And 3000 years is about as much time as you'll guess you've been sitting there when the credits roll because, astonishingly, Battlefield Earth really is as bad as you've heard.
Aimed squarely at kiddies, it's impossible for adults to take seriously. The Psychlos are represented primarily by John Travolta and Forest Whitaker, but their brand of Disney villainy extends only to constant bickering which may well be unintentionally hilarious but it's not the least bit menacing. Indeed Travolta makes for one of the worst screen villains in recent memory, his Terl coming across as petulant, stroppy and very, very campy rather than the terrifying monster the film is so desperately crying out for. It's this need to keep things safe so the little 'uns won't be scared that saps any sense of danger from proceedings. I mean, his big evil plot is to use the humans to mine gold on the side so he can retire. Hardly Earth-shattering stuff. . .
Still, it's not all bad. Barry Pepper as the heroic Jonnie Goodboy Tyler is magnificent, expertly capturing the awesome personal charisma of the character and - oh who am I kidding? He's as dull as dishwater.
The modest budget shows in every frame, and much of it appears to have been filmed in the same warehouse re-dressed numerous times. It's all shot in tight close ups at wonky angles in an ill-fated attempt to hide the generally cheap nature of the thing. Right down to the hair extensions and prosthetic Psychlo hands it all has a compromised, that'll-do feel.
There are huge holes in the plot. And I'm talking about several of them. Gaping ones with barbed wire fencing and flashing warning signs around them to stop audiences falling in. However they're not as jaw-droppingly stupid as the massive chunks they either forgot or couldn't afford to include. But then again this is a film where spending a few hours in a library can enable a man who can't read to become knowledgeable on just about everything - including besting a warrior race at military strategy - and a couple of days in a flight simulator means you become an expert fighter pilot. Logic is not Battlefield Earth's strong point.
Neither is its score, a truly dreadful effort in which even the instruments it's played on sound like they were found in a skip.
The final battle is spectacularly inept, and springs from nowhere with no build-up. It's quite amusing actually; before you realise it's started it's there in front of you and then it's not.
But the most staggering thing about the film is that not only was it not knocked together by a bunch of disinterested monkeys, it was in fact a labour of love for John Travolta. This is something he'd wanted to make for years, so how it turned out so indescribably, monumentally atrocious is a mystery.
Aimed squarely at kiddies, it's impossible for adults to take seriously. The Psychlos are represented primarily by John Travolta and Forest Whitaker, but their brand of Disney villainy extends only to constant bickering which may well be unintentionally hilarious but it's not the least bit menacing. Indeed Travolta makes for one of the worst screen villains in recent memory, his Terl coming across as petulant, stroppy and very, very campy rather than the terrifying monster the film is so desperately crying out for. It's this need to keep things safe so the little 'uns won't be scared that saps any sense of danger from proceedings. I mean, his big evil plot is to use the humans to mine gold on the side so he can retire. Hardly Earth-shattering stuff. . .
Still, it's not all bad. Barry Pepper as the heroic Jonnie Goodboy Tyler is magnificent, expertly capturing the awesome personal charisma of the character and - oh who am I kidding? He's as dull as dishwater.
The modest budget shows in every frame, and much of it appears to have been filmed in the same warehouse re-dressed numerous times. It's all shot in tight close ups at wonky angles in an ill-fated attempt to hide the generally cheap nature of the thing. Right down to the hair extensions and prosthetic Psychlo hands it all has a compromised, that'll-do feel.
There are huge holes in the plot. And I'm talking about several of them. Gaping ones with barbed wire fencing and flashing warning signs around them to stop audiences falling in. However they're not as jaw-droppingly stupid as the massive chunks they either forgot or couldn't afford to include. But then again this is a film where spending a few hours in a library can enable a man who can't read to become knowledgeable on just about everything - including besting a warrior race at military strategy - and a couple of days in a flight simulator means you become an expert fighter pilot. Logic is not Battlefield Earth's strong point.
Neither is its score, a truly dreadful effort in which even the instruments it's played on sound like they were found in a skip.
The final battle is spectacularly inept, and springs from nowhere with no build-up. It's quite amusing actually; before you realise it's started it's there in front of you and then it's not.
But the most staggering thing about the film is that not only was it not knocked together by a bunch of disinterested monkeys, it was in fact a labour of love for John Travolta. This is something he'd wanted to make for years, so how it turned out so indescribably, monumentally atrocious is a mystery.