For Those Guys In the Basement . . . Still

The first films I remember being discussed as much for the special effects as for any other element are Steven Spielberg’s “Jaws� (1975) and George Lucas’ “Star Wars� (1977).

Both films were blockbusters. Both had incredible effects. And both had terrific stories.

   Alas, Louis Leterrier’s “Clash of the Titansâ€� has such a lousy screenplay that no amount of giant scorpions, slithering Medusas and comely maidens can save it.

   Perseus (Sam Worthington) is the illegitimate son of Zeus (Liam Neeson). Abandoned, he is raised by a fisherman. One fine day, some soldiers from Argon get the bright idea of knocking a giant statue of Zeus into the sea, and all Hades breaks loose.

   Without getting too caught up in the rosters of the various teams,  Perseus and some of the boys from Argon have to go find some witches in order to get to Hades where they can find Medusa and save everybody from a sea monster called the Kraken, which has enough tentacles to be referred to in the plural.

   The action sequences are dressed up with the usual computer jiggery-pokery, which has lost all novelty and is now just obnoxious. You can see it on the ScyFy Channel any evening, and on the big screen the effects aren’t better — just bigger.

   And louder. This is a movie that should come with earplugs. When something isn’t screeching, something else is being crushed, or a gritty warrior is roaring — all to the accompaniment of an insistent orchestra.

   In the Mt. Olympus scenes, Neeson gets the unhappy job of appearing in an outfit that’s a cross between the Imperial troopers in “Star Warsâ€� and the BeeGees, ca. 1978. Worthington’s Perseus has an Army haircut and a green tunic that’s cut a bit short. He looks like a deranged ballet dancer.

   Ralph Fiennes, as Hades, steals what there is of the show by moping around in his all-black god duds, his receding hairline, and general air of being a roadie for Spinal Tap.

   Actually, the best performances are from the giant scorpions, as played by the computer.

   We’ve got garbled mythology. Goddesses and princesses in outfits that are not nearly flimsy enough. Men in short tunics. Giant scorpion attacks. Medusa turning guys into stone. Djinns, looking like electric Pruneface monks. Enormous sea monster thing. Bug-eyed prophet. Video game kung fu. Gaseous bat critters. Gods in comical 1970s rock star costumes. Eight million names to keep straight.

   And, of course, the special effects.

   “Jawsâ€� was a Hitchcock film set on the sea. The actual screen time of the shark is pretty minimal; the terror is in the viewer’s imagination.

   “Star Warsâ€� was a Western, set in space, with good guys and bad guys, a love story and plenty of action. Sure, it was cool when the Death Star passed over the audience, and the light sabers were nifty, but everybody wanted to know what was going to happen next.

   In a perfect world,  “Clash of the Titansâ€� would serve as the Hollywood movie that killed the special effects-driven film.

   You may think this assessment harsh, but other critics have not been enthusiastic, either. In fact, the only unabashedly positive review I’ve found is from Linus J. Scrimshaw, writing in the Journal of Middle-Aged Men Who Still Live in Their Parents’ Basement.

   “Clash of the Titansâ€� is perfect if you are 13, or a clone of Comic Book Guy in “The Simpsons.â€�  Anyone else will find it dreary, disorganized and dull.

   “Clash of the Titansâ€� is rated PG-13 for violence, frightening images and brief sensuality. It is playing at The Moviehouse in Millerton, NY, and elsewhere.

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