““With endless options for renewal!” bellows District Manager Zete, as he delivers the unpleasant news to John Travolta’s character, Terl that his “long overdue transfer” will not be taking place and instead he will remain “on this disgusting excuse for a planet” otherwise known as Earth in the year 3000. Zete’s taunt is echoed three times then followed by his embellished cackle. This scene is only one of the numerous gaudy stylistic choices that would confirm Battlefield Earth: A Saga of the Year 3000 as a camp classic. Paired with Tommy Wiseau’s The Room, the two films make an ideal camp double feature for the early new millennium, though both films can be seen to represent opposite sides of the camp coin. The Room is the indie passion project of the amateur and in-over-his-head Wiseau. On the other hand, Battlefield Earth, produced by and starring John Travolta, is the studio blockbuster that misfired on all accounts. Yet for all their supposed awfulness, these films continue to beckon us. Is it because they act as cinematic freak shows in which we can laugh at their deformities? Or is it because if we revisit a film like Battlefield Earth we could potentially rediscover a misunderstood masterpiece, like so many other classic films before? Simply put, no, Battlefield Earth is a poorly executed film in its entirety, from production, acting, writing, direction, and so forth. Yet in a critical reanalysis of the film, two intriguing observations can be made. First, even though unintentional, the film offers a surprisingly adept observation of the political and social landscape of America at the onset of the new millennium. Secondly, a critical reassessment of the film demonstrates pertinent observations for the current stifling environment of the modern-day Hollywood blockbuster.
In 1977, French post-structuralist critic Roland Barthes published his seminal essay “From Work to Text” revolutionizing literary and cultural studies. In this essay, Barthes purports a new way of undergoing critique by describing the “work” and the “text” and pushing the paradigm that pieces of literature should be viewed in terms of the latter opposed to the former. To further explain, the industrial revolution allowed for the mass production of literature and art thus providing greater accessibility of both to the general population across economic and social classes. This greater accessibility, in essence, demystified the sanctity of art and literature and allowed for the possibility of interpretation through various ideological lenses.
An example of this development can be found in the historical production of the Bible. During the Medieval period, Bibles were usually constructed in a very arduous process by monks throughout Europe, thus leading to few but very ornate copies. Considering as well the very low literacy rate during the period, the stories of the Bible could only be disseminated by educated Church officials, usually during Mass in highly decorated Cathedrals. These cultural conditions positioned the Bible as a “sacred work” to be revered, as were most other pieces of literature and artwork during the Medieval period. But the invention of Gutenberg’s printing press spurred the wider dissemination of the Bible and lead to an increased readership. This development ultimately lead to varied interpretations of the Bible and resulted in the historically violent period in Europe known as the Protestant revolution, where people such as Martin Luther challenged the Catholic Church’s interpretation of the Bible with their own.
So what do either a French intellectual or the Protestant Revolution have to do with the blockbuster failure that was Battlefield Earth? Barthes’ argument for a more open view of literature not only allows for a richer form of literary critique but also enriches literature itself. When Battlefield Earth is viewed solely as a “work” it is irrefutably a bad film and in fact one of the worst ever made. The overuse of Dutch angles, side swooshes, cheesy dialogue, garish execution, and it’s overall aesthetic all stand as testaments to its awfulness. Yet Barthes’ concept of the “text” allows us to look beyond these obvious awful stylistic choices, to make more keen observations towards the film and its culture.
While Barthes positions the text as an aspect of modernity he explicitly notes that the distinction between it and the work is not tied to historical periods. The distinction is more a metaphysical one or a mindset in going about interpretation. For Barthes, the work is simply the literal book residing on bookshelves. The text, on the other hand, is a “methodological field”; it exists not merely in the words on the page but rather in the very language spoken and through the act of literary analysis. This act of literary analysis can encompass various ideological critiques such as psychoanalysis, Marxism, feminism, cultural studies, post-structuralism, and numerous others. Barthes notes that this ability to associate the text through various ideologies leads to a paradoxical nature. Just as the text cannot be designated into specific historical periods, it too cannot be labeled simply “good” or “bad” or positioned in the confines of any specific genre or singular ideological critique. The text in Barthes’ words is “irreducible”, an “explosion of dissemination”. Ultimately this approach leads to the modernist quality of intertextuality, where the text creates a cultural tapestry via interconnecting, signifying, and representing various aspects of culture, society, ideologies, and even the reader themself.
So how does Battlefield Earth demonstrate this quality of intertextuality with its larger culture landscape? While not intentional the film uncannily runs parallel with the American political and societal environment of the early millennium. The film tells the story of a supposedly advanced technological race, The Psychlos, that seek to exploit the valuable resources, specifically gold from Planet Earth, which is inhabited by the supposedly inferior “man-animals” who had a once rich and prosperous culture a millennia ago. Is this not a perfect analogy for the Western imperialism of third world countries throughout the previous centuries and specifically the interest of the United States in the Middle East over the resource of petroleum? Furthermore, in the film, this supposedly superior race is lead by Terl (played by scenery eating John Travolta) and his sidekick played by Forest Whitaker and throughout the film, Terl positions himself as an arrogant leader even though time and time again he is shown as misguided and comically incompetent. The bungling nature of the Psychlos leadership bears similarity to the numerous gaffes and mistakes made by the U.S. president George W. Bush and his administration that routinely became bits for comedians on SNL, The Daily Show, and The Colbert Report. The film does not only contain similarities to the Bush administration alone but to the entirety of U.S. foreign policy. Most notable is Terl’s scheme of educating Jonnie in order to use him as an asset in obtaining the gold, which is reminiscent of the CIA’s training of the Mujahedeen fighters against the Soviets in the 80’s, including Osama bin Laden, the mastermind behind Al-Qaeda September 11th attacks.
Consider that after Jonnie receives this education, the film depicts him being inspired by reading the Declaration of Independence. While the scene is played straight, it’s almost a perfect lampoon of the overt American Exceptionalism that has run rampant in American society since the end of the Cold War and reached its zenith during the Bush administration. And once again, Johnnie’s invigoration for his cause after reading the ancient Declaration of Independence is an adept allegory for terrorist that were inspired by radical sects of Islam. Ultimately Johnnie’s arc includes him being trained by the Psychlos, then radicalized by an ancient text, then leading an insurrection that culminates in blowing up the Psychlos headquarters at the end of the film. This sequence of events is an almost eerie parable for the funding of Islamic terrorist by America in the 80’s that ultimately lead to the tragic events of the September 11th terrorist attacks.
As mentioned previously, these similarities to the political and social atmosphere of the early millennium are merely coincidental. Likewise, the plot of the original Star Wars has been noted to have similarities to the September 11th terrorist attacks and since the director of Battlefield Earth was a part of the crew for that film it could have served as a possible influence. So beyond coincidental allegoricity, what else does critical reanalysis towards the film offer? Upon re-watching Battlefield Earth, there are several tepidly positive or at least enjoyable aspects to its excessive aesthetic. First, the pairing of Travolta and Whittaker is downright an enjoyable tandem to watch. Their banter, while cheesy, still elicits comedic potential and they do exhibit great onscreen chemistry. As well, putting aside the film’s execution, one cannot argue that it is a project short of ideas. Yes, most of these ideas are ridiculous and over the top, but it does put effort in portraying a lush cinematic universe, filled with the political bureaucracy of the Psychlos, the history of the invasion of earth, the destruction of human society, and the film’s overall Gigeresque design. Speaking of a cinematic universe, the film is arguably an early and very misguided attempt at building a sprawling and strange sci-fi action-adventure that would later be successfully accomplished by James Gunn’s Guardians of the Galaxy, a franchise within the context of the larger Marvel Cinematic Universe.
At this point, it is also important to mention the proverbial skeleton in the film’s closet, which is the fact the film is an adaptation of the titular novel written by L. Ron Hubbard, the controversial founder of the troubling religious organization Scientology. But it is important to clarify that the film demonstrates no overt allusions to Scientology. Consider, that the critically acclaimed horror film The Exorcist expresses several references to Christianity yet it is not regarded as a Christian film. In terms of Hubbard being a troubling figure, Barthes specifically states that for the text, the author bears no significant role or privilege in regards to interpretation, they are merely reduced to the role of a “guest”. Furthermore, one of the greatest minds of science fiction during the latter part of the 20th century, and a personal favorite, Phillip K. Dick, was addled with drug addiction, suffered from bouts of psychosis, and at one point even threatened his wife with murder. Nevertheless, Dick was the exceptionally creative mind behind the source material for films such as Blade Runner, Total Recall, A Scanner Darkly, and numerous other projects and there are no issues or controversies with these adaptations.
The mentioning of the MCU and the works of Phillip K. Dick in regards to the state of the modern blockbuster landscape are ultimately why critical reanalysis of a film like Battlefield Earth is more relevant than ever before. For better or worse the MCU has come to dominate modern Hollywood, with several studios attempting to recreate its efforts, all three of its films in 2019 grossing over a billion dollars, and specifically Avengers: Endgame (which grossed over two billion dollars) becoming the highest-grossing film of all time. Furthermore the studio’s conglomerate owner, Walt Disney, shows no sign of releasing its firm grip of control over our pop cultural landscape. The studio has absorbed the rights for various intellectual property, such as Stars Wars and 20th Century Fox, while simultaneously releasing shallow remakes of its own film including Dumbo, Aladdin, and the much-maligned The Lion King. As this pop-cultural hegemony grows, eerily similar to the Church’s control during the Middle Ages, the possibility of a Sci-Fi mind like Phillip K. Dick coming to prominence in film, seems virtually impossible at this cultural moment.
Ultimately there is no argument being made that Battlefield Earth was some misunderstood idea-driven blockbuster that should be retrospectively hailed as a creative masterpiece. It is a terrible film for all the obvious reasons already stated. The film’s level of awfulness remains, no matter how much critical or scholarly analysis is applied and frankly the point of critical analysis has never been to ‘save’ specific works of art or literature. First, simply put the film is fun piece of artwork for what that is worth. More importantly, by conducting a reanalysis of films such as these, this may lead us to consider a new way of assessing film and art, a way that would go against the current cutthroat world of artists and critics. Instead of categorizing films merely in simplistic terms of “good’ or “bad” works we should seek to analyze film as text in terms of their aesthetic accomplishments and what it may be speaking to in our culture whether intentional or not. This liberal attitude toward critical reception of film could possibly allow space for smaller, independent, and more creative yet not perfect films to flourish, which are desperately needed in our suffocated film landscape. Finally, to Terl’s horror, this different and new way of analysis is what may ultimately serve as the endless options of renewal for Battlefield Earth and its legacy.
