIP actor his lines from off stage. A-

Edge of Tomorrow (2014)

Live. Die. Repeat. That’s the smart mantra behind “Edge of Tomorrow,” the unfortunately titled but damn entertaining Tom Cruise sci-fi actioner that marries “Groundhog Day” to “Starship Troopers.” The trailers promises action and explosions. Those we get. But it’s also a surprisingly funny romp about a pompous PR-hack-turned-soldier (Cruise) who resurrects every time he is killed in battle against alien creatures that mesh robotics and Red Lobster dinner fare. How so? Not important. What is of interest: Dozens of those deaths are comedy gold such as when Cruise -– let’s face it, the guy has ego to spare –- eats some tires getting run over while escaping push-up duty. But there’s a better reason to cheer: Emily Blunt plays the kick-ass hero who pummels Cruise’s worm into a deadly warrior. Blunt -– best known for comedy -– is damn good. Never weak per some script mandate. Cruise again gives his all, his eyes going from vacant to deadly smart. Director Doug Liman (“Bourne Identity”) wraps up with a popcorn friendly finale, but the ride is worth repeat views. Female hero. Pure send-up of macho action tropes. Bill Paxton satirizing “Aliens” bravado. Far better than its given title. B+

Crossworlds (1996)

Rutger Hauer in 1982 did the impossible: He stole “Blade Runner” from Harrison Ford, copping the greatest ad-lib in film history, talking tears and attack ships. “Crossworlds” is no “Blade Runner,” or much of anything. It follows a college student (Josh Charles, later of “Sports Night”) who gets swept up in an adventure with powerful warriors (Hauer as the wise elder and Andrea Roth as the hot-head fighter) who can jump dimensions using magical sticks as they battle for the universe’s survival against a natty, nattering British type (Stuart Wilson). There’s a whole bit about Charles’ student’s dead father being a genius/archeologist/hero, but I forget the details. Plot holes abound, the story seems random, and I kept waiting for the pace to quicken after countless scenes of Wilson’s villain yammering about power, me thinking, please, someone kill someone. Threats of sequel arise. None ever came. Thank the gods. C-

Riddick (2013)

Vin Diesel’s night-vision bad ass hero returns in the aptly named “Riddick,” a sequel to the overstuffed “Dune”-wannabe “Chronicles of Riddick,” a boring, wrongly safe PG-13 pitched sequel to the lean “Pitch Black,” a bloody R-rated flick. Life is restored. Mostly. Think of Riddick as akin to the Man With No Name films set in space, but here we know the man’s name. A man of few words, Riddick is a just killer hunted by criminals and lawmen alike. (If only he smoked, but even that is too un-P.C.) Minutes from the start he is stranded on a blighted planet and becomes the prey of bounty hunters (among them is Katee Sackhoff of TV’s “Battlestar Galactica”). Mayhem ensues before hunters and hunted must join forces to battle freakish worms that thrive at night. So the plot is “Pitch Black” throwback, but the worms slurping out of the mud and eating people had me thinking of the Kevin Bacon comedy “Tremors.” And laughing. Oops. I liked the Sergio Leone feel; hated the unneeded female nudity and the tired “Chronicles” follow-ups best left forgotten. Vin Diesel makes a great hero with a growl. Put this man in a Western already. B-

Ender’s Game (2013)

I have not read “Ender’s Game,” but I imagined it a sci-fi “All Quiet on the Western Front,” with children pushed into war, facing the horror of taking another life or forfeiting one’s own. 

That was my thinking going into this epic with Harrison Ford as a ruthless military commander and Asa Butterfield (“Hugo”) as the young hero nicknamed Ender pushed into action, his talent resting on war game tactics. 

The war is in outer space against arachnid-like creatures that seem a staple of sci-fi, and SyFy. Years ago -– the movie’s past, our future -– the beings attacked Earth. We beat them, barely, but now they’re back. All of humanity rests on young warriors -– rough age 15 -- sent into space to do battle. Why no adults? Youth play better outside the rules. 

Imagine the weight of that. I mean the emotional weight. Horror. Fear. Awe. Being 15 and in outer space. “Ender’s” has none of that. It’s inert, unable to fully comprehend its moral quandary -– child soldiers –- that is, sadly, not uncommon even today. 

The supposed shocking left hook that ends Ender never fully lands because director Gavin Hood (“X-men: Wolverine”) has never lets us see the stakes of these kids’ lives, or those of their families, or Earth. There is no threat. (And any faux threat is poorly faked.)

Everything is implied (badly) as these brainy youth practice Zero G laser tag for a battle they’ll never encounter. The enemy is only encountered in simulations or dreams, and how can we understand *that*. 

Oh, Butterfield is a great actor, and you can see how the boy is not faking playing the smartest kid in the room. But as a character, Ender never hooked me. Ditto Hailee Steinfeld as fellow warrior. She has little to go on, but Supportive Female, and the intensity she brought to “True Grit” evaporates. 

Scenes involving Ender being bullied, once in a shower, fail to bring the least hint of danger. Because the bully is a foot shorter and a blockhead. 

“Game” has no strategy except perfect CGI and important Actors (Ben Kingsley, Viola Davis, and Ford, the latter looking as if he’d just rather retire) standing about to remind us we are watching Something Important. No. 

A film, even YA-targeted, tackling *this* subject matter should leave one horrified, not set up for a spiffy sequel that feels laughably like, well, Spaceman Spiff. “Hunger Games” plays far harder. C-

After Earth (2013)

“After Earth” must be mocked. How else to react to a sci-fi survivalist tale from once-great director/writer M. Night Shyamalan that is set on a desolated/abandoned future Earth, but one that looks like a commercial for a tropical adventure? (Cities? There are none.) This is absolute unintended comedy, a wonder of miscalculation. Despite MNS’s name, Will Smith is the man in charge as producer and story creator, and it isn’t even his vehicle. The star is Smith’s teenage son Jaden, who had better luck and better support in pop’s “Pursuit of Happyness” and the recent “Karate Kid” remake. The syrupy story has a “Great Santini” father (Will) and his green horn son (Jaden) all angry dinner scowls and then later crashing their space shuttle on said Earth. Naturally, the duo must bond as son serves as the “avatar” hero of his father, whose legs are shattered. Also in the shuttle and now loose on Earth because no space cliché can go untouched: A slimy monster that eats people. I can take hodge-podge films that wink at their theft, but “Earth” is blindly, awkwardly convinced of its own “inspirational” Hallmark gruel. It's just gruel. Younger Smith looks miserable. C-

A.I.: Artificial Intelligence (2001)

Steven Spielberg’s “A.I.: Artificial Intelligence” is a train wreck masterpiece I love all the more because it derails, because the guy who some critics continuously dismiss aims for the sun and misses, but comes oh so close. And leaves us stunned, too. Spielberg could coast on every film he makes. In “A.I..,” he spins wild chances and smashes down a scene midway through so devastating, it leaves one reeling flat, near in tears. 

Inspired by “Pinocchio” and a screenplay by Stanley Kubrick –- a master of cold dread –- Spielberg’s tale follows a humanoid boy (Haley Joel Osment) adopted by a couple (Sam Robards and Frances O’Connor) whose own son lies in a coma. Young, perfect David is a little boy balm until the “real” son Martin (Jake Thomas) reawakens. 

David is programmed to be loved. Martin wants to mommy to himself. Two events paint David as a family danger, and so mommy –- here’s the killer scene -– abandons David in a forest; she weeps, David begs, and Spielberg lays bare every child’s worst nightmare: Your parents do not truly love you, you are a fake. 

From there, the film flies high and nose dives hard as David falls into a nightmare world that involves grisly robot gladiator arenas, needless voice cameos (Chris Rock? Robin Williams?), and a search for the Blue Fairy to make David a “real” boy, just like … Martin? 

I won’t spoil more. Much of it works and a good bit does not as Spielberg takes on The End of the World, but really is pulling out the end of childhood innocence, that blind-faith moment when children firmly believe mommy and daddy are good, and will always be there, keeping you -- all that matters in the world –- safe. Which is more tragic?  

Osment is so amazing. I still bristle he did not get a Best Actor nomination. Unnaturally warm and bright, unblinking, desperate to please, and able to regurgitate a call, he is flawless, yet unmistakably eerie. Early in, tricked by Martin into cutting their mother’s hair, David pleads, “I just wanted mommy to love me. More.” That quick pause, before the word “more,” is true horror for the youngest of us, scarier than any death in “Jaws.” 

Speaking of that classic Spielberg film, John Williams provides the score here and it’s truly one of his best, and with certain beats recalling the wonder of “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.” A-

Rollerball (1975)

In 2018 super-corporations rule the world in a soulless oligopoly as every need is served by nameless businesses. Government and freedom of choice is dead. Citizen-consumers are told to do their part and buy, buy, and obey, making the corporations even wealthier. It’s the dream world of the modern Koch Brothers, Consumers United, and right-wing GOP greed. I digress, but that’s the world behind 1975’s “Rollerball,” a futuristic nightmare flick that focuses on a roller rink blood sport that’s like basketball on wheels, with spikes, motor bikes, and death. James Caan is Jonathan, the Michael Jordon of the sport, a long-time veteran at the top of the game. Until the Corporate Gods tell him to stop. Why? No man can rise against the Corporate Elite. Damn, this is a fine premise. It’s predictions are crazy eerie. The film itself, directed by Norman Jewison? A dud. Caan -– who can deny his screen power? -– appears bored, the pace glacial, and the cheapo imagery amateurish. Oh, there’s a fantastic bit that foresees the rise of the ’Net and the fall of books, but like the Koch Brothers warning, it belongs in a better movie. C+

Elysium (2013)

After South African filmmaker Neil Blomkamp made instant classic “District 9,” he had to go big. So, it’s inevitable that his studio summer flick “Elysium” would disappoint. The hero here is Max (Matt Damon), an do-gooder ex-con in 2154 who suffers an accidental death-sentence radiation dose at work, where he builds the RoboCops that abuse the populace. Max won’t die quiet. He wants to get his ass to Elysium, a glistening, guarded spaceship hovering over Earth like a second moon. Ninety-nine percenters alert: Elysium is home only to the rich, and features medical machines that cure any injury or illness. Earth? It’s crowded, dying. Now oddly armored with an exoskeleton from “Aliens,” Max is out for Elyisum, but has to pass through a bounty hunter (Sharlto Copley of “9”) and a military honcho (Jodie Foster, dishing a whack accent). Bound to Hollywood cliché now, Blomkamp tosses in an angelic childhood sweetheart (Alice Braga) with an adorable Dickens preschooler with end-stage leukemia, who also needs curing. What will Max do? Blomkamp’s visuals thrill, but as the climax grinds too easy and “9” echoed too deeply, his leftist sci-fi throwdown feels a weak second effort. B

Sharknado and Pacific Rim (both 2013)

“Sharknado” and “Pacific Rim.” Two films, two end-of-world disasters. One winner, but not who you or I expect.

There’s a scene at the end of craptastic cheap-o SyFy Channel flick “Sharknado” that drops the mike on “Pacific Rim,” a $200 million summer CGI flick from writer/director Guillermo del Toro. Facing raining sharks, heroic bar owner Ian Ziering (“Beverly Hills, 90210”) grabs a chainsaw (!) and leaps into the mouth (!!!) of a shark as it jumps him (!!!!). He then slices his way out of the beast, dragging with him his blood-soaked barmistresses, who was swallowed hole and mid-air by the same shark moments before. Brilliant! 

That gem of Fuck It! lunacy comes after a god-awful film that’s a high mark of guilty-pleasure joy. (Alternating between pain and hilarity: Watching Tara Reid “act,” girl cannot stand still without appearing as if the act is taxing her I.Q.) 

Shot and edited seemingly on the fly by director Anthony Ferrante, “Sharknado” makes you think, “Why hasn’t anyone done this before?” No wonder this $2 million flick jumped to theaters. This is a film to watch with an audience, preferably drunk. Take a shot every time the light mismatches. (You'll be under the table before 10 minutes are done.)

“Rim” has been dubbed “original” by critics, an odd gesture as the entire premise of giant robots fighting giant dino-monsters has been the fodder of afternoon playtime by millions of 10-year-old boys. Roar!  Punch! Crash! Is there more? No. Every character is “one-note,” from Grieving Action Hero to Angry Australian and Tough Boss. Dull. Among the cast is Idris Elba,a great Brit actor who cannot decide on an accent, his native Brit, or some bad put-on American accent. Mind you, I would never complain to his face.

But this is not about people, only the spectacle of massive Iron Men trash beating Jurassic Park monsters from another dimension. The kick in the face, though: Every battle takes places at night in the rain, or under water in the dark, rendering details blurry. The heart of the 10-year-old inside me sunk. 

Still, a few scenes rule: A baby monster goes after a character in a jump, pause, jump scene that is an absolute howl. Buildings get knocked around, whole ships get used as bats, and -- in a scene that plays like a bunch of kids making up the rules as they go along -- a hero robot pulls out a magic sword to render an opponent asunder. That is not a hidden message, I mean a magic sword is pulled out of no where. The laughter is intended, yes? I hope.

It’s not all a loss. Del Toro, who made child-horror classic “Pan’s Labyrinth,” one of the best films of young century, has great fun with a plot involving two mad scientists –- one a mathematician (Burn Gorman) with the voice of Ludwig Von Drake, and the other a fan boy biologist (Charlie Day) with the personality of Louis Tully from “Ghostbusters.” The duo is joined by Ron “Hellboy” Perlman as a trader of monster flesh who meets a fate crazily similar to that of Ziering in “Sharknado.” But, post credits, he only has a wussy switchblade to freedom. Against a chainsaw, that will not do. Not for del Toro.

Sharknado:  B+ / Pacific Rim: B-

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

The Host (2013)

Leave it to “Twilight” writer Stephanie Meyer to create an aliens-take-over-the-world drama involving a vapid teen girl torn between two boys who –- I kid you not -– at different points choke and punch her. That’s “The Host.” Much like the creepy romance of “Twilight.” The story: All of humanity has been body-snatched by glowing alien crawfish that plunder one’s consciousness, rendering people thoughtless puppets. Melanie (Saoirse Ronan) -– our “heroine” -- is thus soul-sucked, but her urge to rejoin kin/fellow resistance fighters is so strong, she rebels inside her own head. This leads to Ronan endlessly and out loud debating her own voice-over, resulting in our alternating cringing and laughing. The girl(s) finds her tribe-like people, including two interchangeable guys who -– as I said -– thump her. Why? Melanie is now untrustworthy. The Meyer trick: Human Melanie and Crawfish Melanie are each in love with one of the guys. Neither ever considers, “Wow, these assholes hit women. I’m out.” Meyer. Director Andrew Niccol has done better future sci-fi with “Gattaca,” and Ronan rocked in “Atonement” and “Hanna.” Her irises glowing like “Tron” discs and reciting drivel, she evaporates here. The “months later” epilogue feels all too true. D-

Star Trek Into Darkness (2013)

In 2009 when J.J. Abrams rebirthed the “Star Trek” franchise into eyeball-popping entertainment with enough heart to make you weep 5 minutes in, I wondered what he could do with “Star Wars.” So, I got goose bumps watching “Star Trek Into Darkness,” a stellar summer sequel packed with franchise-glory-era political bite that also puts the “alternate reality” roles of Kirk and Spock in full ownership of Chris Pine and Zachary Quinto. But Abrams isn’t afraid to dip back into lore and resurrect ideas and enemies, taking beats we know by heart and spinning them 180 with new blood or a wink. Here, a Starfleet wonder boy named John Harrison (Benedict Cumberbatch, fuckin’ awesome) declares war on his own and, of course, our heroes must stop him. But with Abrams, nothing is simple as –- nerd alert –- Peter “RoboCop” Weller, is the boss in charge. This boasts ego, characters crashing and lifting each other up, American commentary, crippled tech, a self-sacrifice, a perfect cameo, and a madman so … beloved … to us geeks and electrifyingly alive, we want to fall under his spell. What Abrams can do with “Star Wars” has me dizzy with anticipation. A-

Oblivion (2013)

Futuristic thriller “Oblivion” is a surprising effort from Tom Cruise and director/writer Joseph Kosinski for all the wrong reasons: It’s a dud film timed for Earth Day. Every scene, fight, character, and reveal is recycled from better films in my DVD collection. 

Cruise is Jack, a memory-wiped repair guy on a wasted 2077 Earth who looks after massive machinery that provides energy for humanity, now stored up on a spaceship and ready to bolt for distant refuge. Jack is alone but for his monotone (and ginger-haired) companion (Andrea Riseborough) who runs his life. A robot in high heels, her.

“Oblivion” is a knock-out artistically, but it’s also -– in case you haven’t been paying attention -– a nonsensical awful reverse of “Moon,” a new-classic sci-fi films. Yes, Jack meets another Jack. Really. Duncan Jones could sue. Also lazily ripped: “2001,” “Star Wars” and “Independence Day,” among others. No moment of this thriller thrills, it rehash future where reveals land like bricks.

When Cruise’s hero inexplicibly (mind wipe!) recalls a football game, I forgot I like him as an actor. Kosinski made “Tron: Legacy,” another great-looking sci-fi epic stuck in the past. Pattern? C

X-Files: I Want to Believe (2008)

I watched the supernatural “X-Files” TV series with so-so religious devotion, and the 1998 “X-Files: Fight the Future” film was well-timed, bringing back paranormal FBI agent investigators Mulder (David Duchovny) and Scully (Gillian Anderson). Yet, by the time “X-Files: I Want to Believe” came 10 years later, I was over the show. So seem the actors and creator/director Chris Carter. This is a “stand-alone” episode, not just in theme, but time. It’s more akin to “Se7en.” Not anything to obsess over. Here, Scully works miserably at a Catholic hospital, while Mulder clips news articles and miserably grows a beard. A perplexing case involving a missing FBI agent, a severed arm, and a psychic criminal priest (Billy Connolly) brings our heroes back to flashlights in the dark and grisly conspiracies, and as the mystery is uncovered, the limits of PG-13 ratings are stretched as is any semblance of logic: A hero hears dogs barking in No Where West Virginia and instantly recognizes the bad guy’s lair. Really? No one here has been to West Virginia, the snow screams Canada. Believe? My faith vanished long ago. C+

Time Lock (1996)

“Time Lock” is the kind of awful where you laugh not at what’s on screen –- OK, I did a bit of that -– but at yourself for foolishly waiting for something good to occur, a hint of brains from the folks in the credits. No doing. 

First: There is no time lock in “Time Lock.” Rather, we’re in the “‘Die Hard’ on a …” genre, where the unlikely hero (comedian Arye Gross) is a computer hacker sent to a space asteroid prison that’s taken over by a ninja-type (Jeffrey Meek) out to free his criminal mentor (Jeff Speakman). Robert Munic directs with a sledgehammer, every scene garishly louder than it needs to be, and every actor off his leash to just go nuts and make it look good because no one wants to waste film. Gross cracks jokes, flails arms, and does tricks. Magic, I mean. Not sex acts. 

A WTF scene: Our hero sets ninja guy on fire -- fully engulfed -– and in the next scene the dude has not a hair out of place. I thought of “Highlander.” Even for 1990s low-brow sci-fi fluff, “Time Lock” is a time killer. D

Highlander (1986) and Highlander 2: The Quickening (1991)

Has there ever been a fantasy franchise with such a genius hook more crapped from the beginning than “Highlander”? I love the premise: A 16^th century Scottish warrior is killed in battle, but arises from the grave whole and healed for he is Immortal, an ubermensch race known only to their own kind. They are determined to kill one another until only one is left. 

In the original, hero Connor McCloud (Christopher Lambert) learns of his powers, lives for centuries, relocates to New York, and finally must battle Clancy Brown as Kurgan, which means He Who Cannot Enunciate. 

The plot is good, but the cheap dialogue and director Russell Mulcahy’s relentlessly vulgar metal-band rock video antics are blinding. This bargain-bin Michael Bay never lets his actors or story breathe being too busy shattering glass and blowing up water. Sean Connery as an Egyptian-turned-Spaniard mentor living in Scotland is some kind of painful joke, and the man is dressed like a bed pillow. But it’s all watchable. 

Not so DOA sequel “Quickening,” a cinematic cluster-fuck from the start that rewrites the Immortals as time-traveling aliens in a story too baffling to explain. Michael Ironside looks ashamed as the villain. 

Original: C+ The sequel: F