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By Robbie Graham
Battleship’s choppy seas may be confined to the cinema screen, but you’ll still need a sick bag.
There is a scene in Rob Reiner’s 1984 comedy masterpiece, This Is Spinal Tap, in which the members of the charmingly deluded heavy metal band are read a back catalogue of progressively terrible reviews for their albums to date. The final review as read to Spinal Tap by the rockumentary’s fictional director Marty Di Bergi (played by Reiner) is for their album Shark Sandwich and consists of just two words... “sh*t sandwich.”
With this in mind, a carefully considered review of Peter Berg’s latest directorial effort, Battleship, writes itself: “Battlesh*t.” Tempting though it is to leave it at that and to try to forget about the cinematic assault I recently endured, I must find it within me to mentally revisit this heinous movie-crime, not only in an attempt to cleanse my psyche of its foul stains, but also to take it to task for the vile propaganda it is. This might seem like disproportionately harsh language to be using in the context of what many will no doubt defend as a “harmless popcorn movie,” but the point is that, while Battleship may be popcorn fodder, its underlying purpose is to make cannon fodder of cinemagoers – quite literally. Battleship is an aggressively jingoistic, fear-mongering Pentagon-backed military recruitment campaign that revels in fetishising the hardware of war and shamelessly targets the most disillusioned of America’s youth..... continues at Silver Screen Saucers
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