In 2005, I said : “the hell with Tom Cruise being a jerk on TV,” I’m going to go see him in a movie about aliens. I don’t know why people got put off by that idea: the man devoutly believes in a religion that has aliens as a core part of the mythology — wouldn’t his take on aliens be more interesting?

(At this point, Emmett whispers to Greg. The words “Battlefield Earth,” “retarded” and “you” are heard prominently.)

Which brings us to the 2^nd in our series of reviews of Sci-Fi Channel’s Most Dangerous Night of Television: War of the Worlds 2: The Next Wave. Which as always, we will watch in the most dangerous way possible: drunk, with the windows open.

And we tried to do another liveblog.

But we hated it. We hated the liveblog, we hated this movie, we hated writing about this movie.

And not because it was terrible.

But because it wasn’t terrible enough.

When we watch a crappy Saturday night sci-fi movie, we want crap. We want every goofy idea someone can think of with a few thousand bucks they got from an: “We’ll Keep This on the ‘New Releases’ shelf at Blockbuster For the Next Four Years” deal.  Giant unconvincing snakes making Steven Baldwin feral/their human king? Of course. Aliens turning into snakes and fighting people at an abandoned mind/ghost town/apartment/car/jungle/school? The more the better, and put them in a sorority house on the moon.

But don’t give us something that doesn’t suck, but sure as hell isn’t good. Jesus, if we wanted that, we’d go to Lifetime, and do shots every time someone either sexually harassed someone else or had a heart-to-heart over ice cream with their ancient (but sassy!) mother.

Which brings us to do today’s movie, again.

We drank.

We watched the movie.

We kept drinking (somehow.)

We kept watching the movie (somehow.)

We kept up a liveblog… that was killed by either: a beer, a shot, stray vomit, perils of being a coaster, or angry urine. Not sure.

The point was, it was dispatched with extreme prejudice. Extreme “Why Are We Doing This?” Prejudice.

We didn’t want to write about this movie. We didn’t want to think about this movie…

So we decided to do both of those the only way we could…

As a revenge on the dude that made it.

C. Thomas Howell is someone you’ve seen in plenty of movies. He usually plays that guy you describe as: “Oh, Hey, Who’s That Guy I Don’t Know… No, Not That Guy, the One With the Sorta Beard?”

He’s not quite a heartthrob of the sci-fi movie set, and not quite an auteur, but he’s around. He’s a hearthrobauteur. (Awesome, awesome t-shirt. Someone do that.)

He directed and starred in War of the Worlds 2: The Next Wave, and sadly, with that title, did not make it a movie about alien tripods intent on destroying Earth that can only be stopped by a group of plucky hot teens beating the aliens in The Big Surfing Tournament at the end of the summer.

We really, really don’t want to write a review of this movie (perhaps we’ve mentioned that?)

So instead, here are some questions about the movie. You can print them out, and then, the next time you see C. Thomas Howell (perhaps at the “Grizzled Voiceover Store”) you can ask him these questions until one of you has to call security.

They vaguely follow the arc of the movie, so much as lines that squiggled, blurry, and stinky can be followed:

When your art direction was making the evil alien tripods, how did you get H.R. Giger to design them out of dog vomit? Did you pay extra, or was he simply up for the challenge?

Which of these derogatory names for the tripods is most appropriate:  “Turd Stilts,” “The Roaming Poop,” “Fish Thingies With Legs,” “Deadly CGI Hat” and “Mommy’s Worst Outfit.”(NOTE: the last one is booze, shouting loudly to make it’s presence known, while falling off the table, pants at it’s ankles.)

When you bought/paid/made/farted-together the “evaporate” effect of the tripod lasers on human beings, did you intend to make it laugh-out-loud funny? As a commentary on people’s natural fears (especially in these challenging times) of being evaporated while running through Los Angeles? If not, why not?

How did you get the money to make this thing?

You obviously meant for your character to care about his son, after having him say: “Where’s my son” at least a million times in 90 minutes of screen time. So… was having him power an entire goddamn house of appliances and a radio through riding a station bike a clever condemnation of the west’s restrictive child labor laws? An endorsement of exercise? Or did you really hate the child actor, like the rest of us?

Has anyone ever said the word “Beefaroni” as emotionally as you?

What’s the best way to describe the sheer grizzled-ness of your voiceover? Does: “more grizzled than a grizzly bear that lost all his money and his woman in an Atlantic City bar” work? ‘Cause that was the best we had.

When your character goes to the “military base” to meet all the military guys/woman in lab coat-presumably scientist what was the commentary of the “Admiral” character having a military coat with cut-off sleeves? Did global warming finally happen? Were the admirals’ sleeves working for the aliens in the original War of the Worlds? Were you unable to get Larry the Cable Guy, and simply said: “Screw it. If I can’t get him, I’ll just create a future where the entire military hierarchy will be based upon his fashion choices. Eat my ass, Larry.” (Which, depending on your point of view, is either: how the aliens kicked so much human ass, OR, why there are any humans left over whatsoever.)

When your son is evaporated, (after you have a scene where you, Kim Thayll’s stunt double, and some men who wear too much flannel to be trusted argue over gas, coupons, and inappropriate laughter), when your son is evaporated… why does your character feel compelled to cry and talk to his Dodge Truck?  Because, he cries, on the wheel, while making sure not to cover the Dodge logo. Then, he yells at the truck, as he drives away in it, but we don’t get any dialogue.  Is your character having an affair with the truck? That’s the obvious guess, since he’s living in a hole with his son and yet the truck has a factory polish. Did you want that relationship (male-truck-ism) to be so overt? And what does that say about the role of aliens/machines/kids/sex/trucks/you in society?

Okay, the above paragraph is sarcasm: please tell us you got money from Dodge for this. Speaking of which: how did you get the money for this?

Further along in your film, (after events too goofy to be conveyed in mixed, or any, company) your character encounters a “Lieutenant” from the military, very obviously played by “Kid” of Kid ‘n Play, who presumably goes by “Middle-Aged-Man’n Play” or something by now. This opens a whole slew of questions:

1. How did you find him?

2. What was he sleeping under?

3. What substance did you pay him in? (Is there any left for us?)

4. How hard to resist was the temptation to have him say: “This is whack”? And did you think you assuaged it with the line: “Tripods gakked their engine!”

How does it make you feel when someone watches your movie (like, say, Greg) and, after only twenty minutes of hard drinking and watching your movie, is compelled to say: “I really don’t think doing a shot out of your shoe would be SO bad.”

And how did you get the money for this?

ENDING:

We turned it off. After the ending. We might’ve seen the ending. You’ll never know.

RATING:

SCI-FI CHANNELNESS: 9/10. Some of the effects were too good, and I’ve actually heard of C. Thomas Howell and Kid.

NUMBER OF SHOTS NECESSARY TO ENJOY THIS: Fatal.

SNAKES: Go away. There were none. We have this whole joke “Snakes” rating and through two goddamn movies, we have none. This joke sucks. Luckily, Carny is up this Saturday, so we’ve got a shot.

MOMENTARY BLIP OF “AWESOME”: Greg’s line about doing shots out of shoes. Word to the wise – you have to do it quickly, before the booze sinks into the shoe. Also: clothespins on the nose. Wait, awesome on the movie? See: “We turned it off.”

COULD YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS MAKE THIS FOR FIFTY BUCKS: No. It was too good to be shitty enough for this. Play, maybe if you’re reading this, you could make it for fifty bucks.

WHAT WE LEARNED:

Oy.

Dodge Trucks.

Aliens = Bad.

If you want respect, tear off your shirt-sleeves.

And finally… it may seem like we’ve been a little harsh on this movie. But really, that’s because it escaped our clutches. It wasn’t horrible, it wasn’t epic it was merely bad. And that’s… a compliment.

Wow.