A poster for a TV movie. Indeed.

Just in case you're wondering. This is going to be one of those reviews for a movie that I have no intention of watching carefully, and that isn't worth your time. Frankly I'd be surprised if anyone in the creation of this film actually sat down and watched it.

We start with probably the most surprising moment of the film - a title-card saying it's a film from Paramount Pictures. I need to check that that isn't spelled Paramounntt or something like that. I just checked again. That's Paramount. They made Indiana Jones. And apparently Escape from Mars as well.

A too-pretty-and-young-to-be-an astronaut tells us why she isn't scared of flying to Mars. I'm not really listening, but I assume it has something to do with kittens, yarn and the artwork of Mary Englebright. That's the kind of stuff that girls talk about, after all.

Mission Control looks like it was apparently built in my mom's basement. And it's staffed by the same people that work at the natural food market by my house: a bevy of long haired, glassy-eyed hipsters.

Is anything really "starring" Christine Elise? I think I recognize some of the actors in this film, but it's hard to know with their clothes on. It's a SkinMax's stab at legitmate filmmaking. At least in those Cinemax movies, you know you're making something bad. Ten minutes into the movie, in Cardboard Control, some hippies argue about bringing the shuttle back. Shouldn't they have discussed this before they launched the most ambitious space mission in human history. Nice that they cram all of this exposition into such a small space. That must mean that there's going to be a lot of action in the rest of this movie. Yup. Just waiting for that action to start.

Oh great. Along with all this space cheesiness, they slap on some flashbacks featuring meeting rooms that look like a dot.com cubicle. Jesus. Even the memories have to be this boring? One of the most important tennets of Robert Rodriguez's Theory of Low Budget Filmmakng, is that you should load the front half of the movie with action. It's bound to keep people interested. Escape from Mars makes no such attempt. This is a movie for the those unfortunate people with spinal cord injuries who can alone not change the channel.

Drifting in space, a crew member makes a veiled reference to the fine music of Nirvana. Yet the music coming out of the headphones sound more like the music Yanni would create by violent slapping his butt cheeks together. I don't really remember Nirvana using flange guitar and sythesizer in their compositions.

Uh-oh. Someone said aboot. I smell the bacony stink of a Canadian production. I know this is a joke from Mystery Science Theater 3000 because it is one of my favorites. I don't hate Canada but I generally hate Canadian movies that try to be American. As the ship spins aimlessly in space, the captain announces that he's getting a divorce from an earthbound wife. Wait, let me write that again. He's getting a divorce. Their systems are going down and he's talking about his love life. Yup. I don't know what's wrong with the ship, because the screenwriter was sleeping on his very-easy-job again.

These astronauts apparently do nothing more than hangout in the AV room and doodle on sketchpads. If this is what the future holds, then count me in. I guess they solved their problem with the ship, because they're running on the treadmll and doing the crosswords. The Russian's astronaut's accent turns from Eastern European to Sicilian at the drop of a very bad method acting hat. Also note: there is more than one reference to the Russian and vodka. It's simply obligatory for any movie ever made.

Now the divorce is taking center stage. They threaten to pull the mission because of a divorce? Man, weird. Couldn't they think of a better plot point than that? You know what this reminds me of? It reminds me of the time when I told you about the hippies talking in Cardboard Control about pulling the mission. It's a lot like that. The hippies must be Catholic, because they're very adverse to anyone being divorced before landing on the Red Planet.

Intrepid crew of the USS Crappy

Then there's some kind of explosion which is just an excuse for them to hide the flimsy sets under a haze of rave-like fog. Even during the explosion, the crew sits in the AV room, while the one man without a mask attempts to fix all of the systems.

And why even bother with the stock footage of the 1984 Olympics, huh fellas? We'll take your word for it that lots of people want to see the Mars landing.

Man this is a bad movie. There's no real point. It plays more like something in the background of the natural history or space museum or some such shit like that. Then two astronauts step on Mars at the same time. And this is supposed to be exciting? I suppose it's all leading up to something big at the end there. Well, only 40 mins to go...Slowly my mind is turning to mush. I can't see straight, I can't think straight. Why am I watching this? It's fifty times worse than Assault on Dome 4. At least that had some semblance of a plot (although one ripped off from Die Hard).

On the surface of the planet, some of the astronauts enter a Tuff shed where they sleep at night. Kimberly is told that her husband has died at home. I don't need to say that it's against regulations to do so, but is nonetheless a requirement of movies such as this. Then the meteror shower hits. It's as cheap as you can imagine. But instead of being excited I find myslef lulled into a gentle sleep. I never thought I'd write this, but I long for the fatty-kung-fu antics of Steven Segal. Escape from Mars isn't so much a movie as a collection of cheaply shot images and bad line readings. It's hard to make fun of something in that nether region between terrible and incompetent. Damn you Canada. Damn you.

Movie Grade: F-

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