Rollerball

I never believed in extra-terrestrials until now. The action flick remake of the 1975 original began at a high level of excitement with the slick editing and intense death-defying urban luging down the streets of San Francisco to a Marilyn Manson industrial rage beat. But the scale started to slide a bit during the ludicrous futuristic circus sport of animalistic players wearing tutus, warrior helmets, and body paint, though I gave it all the benefit of the doubt. But when the screen suddenly and illogically turned a blurry night goggle green, that is when I became convinced that alien beings penetrated our atmosphere and abducted director John McTiernan because from that moment on political loose ends began to run amuck, a gratuitous naked weight training session popped up out of left field, ACME-cartoon-quality sound effects became unstoppable, and a laughable no holds barred blood bath began with Keanu Reeves' evil twin leading the way. Now I am forever changed and never again will doubt the immense powers of those little green men.