Review: Armageddon (1998)

When ARMAGEDDON opened on July 1, my son and I visited the only cinema in our small city. We entered the largest auditorium, which was the original theater, circa 1930's. (Three much smaller screens were added recently to please the college crowd.)

For close to two hours we viewed the film, watching as NASA discovered they had 18 days to figure a way to save the planet; we followed the escapades of the world's best oil-drilling crew, led by Harry Stamper (Bruce Willis), as they hurriedly trained to drill 800 feet into the asteroid and plant a warhead. We arrived almost at the climax, both space shuttle crews coping with crises in outer space. Then the projector quit! Rather, the sound quit first, and we were treated to the amplified banter of the teenage staff until they realized the problem and killed the projector.

We were glad finally when the harried manager refunded our money; they had monkeyed around so much, restarting the film and failing for over half an hour, that the narrative had lost all continuity for us.

So when we tried again today in a multiplex in the county seat, we knew most of what we would see. And hear. First of all, ARMAGEDDON is very loud. Starting with the title sequence, the fiery pieces of "ARMAGEDDON" break up and rush toward the viewer with menacing racket. The explosions are deafening as well: but they occur in context, and count as a convincing part of very slick special effects. What I noticed during both viewing attempts was the bad science that happened each time large objects rushed through the vacuum of space.

They groaned and galumphed past each other like mad Jabberwocks, the space rock past the moon, the shuttles past the camera's eye -- whooshes engineered to inspire awe. NEWSWEEK ran a sidebar featuring the level of noise generated by the launch -- 3 decibels higher than the roar of Godzilla. The space whooshes were just as obnoxious. (I should add here that one of the funnier comic relief bits, one of the few not supplied by Steve Buscemi's character Rockhound, features a white bulldog attacking a street merchant's display of Godzilla toys.)

Then there is the trite characterization. Having already met most of the deep-sea drillers when Harry chases A. J. Frost (Ben Affleck) around after finding him with daughter Grace (Liv Tyler), we are subjected to countless scenes in which each crew member's eccentricities are further highlighted. Moreover, we must sit through almost remedial explanations of space protocol, including Dan Truman's (Billy Bob Thornton) spelling out of the exact mission. Apparently director Michael Bay and the multiple writers forgot that APOLLO 13 educated movie-goers about sling-shotting around the moon, as well as about the particulars of gravity.

The acting does not draw as many complaints. Bruce Willis plays a very likable drilling expert, a leader well-liked by his crew. His timing seems especially good during the action sequences. Only toward the end, when Stamper has no less than two tear-jerking scenes that rival the sentimental schlock of Forrest Gump's talking to Jenny's gravestone, is the acting over the top. And that is the script's fault. Rock-faced Billy Bob Thornton smiles only a few times, but manages a solid and sympathetic performance. Liv Tyler, the only female aside from a token, beautiful astronaut, acts well off Harry and off her love interest, A. J., her wide lips alternately pouting and puckering. William Fichtner plays Colonel Willie Sharp, the shuttle pilot charged with ensuring the success of the mission, with expert coldness; he's the closest to a human villain, though he reminded me of the psychotic SEAL in THE ABYSS.

Other strong points are editing and cinematography. From sweeps around the NASA conference room to quick close-ups, from split-second backgrounds (that was Michael Bay in one, no?) to the simulated, striking aerial view of the double launch, the camera work tells the story with stylistic, often frenetic motion. Once again, though, the script intrudes: the result, well-shot but terribly clichéd montages, many showing Bay's vision of a type of classic America, people listening to news of the coming catastrophe, gathered in a Mayberry-like barber shop or sitting in vintage pickups, near American flags and farmhouses. In one shot a group of boys even runs past a clapboard store sporting a faded campaign mural of JFK! I got the notion I was back in the first days of the old theater, and could walk out into the slightly fuzzy, pure American air (that did not exist even then!).

I enjoyed the ending more than I thought I would, after seeing the
beginning and middle twice. ARMAGEDDON is just above average as summer entertainment, but I would advise finding a theatre that is neither too cold nor too loud, and that owns a projector with a fully functioning platter system.