Evolution
It’s The End Of The World As We Know It, and I Feel Fine
We are beginning to see signs that 2001 may be the year of the Cuisinart Movie. The year’s first big hit was Hannibal, which was a reprocessed version of Silence of the Lambs with some David Mamet thrown in here and there. Pearl Harbor whizzed around scraps from other, better WWII movies in with some CGI magic. The Animal mized in Saturday Night Live bits with forgettable 1980’s comedies and a star from “Survivor”. The repellent Swordfish consciously threw in Dog Day Afternoon and Sugarland Express into the blender, along with pieces of Battlefield Earth and The Matrix and Lethal Weapon, and set to puree. And you can make the same argument for Shrek, certainly, and The Mummy Returns, and 3000 Miles to Graceland, and Enemy at the Gates, and… well, that’s everything I’ve seen so far this year, but you get the idea. We have reached that stage of post-modern movie development where you can’t make a truly original movie. Instead, you have to construct your movie with parts from other movies, and your success or failure depends on what you put in the blender, and what speed you set it on, and what comes out.
So it shouldn’t be any surprise that Evolution takes elements from Ghostbusters and X-Files and Independence Day and Armageddon and Jurassic Park and, well, you get the picture, and mooshes them all up and tosses them in the blender and serves the goop that comes out on toast. What’s worse, all of the aforementioned movies were something of Cuisinart creations themselves, so what you’re getting here is third-generation goop. It’s certainly not good for you, whatever it is.
And yet, I liked it.
Evolution is not an exemplar of good directing or good editing or good special effects or good screenwriting or any of the lively arts of moviemaking. It is not particularly funny or particularly clever or particularly anything, and it’s not especially successful as a parody. The special effects aren’t. The movie’s scientific knowledge is suspect at best, with its big moment coming when someone makes a silly hypothesis based the periodic table, which happens to be featured on another character’s T-shirt.
And yet, I liked it.
The theory of Evolution is that good performances can redeem a bad movie. (Notice that I don’t say “good acting”, there’s a difference.) Evolution has three very good performances going for it, performances that are fun and lively and goofy, and those performances are just enough to make it worthwhile summer viewing. What Evolution lacks in almost every area is made up by the trio of David Duchovny, Orlando Jones, and Julianne Moore, who manage to turn a real howler of a script into a lighthearted comic gem.
Duchovny and Jones play community college professors at a small school in the Arizona foothills, teaching students who presumably can’t manage to make it into Arizona State, which says a lot. Duchovny’s narcoleptic charm is perfect for his role as a burnt-out scientist, and Jones’s amiable cluelessnes works perfectly in his role as a wannabe know-it-all. The two scientists discover a meteorite that harbors an alien life form (”Do you think they give you the Nobel Prize all at once, or in installments?” Jones asks); however, the life form is mutating at an alarming rate. (”Tell me again,” Jones asks, “how many cells are there in a single-cell organism?”)
Evolution works to the extent that it does because of the banter between Duchovny and Jones; it’s like nothing so much as the old “I Spy” TV series with Robert Culp and Bill Cosby. (It is a little too early to draw comparisons between Orlando Jones and Bill Cosby, but the potential is there.) Their characters are a little dim, but the actors are smart, witty, and obviously having a terrific time playing their roles. Duchovny especially looks as though he’s been released from jail; he clearly relishes the opportunity to poke fun at his humorless X-Files character.
When the aliens get a little too big to handle, the federal government takes over, with endearingly clumsy Julianne Moore playing a top CDC scientist. (A scientist who appears to double as a lawyer; she’s got a great scene where she cross-examines a reluctant Duchovny on his scientific background.) She’s got the thankless Dorothy Lamour part in this movie, but her stunning smile and her banter with Duchovny make her an appealing character. (She’s probably just as happy as can be not to be in Hannibal, I expect.)
Unfortunately, as the alien cluster gets larger and larger, the laughs get fewer, and dumber. There’s a scene where the aliens’ cavern produces an apelike creature (no, not Dan Ackroyd, but good guess) that has to be destroyed before it makes its way to Tim Burton’s Planet of the Apes set, and everything after that proceeds downhill. The smart comedy and good performances give way to cheap sphincter jokes, a novel (yet disgusting) product placement, and a lame happy ending.
Evolution is just another Cuisinart movie, I’m afraid, but there are enough good pieces in the mix to make it a worthwhile summer viewing choice. Enjoy it as much as you can. At the rate that summer movies keep de-evolving, this may be the best choice you’ll make for awhile.