IT’S LATER, ‘GATOR, FOR ‘ELIMINATORS’
James Cameron has a lot to answer for. He co-wrote “Rambo,” dooming us to at least three years of “Slambo-Bambo” spinoffs. Even his good movie, “The Terminator,” had dark consequences: People keep trying to persuade us we’re watching it, when we aren’t.
There’ve been “The Exterminator” (perhaps that one came first) and “Annihilators.” Somewhere along the line there was a “Mutilator”--and now Empire Pictures has come up with “Eliminators” (citywide).
You can imagine what the future holds: “The Decimator,” “The Obliterator,” “The Eradicator.” Triple X rip-offs like “The Titillator” or “The Sperminator.” A pro-football horror: “The Refrigerator.” And, finally, when the projects are slipping past weak eyes: “The Inhalator,” “The Purolator” and “Eighter From Decatur.”
“Eliminators” is par for the course from Empire: a small, growing independent company that specializes in movies that sound like other movies (like “Ghoulies”), and are written like comic books. Empire, commendably, has become a volcano of activity--and it’s managed to showcase a fine cinematographer (Mac Ahlberg), a clever effects man (John Beuchler) and at least one good new director, Stuart Gordon (his movie, naturally, was “Re-Animator”).
Steven Spielberg has no more fervent devotees than the people at Empire; they keep relentlessly pastiching his movies. Unfortunately, Spielberg’s movies are pastiches to begin with, and that often leaves us with something like twice-cooked leftover refried beans. “Eliminators” has not only a half-cyborg hero with a clockwork head (a “Mandroid”), it tosses in a cynical adventurer, a feisty lady inventor, a cute little robot and even a Ninja. This oddly various crew are the “Eliminators” and their target is (are you ready for this?) a mad scientist who wants to rule the world.
Actually, that’s not quite the cliche it sounds. He doesn’t want to rule our world; he wants to fly back in a time machine to ancient Rome, and rule theirs. But, somehow, he’s managed to offend all the Eliminators--by firing the Mandroid and killing the Ninja’s father, and “bastardizing” the inventor’s work. So, surrounded by his surly gang of Cajun and Latino mercenaries, cackling madly, the scientist awaits their attack, before high-tailing it for Rome and glory.
Empire doesn’t decline and fall completely with this film. Ahlberg, again, shoots beautifully; and Roy Dotrice (the mad scientist) swaggers neatly. There’s a nice, clean, uncluttered look to the picture (a first effort by Peter Manoogian). Unfortunately, the story not only suggests a comic, but one you’ve read six times already and didn’t like to begin with. If you’re surprised by anything--even when the Ninja suddenly shows up in the jungles of Mexico--you’re probably an easy mark.
At one point, Andrew Prine as the Indiana Jones clone sums up the situation nicely. “What is this?” he sputters, “Some kind of blankety-blank comic book?” If even the movie’s characters are becoming exasperated, can you imagine how the audience feels?
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