RECENT WATCHES: RoboCop: Dark Justice (2001)

At some point in the early 2000s, I was exploring the new video store that opened up in my home town. Sitting on the new releases shelves was a quartet of titles that intrigued me. There were, seemingly, four brand new “RoboCop” movies. I guess I wasn't interested enough to actually rent them though. Years later, I would discover just what the hell these movies were. Following the collapse of Orion, the “RoboCop” rights would end up with Fireworks Entertainment, a Canadian television company. A decade after producing the forgotten “RoboCop: The Series,” Fireworks' right to the series were about to expire. Hoping to squeeze a little more blood from that stone, they produced a four-part television mini-series entitled “RoboCop: Prime Directives.” Each episode was feature length and released individually in the States. The first of which was “Dark Justice.”

“Prime Directives” seems to treat the previous “RoboCop” sequels in broad strokes. OCP is still in business, which would seem to contradict “RoboCop 3.” Yet the Cadillac Heights slums so pivotal to that film are also referenced. Either way, the mini-series is set a decade after RoboCop first came online. OCP is suffering corporate re-shuffling and, once again, nearing bankruptcy. Meanwhile, RoboCop is dealing with a new dangerous breed of criminals and feeling obsolete. A vigilante calling himself Bone Machine is killing bad guys. RoboCop hunting the killer brings him to John Cable. Cable was Alex Murphy's partner but he has no idea that Murphy is now RoboCop. Soon, the two come into conflict.

All of “Prime Directives” was directed by Julian Grant. Grant previously directed “Electra,” an erotic thriller starring Shannon Tweed, and “Airborne,” a low budget action flick starring Steve Guttenberg. Grant insisted “Prime Directives” would be more faithful to Paul Verhoeven's original than the sequels were. Well, “Dark Justice” does lean heavily on a condescending television news program. Which is a decent attempt at replicating the original's satire. Don't expect any ultra-violence though. The action is pretty anemic. There's only two real action scenes. RoboCop fights some mad bombers in the beginning and Bone Machine in the last act. During the former, he spends most of the fight knocked out on the floor. During the latter, he fidgets around in a dark warehouse. Not exactly the most impressive action sequences.

The underwhelming action is a symptom of “RoboCop: Prime Directive's” primary problem. It's so cheap, you guys. OCP head quarters is primarily composed of a series of board rooms and overly dark offices. The police station seems to have one office and a hallway. RoboCop spends most of his time sitting in that fancy chair that monitors his computer systems. There's a long – way too long – scene devoted to two OCP executives talking in an elevator. As I said, the big finale takes place in a shadowy warehouse. Which is the favored location of many low budget action flicks. Bone Machine's equipment is composed of cheesy looking machine guns and a goofy skull mask. The producers clearly didn't have much money to work with.

There's another indication of “Dark Justice's” minuscule budget. Much of the episode is devoted to a lengthy flashback. To Alex Murphy and John Cable's days as partners, before Murphy transferred to the Old Detroit station. In other words, there are long scenes that are less “Robo” and more plain “Cop.” (Even these scenes are very cheap, as a dog is played entirely by off-screen sound effects.) Yet “Dark Justice” is mildly interesting as a prequel to “RoboCop.” After all, we've never seen much of Alex Murphy's time before becoming RoboCop. Murphy and Cable uncover a cannibalistic serial killer. Murphy is reluctant to use deadly force, showing his clear morals. These flashbacks mostly set up a scenario during the climax. But, on their own, this does shed some light on an underexplored area of the franchise's history.

“Prime Directives” first tried to lure back Richard Eden, the actor who starred in “RoboCop: The Series.” When that didn't work out, they got Page Fletcher. Fletcher might be recognized for his starring role on eighties horror anthology show, “The Hitchhiker.” (Coincidentally, Paul Verhoeven directed an episode of “The Hitchhiker,” giving Fletcher a vague connection to the original film.) Page does okay in the part. As RoboCop, he sports an oddly robotic voice. His performance isn't as disciplined as Peter Weller, lacking the trademark stiff movements. However, I do like the tired quality Fletcher brings to the part. This is an exhausted RoboCop, worn down by years of misuse, wondering what purpose his life now has.

“Dark Justice” is obviously meant to set-up further adventures. There's a number of plot points left unexplored. Such as Murphy's now adult son working for OCP, totally unaware of what became of his father. Or Damian, a sneaky OCP executive creating a sinister computer program named SAINT. These scenes often distract from “Dark Justice's” primary plot, the conflict between RoboCop and Cable, and the hunt for Bone Machine. As a stand alone film, “Dark Justice” is mildly distracting but a little too cheap to be truly effective. Hopefully “Prime Directives” will get better as it goes on. [5/10]

Director Report Card: Paul Verhoeven (2000)

13. Hollow Man

When “Hollow Man” hit theaters in 2000, it would become Paul Verhoeven's biggest hit since “Basic Instinct.” It would gross over 100 million at the global box office, a big step up from “Showgirls” flopping and “Starship Troopers” just breaking even. I even have a personal anecdote about the film. Back in high school, a female friend of mine said the film gave her a reoccurring fear of Kevin Bacon. Yet Verhoeven himself would express disappointment with the film. He complained that anyone could've made this movie, that it didn't reflect his personal idiosyncrasies enough. That bitter reaction would cause Verhoeven to leave Hollywood. Seventeen years later, how does “Hollow Man” hold up?

Sebastian Caine is a scientist who has successfully designed a serum that can turn living matter invisible. After a late night bolt of inspiration strikes, he figures out how to make the invisible visible again. He's working on the project in a secret facility with a motley crew of scientists, including his ex-girlfriend, Linda. Caine refuses to report their success to their military backers, hoping to test the serum on a human subject. He allows himself to be injected. Once invisible, Caine realizes humans can't be restored to flesh-and-blood so easily. The longer Caine stays unseen, the more his morality and sanity begins to slip. Soon, Caine is committing ghastly acts. When his research partners suggests shutting down the project, Caine locks up the facility and starts to pick them off, one by one.

The defenses I've read of “Basic Instinct” frame it as critical of its male lead's blustering macho bullshit. “Hollow Man” takes the same point even further. Sebastian Caine is a frat boy scientist. He drives around in a sports car while blaring terrible hard rock. His default mood is cocky self-assurance. He manipulates and emotionally blackmails everyone around him. The only person he can't bully is Linda. That she rejected him in favor of another man deeply infuriates him. Once invisible, his macho ego is given full reign to reek as much havoc as it wants. In H. G. Wells' “The Invisible Man,” the unseen madman hopes to rule the world. In “Hollow Man,” Caine uses his ability to rape and settle petty grudges. That's the most elaborate scheme his swollen, dickhead mind can think of.

The film teases with the idea that the invisibility serum is what causes its subjects to go crazy. The gorilla they test it on is more aggressive before rendered visible again. Verhoeven himself seems to reject this. The film's cynical and ugly – but not entirely unreasonable – assumption is that any man, if granted invisibility, would become an amoral monster. He emphasizes this point by often shooting scenes from Caine's perspective. Most everyone has probably fantasized about being invisible, a scenario these sequences entertain. Yet Verhoeven follows this fantasy to its most horrific conclusion. Caine rapes his shapely next door neighbor, who he used to spy on. The sequence is tasteless and shocking. But the rug is successfully pulled out from under the viewers' feet. “The Invisible Man doesn't seem so fun now, does he?” Verhoeven says with a shit-eating grin.

Verhoeven's insistence that “Hollow Man” doesn't reflect his personality isn't baseless. The film, at times, feels like a genre exercise that could've been directed by anyone. Yet it seems unlikely that anyone else would take the subject matter as far as Verhoeven does. The director's peculiar obsession is evident in other ways. Sebastian Caine has a serious God complex. It's set up early on, when another scientist on the project jokes about being God. Caine corrects him, claiming he's a deity. Once granted invisibility, Caine's complex goes into overdrive, believing he's above societal morality. This is a natural evolution of the Christ obsession the director has displayed previously. If Verhoeven believes Christianity is a religion rooted in violence, casting a God-like figure as a murderous maniac is a natural extension. God's violent too.

When “Hollow Man” came out, most of the attention it received was directed at its elaborate special effects. This continues a proud tradition, as the Universal “Invisible Man” films push effects as far as they could in their day. Instead of simply shooting scenes without Kevin Bacon, “Hollow Man” goes to the effort of digitally removing him from every scene. When you see diodes, blankets, or molding cream stuck to his unseen skin, it's not simple trickery. Probably the most impressive sequence involves Bacon shifting from visible to invisible and back again. He doesn't just fade out. We see everything bone, nerve, vein, muscle, and organ slowly reappear or vanish. The CGI doesn't look as cutting edge as it once did but the sheer attention to detail is still insanely impressive. The effects crew received an Oscar nomination for their troubles.

Like most Invisible Man stories, “Hollow Man” doesn't explore the nitty gritty details of becoming unseen. Caine's eyelids are invisible, yet his sleeping habits are only marginally affected by this. We don't see partially digested food floating inside him. Or sweat collecting on his skin. Or dirt under his fingernails. However, “Hollow Man” does have fun dousing its invisible man in various fluids. A stand-out scene has Caine diving into a pool, revealing himself as a watery silhouette. Throughout the film, the Hollow Man is draped in steam, splashed with blood, or set ablaze. That's when the movie isn't utilizing infrared cameras to make the unseen seen. It's elaborate visual showmanship but I appreciate that.

“Hollow Man's” script is a bit unbalanced. Placing that ghastly rape scene so early in the film makes Caine's eventual transformation into a raving murderer less shocking. By that point, he's already a monster. Yet you can tell the murder-filled last act is what screenwriter Andrew W. Marlowe, previously of “Air Force One” and “End of Days,” really wanted to write. In that second half, “Hollow Man” becomes an expensive slasher film. Victims are garroted and strangled by invisible hands. Necks are snapped. An especially grisly kill involves impalement with a crowbar. The film resembles the slasher genres in other ways. Shue's Linda begins to act like a final girl of sorts. Caine proves difficult to kill, taking more damage than the human body should physically be able too. No mater how much he's electrocuted or beaten, he always returns for one more scare.

Some reviewers have complained about “Hollow Man” degrading into such a low genre so suddenly. Yet I can appreciate a good slasher flick, even if it stars Kevin Bacon's musculature system. The film doesn't really loose me until its climax. Linda and her current boyfriend are positioned in a collapsing elevator shaft. They end up dangling on a ladder, below a careening elevator box and above a poorly CGI'd ball of fire. The situation becomes more and more preposterous, leading up to the moment when Caine falls into the fireball. At that point, the movie becomes too overheated, too silly, for my taste.

There's another reason “Hollow Man” is worth checking out. This is Kevin Bacon at his hammiest. From a screenwriting perspective, Sebastian Caine begins the film as an insufferable dick bag. By the end, he's a murdering, raping monster who kills dogs and gropes sleeping women. Despite this, Bacon keeps the character charismatic, if not likable, throughout. He has a way with dialogue that's amusing. His cocksure smile is charming, in a greasy way. Caine is absolutely despicable but at least you understand why he's doing these things. Bacon's strength for approaching unlikable characters in a complex, sympathetic manner made him the ideal pick for the part.

Bacon ultimately owns the film but other actors emerge as interesting. Elisabeth Shue plays Linda McKay as a woman immune to Caine's sleazeball ways. She can, ironically, see right through his macho bullshit, making her a perfect foil to the villain. Shue is solid in the part, sexy and strong when she needs to be. Josh Brolin plays her new lover, making him a target of Caine's rage. Brolin is nowhere near as compelling as Bacon, his character being rather weakly written. Of Caine's victims, the only one that emerges as memorable is Kim Dickens' Sarah, a feisty veterinarian who puts her animals' well fare above people.

After his excellent “Total Recall” and “Basic Instincts” scores, Jerry Goldsmith returns to provide another overachieving score to a sleazy Paul Verhoeven movie. His “Hollow Man” score begins with a throbbing, metallic baseline, as if to emphasizes the coldness of the lead character. He builds upon that with low woodwind and piano, creating a melodic if subtly off-putting atmosphere. But Goldsmith knew when to lay on the bombast too. He adds sweeping strings and shrieking cords from time to time as well. It's a mysterious score that you'd expect more from a classy, early nineties political thriller than a trumped-up sci-fi slasher.

“Hollow Man” would , naturally, be poorly received by critics. Most dismissed it as badly written, if not morally repugnant, and too focused on its special effects. (Though its box office popularity led to a direct-to-DVD sequel starring Christian Slater, which sounds about right.) Oddly, fans generally agree that “Hollow Man” is one of Paul Verhoeven's weakest films. Despite having some fairly clear flaws, I still have some fondness for “Hollow Man.” It's an expensive, mainstream horror picture full of graphic content that would certainly not get made today. I'm not sure how it got made in 2000. Despite Verhoeven dismissing it himself, the film is still full of his quirks and trademarks. Ultimately, it's a minor work but one I can enjoy. [Grade: B]

Director Report Card: Paul Verhoeven (1997)

12. Starship Troopers

Following the “Showgirls” fiasco, Paul Verhoeven returned to the comfier realm of sci-fi/action. Re-teaming with Ed Neumeier, his “RoboCop” screenwriter, the two took another satirical stab at the genre. “Starship Troopers,” an adaptation/evisceration of Robert E. Heinlin’s seminal novel, was a moderate box office success but widely misunderstood by critics. Far too many dismissed it as a brain-dead action flick. Some declared the picture to be fascist. Yet, in the intervening decade, “Starship Troopers” has been reevaluated as a subversive cult classic. It’s a movie that I’ve heard a lot about over the years. My sister’s husband is a die hard Heinlin fan and has often complained about the movie over the years, to the point where I’m well sick of hearing about it. Especially since he manages to miss the point every time.

The world is at war. The planet Earth and an insect-like race known as Arachnids have been locked in battle for quite some time. In sunny Buenos Aires, high school student Johnny Rico is eager to enlist, gaining citizenship in the process, despite the protests of his parents. While in basic training, an asteroid, apparently launched by the bugs, absolutely destroys Buenos Aires. The war intensifies. Carmen, Rico’s high school girlfriend, becomes a pilot. Dizzy, another female friend, joins the Mobile Infantry. Soon, all three are in the center of the conflict, facing the bugs on the battlefield and circling the Arachnids’ home world. Would you like to know more?

There’s a reason Heinline faithfuls have rejected Verhoeven’s “Starship Troopers” so violently. Initially, the script wasn’t even based on Heinline’s book. It began life as an unrelated screenplay, entitled “Bug Hunt.” It was only after a few similarities were noticed that the studio bought the right to the book. Verhoeven attempted to read the book but quickly discarded it, declaring it “boring and depressing.” Instead, the director rejected the original author’s intent, choosing to parody and satirize his themes. “Starship Troopers” is, instead, an indictment of fascism. The film depicts a perfect fascist world, exposing the disturbing inclinations of such a society by presenting them as totally justified.

It’s fairly clear that Ed Neumeier wrote both this film and “RoboCop.” In many ways, “Starship Troopers” is a better thematic follow-up to “RoboCop” than any of that film’s actual sequels were. Both films make extensive use of news programs. “Starship Troopers” begins with an interactive news broadcast, informing viewers of the state of the war. These clips advance the story, showing the weakness of an Arachnid warrior or introducing a debate about a “Brain Bug.” Primarily, they develop the film’s world. They reveal that psychics are active in this military. They depict this society as one that censors the slaughter of a cow but airs executions in prime time. Mostly, the films-within-the-film are hilarious. Their chest-thumping patriotism is amusingly overblown. The way the programs switch between grim depictions of the war and cutesy scenes of kids stomping cockroaches provides intentional tonal whiplash. Moreover, the ads remind the viewer of the condescending self-importance of eighties PSAs.

In case the audience missed the point, Verhoeven also employs fascist imagery all throughout “Starship Troopers.” Several shots, of cheering citizens eager to enlist or rows of prepared soldiers, are directly lifted from “Triumph of the Will.” The insignia of this society heavily recalls the Imperial Eagle of Nazi Germany. By the end of the film, Neil Patrick Harris is marching around in an S.S.-style trench coat. Aside from the visual references, the movie’s absolute military dictatorship is vividly displayed. High schools are used as recruitment centers, teachers talking openly about how violence is the only thing that can change the world. In basic training, the drill instructors are unnecessarily brutal. Recruits have their arms broken, are strangled into unconscious, or impaled through the hand with knives. Punishments are violent and put on display for all to see, when Rico is publicly whipped ten times. This world may look shiny but it’s really, really fucked up.

Yet Verhoeven’s critique of fascism goes deeper. In many ways, “Starship Troopers” plays like a parody of American war movies. The brutalizing drill sergeants take the training sequences of “Full Metal Jacket” to their natural conclusion. We have soldiers talking tough in the battlefield. One shell-shocked veteran blasts a dead Arachnid for far too long. The climax concludes with an officer sacrificing himself to deliver a killing blow to the enemy. Any viewer familiar with war movies will recognize these clichés. This farcical portrayal of combat extends to the high school scenes. In high school, Rico plays a ridiculous combination of football and gymnastics called “Leapball.” The clichés of high school cinema, like a student getting sick during science lab or a dramatically fraught dance, are also on display. By making war and school look ridiculous, Verhoeven is making the very concept of war look ridiculous.

The satire is obvious but many critics totally missed the point. One detail that was often misconstrued was the casting. Verhoeven filled the film with fresh-faced young actors, most of them from teenie-bopper TV shows. Casper Van Dien and Dina Meyer were best known for parts on “Beverly Hills, 90210.” Denise Richards was already established as a sex symbol, in addition to appearing on several episodes of “Melrose Place.” Patrick Muldoon, as the perfectly insufferable Zander, was also a graduate from “Melrose Place.” And none other than Neil Patrick Harris, Doogie Howser himself, shows up as the primary psychic. This casting serves two purpose. First off, the director wanted younger actors to reflect the actual age of most newly recruited soldiers. Secondly, it's part of the movie's big joke, of celebrating a shiny, but fascist, future. Thus, the hunky but blank Van Dien and the lovely but vacant-eyed Richards are perfectly cast as more meat for the meat grinder, Aryan ideals but hollow humans. That Van Dien and Richards don't seem entirely aware of what kind of movie they're making only adds to this affect.

For the record, Meyer and Harris are obviously aware of the movie's intent, as their performances are intentionally funny. Harris' introductory scene does begin with him talking to a ferret. Jake Busey was already following in his father's footsteps, with memorably unhinged performances in “The Frighteners” and “Contact.”  He brings a certain good ol' boy charm to the part of Ace Levy. When not casting fresh-faced up-and-comers, the film employs grizzled character actors. Michael Ironside, reappearing from “Total Recall,” has a memorable part as General Owen. First, a teacher extolling the virtues of taking freedom by force, he later becomes the leader of Rico's unit. Ironside makes being a massive hardass look so entertaining, you hardly notice that he's also playing the part for exaggerated humor. The second “Highlander” villain appearing in the film is Clancy Brown, as the absurdly named Sgt. Zim. Brown is also playing a huge asshole but is more obviously charming.

As tongue-in-cheek as much of the movie is, “Starship Troopers” still treats its alien threats totally seriously. The various Bugs race are impressive. The Warrior Arachnid has an eye-catching yellow and dark green coloring. They are mostly composed of a set of giant jaws, snapping through the air like enormous scissors. This massive head takes up most of their body, leaving little room for the spindly legs. This emphasizes the alien's status as a creature designed to kill. There's also a winged “hopper” variation of the classic warrior. Nearly as impressive a creation is the massive Tanker Bugs. Looking like an especially pissed-off dung beetle, the Tanker is as big as a house. From its lower abdomen, it shoots huge plasma blast. From its head, it sprays skin-rending napalm. Every thing about the insectoid creatures – from the scurrying sand beetles to the grotesque Brain Bug - is finely designed.

“Starship Troopers” was made long after the era of awesome creature effects – the eighties – end. Yet the movie's special effects are still impressive. Phil Tippet, the daddy of ED-209 and “Jurassic Park's” dinosaur, oversaw the Bug designs and effects. The film makes heavy use of CGI. Despite this, the effects hold up extremely well. Maybe it's because non-humanoid creatures are more believably animated in CGI. I believe it's because the film often crosses between mechanical props and CGI creatures. The space ship effects, which are also excellent, are brought to life with a similar technique.

When I first saw the film, I was fairly young. At the time, I actually found the film's violence to be too intense. Watching now, I find this initial reaction funny. “Starship Troopers” is, of course, packed full of grisly violence. Troopers are torn apart by bugs, limbs and guts tossed into the air. More than once, soldiers have their arms or legs chomped off. Massive jaws and stabbing legs slash through chest and tear through bodies. The Brain Bug sucks a head hollow. As graphic as the gore in “Starship Troopers” is, I actually found the film less explicit than Verhoeven's other action films. The veneer of satire, of comedy, pushes the gory action to cartoonish levels. That most of the characters are such one-dimensional caricatures also renders the gore less startling. It's actually a perfect opportunity for Verhoeven, as it allows him to pack the movie with as much gratuitous bloodshed without alienating or disturbing audiences.

After the back-to-back sexploitation of “Basic Instinct” and “Showgirls,” Verhoeven rears back on the sex and nudity. But only a little bit. “Starship Troopers” still features the infamous communal shower scenes. Carefully placed shower stations prevent the full frontal nudity, of both genders, that was so common in his Dutch films. Rico and Dizzy's interrupted love scene even features the lightest of light bondage. Yet that's not the exploitation elements that really amuse me. When the fearsome Brain Bug is revealed, there's something obviously gynecological about its facial features. After being captured, the military shoves a massive probe into this opening. (In a sick joke, the news broadcast censors this forced entry.) This moment continues to paint the humans as the aggressors while also satisfying Verhoeven's rape obsession without horribly offending the viewer. I guess human-on-bug-monster assault is okay.

Further selling “Starship Troopers” is another magnificently powerful score from Basil Poledouris, a pounding and sweeping piece of music. The brilliance of “Starship Troopers” has survived its initial naysayers. Now the film is rightly regarded as a classic, a beautifully assembled piss-take on fascist sci-fi troupes and a fantastically entertaining action picture. The film's success would spawn several spin-offs. Two sequels, an anime follow-up, and – following “RoboCop's” lead as a hard-R flick sold to kids – a cartoon show and a series of toys. Yet the original stands alone. Verhoeven considers it his favorite of his own films. And it's a favorite of mine too. [Grade: A]

Director Report Card: Paul Verhoeven (1995)

11. Showgirls

With the massive success of “Basic Instinct,” Paul Verhoeven and Joe Eszterhas proved that Americans would line up for a movie loaded with graphic sexual content. Galvanized, the two went to work on an even more extreme follow-up. “Showgirls” would pile on the sex and nudity to such a degree, that an NC-17 was the only rating the MPAA could ever conceivably hand out. It would be the first major studio release to go to theaters with the adults-only rating. It would also be the last major studio release with that distinction. “Showgirls” would be a fiasco, flopping at the box office and receiving reviews that could only be described as apocalyptic. The failure contributed to Eszterhas' professional meltdown and totally torpedoed Elizabeth Berkley's career. Yet over the years, the film would acquire a passionate cult following, being reclaimed as a camp masterpiece. Some have even hailed it as a serious satire. So which is it?

A girl calling herself Nomi hitchhikes into Las Vegas. She considers herself a dancer and dreams of becoming a star. After a guy steals her suitcase, she makes her first friend in a parking lot. That friend works as a seamstress at a casino, home of the glamorous “Goddess” dance show, starring Crystal Connors, the queen of the showgirls. While Nomi toils away in a super seedy strip club, she dreams of dancing in “Goddess.” Soon, that dream comes true, when she catches Crystal's eye. Nomi, however, craves more success. She won't stop sleeping with powerful men and hurting other people until she's the star of the show.

“Showgirls” takes place in an excessively trashy world. Everything about the movie is loud. The music, colors, and production values are over-the-top. The characters are in your face. Joe Eszterhas' dialogue is even more ridiculous and self-aggravatingly outrageous than in “Basic Instinct.” And at over two hours long, “Showgirls” is determined to squeeze in as much trashiness as possible. Some people embrace the awful dialogue and ridiculous aesthetic. Personally, I found the dialogue obnoxious. The movie's constant garishness quickly exhausted me, within the first half-hour. And there's still more than an hour left after that.

One of the reason I find “Showgirls” to be irritating is Nomi. In the opening scene, she repays an act of kindness with threats of violence. When she first meets Molly, who becomes her only real friend, she attacks her too. At a pivotal moment, Nomi pushes her professional rival down the stairs, getting the lead role in the stage show. And this is after that rival repeatedly tried to help her. The movie draws attention to her white trash roots – her love of cheeseburgers and potato chips, her obsession with getting her nails done, her inability to pronounce foreign words – which, frankly, I don't know how to interpret. Nomi is single minded, totally unscrupulous, and only cares about herself. She doesn't care who she hurts on her way to the top. Elizabeth Berkley's performance is utterly tone-deaf but you knew that already.

“Showgirls” is, in many odd ways, Paul Verhoeven's attempt at making a musicals. There's no actual singing but there's lots of dancing and songs. Something that's especially unbelievable about the film is how often Nomi's dancing abilities are praised. Pretty much every time she gets on-stage, someone complements on her raw talent. I don't know much about the art of dance but I feel confident in calling Nomi's dance moves awkward, at best. At worst, they look fucking dumb. She gyrates wildly, bends over at weird angles, spasmodically thrashes her hips, and waves her arms around in ridiculous ways. Even when dancing with a friend, a bouncer who attempts to romance her, Nomi maintains this goofball style of dance.

If you think Nomi's dancing skills are laughable, wait until you see the stage shows. The professional showgirls dance in a manner no less convulsive than Nomi, sliding across the stage in ways that look really goofy. Crystal Connors' “Goddess” show features a bizarre volcano set, with vaguely caveman like dancers. There's another set with white pillars, that feature Crystal floating off on wires. Later, there's an even stranger routine that feature leather outfits, motorcycles, and a metal set that spews sparks. I've never been to Vegas but I doubt a hotel would grant a topless dance routine production values that lavish. In general, these scenes look utterly ridiculous.

Then again, maybe thrashing around like a decapitated chicken is considered normal in the world of “Showgirls.” Observe, if you will, the film's various sex scenes. When Nomi is first introduced to Zach, the hotel's production manager, she's paid to give him a lap dance. She dry-humps him with frantic gyrations, twisting her body about in bizarre ways. This is merely a precursor to when Zach and Nomi consummate their relationship. You don't need me to tell you about the improvable positioning in the notorious dolphin pool sex scene. If the effect was to be erotic, it failed. Berkley's wild thrashing in the pool simply causes the viewer to exclaim in bafflement.

“Showgirls'” treatment of all things sexual is farcical for most of its run time. Until Nomi invites Molly to a party, where she meets Andrew Carver, a rock star she lusted after earlier in the film. Andrew takes Molly back to her room. What follows is an absolutely ghastly rape scene. Molly is  assaulted so brutally, her legs are bloody afterwards. She is beaten into unconsciousness. What the fuck does one make of this scene? The intimate, sickening way it's shot recalls a similar moment in “Spetters.” Yet even the sick humor you could possibly see in that moment is absent here. It's just an ugly, brutal sequence. Verhoeven's obsession with rape is becoming increasingly difficult to justify. 

If you give the director and writer the benefit of the doubt, that hideous rape scene might serve the film's themes. Andrew Carver's connection protect him from the law. While Molly is recuperating in the hospital, Zach learns the truth about Nomi. That she has an extensive criminal record, showing a previous life as a literal crack whore. He then brutally rejects her. In this moment, Nomi seems to show remorse for her ruthless actions. And the film's themes start to mirror “Katie Tippel,” stating that a man's world is so brutal that a woman must be equally brutal if she hopes to succeed.

Yet “Showgirls” immediately tosses this interesting point out to become a facile revenge fantasy. Nomi tracks Andrew Carver down and beats him up. That's it. She doesn't kill. She doesn't even cut his dick off. That wouldn't have made up for the ugliness of the rape but at least it would've provided the viewer with some catharsis. Nomi does nothing to stop Carver from abusing somebody else. Nomi then apologizes to Crystal and Molly, both of whom forgive her. It's a whimper of an ending, that does nothing to redeem Nomi or truly avenge her only real friend. Nomi's attack against Carver is shot like an action movie too, confirming that the filmmakers' seemingly believed this to be a satisfying conclusion.

So what of the performances? Most of the cast does not seem to know what sort of movie they were making. Elizabeth Berkley reads her lines in a totally clueless way, responding to everything stimuli with self-righteous annoyance. Kyle MacLachlan was vocal about his disapproval of the movie. His performance is deeply sleazy, playing against his somewhat wholesome image to odd effect. A few of the supporting players, however, are on Verhoeven's trashy wavelength. Gina Gershon, sporting a ridiculous Southern accent, hams it up as Crystal. She vamps effortlessly through her scenes. Robert Davi has a hilarious bit part as the extremely seedy owner of the strip club Nomi works in. Alan Rachins is similarly sleazy as the stage manager who insists Nomi's nipples aren't perky enough. 

In the years since its release, “Showgirls' has become recognized as a cult classic, one of those “so bad, it's good” type of movies. It's fairly obvious to me that “Showgirls” was supposed to be ridiculous. I don't know if all the humor was intentional but the film's excessive, over-the-top atmosphere was obviously on purpose. Other writers have gone even further, in their attempts to reclaim the film. Some see a satire of American values, that Nomi's ruthless ways is indicative of how our remorseless, capitalistic society. Some have even gone so far as to call “Showgirls” sorta feminist, seeing Nomi's status as a totally feckless anti-hero as representative.

All of these elements are clearly inside the film, to varying degrees. To me, this subversiveness doesn't make up for “Showgirls” being so insufferably obnoxious. I hate the characters, especially Nomi. The ridiculous dance routines don't make me laugh. The rape scene goes too far. By piling excess upon excess, Verhoeven just made sure I got tired of the film very quickly. Despite my problems with the picture, “Showgirls'” place in the pantheon of cult movies is secured. Unsurprisingly, there have been multiple DVD releases, quote-alongs, stage adaptations, and even a direct-to-video sequel. And fans are welcomed to them. [Grade: D]

RECENT WATCHES: RoboCop 3 (1993)

Orion Pictures were determined to make “RoboCop” into a franchise. After “RoboCop 2's” box office success, the company went right to work on a second sequel. “RoboCop 3” was filmed in 1991, a year after part two came out. Despite disliking how his script was mangled last time, Frank Miller was lured back to write. Fred Dekker, director of cult hits like “Night of the Creeps” and “The Monster Squad,” was hired to direct. A big budget sci-fi/action sequel could've been a breakthrough for the cult filmmaker. Instead, the producers demanded a family friendly flick. Once again, Miller's script was butchered. Orion went bankrupt and “RoboCop 3” wouldn't come to theaters until 1993. When the sequel was finally released, the reviews were bad and the box office was worst.

OCP has fallen on hard times and is facing a corporate buy-out from the Japanese. The mega-conglomerate needs Delta City, the high-tech metropolis built atop Detroit, ready immediately. OCP sends in the Rehabs, their personal army, to forcibly evict the residents out of the city's slums. An underground rebellion has cropped up, to protect the citizens and oppose the Rehabs. While in the area to fight gang members, RoboCop ends up between the Rehabs and the rebels. After Anne Lewis is shot dead, RoboCop finds himself aligned with the resistence and standing against the corporation that made him.

A subplot in “RoboCop 2” took aim at moral guardians who wanted RoboCop to be less ultra-violent. Orion's producers were less self-aware than they appeared. In the wake of “RoboCop: The Animated Series,” a franchise defined by its gore was retrofitted to be kid friendly. Thus, “RoboCop 3” features few squibs and no graphic violence. The toning down doesn't stop there. The satire is reeled way back. We get one satirical commercial, an attempt by OCP to sell the Rehabs to kids. The movie ratchets up the goofiness. Such as the ridiculous mohawked gang members or a sequence where RoboCop drives an exploding pimp mobile. Most embarrassing of all, RoboCop gets a kid sidekick. She's called Nikko and she can't be older than ten. Yet she's such a genius that she can hack ED-209 with ease. She's the worst kind of overreaching kid sidekick, designed to be too precocious, too brilliant.

Despite a script obviously hassled by meddling executives, “RoboCop 3” does start with an interesting idea. A key scene puts the cyborg once known as Alex Murphy in a tricky scenario. On one side is a church full of innocent homeless people. On the other side is OCP's private army. He's pulled between two of his prime directives. How can he both protect the innocent and uphold the law? It's an interesting idea that “RoboCop 3” quickly scraps. After Anne is killed, RoboCop has his programming rewritten so he can get revenge on OCP and the Rehabs. I suppose, if the franchise was going to continue, RoboCop taking on OCP head-on was inevitable. When “RoboCop 3” has the hero marching into the corporate head-quarters with a flamethrower, it's taken things too far.

“RoboCop 3” was made for 10 million less than “RoboCop 2.” This is evident in a few ways. The special effects aren't as strong. ED-209 is still brought to life by Phil Tippet's brilliant stop-motion work. However, the dim-witted robot only appears in two brief scenes. RoboCop doesn't appear on-screen until ten minutes in. He doesn't actually do anything until the twenty minute mark. By the time RoboCop straps on a jet pack, the limitations of the budget become especially apparent. The action, overall, is forgettable. Fred Dekker wanted to hire a Hong Kong stunt team. However, Orion couldn't afford that. So the action is pretty weak, too often reduced to guns going off and people falling down. One really awkward scene has RoboCop shooting a gun out of a bad guy's hand, to embarrassing effects.

Another serious sin “RoboCop 3” commits is recasting the main role. Peter Weller was unavailable, due to filming “Naked Lunch” at the same time. Robert John Burke, a character actor who had starred in two Hal Hartly movies and “Dust Devil” by then, filled Weller's suit. Burke does a decent job of replicating Weller's robotic movement. However, he doesn't bring the same pathos to the part, his hands shackled by a thin script. There's some other talent in the cast. Nancy Allen agreed to appear only if they killed her character off. Allen, fittingly, seems deeply disinterested in what's happening. Rip Torn gets a few funny moments as the gutless CEO of OCP. Mostly, the talented supporting cast – Jill Hennessy, CCH Pounder, Stephen Root, Mako – are wasted in underwritten parts. Hennessy maybe gets the worst of it, as the scientist who befriends RoboCop and the little girl.

In an interview years after the fact, Fred Dekker took full responsibility for “RoboCop 3,” dismissing the narrative that a young director was steamrolled by pushy producers. If you squint, you can see some of Dekker's trademarks shining through. A shot, devoted to RoboCop carrying Lewis' body through a dimly church, recalls Dekker's work as a horror director. The aforementioned OCP commercial is brought to life with some goofy animation, which seems to fit Dekker's style. A plot point that clearly came from Frank Miller are the robot samurais that OCP's Japanese owners send to Detroit. One cool scene has the katana-wielding android straighten his mechanical jaw after getting whacked with a steel pipe. Sadly, this kooky element is underutilized.

“RoboCop 3” flopped but the franchise would continued. A television series would follow the next year, lasting for one season and earning little attention. Even though there's a sea of mediocre “RoboCop” spin-offs out there, the third entry still gets the most hate from fans. Which isn't totally unfair, as “RoboCop 3” is deeply mediocre. It's certainly less awesome than you'd expect a “RoboCop” movie directed by Fred Dekker and written by a pre-insanity Frank Miller to be. If given more time and money, and fewer family-friendly mandates from Orion, those two might've made something special out of this. Instead, they contribute to “RoboCop's” faltering reputation as a series. [5/10]

Director Report Card: Paul Verhoeven (1992)

10. Basic Instinct

After successfully bringing his love of graphic violence to Hollywood, Paul Verhoeven's next movie would try and sell the West on his love of explicit sex. “Basic Instinct” would team the director with Joe Eszterhas, the screenwriter of “Flashdance” and other, less successful films. The teaming would pay off. “Basic Instinct” would become the fourth highest grossing film of the year. It remains one of the most iconic movies of the nineties. Eszterhas would become Hollywood's highest paid hack. Verhoeven's string of super hits would continue. And Sharon Stone would become a superstar. But how does “Basic Instinct” hold up, twenty-five years later?

A washed-up rock star is brutally stabbed to death with an ice pick by the woman he's having sex with. The homicide team, including Detective Nick Curran, immediately suspect Catherine Tramell, the dead man's girlfriend. Tramell is an author, whose latest novel seems to mirror the murder. Curran soon discovers Tramell has a fascination with violent crimes. And that people around her have a habit of dying, usually in ways predicted by her writing. Yet Nick can't resist the woman and begins a steamy affair with her. Soon, he begins to suspect somebody wants him dead and he's not sure if Catherine or someone else is responsible.

“Basic Instinct” has often been compared to Verhoeven's own “The 4th Man.” Both are thrillers loaded with graphic sex, utilizing similar black widow story lines. The big difference is “Basic Instinct” is incredibly dumb. In “The 4th Man,” the audience's suspicions rise with the protagonist's. No such doubt exist in “Basic Instinct.” From the moment Catherine slithers on-screen, it's obvious she's the killer. Catherine practically tells Nick she's going to kill him. Characters repeatedly make bad decisions, choosing to associate with an obvious serial killer or rush head-first into danger. And that doesn't even consider Eszterhas' ridiculous, overheated dialogue.

By 1992, Michael Douglas had already starred in “Fatal Attraction,” the previous high water mark for the erotic thriller genre. As in that film, Douglas is an anti-hero at best. Yet Nick Curran is an even bigger scumbag than Dan Gallagher. He's a moron, continuously associating with a woman that obviously kills people. He's an asshole, being a mean-spirited jerk to everyone around him. His default response to everything is violence, attack two fellow cops throughout the film. Worst yet, he has rough sex with his ex-girlfriend in one scene, grabbing her and pushing her over a chair. She doesn't seem to entirely enjoy it. Douglas' performance is at maximum sweatiness. He's tense at all times. He plays the part like a raging gonad, all macho bluster and asshole bullshit. (Douglas would also appear in “Disclosure,” making him the go-to guy for this sort of thing.)

Douglas was already a star during “Basic Instinct.” The film would make Sharon Stone a superstar, if only for a fleeting moment. Stone was having bitchy fun in “Total Recall” but, as Catherine Tramell, she slithers through every scene. Stone purrs all her dialogue. Every movement is made to generate as much sex appeal as possible. It's over-the-top but is one of the most successful elements of the film. When Tramell shows a sensitive side, Stone makes it clear that it's just another performance while still being convincing to the characters around her. It's easy to see why Stone would become a star. But you also understand why her fame was so short lived. This kind of acting probably wouldn't work outside the high-strung world of “Basic Instinct.”

The only person who seems to be taking “Basic Instinct” seriously is Jeanne Tripplehorn. She plays Beth Garner, the police psychologist who has had an on-again/off-again relationship with Nick. This is flagrantly unethical but that's the stupid, trashy world “Basic Instinct” exists in. Anyway, Tripplehorn is the only person concerned about the events around her. She's shaken by Nick's bad behavior and Catherine's obvious murderous streak. It's a personable, human performance in a movie of sweaty excess. (I also find her way sexier than Stone but that's a matter of taste, I suppose.) At the other end of the spectrum is George Dzundza as Nick's partner, Gus. Dzundza must be going for comedy. While everyone else chokes on Eszterhas' outrageous dialogue, Dzundza bites into it. He has the movie's most ridiculous liens but manages to make them funny.

“Basic Instinct” would see Paul Verhoven re-team with Jan de Bont, the director of photography would worked on most of his Dutch film. It would also be their last collaboration, as de Bont would soon launch his own directorial career with “Speed.” Jan de Bont guarantees that “Basic Instinct” looks good. The film is incredibly slick visually. This is most obvious during “Basic Instinct's” most notorious moment. Yes, I'm talking about the crotch shot that launched a thousand Skinemax flicks. The scene is tensely directed, the camera angle's tight, focused on the characters' faces. I keep describing “Basic Instinct” as sweaty but that adjective certainly describe this moment. Everyone's faces are caked with perspiration. The luridness of the scene is stretched to its breaking point. If only all of the movie balanced sleaze and entertainment equally.

By this point, Paul Verhoeven had established himself in America as an action director. Maybe that's why “Basic Instinct” also features some action sequences. There's at least two elaborate car chases. One of which has Douglas' vehicle weaving in and out of traffic on a perilous cliff-side road, a really stupid decision he sticks with. This is just a precursor to an even big car chase in the middle of the movie. Two muscle cars leap through the hills of San Francisco. When that isn't enough, they literally drive down a staircase. Naturally, the scene concludes with a big car wreck, a vehicle twisting off an incline. If that's not enough for you, the movie also features a few tense foot chases too.

Of course, “Basic Instinct” isn't really an “action movie.” It mostly features action of a markedly different type. The multiple sex scenes – a montage of the humping sequences, that can be found in the disreputable corners of the internet, runs over twelve minutes – vary from genuinely erotic to laughable. Nick taking Beth in his living room is intimate and passionate, skeezy as the scenario is. When Nick and Catherine finally do it, “Basic Instinct” features one of the more explicit depictions of oral sex you'll find in a mainstream movie. Yet most of the sensual moments in “Basic Instinct” are overly choreographed, featuring the kind of elaborate movie sex that would send most people to the emergency room. Lots of arched backs and exaggerated moaning. This is not the raw sexiness seen in Verhoeven's Dutch films. This is shiny, slick, mid-nineties eroticism. If this stuff tickles your pickle is entirely a matter of personal preference but it threatens to push “Basic Instinct” into the realm of camp.

Verhoeven being Verhoeven, the director can't help but throw in some ultra-violence with his graphic sex. Sometimes in the same scene! The opening ice pick murder focuses on spurting blood and agonized twitching. In the last act, “Basic Instinct” features a moment that wouldn't be out-of-place in a slasher flick. A killer clad in an obscuring rain slicker corners a victim in an elevator. The man is stabbed repeatedly in the neck, oozing more blood than is probably in the human body. It's a fantastic moment, providing catharsis to the tension running under most of the movie. You know the gore is good because it's provided by Rob Bottin, who made the mutants in “The Thing” and “Total Recall.” Honestly, if “Basic Instinct” favored the hacking and slashing over the fucking and humping, I probably would've liked it more.

“Basic Instinct” is one of the few films that has been described as both feminist and misogynistic. I guess it depends on how you read things. Those that call “Basic Instinct” feminist point out that Catherine triumphs over all the men in the film, using her feminine wiles to succeed over the men who oppose her. Those that accuse the picture of sexism point out that Catherine is depicted as a venomous she-cobra, that murders everyone in her life. And both camps are right, so I have no idea what to think. Neither group can support the obvious biphobia in the picture. Catherine has a lived-in girlfriend who ends up dead. Later, another bisexual women gets Catherine's crimes pinned on her. This stuff just hasn't aged well.

“Basic Instinct” is trash and knows it. Which makes Jerry Goldsmith's elegant, haunting score surprising. Goldsmith created a sense of mystery with plucking harp chords and chiming piano beats, while whining strings build suspense throughout the music. When the film goes in for the kill, so does Goldsmith's music. During the attacks and pseudo-attacks, Goldsmith's score blares to bombastic heights, doing a jump scare's job without overdoing it. The music's strength was such that the Academy Awards honored it with a nomination, even though erotic thrillers are not the types of movies Oscar usually singles out.

“Basic Instinct” was the right movie at the right time. I can't imagine something like this making 352 million dollars in 2017. That the long delayed sequel flopped so hard, that Sharon Stone's career burned so bright so briefly, should attest to that. It built upon the AIDS-era “be careful who you fuck” subtext of “Fatal Attraction” but in a campier, more high-strung direction. Which was perfect for the nineties. It also shows Verhoeven becoming more self-aware in his trashiness. Yet several sequences – the opening, the interrogation, the car chase, that stabbing near the end – work extremely well. I'm not quite sure what to make of the final product, a movie that irritates me with its dumbness even when it's being entertaining. [Grade: B-]

RECENT WATCHES: RoboCop 2 (1990)

With the commercial success of the original “RoboCop,” a franchise had been launched. This was fitting, as “RoboCop” was basically a superhero movie before such things were in vogue. Despite seemingly being ready made for sequels, “RoboCop 2” went through some speed bumps. Paul Verhoeven was approached to direct but turned the project down, feeling like Orion just wanted to cash in on the first's success. Ed Neumier and Michael Miller's sequel idea was well received but they ultimately left the project due to a writer's strike. Instead, Irvin “The Empire Strikes Back” Kershner was brought in to direct, while comic auteur Frank Miller provided the script. Miller's script was heavily altered by Kershner and the producers, displeasing both Peter Weller and Nancy Allen. The resulting film made money but satisfied few fans.

It's not surprising to read that “RoboCop 2's” screenplay was needlessly shuffled around. The finished film features a weirdly convoluted plot, that is both overwritten and underwritten. It involves a mostly needless subplot about Detroit going bankrupt and the mayor's desperate attempts to keep OCP from buying out the city. This jives badly with an imbecilic attempt by OCP to recreate RoboCop and the main plot, about the cyborg hero fighting an insane drug dealer/cult leader named Cain. These plot lines eventually come together in an exceedingly messy fashion, leading to a last act that is heavy on the action but short on dramatic satisfaction.

Another big problem with “RoboCop2 “ is how it handles Alex Murphy's character arc. The first film ended with the robotic cop regaining his humanity. The sequel could have explored what happened next. Would Murphy try to get his old life back? Part two addresses these questions in a half-hearted fashion. RoboCop is still working for OCP, which seems an unlikely conclusion. He is stalking his wife, driving by her house during the day. This leads to an encounter in the police department between RoboCop and the woman that was his wife. With encouragement from OCP professionals, he tells her to go away, that her husband is dead. And that's the last we hear of that subplot. Instead of building on the original's character development, the sequel intentionally tosses it out.

“RoboCop 2” does explore the conflict between Murphy's human soul and his robotic programming... But in the most awkward fashion possible. After his emotions making him difficult to control – and the bad guys chop him up – RoboCop's three prime directives get expanded to hundreds, many of them conflicting. This leads to fitfully entertaining scenes of RoboCop acting very strangely, weakly disciplining children, reading Miranda Rights to a corpse, and shooting a cigarette out of a smoker's mouth. These moments are funny, and sold well by a typically compelling Peter Weller. There's some decent jabs here at moral guardians who want the hyperviolent RoboCop to be a kid-friendly superhero. Yet the humor ends up meshing roughly with the rest of the film. The sequel's humor, in general, is overdone. Its attempts to copy the original's satirical commercials hit certain notes way too hard.

Being a product of the early nineties, the overblown sequel to the eighties, “RoboCop 2” has to try and top the original. Since it was too dumb to truly top the original's pathos or satire, “RoboCop 2” placates itself by ramping the action up. Some of the action scenes are, admittedly, pretty damn cool. After gunning his way through the bad guys' drug lab, RoboCop chases after Cain on a motorcycle. He gets skidded across a brick wall and eventually plays chicken with the large truck. That stuff is neat. Yet “RoboCop 2's” desire to outgun the original results in violence that is often overly mean-spirited. There's just as much gore but part two lacks Paul Verhoeven's love of theatrical bloodshed. Instead, Kershner's action scenes degrade into RoboCop firing his gun and bad guys bloodily falling down. It's blunt and not nearly as much fun.

“RoboCop 2” pretends to be faithful to the original's social commentary. Yet its basic plot line boils down to that most empty of late eighties/early nineties platitudes. RoboCop says Just Say No. It's no coincidence that the movie's fictional drug, “Nuke,” has the same number of syllables and the same hard k sound as “crack.” Instead of making a point about the impact a society destroying drug had on inner cities, “RoboCop 2” plays anti-drug hysteria totally straight. Nuke is the worst drug ever. It's super addictive and its high is similar to religious awe. The drug turns users into hyper-violent acolytes. RoboCop and all the other cops are disgusted by the mere presence of Nuke. The sequel is attempting to address a serious social woe but approaches the topic with all the subtly of ED-209.

Another thing I dislike about “RoboCop 2” is how it turns OCP's Old Man into a major villain. The original gave the impression that Dan O'Herlihy's executive was at least less evil than his underlings. Part two reveals that the Old Man is even more calculating, cynical, and decadent than Dick Jones. O'Herlihy's performance is entertaining, if nothing else. Nancy Allen is mostly going through the motion, the script not giving Anne Lewis much to do. Delinda Bauer is likably sleazy as the psychologist that chooses Cain to be OCP's next murderborg, even if the character is so dumbly written. There was no topping Kurtwood Smith's Clarence Boddicker but “RoboCop 2” does have a pretty great bad guy. Tom Noonan brings all of his boundless nervous energy to Cain, a totally committed villain whose creepy God complex is only topped by his dependence on Nuke.

In fact, Cain is probably the best thing about “RoboCop 2.” The movie's last act is an orgy of destruction that lacks much meaning. Even from a plot perspective, it's a shaggy mess. However, the giant murderous cyborg is pretty damn cool. Code-named RoboCop 2 – which is a clever way to get the sequel's title actually in the movie – Cain's robo-body is brought to life via more of Phil Tippet's ingenious stop motion. The machine is all snapping claws and blazing chain guns. Despite his bulky size, he quickly navigates elevator shafts and auditorium halls. Tippet even incorporates some humor. When the Old Man foolishly holds up a canister of the drug Cain is dependent on, the robot hungerily snaps his claws. That's just one example of the character and personality Tippet brings to the massive kill-bot.

“RoboCop 2's” score isn't even as good as the original. Instead of reprising Basil Poledouris' brilliant score, Leonard Rosenman started from scratch. His heroic theme is alright but employing a choir, chanting “RoboCop!,” was probably a step too far. “RoboCop 2” is clearly a compromised affair. The script is disorganized. The tone is all over the place. The sequel lacks the original's heart. It does feature some cool action and creature work. Weller and Noonan's performances are worth seeing. Yet “RoboCop 2” is largely lackluster, failing to live up to the majesty of the first film. It's exactly what Paul Verhoeven feared it would be: a quickie cash-in. [6/10]