'The apocalypse' is the sort of film that immediately, within mere minutes, leads us to question how it is we came across the feature in the first place. A prologue, inserted in the middle of the opening credits (?), is strenuously forced, fast-paced, and disordered, and unclear for the fact of it. We also get a first glimpse of editing that is dubious, and special effects that are several years outdated even in 1997. Thereafter, early exposition is ham-handed and a little less than fully convincing. But, you know what, especially for as preposterous as the premise is, I was willing to overlook this messiness to see where 'The apocalypse' was going to end up. If nothing else, watching Laura San Giacomo recite Shakespeare with the same delirious vigor as an opera's mad scene, in the first fraction of the feature, would surely be worth the remainder of these 90-odd minutes. Right?
I don't mean to disparage director Hubert de la Bouillerie outright - he has a fair number of credits in other capacities - but his guiding hand as maestro of the movie leaves much to be desired. I assume it's with his instruction that the cast generally give performances that often seem disinterested, like the scenes we get in the final cut were just first takes, or practice runs. Meanwhile, once the story more meaningfully begins around the 30-minute mark, plot development is alternately frenetic, somewhat haphazard, and disjointed - or weak, and halfhearted. Likewise, J. Reifel's screenplay is just kind of all over the place. Dialogue is filled with technobabble and questionable small talk; characterizations are flat, hollow, and far from complete, each little more than set pieces.
Individual scenes, as written, seem like they could have constituted a compelling feature if more care were taken to fit them into the narrative. And at that, more than anything else, the story is a godawful mess tendered with glaring indifference and inattention to flow, coherence, or cohesiveness. Why did Goad set the ship on its course? How was that course progression seemingly disrupted, setting up the vessel as a future salvage opportunity for the plot? How did J. T.'s assembled crew learn about that ship? What is Vendler's deal, exactly? Why was it that he was considered for the mission in the first place? Connective threads between scenes, between story beats, and between characters and background aren't necessarily absent, but they're nigh invisible.
I suppose the set design and decoration is fine, and consideration for lighting. Camerawork is unremarkable, but suitable. And... well, I think that's it. That's the praise I have to offer for the bulk of the picture.
There are a small handful of good ideas in here, but none of them are realized with convincing passion, authenticity, any sense of diligence at all. None of them make up for the extraordinary, overwhelmingly tawdry pablum that 'The apocalypse' represents. This is such accursed slop that it utterly fails to keep us engaged, and I think to give it our full concentration would be considered an act of self-harm.
It turns out that those first few minutes, in which Laura San Giacomo delivers a monologue from 'Hamlet,' really were the highlight of the film. And, no, it wasn't worth watching the remainder of the runtime. After the opening credits finish, you can move on to something else, because you've seen everything of value in 'The apocalypse.'
I don't mean to disparage director Hubert de la Bouillerie outright - he has a fair number of credits in other capacities - but his guiding hand as maestro of the movie leaves much to be desired. I assume it's with his instruction that the cast generally give performances that often seem disinterested, like the scenes we get in the final cut were just first takes, or practice runs. Meanwhile, once the story more meaningfully begins around the 30-minute mark, plot development is alternately frenetic, somewhat haphazard, and disjointed - or weak, and halfhearted. Likewise, J. Reifel's screenplay is just kind of all over the place. Dialogue is filled with technobabble and questionable small talk; characterizations are flat, hollow, and far from complete, each little more than set pieces.
Individual scenes, as written, seem like they could have constituted a compelling feature if more care were taken to fit them into the narrative. And at that, more than anything else, the story is a godawful mess tendered with glaring indifference and inattention to flow, coherence, or cohesiveness. Why did Goad set the ship on its course? How was that course progression seemingly disrupted, setting up the vessel as a future salvage opportunity for the plot? How did J. T.'s assembled crew learn about that ship? What is Vendler's deal, exactly? Why was it that he was considered for the mission in the first place? Connective threads between scenes, between story beats, and between characters and background aren't necessarily absent, but they're nigh invisible.
I suppose the set design and decoration is fine, and consideration for lighting. Camerawork is unremarkable, but suitable. And... well, I think that's it. That's the praise I have to offer for the bulk of the picture.
There are a small handful of good ideas in here, but none of them are realized with convincing passion, authenticity, any sense of diligence at all. None of them make up for the extraordinary, overwhelmingly tawdry pablum that 'The apocalypse' represents. This is such accursed slop that it utterly fails to keep us engaged, and I think to give it our full concentration would be considered an act of self-harm.
It turns out that those first few minutes, in which Laura San Giacomo delivers a monologue from 'Hamlet,' really were the highlight of the film. And, no, it wasn't worth watching the remainder of the runtime. After the opening credits finish, you can move on to something else, because you've seen everything of value in 'The apocalypse.'