Independence Day: Resurgence: A Masterstroke of Turdishness
Reviewed by Henry Bernice for DecimalPointless.
(Editor’s note: Henry Bernice, one of our resident film critics, has been struck by lightning seven times. Please keep this in mind when reading his reviews, which are strictly for entertainment purposes only.)
Roland Emmerich, the creative genius behind The Patriot, Godzilla, and The Cosby Mysteries, is back with a vengeance. His latest effort is Independence Day: Resurgence, which is, of course, the sequel to Independence Day: Insurgence, which is based on book two in the Y-A sci-fi quadrilogy of novels written by Doris Kearns Goodwin. Personally, I’ve had it up to here with these young adult science fiction adaptations. The plots are so unbelievably predictable and saccharine. But the idiotic plot is only the tip of this particular cinematically disastrous iceberg.
The story picks up 20 years after aliens invaded Earth and blew up the White House before being blown up in return by Dennis Quaid’s brother. Here’s where things get strange. For some inexplicable reason, Jeff Goldbomb (one of the stars of the original 1996 turd-fest) is back, but he’s playing a totally different character. This time around he’s playing—get this—Will Smith’s son! That doesn’t make sense for sooooooooo many reasons, not the least of which being that Goldbomb is at least 20 years older than Smith. Supposedly, Smith’s character from the original (also named Will Smith, which is ridiculously confusing) died giving birth to Goldbomb. Turns out that Smith (the character) eventually contracted emphysema, thanks to a lifetime of smoking celebratory cigars, and died not long after being knocked up by Vivica J. Fox (real-life wife of Michael J. Fox), causing Goldbomb to be born posthumously. I guess in Emmerich’s world, not only can men get pregnant, but they can then give birth to 62-year-old men. Maybe it’s just me, but this storyline seems implausible.
There are just so many things wrong with this film. Let’s talk about pacing for a moment. In one scene, we are treated to a majestic, eye-popping chase between the aliens and U. S Navy fighter pilots. They weave in and out of the peaks and valleys of the Grand Canyon. It’s really quite spectacular. Then, in the very next scene, we watch as Goldbomb eats an entire DiGiorno pizza (product placement alert). But, as if that weren’t boring enough, we then have to watch him sit on the toilet and—violently—evacuate his bowels as he casually reads an article in Rolling Stone (product placement alert). This is one of the most disgusting and unnecessary sequences I have ever witnessed in a movie. But, to be fair, the scene, gross as it may be, does pay off in the film’s final act, when Goldbomb sets a trap for a high-ranking alien, a trap that includes a DiGiorno pizza, a copy of Rolling Stone, and a toilet.
All in all Independence Day: Resurgence is a mixed bag. On the one hand there is a great performance from Goldbomb. On the other hand, the screenplay by Carrot Top and the late Lorne Green makes little if any sense. And why the hell is the score composed by Verne Troyer? I don’t think he knows how to play an instrument or read music. At least, I hope he doesn’t. That would at least explain why kazoos, slide whistles, and whoopee cushions feature so prominently in the score.
This movie stinks like an outhouse on Free Taco Tuesday. Nothing makes sense, the special effects are lackluster, and the font used in the end credits is uninspired. Dante was right: Abandon all hope ye who enter a theater for Independence Day 2, American cinema’s latest interpretation of hell.
Rating: 3.8 out of 4
(Independence Day: Resurgence is rated PG-13 for adult language, mild sci-fi violence, graphic depiction of dookie, and overzealous use of the word “pubes.”)