When the great heat wave hit, I sought refuge in an air-conditioned movie theater. I perused the listings to find the film that would best be illuminated by my critical acumen. The choice was obvious: Species.
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You could perform the same academic exercise by screening Donaldson’s new film back-to-back with the original Alien. In Species scientists combine extraterrestrial DNA with human DNA and create a friendly humanitarian with magical powers and an insatiable desire to do good. Just kidding. They accidentally create something much more predictable: a deadly monster with an infinite capacity for evil. The male “scientists” are played by some of our best actors: Ben Kingsley, Forest Whitaker, Michael Madsen, and Alfred Molina. The female monster is played by the equally talented Judy Davis. Just kidding. Actually the monster (Natasha Henstridge) looks like a supermodel and acts like she’s on a runway. Species is so bad that I couldn’t even wait for her to mate. Instead I decided to sneak into an adjoining theater.
To entertain us before the movie began–who knows what might happen if a roomful of Americans are left unstimulated?–theater number 14 was flashing yearbook pictures of famous stars on the screen. The guy in front of me correctly identified Andie McDowell and won 12 jujubes from his buddy. To my disappointment, there was no Fruitopia commercial (they always bring me back to prenatal memories of the halcyon 60s). But a seductive image of hot, buttered popcorn got me to salivate on cue. Then the lights went up and an usher attempted to get donations for a charitable organization. He held his cup in front of my face as the entire theater audience turned to me, and he pointedly asked, “Anybody else care to make a donation?” I pretended to look at the blank movie screen with tremendous interest.
