When Waterworld was released during the summer of 1995, it was a
big bomb at the box office (although it did very well outside of the U.S. and on video). A
big budget action film with science fiction overtones, Waterworld was a very
costly production that helped to dull the shine on the star of then box office
champ Kevin Costner, who not only played the lead, but also produced (and word
had it that he also co-directed, as well--yet Kevin Reynolds retained sole
directing credit). Watching it again, over ten years after the hype and hysteria
have died down, I’ve found that, while Waterworld is far from being a masterpiece,
it still isn’t as horrible a movie as some of its detractors have made it out to be.
Hundreds of years from now, the polar ice caps will have melted, rising the
ocean levels to new heights and sinking the land masses that we know today below
the waves. Humanity will still survive, but just barely--sailing the endless
oceans in battered boats of all shapes and sizes, trading at scarce outposts
which jut precariously out of the water; all looking like the reverse of a
desert oasis, this time offering dryness in a landscape filled with water.
Costner plays the Mariner, a well-traveled sailor in a tricked-out, three-hulled
catamaran who’s smart enough to know how to dodge the Smokers. This era’s
version of the pirates of old, the Smokers drive gas-powered jet skis and other
motorized surface craft, which they use to attack anything they come across.
The Mariner pulls into an atoll community--a small fortress-like structure on
the surface of the water that serves as a mini-city for its inhabitants--where
he has come to stock up on supplies by trading that most valuable of
commodities: dirt. The stuff is like gold in a world where dry land is but a
myth, and the Mariner’s able to easily restock his boat. Yet when he turns down
an offer to impregnate a young woman that was made by her parents, the atoll’s
citizens become suspicious of him. Sure enough, when it’s discovered that the
Mariner has gills on the backs of his ears, he’s declared a mute-o, and
summarily imprisoned. But the Mariner, as well as the rest of the community,
have bigger problems when the Smokers converge on their floating settlement en
masse. It seems that the Deacon (Dennis Hopper), the leader of the Smokers, is
after a map that can lead the way to Dryland, and it’s tattooed on the back of
one of the atoll’s citizens: a little girl named Enola.
Dennis Hopper’s performance is really one of the best things about Waterworld.
He plays Deacon as a two-bit hustler who leads not by example, but by lying
through his teeth. He tells his hordes of Smokers whatever they want to hear
just to keep them happy and in-line. The rest of the performances are also
very good, including Costner as the Mariner, little Tina Majorino as Enola, and
Jeanne Tripplehorn as Helen, Enola’s friend and guardian (also, look for a
then-unknown Jack Black as the pilot of a Smoker airplane). The production is
very slick, and well-produced, yet a major problem is that the film doesn’t know
whether it wants to be an action film, or an all out comedy. Waterworld is
greatly weakened by the constant wavering between these two genres, as well as
the fact that it’s basically very derivative: it looks like Mad Max on the
water. The DVD, which has been around for almost as long as the format, has no
special features. Still, there are worse ways to kill two hours than this. If
you’re a fan of post-apocalyptic movies--and don’t mind hitting the surf--then
you may enjoy Waterworld.
--SF
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