The Star Wars Holiday Special - 1978

Few artistic endeavors have entirely missed the mark more than the Star Wars Holiday Special. Made for CBS Television, the special aired only once, the night of Friday, November 17, 1978. So heavy was the emotional damage wreaked by this two-hour special, it was never aired again, and all the poor children innocently anticipating seeing their favorite Star Wars characters were left with only a scar and a desire to forget. And the world did forget… for a while. 

Then, sometime in the 1990s, recorded copies began to resurface. The wounds had healed enough for some to embrace the Star Wars Holiday Special for what it really is: a shitty made-for-television holiday special, but one that somehow manages to grasp the elusive distinction of “so-bad-it’s-good-or-at-least-ridiculous-enough-to-be-amusing” few films attain by actually trying to make something good.

The special starts out fair enough, with familiar characters and vehicles in a familiar situation, as one would expect from a holiday special rooted in an established franchise. Imperial Star Destroyers are in pursuit of the Millennium Falcon, piloted by Han Solo and Chewbacca (of course). Through some subpar dialogue we learn Han (yes, Harrison Ford was a part of this mess) is going through all this to bring Chewie home to his family for Life Day, the most important wookie day of the year. Still feeling like a decent holiday special at this point, but then the real introduction begins. You thought the Star Wars Holiday Special would be full of your favorite characters from A New Hope? Ha! Guess again, junior. Their cameos amount to maybe five or ten minutes of screen time throughout the two-hour special.

Instead, feast your eyes upon Star Wars favorites such as Bea Arthur! Art Carney! Harvey Korman! Jefferson Starship! Diahann Carroll (I still don’t know who the hell she is)! It’s almost like they checked around for actors and musicians kids cared about the least and signed them up, but I know that’s not true. What they really did was scrap together anyone they could get and put the motherfucker into production. I can’t even put into words how enraged I am at the notion that someone thought Art Carney was a good fit for Star Wars. It’s an expression of feelings that could only be displayed through self-mutilation, and I’m not going there.

Unfortunately, the cast of retirees isn’t the worst fate suffered by the Star Wars Holiday Special. They needed a focus for the special, a frame story to tie together all the varying segments, and Chewbacca’s family was the best they could come up with. I don’t mind the fact they used new characters for the holiday special. In fact, it’s a good way to broaden the universe, which in 1978 was limited to A New Hope. But Chewbacca’s family? Chewie, while an interesting and likable sidekick to Han Solo, is not exactly a character with any sort of depth whatsoever. What more do we need to know about he and his family? Short answer: nothing. Regardless, this special will spend two hours trying to convince you otherwise. 

Malla, Chewie’s wife, is off-putting and quite unattractive even by wookie standards. I get the feeling we’re supposed to empathize with this character but the writers forgot to give a reason. Itchy, Chewie’s father, is a disgusting old flea-bag with an inexplicably oversized underbite. He’s completely unpleasant and difficult to look at. Finally there's Chewbacca’s son, Lumpy (yes, Lumpy). Through repeated viewings I’ve actually taken to Lumpy, making him the only character I like in this whole pile of shit, poor excuse for a Star Wars special. His mom and grandpa constantly yell at him because he’s an annoying kid, yet he never seems to earn the harsh treatment he gets, nor is he ever compensated for the cruelty. Maybe it was meant as comic relief, but a family belittling their child during the holidays comes off as depressing.

What comes after the introductions is undoubtedly one of the most surreal segments ever broadcast on network television, and I’m a big fan of "Twin Peaks." Shot on what looks to be soap opera-quality film stock of the day, Lumpy runs down the staircase into the living room, playing with a toy X-Wing. The home is quite hospitable; a person could live there with ease. And that’s what makes all of this so goddamned strange, because instead of a six-year-old boy, we have a wookie of about the same proportions running about in a cozy sitcom setting and we’re supposed to just accept it as if everything is okay.

Adding to the confusion and alienation is the fact wookies don’t speak English, and as in the films, the audience isn’t supplemented with any subtitles to inform them of the actual dialogue. In the films it works, because Chewie is always conversing with Han or another humanoid who translates via dialogue. For most of the special, there is only the three wookies conversing amongst themselves, leaving the audience guessing at what’s being said through body language. Except nothing interesting is happening. If there was action it’d be a different story, but mostly it’s wookies doing menial tasks like cooking and cleaning. Who gives a shit?

Now, let’s pause for a second. It’s 2014 as I’m typing this sentence. We’re well aware of the primary Star Wars characters. To call Star Wars a cultural phenomenon would be a vast understatement. In one way or another, Star Wars has probably found a way to creep into every facet of our lives. But in 1978, this was not the case. The franchise was brand-spanking-new with only one film under its belt, meaning the characters were far less established, not to mention there were still plenty of people in the world who hadn’t seen A New Hope. Imagine someone flipping through channels on that fateful November night and, free of context, randomly coming across the scene of Lumpy running around the house like a goofball. No subtitles for the grunts and moans of the wookies, no screen-crawl to telling them “You’re watching the Star Wars Holiday Special.” Absolutely nothing to help explain what in Vader’s name is going on. People must have thought they were in Hell. They may have been right.

Anyways, the kid runs around, gets hassled by his family, Itchy consoles Malla as she pines for Chewie (the stupidest thing I’ve ever typed), we have no idea what’s going on. Lumpy sits down to watch a Cirque du Soleil show on what appears to be a Holochess board. Remember that scene in A New Hope with the claymation figures stomping each other? Well this is nothing like that. Instead, a flamboyant little green guy with a huge feather on his head marches out tooting a horn. This guy couldn’t look less like a Star Wars character. What’s with his one big boot? Then some fluffy pink folks follow and we’re treated to a circus routine no one asked for or wanted that takes too long and features a soundtrack much like the sound of going insane. Lumpy is delighted, of course, clapping and smiling that lunatic smile of his.

When it’s over, his mom yells for him to get his ass over to the sink and start washing those dishes, in wookie of course. She then decides to give Luke Skywalker a call, because they’ve apparently become well acquainted between the end of A New Hope and whenever this is supposed to take place. Poor Mark Hamill had recently suffered the auto accident that damaged his face, made worse by the make-up someone caked him with. Despite being the main hero of the trilogy, Luke has the least screen time of any of the primary characters.

Mark Hamill's reaction to the script.

Luke and R2-D2 are working on Luke’s X-Wing when they receive the video call. “Look Artoo, it’s Chewbacca’s family.” The forced cuteness in this scene is nauseating. It’s also the first of many calls Malla makes to various other characters in search of her husband, though they all tell her basically the same thing. “Oh, he’s late? He must’ve run into trouble.” Well, no shit. The scene hits a low when Luke gets Malla to crack a smile despite her Life Day woes. Awkward and uncomfortable.

Immediately following her conversation with Luke, Malla places another video call (the screen animation while these calls are being placed is god-awful, like a kaleidoscope filled with vomit), this time to a trading post on Wookie Planet C. Cut to scene with Art Carney. Art. Carney. I've already stated how all words manage to escape me when I try to express the absolute ridiculousness of casting Art Carney in a special targeted at young people and/or Star Wars fans. It has to do with the piss-boiling anger I feel towards those responsible for such poor decision making. It’s like they didn’t care. It’s as though they figured by riding the coattails of A New Hope’s success they could get away with anything. It’s condescending and they got the shaming they deserved when this whole special flopped on its ass. So yeah, Art Carney, kids, in the role of trader Saun Dann, a character you’ve never heard of before or since. He’s got a bigger role than Luke, Han, Leia and Chewie combined. Just to prove Hell is real the old bastard’s shirt is unbuttoned down to his gut.

Anyway, we get a sketch of an Imperial Guard shopping in Saun Dann’s shop. Carney, yucking it up with unfunny gags, tries to sell the guard a mini-aquarium full of plain old earth fish. Just as the scene begs the question “What the hell is the point?” Saun Dann notices Malla calling on his monitor, linking us back with the main story we’ve felt so deeply involved in up until now. Saun Dann correctly guesses Malla is wondering about Chewbacca and, much to the annoyance of probably anyone watching, proceeds to give her a long, hardly coded answer so as not to alert the guard. He refers to Chewie as a shaggy carpet currently on route for delivery. An old woman made the carpet, by hand. Solo. GET IT?! So yes, he’s coming. How does Saun Dann know anything about anything? Make something up. You'll come up with something better than the writers, I guarantee it.

The shop scene concludes with another minute or so of unfunny bits. An element worth mentioning is the obvious dubbing of the guard’s voice. He’s given a Cobra Commander-esque hissing tone. The guy sounds like a real baddie, until you see his face, and realize he’s just some regular schmo with a tidy little mustache. They hide the dubbing by never showing his face when he’s talking. So why not cast someone else? Moving on.

In the next scene DARTH VADER, but the special has already gone so far off the rails he feels pasted-in and out of place. Let’s ponder this a minute. The character George Lucas (incorrectly) believes is the sole reason for Star Wars to exist. Much of the shittiness of the prequels is due to the dependence of the story on Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader and his being shoehorned into responsibility for basically all events that occurred in the original trilogy. And yet here is an entry in the Star Wars universe where the character simply doesn’t belong. He’s too good. Indeed, even though the prequels tainted his cool factor, Vader is still arguably the greatest Star Wars character, in the same league as Yoda and Boba Fett. So yeah, far too awesome of a character to be wasted in this pile of shit. It doesn’t even look like they bothered getting David Prowse into costume. The clip could very well be stock footage from A New Hope, though I haven’t watched that recently enough to be sure. Regardless, the scene is brief and we never see Vader in the flesh again throughout the special. He was allowed to keep his dignity, at least for another twenty years.

Speaking of dignity, the next bit has absolutely none. Harvey Korman, in the first of many humorless roles, plays Gormaanda, a female cooking show host watched by Malla. It’s by far my least favorite sketch in the special, because in addition to being unfunny, it’s also just plain foul. Actually, “unfunny” is an insufficient description for this bit. It’s more like negative-funny, as in it’s going to take even more hilarity to make you laugh the next time you find yourself in the presence of something humorous, so deep into the hole this sketch has sunk you. Korman makes for a disgusting woman, says nothing remotely comedic, some extra arms pop out, the end. Malla gives up in frustration. We’re all pretty frustrated at this point.

Just to keep the kids at home from changing the fucking channel, there’s another Han Solo/Chewbacca bit, dodging and blowing up TIE Fighters. Again, with all the other shit heaped on us throughout this special, it’s easy to have forgotten Han Solo is even in this story. Han, having the usual technical problems with the Millennium Falcon remarks to Chewie, “Why do I always think getting you home for Life Day is gonna be easy?” Well, if this is such a familiar situation, why didn’t he do more to avoid the situation? Maybe leave early to beat the Life Day traffic? The statement raises more questions. Does it mean no matter what Han and Chewie are up to, Han will have to bring him back to Kashyyk every year on Life Day? How do they keep track of years while they’re out in space? Planets must have different time spans in regards to length of days. Does Chewie keep a Kashyyk clock with him, or did the Empire enforce some form of galactic time standard? Anyway, why is Life Day important to wookies? We know it’s important because the special tells us so, but the reasons escape us because we don’t know what the fuck any of those wookies are saying.

Back to Malla, non-compelling as ever, receiving an announcement from an Imperial officer in a cheap looking uniform informing all of Kashyyk an Imperial blockade is going up due to the presence of a rebel ship in the area. A pounding on the door sends her into a panic. When it turns out to be Saun Dann the audience goes into a panic. Him again? I guess he’s like a fat Santa-esque character, because he brings gifts to the three wookies. For Itchy, he gives a proton pack for a Mind Evaporator. For Malla, a portable holo player. And for Lumpy, a mini-transmitter. All of these gifts play into the whacked storyline.

Itchy wastes no time hopping into the Mind Evaporator, and Saun Dann is more than happy to hook up the proton pack for him. “Happy Life Day,” says Saun Dann. “And I do mean Happy Life Day.” Nudge nudge, wink wink.  

The bit that follows is not for the faint of heart or weak of stomach. Three words: Wookie wet dream. Itchy goes into a virtual reality where some mermaid-type creatures swim around before Diahann Carroll materializes, in the role of Mermeia. She straight out tells us that she is Itchy’s sexual fantasy. She follows with career-low-point lines such as “I can feel my creation,” and “Ooooh, aren’t we getting excited?” After everyone feels good and uncomfortable, she sings the song “This Minute Now,” which really makes no sense for a song over a minute long. The scene ends with what can only be interpreted as Itchy’s "Big O." Sorry, folks. I’m not responsible for this atrocity.

So if you managed to make it through that scene, you'll see another pointless bit with familiar characters, this time Princess Leia and C-3PO. Leia tries to place a call to Chewbacca and Han, but unfortunately gets Malla and has to hear the same sob story she already told to Luke and Saun Dann. The scene accomplishes nothing, but we're used to that by now. One detail bothers me, however, and that is the fact that when Saun Dann steps up to translate, he has to introduce himself to Leia, and when he does he calls himself a member of the rebellion and a friend to the Rebel Alliance. So why doesn't she know him already? She's one of the key figures, and yet despite having never heard of this guy before, her one-word answer to his claim is "Good." She might've tried to confirm this somehow, but no, she just accepts and moves on. Whatever. Maybe I'm expecting too much from the worst holiday special of all time.

Meanwhile, Han and Chewie manage to get through the blockade, but due to heavy Imperial forces are forced to land a fair distance away from Chewbacca's home, which is another way of saying "there's still a whole hour of this abomination to go." The family hears the Falcon fly overhead and rushes to the door, but are greeted by two Stormtroopers ready for the kill. The troopers, along with an Imperial Guard (not the mustache guy from earlier, unfortunately) and an Imperial Officer force their way into the home, and finally things are almost getting interesting. Their information tells them there should be one more wookie in the household, so the Imperials start searching the house for rebels while Art Carney does some more clowning around. When Malla picks up the holo player Saun Dann gave her, the troopers raise their blasters in alarm. Saun Dann diffuses the situation by playing Jefferson Starship on it, some song about lighting the sky on fire and being higher than the diamonds in the sky. It's not good, but it's probably the best song in this special, for whatever that's worth.

When the song finishes, the Imperials give Saun Dann the boot (the producers should've done the same), and two of them go upstairs to search Lumpy's room. The officer warns Malla to keep Lumpy busy during the search, so she sits him down in front of a small screen where he watches a cartoon depicting Luke, Leia, Han, Chewie and the droids on one of their many adventures. How Lumpy came to be in possession of a cartoon featuring his dad is a question probably best left unexplored, not that there's an answer anyway.

The cartoon, while a bit convoluted, is still fairly decent. It centers around the main characters and features the voices of the real actors, so they got that much right. The animation is a bit rough around the edges, but is similar to other animation of the time period, such as that of Ralph Bakshi, and adds a bit of 1970s charm. The cartoon segment is notable for a two primary reasons. Most important is the first appearance of Boba Fett, one of the most popular characters in the franchise. Despite appearing less than twenty minutes in the entire original trilogy, he easily became one of the most recognizable figures, leading Lucas to give him a shitty, underwhelming backstory in the prequels. His cool factor was enough to survive the Holiday Special, making him the only character introduced who also appears in the later films. Quite a feat, all things considered.

The second notable fact about the cartoon is that as of December 2014 it remains the only part of the entire special ever to get an official release, as an extra on the Blu-ray trilogy package. Hard as Lucasfilm might've tried at one time to keep the Holiday Special buried, they must've recognized the futility and allowed this much to once again be unleashed for mass consumption.

What could have been...

Half way through the cartoon Darth Vader's likeness appears, causing Lumpy to scream and thus catching the suspicion of the Imperials. The result is a hilariously bad freeze frame of Lumpy wearing headphones segueing to a commercial break.

After the cartoon, the two Imperials come back downstairs and the officer tells Lumpy completely deadpan, "Go clean up your room." When he goes to do so, he finds they've ripped the head off his stuffed bantha, clearly the prized possession in the room. We then get what I honestly find to be a heart-wrenching scene of Lumpy mourning his favorite toy and burying it on his bed under a blanket. It makes me sad for the little guy. Lumpy doesn't stay down long, though. He's out for revenge. After scanning to make sure no Imperials are fixing to come upstairs, he pulls out the mini-transmitter kit given to him by Saun Dann and prepares to put it together. The instructions are presented in video form by, you guessed it, Harvey Korman.

The Korman character in this sketch is what is known as an Amorphian being, also known as the stupidest Star Wars idea this side of Jar Jar Binks. These mechanical beings are apparently prone to malfunction, resulting in what looks like the occasional stroke. If these beings are constantly malfunctioning, why would they be used in an instructional video? None of it makes any sense, but apparently Lumpy gets it because he keeps nodding at the screen. 

Downstairs, the big monitor kicks on, and the same dopey Imperial officer who announced the blockade now informs everyone in the wookie dwelling something senseless about a required viewing of curfew being enforced on Tatooine. That's just an excuse to cut to a sketch with Bea Arthur, unfunny as anybody else in this wretched shit heap, playing a bartender named Ackmena. The bar is nearly identical to the iconic Mos Eisley Cantina from A New Hope, even featuring the same band and aliens (though some are supposed to be different characters). Unfortunately, none of is enough to save this sketch. I'm not sure if this is the longest bit in the special or just feels that way, but by the time it finishes my brain feels violated by stupidity.

The trouble begins immediately because Harvey Korman walks into the bar, this time playing Krelman, a guy with a volcano for a head. It looks terrible, especially when he pours his drink in the top hole. He also has six fingers on one hand. Hilarious. It's revealed he was at the bar a couple nights ago and has misinterpreted Ackmena's go-to farewell greeting, "Come back soon, I'll be waiting" as a confession of her love. The guy starts coming on strong to the point of uncomfortable, and no less so with Bea Arthur as the target of open sexual harassment. Krelman's advance is subsequently spurned when he hears her saying those special words to every other customer and spends most of the scene burying his head on the bar. It's a delightful moment that fills me to the brim with holiday spirit.

The Empire makes the curfew announcement over the Cantina view screen, which gets Ackmena stressing. She tries to tell aliens to go home, but they don't speak her language. Somebody somewhere mistook this act for comedy. She soon caves, giving the crowd one more round on the house, and a song on the side. You know a song's going to be a smash when every line ends with "friend." During this song, you'll probably notice sitting in the corner a giant rat who has no place in Star Wars, and that's because he was recycled from another film. Who cares if it didn't belong, as long as the studio squeezed every dime out of their giant rat puppet investment. And predictably, Bea Arthur's singing drives everyone out the door, though the song is so long they might've been going home anyway. Krelman's still there, and the scene leaves us thinking they might become lovers, as if we could possibly give a shit.

Meanwhile, back in the frame story you may have forgotten about, the Imperials had to sit through the same terrible sketch we did, though it didn't seem to be as educational as originally promised. The officer receives a message on his communicator to return to base, which Lumpy is actually sending from upstairs. Bea Arthur's friendship song was so long a child had time to assemble an intricate communication device. The doltish Imperials buy it, of course, but the officer orders one Stormtrooper to stay behind in case Chewbacca shows up.

As soon as the group leaves, Lumpy's transmitter starts malfunctioning and repeatedly saying "return to base." The Stormtrooper rushes up and smashes the transmitter, but Lumpy manages to run down the stairs and out to the balcony. The Stormtrooper, who never utters a word through all of this, chases him outside where Chewbacca is just arriving home. Chewie raises his bowcaster but surrenders when he sees Lumpy is in danger. Just then Han Solo sneaks up behind the Stormtrooper and chops the blaster out of his hand. The two blunder around for a second, then the Stormtrooper lunges for his blaster and manages to fall off the balcony to his death.

A joyful reunion follows. Han Solo embraces Lumpy in what must be the proudest moment of Harrison Ford's career. Some sappy and embarrassing lines follow as Han professes his love for Chewbacca's family. He doesn't stick around for long (who could blame him?). There's an icky kiss between Chewie and Malla that I'm certain no non-sick and twisted Star Wars fan ever requested be shown on film.

Just when you think we're getting to the end, Saun Dann shows up like a big slap across the kisser. He jokes around with Chewbacca because they're friends for some reason. Saun Dann saw the dead Stormtrooper and disposed of his body in the two minutes before he came up, so when the Empire sends an alert for the missing trooper over the view screen he already has a plan. Using his neutral status as a trader, he dials up the same Imperial schmuck we keep seeing and tells him the Stormtrooper looted the house along with Saun Dann's wares and headed for the hills, which the idiot believes without question. Is deserting common among Stormtroopers? Regardless, there are plenty of other problems with this scene. With all the Stormtroopers in the galaxy, would they notice one going missing in a matter of minutes? What if he had to take a dump? No small task in those suits, I'm sure. Also, Saun Dann isn't even supposed to be there. The Imperials ordered him to leave. Wouldn't they be suspicious of why he returned? What about the rest of the Imperials? They still know the household was missing a wookie, so it's documented and they'll almost certainly return. Whatever, move on and get it over with.

Finally, FINALLY, the wookie family is able to get on with the Life Day celebration. 
So what is Life Day? It must be important considering this entire special revolved around it. From what I can tell through repeated viewings, it goes something like this: the wookies all get a glowing snow globe. They raise the globes above their heads. Suddenly, they're in space and wearing red robes. Then all the wookies are there, and they all march single file into a glowing ball of light, still holding snow globes, still wearing red robes. Then they're all gathered in front of what is known as the Tree of Life. They've said absolutely nothing about any Tree of Life up to this point. Somehow Luke, Leia, Han, and the droids made it there. Did they have to walk into the ball of light to get there? Why no red robes?

Anything this bad is required to have a godawful grand finale to truly achieve a legendary status among the ranks of cinematic shit, and the Star Wars Holiday Special certainly doesn't disappoint by giving us Carrie Fisher singing a song about Life Day. For some odd reason this song is far shorter than any of the others. It simply must be seen to be believed. Please. Look it up. The song is accompanied by Chewbacca reflecting on some glory days, which just so happens to take the form of clips from A New Hope, making you wish you were watching that instead. The final shot is of the wookie family around the table in a moment of silent reverence, probably feasting on the recipe of slop from the earlier Korman scene. Then, it's over...

---

Wow, some reflections on this Star Wars holiday "classic." I always heard it was bad, but I had no idea it was as god awful as it turned out to be. Besides Lumpy and the "real" Star Wars characters, everyone is fairly unlikable. No one is funny. This special is so unfunny at times I wonder if they even intended comedy at all. 

The sad part is I don't think it would be very difficult to make at least a mediocre holiday special out of Star Wars, but whoever was responsible for this travesty had no idea what they were doing. I have a feeling the special was required to fill a two-hour spot, because so much of it feels drawn out and pointless. They could have cut this thing down to a half hour, hour tops, skipped the cameos and songs no one wanted, kept the cartoon, given the main characters slightly bigger roles, and they wouldn't have had to try to keep this thing buried for thirty-five years. Still, it's a lot of fun to watch and because I always love an excuse to watch something terrible, I plan to make it a yearly holiday tradition. Happy Holidays, everyone! See you in the New Year!

Waterworld - 1995 PART ONE

"The future... The polar ice caps have melted, covering the earth with water. Those who survived have adapted... to a new world." 

-Opening Narration

Note: *SPOILERS* ahoy. But if you haven't seen this yet, seriously. Also, this review pertains to the fan-made "Ulysses" cut, the most complete version of the film, which smooths out the choppiness of the theatrical cut's storyline.

When I first thought to review Waterworld, my intention was to tear it apart scene by scene. However, after my third viewing in twenty-four hours, I had an unexpected revelation, something certain to raise awkward silence in future conversation and make me the laughing stock of cinema elitists everywhere. I love Waterworld.

Nooooo!

Yes. From opening shots of "The Mariner" (Kevin Costner) drinking his own pee-pee, to the part where "Dennis Hopper" (Dennis Hopper) encourages a young girl to start smoking cigarettes, all the way to the end, where Mariner leaves the woman and girl on the newly discovered Dry Land to presumably mate with the fat guy and the old man, restoring the proper way of life on solid ground. I love it all.

Dennis Hopper most of all.

Now that's not to say I'm unaware of the movie's faults. In fact, it's overflowing with them in nearly every scene. However, faults are no guarantee a film lacks entertainment value (for proof, watch Troll 2). With that in mind, let it be said Waterworld is a American cinematic phenomenon, albeit a cult one. On its most basic level, the film is made to entertain, and, having not lost interest after repeat viewings, I can comfortably say it succeeds.

I first saw Waterworld in the theater with my mom when it was new, sometime in late July/early August, 1995. I was seven, and though I don't remember any negative feelings about it, I must not have been overly excited as I didn't see it again until now, in September 2014. There was little I remembered about the movie: Costner drinking pee, bad guys on jet-skis, Dennis Hopper acting crazy. The film's exaggerated reputation as a major flop was unknown to me until years after. For my seven year old mind, it was just a big summer movie. Having somewhat sharpened my perception since then, I now feel I've got a solid grasp on what Waterworld is going for as a film. Putting aside the cinematic stigma Waterworld will undoubtably carry forever, please allow me to discuss the film as it is, spotlighting both its foils and its feats.

The film starts with the "Universal" spinning globe logo sans music, but never cuts away. The "Universal" title disappears as the point-of-view zooms in to the water enveloping all the land, a gimmick falling in the awkward ground between cool and embarrassing, and a voice tells us it was all caused by the melting of the polar ice caps. Unfortunately the filmmakers couldn't simply "Google" it in 1995 or they would've learned in mere seconds this is impossible. Seeing as everything in the film that follows rests upon that very idea, there it is, right off the bat, a faulty take-it-or-leave-it premise. Because I don't see the need to strictly take everything I encounter in life seriously, I ran with it. And for those of you prepared to ride off on an intellectual high-horse, just remember no one thinks you're cool.

Coming through the clouds to the great blue future world, the camera focuses us in on a single sailboat, a trimaran, known as such for its triple-hull design. The boat is one of my favorite things about the film. It has an authentic coziness to it, making it feel like the Mariner really lives there. The Trimaran is filled with artifacts from the sunken world, and identifying them in the background during the scenes on the boat is a pleasure all its own.

The audience is also treated to the first composition of the soundtrack by James Newton Howard. It breathes mysticism into the picture and works very well in my opinion. The music has a certain tribal feel to it as well, making it sync with the survivalist state of humanity in the water world. All in all, the soundtrack is a seamless fit for the film, giving it a layer of needed emotional depth.

As for the Mariner, our first glimpse of him is a rather unfortunate one, a between-the-ankles shot of the yellow body fluid draining into a dirty plastic cup. The camera pans up high enough for us to see the urine poured into a filtration system and pumped through. Only after he pours the filtered pee-water into a cup and takes a sip do we finally see the Mariner's face.

See? All your reservations about Waterworld were unfounded.

This is without a doubt one of the biggest WTF moments in cinematic history. If you had two-hundred million dollars resting on a motion-picture (most expensive film ever made at the time), a motion-picture getting all kinds of negative press before being seen (mostly due to said budget), why would you take the risk of introducing the hero in this fashion? I see what they were going for, of course, which is an in-your-face statement about the harshness of living in this future world. It certainly complies with the rest of the film, but with all the writers and countless drafts of the screenplay, couldn't someone come up with a better introduction than this? They marketed this movie to kids, after all; it had its own toy line and video games. What kid is going to view this as anything but a grown man drinking pee? It's no wonder the toys were quickly shuffled to the bargain bin.

*Pee Filter not included

But enough about pee drinking. The next thing that happens is the Trimaran gives a forceful lurch, and we see the Mariner has been trolling for something. Whatever it is, he must've found it, because he soon dives into the ocean and disappears for a long time. In his absence, we get to see some nice shots of different areas on the boat, which further sets the feeling of isolation, as well as some more insight into life aboard the trimaran. A wind chime made of fire sprinklers. A harmonica that hums softly as the sea breeze passes through. He even has a small tree with a few green lemons growing. It's all very peaceful.

The next sequence is a bit too unclear. A timer set by the Mariner goes off, the line begins winding, and an air sack with a bag of relics floats up to the surface. Even with the countless times I've watched this film, I'm still in the dark about how it actually works. How did the bag get down there? How did it get to be filled with air? Correct me if you can make better sense of it.

Above: What are we looking at?

We get another shot of the lemon tree, when a hand reaches from offscreen and picks all the fruit. Whose hand is it, the movie asks? Not Costner’s. He's still underwater, but soon pops up with a pair of boots straight out of 1986. He didn't have them when he dove in, so he must've got them from the ocean floor. How did he do that? We'll find out soon. While he's trying the boots on, he realizes there's another boat nearby. He panics from being taken off guard and dashes over to his mounted harpoon gun, aiming it at the other boat.

The appearance of the second boat is where we start getting the bigger picture of life in Waterworld. On it is a lone sailor, his first words being "Don't worry, I didn't board you," in Hindi. We immediately suspect him of foul play due to the lemon thievery just witnessed. I mean, it's not like there's anyone else around. While we are suspicious of him, he is equally wary of the Mariner, commenting on the great timespan he was underwater. Mariner replies in Hindi that he was fixing his hull, which has holes allowing him to get his head above water and breathe. The second guy notes his accent and starts speaking English.

Would you trust this man?

Why they went to the trouble of trying to convey the multiple languages used in Waterworld is a bit of a head scratcher, since there's only three or four small bits of dialogue not in English throughout the entire film, and one of them is only used to confirm two parties both speak English. I can see why people would take issue with everyone speaking English in this version of the future, but the filmmakers didn't really make the effort to carry it far enough anyway, so it feels like extraneous detail.

So to sum up what we learn from the first exchange of dialogue in the film, the most important detail is the value of dirt. Yes, dirt is the most valuable commodity in Waterworld (Why don't people love this movie again?). Further, "Atoll" is the name given to a colony of people who have set up a ring shaped living structure on the water, the word atoll being the definition for ring shaped coral reefs. A nice touch, if you ask me.

An actual atoll

Atoll - Waterworld

We also learn that the Mariner and the other sailor are known as "Drifters," more simply known as traders, making their survival sailing from place to place trading with the atolls and each other. There is reference here to another group called "Slavers," but the detail only serves to give a broader feel of Waterworld, as the only ones we see throughout the film are already dead. I have to wonder if slaves in this world have any purpose other than sex. There aren’t exactly a whole lot of plantations floating around the ocean.

"Cost you a handful of DIRT."

The Mariner mentions he recognizes the other boat, but not the drifter. The drifter replies that the previous owner was dead on the boat when he found it, and before Mariner came back out of the water, the drifter was preparing to leave it in favor of the Trimaran. "Just improving my means," he says. The detail shows drifters are the scavengers of the seas, taking from dead sailors and empty ships whatever precious few resources they have to use for their boats or for trade value. It is a characteristic that makes them somewhat unappealing, and the film reflects this through the cautious way the atollers deal with them, weary of those unafraid to take from the dead.

However, there is honor too, evidenced by the code of the Drifters, a sort of brotherhood wherein they always stop for each other when meeting on the sea. It is customary for a trade to occur any time two drifters meet, though the custom is probably also an excuse for mere human contact during lonely months on the endless ocean. Some may not see the point, but the code is something real for drifters to cling to, something to live for. It is a key for maintaining sanity in a mostly empty world.

The second drifter’s disregard for the code casts him into further suspicion. Just when the Mariner lowers his harpoon, the drifter turns down the customary trade, saying Mariner need not concern himself, as he had just come from an atoll with all the supplies he needs (his mention of the atoll and directions to it advance the plot). The drifter's ignorance of the code holds importance as an early sign of breakdown in the way of life built up on Waterworld. There is an underlying urgency that begins to emerge. Something needs to change or human life will end.

"Nothing's free in Waterworld," is the Mariner's response. There are no gifts. With the precious little in the world, everything is commodity based, making simple materials like dirt and paper highly valuable, as limited amounts survived the flood. As such, a drifter could never have "all the supplies he needs." Mariner casts an uneasy look, knowing something is off.

The sound of an engine steals the attention of both men. Smokers!

The great flood apparently spared the white trash, unfortunately.

The Smokers, the fourth and most dangerous sect of society shared with atollers, drifters, and slavers are one of the most interesting aspects of Waterworld, being pirates of the future and riding an assortment of power watercraft, including jet skis. How do they get power? By using a cheaply refined oil called "Go-Juice," allowing their boats to run but causing lots of smoke.

How these machines are still operating after hundreds of years in salt water, running on cheap fuel and without any possible place to receive proper maintenance is one of the great unanswered questions about the film's mythos (according to one of the producers, Waterworld takes place around 2500). With the excessive, consuming lifestyle displayed by the smokers in the film, their complete disregard for resources as opposed to the calculated survival rationing of the atollers makes it doubtful there would be enough fuel left to keep all those jet skis running after hundreds of years. Summer days on the lake taught me a few joyrides would burn through a full tank, so constant trips around the ocean would be unheard of. The suspension of disbelief factor is obviously raised with the appearance of the smokers, but again I say just go with it, for the sake of entertainment.

The smokers have already spotted the two boats as well as the bag the Mariner brought from down in the ocean, still floating in the water a short distance away. The drifter checks the wind, knows he can make an escape, and tells the Mariner "Forget the bag, it's not worth it! You'll never make it with your sails down!" With as many repeat viewings as I've had, this bit troubles me. The film later tells us no one except the Mariner actually knows the "real" world is underneath the water, so how would anyone else recognize the purpose of the bag? Now it's possible the smokers are just curious and plan to pillage everything as they like to do, but the second drifter also seems to know the purpose of the bag. It simply doesn't add up, carelessness on the part of the writers. I'm guessing they were so occupied figuring out how to cinematically introduce this conceptual world they blanked on the small details. I don't know. Maybe they never intended anyone to watch this more than, say, 30 times, like I have this week.

The second drifter begins to sail away, but not before revealing to the Mariner he stole all his lemons. Mariner flips a switch, though, and his boat goes all steampunk, raising the sails almost instantly. We see the reactions from both the second drifter ("What the hell?") and the smokers ("I've never seen that before!"), revealing this is highly unusual for Waterworld. The only thing I can possibly conclude  on the origins of the Trimaran is that Mariner built much of it himself with parts acquired through trade, though it's never explained in the least, so the filmmakers are again forcing us to accept something in the name of a more entertaining film. The Mariner has a bad-ass boat. How it came to be is of no concern.

After the transformation, Mariner starts to move for his bag of relics. "Sweet Joe, he's going for it," says one of the smokers. His use of the name Joe is a subtle detail only noticeable upon repeat viewings, as we learn later in the film the smokers home is a very busted up Exxon Valdez, and they consider its captain, Joe Hazelwood, to be a saint. As it is likely most people who viewed Waterworld only did so once, it is a detail left for the cultic viewers like myself, those unafraid to plunge to the depths again and again, who appreciate the film for what it is, and what it wants to be, instead of dismissing it for not meeting expectations. As such, I love that small attention to detail, as it acknowledges those viewers and maintains consistency with the characterization of the smokers.

The smokers close in, but Mariner gets to the bag first, swinging around and scooping it up. The next bit is one of my absolute favorites in the film, as it exudes retribution and bad-assery. Mariner is in the clear to sail away, but when he spots the drifter he makes plans for a slight detour. I have to give Costner credit here, as he plays it all from the face and body language. Without a word, he says "I'm gonna get that sonofabitch who stole my fruit," narrowing his eyes and turning to starboard. The drifter glances back and does a double take, in disbelief at the speed of Mariner's approach. 

He attempts to increase speed to no avail, and the Trimaran quickly catches up. The drifter dives down on the deck as the Trimaran passes right over, knocking over his mast like a dead tree as it speeds on. The drifter stands up and with a stupid look on his face (rather hilarious in spite of the circumstances) watches the Mariner sail away, still dazed by everything that has just happened. 

He seems to momentarily forget the smokers, but then turns around as they catch up to him guns blazing before jumping on his vessel and striking him down with a club. We hear his final pained scream while we get a shot of Mariner's face, completely without mercy for the fallen drifter. He sails on. The scene is exciting and effective, showcasing one of the films strengths, the cool blend of sailing and action, giving a futuristic swashbuckling feel. Not to mention, who in the audience didn't absolutely love seeing that scheming thief get what was coming to him? And of course the real purpose of the scene, informing the audience Mariner is one tough mother.

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Here ends the first scene and Part One of my Waterworld write-up. Check back for Part Two!