BATTLE BEYOND THE STARS: Live Fast, Fight Well, and Have a Beautiful Ending

Battle Beyond the Stars (1980) – Directed by Jimmy T. Murakami – Starring Richard Thomas, Robert Vaughn, George Peppard, John Saxon, Darlanne Fluegel, Sybil Danning, Sam Jaffe, Jeff Corey, and Julia Duffy.

Is there any B-movie with a more celebrated cast and crew than BATTLE BEYOND THE STARS?

George Peppard, Robert Vaughn, John Saxon, Sybil Danning, Sam Jaffe, and John Boy all have prominent roles, and Julia Duffy is knocking around in a small role. Behind the camera, not only is BATTLE a Roger Corman film, but future A-list talent James Cameron, Gale Anne Hurd, and James Horner all had a hand in the production. Even better, BATTLE was written by John Sayles. That’s major talent wrapped up in a movie designed to be an interstellar update of Akira Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai.

So, obviously, BATTLE is the greatest B-movie ever, yes?

Well, no.

Just no.

This is not to say that BATTLE is without value; I watched it as a kid and it must have made some kind of impression on me because I remember their crazy-ass ship that looks like a giant slug mated with a giant hammerhead shark that produced a giant ship with two big boobs out front. I remember that George Peppard was in it, too, because when I was a kid there was little cooler than The A-Team. I’m willing to concede that, perhaps, with all of this talent assembled, my expectations are raised too high.

But I don’t think so.

There are a few problems that derail BATTLE BEYOND THE STARS. The first is the script. Told in a simple three part structure – Shad (Richard Thomas) recruits whomever he can find to help his planet defend himself against the evil Sador (John Saxon), the mercenaries hang out on Akir and get to know the locals, and then the big final space battle – the script feels so desperate to pastiche Seven Samurai/Magnificent Seven that it has no soul of its own. There is a story here and there is a character arc for Shad, as he goes from being a normal member of a non-aggressive, agrarian society to its new leader, a man willing to fight to protect his home world, but its clumsily told and forced.

As Shad gets into the banana slugged hammerhead with boobs ship and goes out into the stars to look for help, he runs across some zany characters and has the briefest of interludes with them before they agree to sign up. There’s Nanelia (Darlanne Fluegel), the daughter of a crazy old cyborg who wants to trap Shad on his spaceship so he can mate with his daughter.

Creepiest dad ever? Yup.

Shad escapes and Nanelia follows along in a different ship. She gets captured by Cayman (Morgan Woodward), a lizard man slaver who agrees to join the cause because he hates Sador. Shad goes on to recruit Space Cowboy (Peppard), a, um, space cowboy who’s name is, literally, “Space Cowboy,” Gelt (Vaughn), the universe’s most deadly assassin who’s made enemies everywhere, five clones who wear white clothes and paint their faces white, and Saint Exim (Danning), a Valkyrie warrior.

Each of these recruitment scenes is over in a flash, and that could work to the film’s advantage if it had any kind of stylistic visual flair, but it doesn’t. Sayles’ script gets a few good lines in here and there, but BATTLE is a film that simply goes from scene to scene, telling its tale with straightforward, flat storytelling.

Another problem is that the film doesn’t take advantage of its actors. It’s sort of amazing to me that Corman could get Peppard, Vaughn, and Saxon to show up for BATTLE but then not take advantage of any of them. Peppard’s job is to look at the ground when he’s talking, take off his hat, and sound like he doesn’t want to do what he’s doing. Vaughn’s job is to sit there in a silly black costume and look like Robert Vaughn. Saxon’s job is to wear silly make-up and make threats. And Danning’s job is to have big boobs and talk about how she loves to fight. If any of this was directed with some skill, it could work, but it doesn’t.

BATTLE gets labeled a Star Wars knock-off because it came out three years after Star Wars, but there’s honestly not a whole lot of Lucas’ film here. (At least not in that sense of the “mockbusters” that a come out around the time of “blockbusters” to capitalize on their popularity; clearly the film is aware of Star Wars.) The strongest link between the two film is in the main characters, as Richard Thomas’ Shad and Mark Hamill’s Luke Skywalker are both farm boys who head out into the stars and have wacky adventures with crazy-looking aliens. Like Hamill, Thomas is far from the most charismatic actor in the shop, but unlike Hamill, Thomas isn’t in a movie that uses this to its advantage. Luke gets carried along for much of Star Wars – yeah, he wants to go to space, but he’s largely a passenger on that journey who slowly becomes a more confident and more active character. In BATTLE, however, Shad is the most active character right from the start, which requires more personality than Thomas can deliver.

At the end of the day, though, BATTLE knows that it’s a B-movie and as such, just wants to be an entertaining. It’s one of those movies that you’re unlikely to want to watch five or six times, but you should probably see it once. As I said, there’s a lot of talent here and the film’s decision to win you over by constantly throwing everything at the screen is admirable, in its own way. There are some good moments here, too, both silly (like when Space Cowboy makes himself a drink by pouring his scotch and soda out of containers on his utility belt) and real (like when Gelt explains to two kids why he’s a bad man). Horner’s music and Cameron’s special effects are both solid.

I wish BATTLE BEYOND THE STARS was better and that it properly took advantage of its assembled talent. Peppard delivers his lines like he knows they’re stupid, Vaughn delivers his like he’s doing a favor for his untalented nephew’s first film, and Saxon delivers his like he he knows its a Saturday morning cartoon come to life. The most damning thing I can say about BATTLE is that it never really feels like a movie; it just feels like a product and while it could have turned out a lot worse, it could also have been a lot better. Not quite good enough to be mediocre, BATTLE is nonetheless a film every sci-fi fan should probably see once. If nothing else, the assemblage of talent and the throw-everything-against-the-wall nature of the narrative should get you through one sitting.

FROM DUSK TILL DAWN: I’m a Mean Motherf*ckin’ Servant of God

From Dusk till Dawn (1996) – Directed by Robert Rodriguez – Starring George Clooney, Quentin Tarantino, Harvey Keitel, Juliette Lewis, Ernest Liu, Salma Hayek, Cheech Marin, Danny Trejo, Tom Savini, Fred Williamson, Michael Parks, John Saxon, Kelly Preston, and John Hawkes.

FROM DUSK TILL DAWN is a collaboration between Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez; Tarantino wrote the script, Rodriguez directs the script, and Tarantino acts in the script. DUSK is really two movies mashed together, the Tarantino opening setting up the Rodriguez closing, and it’s a clear first run for their Grindhouse project a decade later.

In the first half of the film, we focus on Seth (George Clooney) and Richie (Tarantino) Gecko’s run from the law. Seth is the cool bad-ass and Richie is the disturbed psychotic; the former kills only when necessary and the latter kills whenever he can. Both Clooney and Tarantino are fantastic as the brothers; while his status as an international movie star is now a given, DUSK was the film that proved Clooney could transition off the ER set and become a movie star. He’s electric as Seth, playing the cool customer who’s got the simmering anger waiting to explode beneath the surface.

We first see the brothers in action in a crummy roadside liquor store, operated by John Hawkes and visited by Texas Ranger Earl McGraw (Michael Parks, who also appears in Kill Bill and Planet Terror as the Ranger). The brothers are hiding in the back, keeping hostages close and mouths shut, but Richie kills McGraw with a bullet in the back of his head. Seth is furious, but Richie insists that he saw the cashier mouthing help to the Ranger. We know this is false, and Seth has to know this is false, but this is the lot he’s drawn so he ends up blowing up the liquor store before heading to Mexico.

They entered the store to get a map, and ended up in a bloodbath, which is the S.O.P. they follow for the rest of the film. They get a hotel room in order to contact their handler that guarantees a place for them in Mexico, and Richie ends up raping and killing their hostage. They kidnap Jacob and his two kids, Scott and Kate (Harvey Keitel, Ernest Liu, and Juliette Lewis) because they’ve got an RV that Seth is convinced can help get them across the border, and then when they stop at the Titty Twister bar to wait for their contact, a vampire massacre breaks out.

It’s the second half of the movie that most people remember, of course (I was a bit surprised when I watched DUSK again the other night that the Tarantino half of the movie takes an entire 45 minutes to work through), because this is where all the blood and killing and dancing Salma Hayek happens, but it’s the first-half of the movie that’s more enjoyable for me to watch. If Tarantino is remembered for only one thing when he’s done making movies, it will be his dialogue. While there’s nothing as memorable here as Pulp Fiction, or as cool as Kill Bill, or as intense as Inglorious Basterds, Tarantino knows how to play characters off of one another. When the Gecko brothers first encounter Jacob’s family, Seth wants to know what relationship Jacob and Scott have, asking, “What’s the story with you two, you a couple of fags?”

Jacob answers, “He’s my son.”

“How’s that happen? You don’t look Japanese.”

“Neither does he. He looks Chinese.”

“Well, excuse me all to hell.”

There’s a real unbalanced relationship between the five traveling companions that’s driven by Clooney and Keitel; Seth comes off as a likable guy, but one that’s never far from violence. He wants everyone to get along because he’s in a good mood, but Jacob stakes out his own ground in order to protect his kids. Seth is protective of the kids, too, knowing that Richie’s interest in Kate isn’t one of captor and hostage, but while he keeps Richie in check, he also lets Jacob know that he can unleash Richie if Jacob doesn’t do what he wants.

Juliette Lewis and Ernest Liu are good as Kate and Scott as two kids who obviously love their father but are also intrigued by Seth’s lawlessness. When Seth demands that everyone drinks with him, Scott and Kate are hesitant at first but willing to knock a few back. The scene works because Seth and Jacob, seated next to each other, are clearly battling for control. “Are you so much of a f*cking loser that you can’t tell when you’ve won,” Jacob asks. Seth flips, but Jacob is right and Seth knows it.

At the Titty Twister, the tone shifts from Tarantino’s slow burn to Rodriguez’s splatter revelry. A bunch of Rodriguez regulars make an appearance (Danny Trejo, Cheech Marin, Hayek), Tom Savini and Fred Williamson are tossed into the mix, and after a non-strip table dance from Satánico Pandemonium (Hayek), it’s all vampire killing until the end. All of the vamp splatter is good fun, as each of the participants falls in turn, until we’re left with Seth, Jacob, Kate, and Scott.

Jacob is bit and he forces his kids to promise him they’ll kill him once he starts to turn. They don’t want to do it, of course, but he insists that he won’t be their father any more, but rather, “I’ll be a lap dog of Satan.” The final run through the vamps is a good shootout that sees Jacob turn lapdog, Scott get devoured, and only Kate and Seth survive. Kate lets Seth know that she’s available to go with him, but Seth tells her no, that El Ray is too rough a town for her. “I may be a bastard, Kate,” he insists, “but I’m not a f*cking bastard. Go home.”

As Seth and Kate drive away in separate directions, the camera pulls back to reveal that the Titty Twister was located atop an old Aztec temple, hidden and buried but still very much active.

There’s nothing legendary about FROM DUSK TIL DAWN and I can see why people would get frustrated with a film like this; Tarantino and Rodriguez are so talented that it could seem a bit odd that they’d combine their talents for a splatterfest, but it’s movies like DUSK that provide such an insightful key to their more respected and beloved works. Tarantino and Rodriguez love the entertainment aspect of movies more than the literariness of movies; they’re no more right, of course, than those who favor the other side of the coin, but neither of these men are ever all that interested in the deeper questions of life, the universe, and everything. They’re more interested in people trying to get through the day and past the obstacle in front of them.

Tucked between Pulp Fiction and Jackie Brown, between Desperado and The Faculty, (forgetting the forgotten Four Rooms, in which each directed one of the four sequences) DUSK doesn’t hold a candle to the films that come around it, but it’s still an enjoyable romp.