More Fat, Less Flavor

Summer is the season of junk-food movies, yes, but not all junk food tastes the same. So if Twister is the Big Mac of the summer movie season (large, homogenized, forgettable) and Mission: Impossible is the Arch Deluxe (a little quirky, sort of classy, ultimately given to corporate blandness), what does that make the latest two summer fast-food flicks: the low-budget sci-fi actioner The Arrival and the expensive, effects-laden fantasy Dragonheart? Let’s just say the difference between the two movies is that of a lovingly prepared burger from a local hamburger stand—a sloppy, overstuffed, spicy Fat Mo’s, brimming with flavor and empty calories—versus the same old overhyped McWhatsit.

The Arrival offers Charlie Sheen as a radio astronomer (so right away, you know the film has a sense of humor). Working late one night, Sheen encounters a strange signal from what could be an alien world. He takes the tape to his NASA superior, played by Ron Silver, who promptly and mysteriously fires him. Continuing his investigation independently, Sheen travels to Mexico, where he uncovers a far-reaching conspiracy that involves alien invasion and the Greenhouse Effect. At this point, The Arrival plunges into one of science-fiction’s classic “turnabout” premises: NASA has plans to colonize other worlds—but what if another world had plans to colonize earth?

This premise, with its pale X-Files rip-off overtones, is the least interesting thing about The Arrival. What gives the film its zip is the way the plot unfolds—slowly, and with a real spirit of discovery. As the film’s director, David Twohy is merely competent, but as screenwriter he never stops imagining. When Sheen’s character loses his job at the beginning of the movie, Twohy writes him a new job at a cable company, so that Sheen can tweak his neighborhood’s satellite dishes and carry on his research at their expense. When the action moves to Mexico, Twohy dreams up a Day of the Dead festival as an excuse to wobble skeleton puppets in the background. And then there’s my favorite bit of business: When Sheen is cornered in the aliens’ Mexican lair, he jumps into the machine that cloaks them in human guise and emerges as...a Mexican Charlie Sheen!

That The Arrival had me giggling with delight every few minutes is due to Twohy’s inventive staging and over-the-top dialogue. (“Algorithms I trust, Boolean logic I trust; beautiful women...they just mystify me.”) It’s also due to the presence of Charlie Sheen, whose unsmiling face, thick-headed intensity, and yeoman can-do attitude is practically a living parody of his father Martin. A personable actor who shines in projects appropriate to his talent (Major League, Hot Shots), Sheen may be the only actor who could bring off the combination of paranoia and determination that The Arrival requires. Despite the movie’s length and dogged pace, Sheen’s wide-eyed curiosity keeps the film moving to its next engagingly dopey (though never merely stupid) set piece.

Even at its slowest, The Arrival is more fun than Dragonheart, the week’s other junk-food special. A sword-and-sorcery flick of the most routine variety, Dragonheart is fun for precisely 15 minutes, and those come smack in the middle of the picture. Dennis Quaid, as a disavowed knight and legendary dragon-slayer, strikes a bargain with the last living dragon, Draco (voiced by Sean Connery), to travel the countryside bilking villagers in much the same way James Garner and Lou Gossett Jr. did in Skin Game. In each village, Quaid pretends to slay Draco and collects a sack of gold; as soon as they’re done, dragon and dragoon hit the road once more—solid, entertaining stuff.

Unfortunately, the medieval con game is not at the center of Dragonheart. Instead, we get a wrung-dry recapitulation of the despotic-king/peasant-rebellion plot, culminating in muddy battle scenes and foggy speeches about nobility. It’s basically Braveheart with a computer-animated dragon subbing for a blue-faced Mel Gibson. (That it’s only slightly worse says a lot about last year’s Best Picture winner.)

David Thewlis joins the long line of exciting young English actors who have signed up to play the fop du jour in American adventure films. As the villainous King Einon, Thewlis mostly mumbles his lines (a service, actually) and scrunches up his face (which is quite hideous in widescreen). Dennis Quaid fares only slightly better as the dimwitted and reluctant hero. The real star, of course, is the dragon, impressively brought to life by Connery and special-effects wizard Phil Tippett, who designed the Imperial Walkers in The Empire Strikes Back. The dragon has character and style; what he doesn’t have is a story to justify his expense.

It’s possible that kids might enjoy Dragonheart. To continue the burger analogy, Dragonheart is like one of those 59-cent jobbies that accompanies the kiddie meal—it’s flavorless, but it comes with a toy. Adults, however, will either be bored or distracted by little questions: How come Quaid fits inside the dragon’s mouth early in the movie, but in later scenes he’s three times the size of the dragon’s head? Why does the story take place exactly in 984 A.D.? And why, to kill Einon, is it necessary to pierce his heart? Surely cutting off his head is worth a try.