The first shot of an action hero is supposed to set the tone for a movie; remember your initial glimpses of James Bond or Batman, and compare them with Waterworld, which shows Mariner peeing into a bottle, pouring the fluid into a home-made chemistry set, cranking a handle to process it, and then drinking it.
And this symbol of regeneration – taking one man’s waste (urine) and turning it into the same man’s beverage (processed urine) – rings true to the film’s environmental message. What will James Bond do when the polar ice caps melt and he’s forced into rags, steering a sail boat made of trash in an expanse of sea above now-sunken Britain? Take his urine shaken, not stirred? I don’t think so. He’d be washed up – quite literally – in Waterworld.
And what would Batman do in a society where soil is money? Use his Batmarine to excavate dirt from the ocean floor, you might say. But a Batsub would cost a lot of soil before he’d be able to get any (as Costner’s Mariner says, “Nothing’s free in Waterworld,” leaving payment plans out of the question). To rephrase, would he do without money in general? His childhood trauma of falling in a well wouldn’t serve him in Waterworld, either. No, Batman would not do well under these extenuating circumstances or others. It’s amazing he can do anything at all, but that’s a lengthier discussion for another time (unless the discussion is about Kevin Costner being the ninth Batman, in which case, I’m all ears). Five stars.
It could have been more, it could have been better, and it could have made me care about the characters.
And when I say “it” I mean me. I could have been more, I could’ve been better, and most of all I could’ve made an effort to care more about the interesting characters in the most astounding movie of 1995 – step aside Se7en. I could sit here and pretend that Waterworld didn’t give me reason enough to do all of those things but that would be a lie. See, I’m a jaded movie reviewer and in my cognitive decline that’s been brought on by old age I’ve lashed out specifically on the creative visions of Mr. Costner for years. For this, I am profoundly sorry.
As the screen faded to black on the greatest action and adventure film of the century, I reflected on the moment when my story also fades to black. Will St. Peter care about my character? Was I enough to appease Jesus Christ , the ultimate reviewer of the everlasting film known as the universe? And where will I be sent once my soul is weighed: the fiery place where they play inferior films like The Shawshank Redemption, Gremlins, Apollo 13 (i.e. films where Costner was passed up for the lead role) or the beautiful cloud town where you can hear classic lines like, “Forty-five minutes with the wee one,” during the day’s eighth viewing of Waterworld?
The answers – much like my fate – are to be determined. Five stars.
From the outset, Waterworld struggles to achieve verisimilitude while one waits patiently for the protagonists to develop beyond the sketchy portraits with which they are initially saddled. But that never really happens, and the actors struggle with uninspired dialogue and the production’s enormous physical requirements.
But do you want to know something? I’ve had a sudden change of heart in this paragraph. Verisimilitude – whatever it means – is overrated. Inspired dialogue is meaningless – say you have dialogue inspired by the electronic color code’s mnemonic “Big brown rabbits often yield great big vocal groans when slapped.” Except to an electrical engineer struggling to remember the electronic color code, what good is that? And sketchy portraits – I love sketchy portraits. I really do. Sometimes I prefer the middle stages of a drawing when you can see all the work the artist put in to the final product. Especially a portrait of an uneaten charcuterie board. I know that’s called a still life but so what.
Look I don’t know much but if there’s one thing I know it’s that Waterworld is fun for the whole mulit-generational family whose lifelong activities have contributed to the ice caps melting. If we fix the problem though, then there would be no reason for a sequel. So, you know, do your part.
Even more damaging than the blind trust in A-list movie stars to lead audiences anywhere – in this case, to a sinking slag heap in the Pacific – is the logic behind filming an aquatic adventure on such a huge, unmanageable scale. It seems to have been done mostly because it hadn’t been done before, and for no better reason.
Kidding!!!!!!!!!!! Two thumbs up!!!!!!!!!!
