Published: February 15, 2002

Havin’ a ball, wish I were dead
The wait is over: With the futuristic sports flick remake ‘Rollerball,’ the worst film of 2002 has arrived. You’ve been warned.

BY STEVE WARNER
of Pulse

Loud. Obnoxious. Lumbering. Dumb. Interminable. Bad. Bad. Bad.

Not even these words can adequately describe the living hell that is John McTiernan’s latest action extravaganza, "Rollerball." I should have known something was up when this film was delayed from its original summer 2001 release date for "last-minute re-shoots."

Then there were those reports leaked barely a week ago that said McTiernan ("Die Hard") was still tinkering with this dog, trying to edit it into something coherent. Star Rebecca Romijn-Stamos tried to help matters by saying the famed director was merely making the movie more action-oriented to satisfy the teen-age demographic. She said the film’s satiric elements were being removed, as was much of its social commentary on the perpetuation of violence in today’s media.

In other words, McTiernan took out anything that could potentially be viewed as intelligent or thought-provoking. Thanks for the good news, Rebecca. So now when I call this film "mindless," even its leading lady has to agree with me.

But mindless action would have been a welcome relief from the wretched excess presented here. I certainly believe McTiernan was editing this thing up until the last possible moment; the film has been edited within an inch of its life, and then some. I firmly believe there exists on the cutting room floor a semi-decent movie, or at the very least a watchable one. I am not over-exaggerating when I say that, as is, this film makes no sense whatsoever.

Let’s take the game of rollerball, for example. A cross between hockey and roller derby, the goal of rollerball is to gain control of an eight-pound steel ball and throw it into your team’s goal, resulting in lots of sparks and siren-squealing. The player must make it around the figure-eight track twice before even attempting to make a goal.

Sure, it sounds simple enough, but I haven’t even mentioned the motorcycles constantly flying through the air, or the extreme viciousness with which the participants play this game.

What are the rules? God only knows, although in the film’s final game all rules are thrown out the window, and the action still looks like it does in every other damn rollerball sequence.

The game footage here is shown at such a frenzied pace that I had no idea what the hell was going on at any given moment. It’s all just bright flashes of revving motorcycles, masked rollerskaters and a very spry metal ball.

Imagine, just for a moment, the amount of damage you could do with an eight-pound steel ball. That would not only leave a mark, but it would leave your brains splattered across the track. Watch as the players catch it with their gloved hands at unimaginable speeds! That isn’t skill; that’s freakin’ impossible!

But not even the MTV-style quick cuts and bloodied bodies can disguise the fact that the game of rollerball is a snooze-inducer. Think of the XFL, only more pathetic, and you just about have it.

The plot of this film, if that’s what you want to call it, revolves around a sweet-natured doofus named Jonathan Cross (Chris Klein) who becomes involved in the extreme sport after getting into some trouble with the local American authorities. (Don’t even ask why, unless you really want to hear about illegal luge/skateboard-type racing. See, I told you not to ask.) Rollerball, it turns out, is played somewhere in the middle of South America. Why? Um, well ...

Jonathan is a minor league hockey star, so he knows how to handle a pair of skates really well, and proves to be a natural at rollerball. After all, every hockey game I’ve ever been to has involved speeding motorcycles and heavy steel balls.

Rollerball was invented by the ruthless Alexi Petrovich (Jean Reno), a wealthy tycoon who desperately wants to snare an American cable deal with his latest sports venture. He knows the only way he can do this is to increase the blood quotient. So in each game, as viewership reaches its lowest numbers, Petrovich decides to throw in an unexpected bit of the old ultra-violence. Ratings naturally spike, and everyone is happy. Except, of course, for the poor schlub who now lays unconscious in a hospital bed because of Petrovich’s actions.

Jonathan and his pals Marcus (LL Cool J) and Aurora (Rebecca Romijn-Stamos) discover what Petrovich is doing and decide that they need to get the hell out of town. But it isn’t that simple because, after all, we’re talking about an American cable deal here!

What cable company wouldn’t snap up the rights to this game in a second is anyone’s guess. I mean, "Temptation Island" is on the air, for the love of God!

Just how Jonathan and friends find out about Petrovich’s evil ways proves to be the film’s true highlight, as they discover that the chin strap on the helmet of a badly injured teammate was deliberately cut. Good eye, guys, except for the fact that the teammate in question is continually shown never wearing his chin strap! Hell, no one on the team uses the damn things.

Whoops.

And so, many chase sequences ensue, as our heroes try to escape with their lives. It all leads up to that aforementioned final game, where anything, everything and nothing happens in the ultimate paradox. Hooray.

I automatically have a problem with any film that chastises the American public for deriving pleasure from violence, and then proceeds to serve up one disgustingly violent sequence after another for the audience’s enjoyment. Watch as our hero proclaims, "Can’t we all just get along?" and then proceeds to kill one person after another for no reason other than that he’s really mad.

And I just loved it when the other rollerball players starting pointlessly beating the crap out of the innocent audience members. Touching.

An assault of another kind is Klein’s performance, which made me yearn for the subtle shadings of Keanu Reeves. Monochromatic line readings do not an action hero make, although it does prove that Klein’s breakthrough role in 1999’s "Election" was a complete and utter fluke.

Then there’s Reno, hamming it up like he just ate Anthony Hopkins for breakfast. Look at that Petrovich, wearing big fur coats and waving his hands in the air. He’s crazy, I say. Crazy!

And I haven’t even mentioned the 10-minute sequence that looks as though it was filmed with night-vision goggles. The action is green, fuzzy and literally incomprehensible. I felt like I was trapped in an Apple computer from 1985.

And through it all, rocker Rob Zombie blares through the speakers, screaming, "I feel so bad, I feel so numb."

You took the words right out of my mouth, Robbie.