It seems as if the steampunk genre is destined to be plundered and mistreated by the Hollywood cretins out there until it withers and dies from malnutrition. Wild Wild West, Van Helsing, League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and Steamboy were all released within the same decade, and all received with comments ranging from “meh” to “DID THE CAT JUST DIE IN HERE? WHAT STINKS?” This is all sad to me. Justin sad. Justin loves steampunk. Justin thinks it’s just ducky.

I never had high hopes for LXG prior to seeing it with Pooly, but I did hold out a secret, fluttering wish that it would burst forth out of a cocoon of negative press and become a cult butterfly with mechano-wings pumped by hydraulic lifts. And in the viewing of it, I could see the shadowy outline of a genuinely good film, one which never saw its completion due to a million stupid decisions on the part of the filmmakers (nudged along by half-hearted acting).

The end result twisted Alan Moore’s graphic novel into something of a fascinating train wreck. It’s too ugly and misshapen to be loved, but fascinating enough in its blunders to be mocked with affection. Thus did I revisit the realm of alternate Victorian history, where literary figures dwell in the flesh and idiots with flamethrowers wear cast-iron suits.

TRUE STORY: Before watching the film on the DVD, I clicked one of the special features that said “An Important Message” or some such. I thought they were going to wheel out the director and force him, at gunpoint, to apologize for the film, but it turned out to be a “marijuana kills” message. A little out of place, but okay. You think, considering the movie’s setting, they’d have done an “opium kills” PSA.

Although it’s hard to see, I thought that one of the neatest touches of LXG is when the 20th Century Fox logo dissolves into its steampunk counterpart (although they would’ve scored more points in my book if they went to 19th Century Fox instead). 0:24

As we descend through the rooftops and pipes of London, the introductory text tells us that it’s 1899 and the world is all a-jittery. Down on the streets, a number of constables (cops, to you and me) are running willy-nilly and blowing whistles. It’s incredibly dark and difficult to make out (a continuing theme), however.

Aaand that’s when a circa-World War I tank smashes its way through the gate onto the scene. LXG didn’t just stick with the usual steampunk trappings, I notice, but also went forward in time to take various technologies from a couple decades in the future and yank them back in time. The bobbies seem a bit puzzled as to what the tank is, and one humorously shouts “Halt! Halt!” until he gets run over. Squish. The other bobbies attack the steel monster with their night sticks, which is and always will be an effective anti-tank deterrent. 2:15

Mr. Tank, finally let out on a night on the town and half-drunk already, crushes its way into the Bank of England. Desks, bookshelves and several important ledgers are no longer in prime shape. This would be a terrific scene, again, if I could just see it. A turret pops out, the vault door is history, and soldiers burst out of the tank carrying the bulkiest submachine guns you’ll ever see. This is LXG’s motto: take something modern, make it “chunky,” and we can use it in 1899! An unseen figure carrying a skull-capped cane comes out, orders all witnesses to be put to death (off screen), and steals some schematics.

Quickly, a copy of the London Post zooms into view and we get the headline “BRITAIN ACCUSES GERMAN ARMY OF BANK THEFT”. Although there weren’t any witnesses left alive, the tank is depicting in the newspaper with meticulous detail — including the gun turret out (again, no one alive saw it in this mode). My favorite headline is “NOT US!” SAYS GERMANY, which reinforces the notion that international diplomacy could simply be solved if mom and dad would get involved. I think a better headline rebuttal might’ve been “HOW THE BLAZES COULD WE HAVE GOTTEN A TANK ACROSS THE ENGLISH CHANNEL WITH NO ONE NOTICING?” 3:55

Berlin, May 1899. More confusing, hurried action. Guys with guns (soldiers?) hustle off guys in white coats (scientists), while Skull Cane looks on. Obviously, if they’re not going to show this guy’s face, you just know he’s going to be revealed as a villain-in-good-guy’s-clothing later on. A scientist asks, “What do you want?”, and Skull Cane flips through his Stock Villain Reply Handbook to select, “The WORLD, Patrick. THE WORLD!” And because you can’t say stuff like that without a dramatic gesture, Skull Cane takes a rocket launcher and blows away five hydrogen zeppelins that are casually floating nearby.

More newspaper headlines, this time Germany accusing Britain of attacks and coming over to their side of the car. Mom shouts that this is “really it”, and Dad is ready to “turn the car around and go on home.” Oh no! Europe is on the brink of war! Perhaps, even, a great war, a world war! One so great, they’ll have to have a sequel or something! 5:08

Which brings us, of course, to Kenya, June 1899. The remainder of the titles flash by, including the one telling us that this is based on Alan Moore’s graphic novel. Now, I didn’t read the novels, I don’t care to, and I don’t care if you find this viewing flawed because of it. My thick skin is on today. It looks like the Old West, African style, as a stranger wanders into a frontier town. Mr. Derby Hat swaggers into a saloon and asks for “Quartermain.” Now, thick skin is on, remember? So you literary freaks can just give it a rest with shrieking, “It’s pronounced QUATERMAIN, not QUARTERMAIN!” It’s not my mistake — about half of the characters in this movie add the extra R. Also, Quatermain’s name gets weirder the longer you look at it.

Derby Hat goes up to someone who is most certainly not Sean Connery (but sports some truly wicked sideburns) and makes the assumption that this is QuaRtermain. Doesn’t he look the horse’s patootie, now. The real Q sits off to the side, obviously enjoying the ruse. After this incredible deception is revealed, Derby Hat starts again with “The Empire is in peril!” I don’t think anyone, anywhere, ever talked like this. Although my brain is certainly in peril. He’s being approached to be the leader of a new team of Extraordinary men to combat vague forces of darkness… call them the X-Men or something. Derby Hat is upset that Q isn’t leaping like an excited little puppy now that his master, the Empire, has come home. Q sits in the murky shadows of this movie and verbally rips Derby Hat a new one, with a melancholy explanation why he won’t go (“I’ve lost friends, both white and black,” he says with a racial non-sequitur). I could listen to that accent forever.

To save us from endless clichés, a group of trenchcoat cowboys enter and start shooting up the place. First to go is Q’s imposter double, who is then scalped for his magnificent facial hair. Q’s shots bounce off the body armor covering the chests, and chests only, of the cowboys. Headshots are for pansies. Derby Hat pees himself: “They’re INDESTRUCTABLE!” The submachine guns are busted out, much to Q’s dismay. “Automatic rifles? Why’d it have to be automatic rifles?” A dig is made at Belgians’ expense. We then slide into LXG’s idea of a fight scene, which is to say epileptic seizure mode. The camera rapidly cuts between shots at the rate of every 0.12 seconds, leaving flashing lights and Scottish ruggedness imprinted upon your retina while you try to fight vertigo. Sean Connery’s stunt double picks up a table and smashes it on a guy’s head (c’mon… you can’t be in a saloon fight and NOT do that, now can you?).

A brief mention of Sean Connery’s age. I’m by no means an ageist, and while I know that there are many 70-year-old men out there who are probably in much better physical condition than yours truly, Connery at 73 looks like he’d be much better off reclining with a heated massage pad than slamming ruffians around in a bar. If LXG had any sense of dignity, it would’ve made his character more of a hands-off mentor, wise and instructing, instead of a brawling senior citizen. It just looks flippin’ ridiculous, and the amount of editing this film has to do to cover up the fact that Connery can’t stand under his own power for more than three minutes is astounding.

So while we were talking about that, Q defeats most of the baddies, including impaling the last one on a rhino horn (!) while the British flag comes down over his head. Q says “Rule Britannia” while we look for something to throw. Ugh. Q then leaves the bar, puts on his glasses and shoots the last fleeing cowboy at 900 yards. Oh, and he just wounds the guy on purpose. I think, due to the curvature of the earth, that was impossible. The cowboy evades questioning by biting down on some poison. Stupidity reigns supreme in Kenya. Then horribly, horribly bad CGI explodes at the saloon (because the cowboys left a ticking bomb there) and Q looks largely unconcerned at the immolation of his drinking buddies. Derby Hat says the word “war” about once per 20 seconds during all of this. Q agrees to go, and all of us know that Derby Hat probably planted the bomb himself.

Before he leaves, Q looks at a gravestone of a loved one (Wife? Son? Second cousin twice removed?), which is misspelled “Quartermain.” Way to catch that on the cutting room floor, gentlemen. 12:57

London, July 1899. Man, we’re just zipping through the months, aren’t we? It’s raining and gloomy, and Q leaves his carriage to make another non-sequitur about Jules Vern’s Around the World in 80 Days, which had nothing to do with anything. He walks into a dark building, through a dark corridor, down dark stairs, into a dark library and my eyes just flat out quit on me. TURN ON THE BLOODY LIGHTS. Hurrah, they do. Q meets “M”, who welcomes him to the newest generation of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, which entitles him to a parking space and all-you-can-drink visits to the espresso bar. Captain Nemo strolls in the room, because, why not? He’s got a darling handlebar moustache.

One of my original big quibbles with this movie is that after Quatermain’s introduction, the rest of the League is just thrown into the script with no proper backstory or scene to build up some appropriate hero worship in the audience. The meeting room scene inspires about the same level of awe as watching a bunch of hungover managers stumbling into a boardroom on Monday morning. “Hi, I’m [name of literary character], my special power is [driving a boat, being invisible, biting people on the neck] and my costume is FABULOUS, baby!”

If you care to pause and are up to date on literary characters, you might want to check out some of the paintings of the previous leagues in this room. Included are Robin Hood, Ivanhoe, the Four Musketeers and the Scarlet Pimpernel, among others.

The briefing begins, and Skull Cane gets a name, Fantom. Fantom’s been kidnapping scientists, forcing them to make cool weapons, and basically escalating an arms race. So, having just wasted an entire month to get from Kenya to England, Q receives his task: to stop Fantom in a mere four days in Venice. Since the film has covered four months in fifteen minutes, I can’t see this happening without… I don’t know… a superfast submarine capable of laughing in the face of anything logical. What are the odds?

Now we meet the Invisible Man, who is given the completely lackluster introduction of talking out of nowhere and — prepare to be amazed past your wildest dreams — carrying a stack of papers that he plops down in front of Q. Q is nonplussed, whining about this being a “parlor game” and some such. InvisMan makes himself noticeable, at least, by donning a trenchcoat and some white face paint (giving the film its due: these effects are nifty to watch).

The scene plods on. Mina Harker (“Vampire Lady” to the less-educated among us) barges in with widow’s veil and snappy comebacks included. Q, all riled up over invisible papers and fancy moustaches, gives her a hard time: “I’m still waiting to be impressed!” Dude, she just got here! What’s with the attitude? Oh, I get it: repressed sexual tension. Ew. 19:27

The clock ticking on that ominous four-day deadline, M declares they need to get going! To Venice? Nay! To recruit two more idiots… er, Leaguers, because you can’t save the world until you’ve formed a quorum. The troop stomps out into the daylight, which appears to be fading as the planet shifts its course far away from the sun. They’re all surprised to see Nemo’s “auto-mo-bile”, a gigantic white phallic symbol taken straight from the 1920s. Also, with two axels in the front, which makes me really wonder how the car turns. Hey, you don’t need turnin’ when you have the world’s only auto-mo-bile! “Yeah, but what is it?” InvisMan rightly asks. Instead of giving a straight answer, Nemo does that infuriating dramatic gesture that only serves to sound ominous and be redundant: “The future, gentlemen. The future.” So Captain Nemo founded Ford Motor Company?

They meet Nemo’s first mate (“Call me Ishmael”) and the car zooms away, headlights and all. Six horses die along the way. In the car, the Leaguers have a conversation that boggles us with sentences that have nothing to do with each other:

INVISMAN: So. How did M get you?

Q: None of your business.

MINA: You’re a little testy, Mr. Q.

Q: Mrs. Harker, I doubt if you measure danger the way I do.

MINA: And I imagine you have quite the library, Mr. Quartermain. All those books you must’ve read merely by looking at their covers.

Q: I’ve had women along on past exploits, and found them to be, at best, a distraction.

MINA: Do I distract you?

[sound of Justin’s mind whimpering and trying to make sense out of happy color snake rainbow milkshake explosions]

Q reveals that he’s buried two wives and many lovers, and sounds quite proud of this fact. Um, so were they alive at the time? “Honey, you’re a distraction to my exploit! Into the hole you go!” 20:45

It’s nighttime, but what does that really matter to this film? East London Docks, according to the title card. InvisMan name-drops Jack the Ripper. They knock at the door and meet Dorian Gray, who’s reluctant to go until Mina turns on the charm. They go up the stairs and Q points out the obvious missing picture on the wall. Why is it obvious? Because in movie-ese, whenever a filmmaker wants you to notice that a picture is gone, they outline the missing frame in black soot. Dorian gets grumpy at the mention, but since this picture is the only thing that can end him if he looks at it, why would he want it there anyway?

They enter Dorian’s library and there’s a lot of preening and plumage-boasting to spare. Nobody really like anyone else, Dorian flirts with Mina while stroking his cane, and Mina looks as if she’s two seconds from dislocating her jaw and swallowing them all whole. We then learn, out of nowhere, that Q is supposedly indestructible because an African witch doctor blessed him, and Africa itself would never allow him to die. You must remember this conversation, because when a certain moment comes later in the film, it’s the only thing that will save you from one long, endless scream. Nemo asks Dorian what his unique talent is, to put on the LXG trading cards. I wagered it was looking like a nancy-boy, but Dorian cuts us all down with a withering “Experience.” Oh. Showed you guys.

After a half hour of agonizing waiting behind bookcases, minions are relieved to finally be able to jump out and yell “SURPRISE!” and see Q pee his khakis. Fantom shows up and tries to get the good guys to defect to the side of Evil and Fashion. I think I would’ve given most of my worldly possessions to see this happen: “Oh… you know what? Sure. M’s a tool. Go Team Evil!”

As Fantom goes on a stilted rant for the cause of evil, Q — and only Q — sees a mysterious figure step out from behind the only remaining bookshelf. These bookshelves are the BEST in hide-and-go seek. The person is wearing a metal pith helmet and a scarf around the mouth, which either signifies “I have a communicable disease” or “I’m a great hero who needs some sort of dramatic reveal later on.” He levels the rifle at the good guys (sort of) and gives Q a wink. Q winks back and gives a tiny little kissing gesture in return. Not really.

Okay, big fight scene. I’m not going to describe it all, because trying to detail a fight in LXG is like trying to calmly analyze a headache when all you can feel are the gnomes inside your skull trying to tunnel out using rock hammers. The editing’s a mess and the logic choppy as all get out. However, some important things of note:

• InvisMan manages, under a storm of bullets, to completely disrobe and wash the makeup completely from his face.
• Pith Helmet takes out about ten bad guys with his rifle.
• Dorian calmly takes up a sword, is plugged by dozens of bullets, and calmly walks up to kill his attackers without flinching.
• Bad guys always spin around with a surprised “Hur!” when shot.
• There’s a never-ending rain of paper coming from nowhere in particular. It’s seriously the most ridiculous part of the scene, like someone upstairs is shredding dictionaries and dumping through the skylight.
• Nemo goes all kung-fu on baddies and isn’t even fired upon.
• One of the bad guys stops Q from chasing Fantom by jumping in front of him, and then tossing off a “Run for it, James!” over his shoulder. James? Ah. That’s a “clue” for “later.”
• Mina does NOTHING. She loses at heroism.

All in all, it’s not the worst scene in the film, but there’s more spastic cuts here than Michael Bay could shake an editing stick at. 28:46

We now move to the post-battle wrap-up, where everyone’s mildly amazed at Dorian’s invincibility, where Mina is mildly chastised for being as useful as a bookmark in a room full of shredded books, and where a remaining bad guy pops up from under a tea cozy to take Mina hostage with a knife. Oh, this is the point when Mina does something! And that something is: She bites him. Vampires — the horror genre’s mosquitoes. A stage hand hurriedly runs up and smears tomato soup all over her mouth. Yummy. Then, as the grossed-out Leaguers watch, she dives back in for seconds and comes up with a completely clean mouth and a bit of lip-smacking happiness.

Since that piece of character development is sucked dry, it’s on to meeting the mysterious man of mystery: Special Agent Tom Sawyer! It’s common knowledge that Mr. Sawyer wasn’t present in Alan Moore’s graphic novel, and the reported reason he was included was to make the American audiences feel more involved. Personally, and I don’t know about you, but this is condescending on so many levels. Would any of us be truly lost if we didn’t have an American up there to identify with? Did the filmmakers envision a pandemic of theater audiences flapping their arms and clucking their tongues at the British accents and literary references? And also… why Tom Sawyer? He isn’t a kid any more, he doesn’t whitewash anything (and InvisMan would be first up if he did), and he’s the second most useless character in this room. Take a guess as to the first.

Being the generous government that the USA is, they sent Sawyer to help out and to also to get him away from Becky Thatcher, who filed for a court restraining order the month previous. Sawyer joins the League, and Dorian is shamed enough to come along too, while awkwardly hitting on Mina. Reoccurring Theme: Anyone male in LXG hits on Mina. Only God knows why. Although he’s been spitting venom at anyone approaching him in the past ten scenes, Q takes a liking to Sawyer immediately.

Time is ticking, remember! Now that they filled up the League, plus one, they’re off to Ven- oh wait, Paris! Why? Gotta recruit one more, apparently. Hey, you just said… you just said you were full! Well, it makes sense. Then they’ll have enough to combine for a mega-power-attack and form the ultimate super-Leaguer: Book Reportobot! They talk about hunting down this “beast”, and make a completely awkward segue to asking Mina about her vampirism (cue boring Dracula story). Finally Nemo pulls out his latest form of transportation: a public bus that explodes if the speed dips below 55mph!

Just kidding. It’s the Nautilus, which puts Nemo’s phallic car to shame. This thing is honestly bigger than the Titanic, if the scale of the movie has anything to say about it. Massive, impressive, and completely illogical in every way possible. For instance, this thing must be at least seven or eight stories tall, and rises out of the river Thames (since this is London). Let’s just hope it’s at high tide, otherwise Nemo might be beached for a while – on average in London, the Thames is only about 2 meters deep. Let’s also just ignore the fact that the Nautilus is about five city blocks long, which does present some turn-around problems. Wait until we get to Venice! 33:08

It’s Paris. Trust me — the Eiffel Tower is in pretty much every shot. Sawyer and Q. are darting through the streets, chasing a rooftop-bound Mr. Hyde (who’s fresh from his appearance in Van Helsing). “I don’t see what we need a big monkey for,” Sawyer whines. Fair enough, Tom, nobody seems to know what we need you for either. I love that Hyde’s top hat stays on the entire time, leaping and dashing. Q (with his elephant gun) and Sawyer (with two six-shooters) try to guide Hyde into a trap. Q almost gets smooshed by a piece of building, and quips “That was naughty!” Judges score “funny” on this quote. Finally Hyde is shot into a net that traps him and drags him about six city blocks (seriously), straight into the Nautilus, which nimbly navigates yet another river inlet. Sawyer picks up Hyde’s giant hat, causing us to speculate how a monster gets clothes tailored to fit. 35:03

Inside the sub, Hyde’s apparently causing the walls to shake, Mina’s doing her best Sean Connery impression (which isn’t that good), and Dorian is tweezing his eyebrows. You read that right. Tweezing. Everyone makes their way down to the freezer, where Hyde’s in chains and going through caffeine withdrawal. I’m of a mixed mind as to the look of Hyde, who seems to have normal human features waist-down, and grossly huge stuff upstairs. He also looks like a very fat version of Biff Tannen from Back to the Future. All of the sailors courteously get close enough so they can get swatted through the air. Nemo has – of course – a harpoon. Q strikes up a deal with Hyde for amnesty, who responds with a quite eloquent little speech. “I’m yours,” Hyde agrees, and Mina quirks her mouth and does a little happy “hm!” at the thought. Anyone else thinking of the song “Maneater”? Hyde tells Sawyer he “stinks of fear”; I concur, just eliminate the last two words from that phrase. Hyde then transforms back into Jekyll, in a pretty cool fashion (at least I’m glad they didn’t resort to the clichéd computer morphing). Q announces “The League is set,” and everyone smiles and nods knowingly, even though they all hate each other’s guts, and nobody has a really good reason for being here, other than wanting to get with Mina. They have three days to get to Venice. 38:46

A nifty shot of the Nautilus doing about 200 knots through the ocean — powered, no doubt, by the director’s self esteem. Mina is on the deck, contemplating life and puppy dogs and why vampires are now apparently in love with sunlight. Q and Sawyer push in a little mentor-protégée time. Q: “She’s out of your league.” This is true, as Sawyer lacks many qualities that Mina desires, such as being able to sleep upside down and to use sonar to track insects for his next meal. Nevertheless, Sawyer approaches her as the audience cringes for the inevitable shutdown. He offers to assist her with… whatever… on this voyage, and Mina asks what kind of assistance he means. SEX, okay, Mina? S-E-X. Don’t be dense. “You’re sweet and you’re young. Neither are traits that I hold in high regard,” she says in the most condescending way possible. So, she wants something sour and old? Sawyer, my friend, count yourself blessed.

Nemo informs them that the solar panels are fully charged, and the sub is ready to dive. Excuse me? Solar what? What submarine today is powered by solar electricity? I mean, ones that weren’t part of a ’60s LSD-induced hallucination? And where were these mythological solar panels in any of the Nautilus establishing shots?

Therefore, because they have no real reason to, except that they have a sub and might as well use it, they submerge. 40:51

Nemo reveals that Fantom stole Da Vinci’s blueprints of Venice, but happily for the League, he’s got some spare photocopies lying around. Made with solar power, no doubt. Then we flash to a completely ridiculous scene where Q is studying in his quarters, then turns out the lights and grapples with InvisMan. Using all the powers of acting and British knighthood, Connery crooks his arm and pretends as if he’s throwing an invisible man out of the door, instead of looking like a drunk at 3 am. It’s best not to speculate why InvisMan was there and what he was doing completely naked. Nemo appears and has a walk-and-talk with Q, in which he reveals that he lives “in the now.” He’s deep. College freshman poetry class deep. Q reveals his Troubled Past, while trying to stay steady on his feet before collapsing in a fit of booze-induced slumber. The Nautilus is back on the surface again, as if you care. Guess amazing solar energy has its limits, after all. 43:03

Nemo finds black powder on the bridge and there’s a whole moment of agonizing suspicion and tension, which passes as we go outside to find Q skeet shooting. Yup. Skeet shooting buoys. Sawyer appears, trying to figure out Q’s motivation for going on this whole adventure. He’s behind the times, as all of the viewers have long since given up caring why anyone is there. Like Everest, motivations just are. After revealing that he had a son that died in his arms, Q gets all cheerful and wants to teach Sawyer how to shoot properly. Bonding moment! After a couple minutes of this, Q abruptly, and for no good reason, just up and leaves. Man of mystery, he is. 47:02

More thrills aboard the Love Ship Nautilus. Q spies on Nemo practicing sword drills in front of a large statue of Kali, goddess of death, and future enemy of Indiana Jones. Mina arrives to speculate on the trustworthiness of their dashing captain, which is a moot point since none of the League seems to trust or like or want to be in the same photograph as the others. Q: “He’s not the one I’m worried about.” Ooh! He’s suspicious of the double-X chromosome! Burn!

Back in her room, Mina – wearing the fattest, reddest tie in the world – is doing sciencey stuff with beakers and tubes on the powder Nemo found. It’s flash powder from a camera (hint: there be a spy aboard!) Dorian arrives for a little more sexual (non-)tension. He apparently joined the League to face his “demons”. Mina: “What do you know of… demons?” Guys, you keep saying “demons” like that, and the word just sounds goofy. It can’t be helped. With a lurking Jekyll in the hallway, Dorian explains that his portrait is magical and grants him invincibility, as long as he never sees it (this differs from the actual story, in which Dorian’s portrait merely aged instead of the man, and Dorian could and did look at it frequently).

Dorian begins La Dance De Clumsy Seductiona, a dance I know far too well. He offers Mina a thimbleful of liquor (“I’m not much of a drinker,” she says with a large sign proclaiming VAMPIRE IRONY over her head flashing). It breaks, she cuts her fingers, and goes sorta swoony over the blood. Kissing ensues. It’s not pretty. Jekyll hears Hyde’s voice and leaves before anything good happens, having a Gollumish conversation with himself. Nemo spots him and offers to kindly skewer him on the spot (yeah, the League’s just bosom buddies all around). Jekyll spits Nemo’s questionable heritage back at him, and another bridge is burned. Back in quarters, Jekyll discovers one of his transformation potions is missing (da-da-DUM!). 51:50

In another room, the Leaguers are topping off a tickle fight followed with a bevy of well-meant hugs. Or so you would believe! Actually, they’re just chucking a wad of exposition your way: the Fantom is going to blow Venice’s supports and sink the city, and there’s a saboteur on board. InvisMan is blamed for the latter. 52:25

Venice! Finally! City of lights and the exact same sets as London’s streets, only with water. We’re shown the biggest improbability to swallow of the entire film: the Nautilus, being enormously long, can barely squeak by in the canals, and there’s no possible way it can turn. That’s okay – do we really need reality or even a vague semblance of one? Our 90,000-square foot sub uses its periscope (invention date: 1776, by George Washington, who also invented the solar powered horse) to spy on the city. There are people; a lot of people. “My god,” a voice off-screen says, “The carnival! We have to find the bombs!” So, apparently a carnival ushers in urgency, whereas the safety of thousands living their normal lives would rate a big shoulder shrug from the League. Great priorities, gentlemen. We get a very dark and murky shot (of course) that goes through the water to reveal hundreds of ticking barrels attached to the support beams of the city.

Scraping under a few bridges, the Nautilus comes to a stop and can go no further. Aww, the way this movie plays fast and loose with physics, I would’ve assumed it could’ve easily traversed a kiddy wading pool with room to spare. In a cool sequence, side doors pop off the Nautilus and the crew disembarks, many wearing ye olde SCUBA gear, which look heavy enough to instantly sink anyone using them to the bottom of a watery grave, head first. Nemo quickly sends them to their doom. Dorian warns them all to be wary of InvisMan’s treachery, which sends the heroes cringing at a battery of fireworks. Treachery afoot! Or the closing time at a theme park! If you watch the background, Nemo’s foot soldiers act comically terrified and startled, ready to slip on any banana peels present. “I… feared the worst,” Mina says unconvincingly. Tom tries for a juvenile feelski in an effort to provide that “assistance” he talked about earlier, but another, larger blast sends them reeling. The lookout on the mast of the Nautilus (which goes far above the rooftops) points at collapsing buildings and says, “They’re falling like dominos!” Wait, they had those in 1899? So when did they start delivering pizza?

Thus, the League has failed. Or so you’d think, until you heard the next completely asinine exchange that follows. To sum it up, amidst falling buildings and explosions, the whole team manages to suss out that the bombs are exploding in a chain instead of all at once, and all they need to do is to get ahead of the blasts, signal Nemo to fire his rockets (of COURSE they had targetable rockets in 1899, cease your foolish inquisition!) to take out a building – presumably an orphanage — to stop the detonations. Hey guys? Just a thought, but if you hadn’t stopped to pick up Hyde or Dorian, you might’ve had a couple days to defuse the bombs and finish off with a round of gelato. Don’t we feel like the horse’s ass, hm?

Dorian kindly informs us that he is an immortal, not a gazelle. No help there. Tom Sawyer, ever the American literary figure, launches out of the sub driving the automocar in such a spectacular way that you’d expect he grew up watching NASCAR instead of horse farming. Everyone hops in except Jekyll, who whines that “Hyde will never use me again.” “Then what good are you?” Dorian smirks. Good point, Mr. I’m-Not-A-Gazelle-But-At-Least-I-Laid-Mina.

Here we go with the confusing action again. Q functions as a sort of primitive GPS (geriatric pointing service) and directs Sawyer with a map of the town in his bony hands. Dorian and Mina, from the backseat, want to know if they’re there yet. Q responds that if they don’t shut up, he’s turning the automocar around, and they’re all in for a round of British spankings. Naturally, machine guns open up from the rooftops – “Damn Skinner,” Dorian subtlety lays on the blame, “He must’ve told them that we were coming!” And what? The minions of evil went, “Well, we’d have to perch on rooftops for the one chance in twenty that they’d drive down our street to shoot at them, and all of these buildings we’re going to be standing on are slated for imminent demolition, but the overtime pay is sure worth it!”? Dorian nimbly stumbles out of the car going 45 mph to grab some coffee. Lots more driving, crashing through solid marble columns, shooting at faceless stormtroopers everywhere. Sawyer makes Q take the wheel so he can go “yehaw!” and fan his six-shooters at black targets at night at over 200 yards away. It doesn’t go so hot.

“Save your bullets; these men are MINE!” Mina sure has a one-track libido, that’s for sure. She leaps out of the car and goes into Vampire Mode. Both are astonished, but Q warns Sawyer to keep his eyes on the bloody road. “What road?” Sawyer replies. “Transportation in Venice is mainly done via canals and very tiny walkways, which negates the possibility of driving a… oh, wait, we’re still in this dumb flick, aren’t we? Nevermind, then.” Another street, another swarm of enemy snipers who can’t seem to hit anything. Q then utters my favorite line in the movie: “The vampire lady has us covered!” Oh, if only all of life had this type of coverage. If only. Mina and a lot of bats take out all the bad guys, and we sit here in awe. 58:53

Meanwhile, the city continues to collapse from the detonations, turning Venice from a cultural landmark to future project of Habitat for Humanity. Nemo bides his time, waiting for the signal, while Ishmael urges him to pull out. Is the Nautilus in any real danger of the city? I thought it was the other way around.

Two little Indians, sitting on a log. Q spies an evil cannon-boat and hops out of the car; due to the miracle of Editing, what would most certainly result in fractures and pins and two months in rehab turns out to be as dramatic as someone jumping down from a motionless stepstool. One little Indian, sitting on a log. Q chases Fantom, whose genius is questioned by his presence in a city that he’s currently exploding. Sawyer finally gets ahead of the exploding computer models, fires his flare gun, and promptly crashes the convertible, upside-down. He’s naturally smeared into a fine bloody paste, which causes… oh wait, Editing. He’s fine, and struggles out from under the car. Nemo fires rockets (“They go KABLOOEY!” he said at a book release party for 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea) at the car. Sawyer has enough time to crawl about two inches before impact, so he’s toast. Right? Okay, I’ll stop playing into the filmmaker’s hands.

Q chases Fantom into the famed Venice cemetery, where they bury people in, what, two inches of imported topsoil that lies on top a pier? There’s some standard cat-and-mouse stalking and talking, but it’s too dull to regale you with it. Back on the Nautilus, Dorian assassinates Ishmael; the audience is not surprised in the least. What a twist we couldn’t see coming from the time we saw the movie poster. Men in ruffles are not to be trusted. Back in the graveyard, Fantom stabs Q, who knocks his mask off to reveal… M! You know, M! That guy? Who sent them on this whole quest to begin with? Who was in about two minutes of a scene a half hour before? Who logically had no way of going from England to Italy in four days ahead of the Nautilus, the fastest boat in the world? Oh, the betrayal! Q throws the dagger in his back, and both hero and villain limp away with a cool new scar to impress all the hot older chicks.

Reunion party back at the Nautilus. Q spills the beans about M, Dorian is missing (or SO THEY THINK!), Sawyer is not as dead as all probability would want him to be, and Ishmael stumbles out to tell them that Dorian is the right Benedict Arnold (who invented cybernetic applesauce). Speaking of the devil, Dorian escapes using the Nautilus’ funky escape pod, and Mina looks especially upset. 1:05:59

I’ll give this to the filmmakers: they had a heap-load of fun trying to figure out archaic versions of modern day technology. Back on the Nautilus, Nemo shows them the “radar” (a rotating metal ball showing a relief map of the ocean floor) where the Nautilus is chasing the “Nautiloid” (two lowered metal arms with little lights attached). Sawyer tries another clumsy attempt at showing Mina his virility. A high pitched whine breaks into the middle of whatever was going on, as a crewmember delivers Nemo an LP record (invented by Joan of Arc during the Greek siege of Troy) with a little doohickey attached. Oh, but it’s not just a phonograph – it’s a film projector too! For no good reason other than to fulfill his contractual obligation to spill the beans at some point, M tells the League it’s all been a sham up to that point (oh really.) and he’s turned Dorian against them (Dorian actually gets a camera close-up and says, “Growl.”). The big reveal is that M/Fantom was going after the League’s individual traits: Nemo’s science, InvisMan’s skin samples, Jekyll’s potion, and Mina’s blood. I guess Q and Sawyer are just there to add flavor to the menu.

Let’s pause here for a minute and think things through. One of my great pet peeves of cinema is when filmmakers create a movie that only makes sense when looked at by the perspective of the Good Guys, but unravels completely if you try to figure out what the Bad Guys have had to do to set up the plot twists and turns. For instance, in a horror film, it might be a good moment when a Good Guy walks into a bedroom and a body suddenly falls out of the closet onto him. Ahh! But then you’d have to consider that the Bad Guy, after killing the victim, had taken enough time to prop the body back up in a closet and somehow time its reveal to ensure a maximum scare. All while continuing on his deadly rampage, natch.

Thus, our attention swivels to M’s grand plan here. Ooh, the betrayal and the basic motive is captivating enough (I guess) to warrant a pardon by the audience, but the whole thing makes no frickin’ sense. So M wants to make a bundle of cash by producing highly advanced technology and science, and selling it to the highest bidder. Fair enough. But at the start of the film, it’s already established that he’s obtained/invented tanks and bullet-proof body armor and submachine guns and rocket launchers, so wouldn’t he have a nice platform to start his arms sales already?

Okay, we’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and call it “greed”. He wants more. So he sets his sights on some technology (Nemo’s stuff) and science (InvisMan, Mina, Hyde) he doesn’t have, and wants. He blackmails Dorian into helping (we find out how later), and then instead of using his vast resources and manpower to forcibly take these secrets, one by one, he has a bright idea of reforming the LXG with those four, plus a couple extra for no sane reason. Um… why? To get all their secrets at once, instead of one at a time? Considering the expense of time and effort that went into this charade, how does this save him some hassle?

He then creates the Venice threat as a major diversion, although why Fantom was supposedly blowing it up in the first place isn’t explained very well, nor is the real reason (I suppose it’s to kill the LXG members so he can escape with their stuff afterward). After this, he sabotages the Nautilus, to stop the team that HE FORMED from coming after him. You think he was just lonely and wanted a good fight, so he made up his opponent?

Back to the movie. Remember the high pitched whine? It’s triggering bombs on the Nautilus (Dorian: “BOMB voyage!” Me: “Get a life, ya pansy.”). Explosions happen. People look somewhat concerned. As the Nautilus careens into the depths, Jekyll decides to go into Hyde mode to save the ship. He pulls a couple of mystery levers, which saves them all. Q and Sawyer move the conference room table back into place, repairs are made, and tea is put on the kettle. Everyone seems to really like Jekyll now. It’s literally 15 seconds later, and a bomb-devastated submarine is returned to full operation. Hooray for montages! Nemo does a bit of Indiana Jones map exposition, which does nothing but get us completely lost. Long story short: they’re somewhere very cold. 1:15:39

“Imperial troops have entered the base! Imperial troops have….”
A cool shot of the Nautilus bursting out from beneath some ice. In Russia? Antarctica? Pluto? Who knows where this wacky sub can travel! With the aid of binoculars, they note that the local village is deserted, yet fail to observe that their sub is now black and stands in not-so-hidden relief against the white ice. Off they go! Everyone is dressed in white snow parkas, complete with the goofiest goggles Nemo could find from whatever passed as J. Crew back then. Between the look of the party and the snow, I expect Imperial Walkers to be spotted in the distance and an Ion Cannon to be shooting at Star Destroyers any time now. They discover M’s Fortress of Doom, which looks like an Arabian/Russian palace, only with fire shooting out of random smokestacks.

At a cave which passes for a Day’s Inn in this place, Q stands guard and nearly blows away a Bengal Tiger. Nemo and Mina come out, and thus begins a conversation thickened with lumpy metaphors:

Nemo: Just an old tiger, sensing his end.
Q: Perhaps this wasn’t his time to die after all.

I’ll decode that brain stumper for you: the tiger is… get this… Q! Because he’s old! And this is his last hurrah, but he intends to go down fighting! Also, foreshadowing!

InvisMan shows up from his scouting mission and gives Mina a bit of a goosing. Ew. He reminds them (and us) that he’s kind of naked at the present, which he delivers with the sort of tone that suggests mild discomfort, not the onset of severe frostbite and hypothermia that should be happening. InvisMan gives a brief, yet unsatisfying explanation about why he disappeared on the ship. He then does a little montage fly-by of M’s fortress, telling the Mission: Impossible team what they’re up against. It’s a big factory, there’s a bunch of robots/metal suits, and eight versions of the Nautilus under construction. Anxiety strikes Nemo – without the Nautilus as his unique “thing”, he’ll have to resort to the powers of his moustache and death-worship to sustain his place in the group! There’s also scientists stirring brightly-colored liquids to replicate the League’s powers, while their families are being held hostage, and their kids forced to go to Evil Day Care. Following this is a bit more saber-rattling and bravado talk from the group, but we shall continue. 1:21:00

The League invades the fortress, while M and Dorian act coy in the parlor. In a huge hallway, Hyde stops, and I expect him to say something profound. Instead, he puts his hand out, and one by one… oh yes, the cliché lives… the team throw their hands into the middle as if they’re at a basketball game. Go Team Grumpy!

Q and Sawyer run through some discarded sets from Lord of the Rings. “You lead, I’ll follow,” Sawyer says, as if he had any other choice. They spy the scientists and tanks, but that’s not their job and they’re not going to worry about it. Nemo’s squad frees the scientists’ families without firing a single shot, while InvisMan lays down some explosives. So far, this invasion has failed to impress me in terms of M’s security. Q finds M, and hides in the corner while a crony comes in with the League’s stool samples, or whatever he keeps in that mystery box. The one soldier who gets away from Nemo fails to set off an alarm for the whole base, but instead foots it to M’s quarters to deliver the news in person. “How many times must I kill these cretins!” M says. Only he says “cretins” in an odd way that sounds like “cry-tins”. You’d think that with two League sharpshooters armed with rifles only five feet away, M would be dead three times over by now, but… nope. I think it was Q’s nap time.

A battle finally erupts between Nemo’s men and some guys in metal suits and machine guns. You know, just like in World War ½! Hyde blocks the bullets with a door, and Nemo dances through the hail of gunfire to slice up all the stormtroopers with his saber. Meanwhile (this whole sequence cuts between “meanwhiles”, so bear with me), Q finally wakes up enough to draw his rifle on M… or shall I say, Professor James Moriarty. Yes indeedy, it’s Sherlock Holmes’ great nemesis, disguised as the Fantom, who was disguised as M. So clever, I have a headache. A knife-throwing goon distracts the Leaguers long enough for M to escape. Curses! 1:27:21

Dorian returns to his quarters to see his portrait wrapped up in parcel paper. I would think that if you had an object that could kill you on sight, you’d want it locked up in something thicker than paper, but thinking about that makes me wonder why Dorian had it hung on his wall in his home to begin with. Mina is there, the very picture of PMS with fangs. Some clever banter, then fighting, then banter, then wounds healing, then fighting… you get the idea. It’s actually a well-done fight, if they kept the dialogue out of it. Then Dorian spouts the infamous line, “I’d hoped I’d get to nail you one more time… I didn’t think it’d be literally.” He’s smug and walks away, knowing that it’s a splendid idea to turn your back on an immortal vampire who is two feet away from his Achilles’ Heel. Well played, Dorian.

Sawyer bumps into an invisible opponent and has one of those fights that must’ve seemed cool in the director’s head, but shows up as a guy taking swings at nothing while a knife floats in the air. While that guy just runs away, Sawyer goes on to round two, which is a guy in a heavy iron suit, carrying a flamethrower.

Yes, a flamethrower.

While you suck on that violation of basic physics for a minute, Sawyer unloads a pair of six-shooters on him (sigh), and I count around 18 bullet shots because I’m ornery. Nothing doing. Fireball comes his way, and Sawyer is off to the races! Iron Man stalks through the rooms that are ablaze, but his 500-pound air conditioning system keeps him cool as a cucumber. Sawyer is saved only by InvisMan hitting Iron Man’s tank long enough for Iron Man to swing around and set InvisMan on fire. Ouch! Iron Man finally blows up or something.

Mina comes back to live and impales Dorian on the wall, forcing him to look at his painting, which looks a bit worse for the wear. In a neat bit, Dorian ages incredibly fast like that guy in The Last Crusade, and the painting grows younger. Bye-bye, Dorian.

Hyde’s fight comes as an unnamed lunatic baddie drinks an entire beaker of Hyde juice, turning him into the poster boy of steroid abuse. Sawyer has to battle the other invisible guy, and Q faces off against M in a spar of poorly-chosen words. It’s so thrilling, I don’t know where to doze off first. The Hyde vs. Super Hyde fight is a fair bit of fun, but the other two battles are forgettable exchanges and such quick cutting that Michael Bay stood up and gave a 15-minute ovation. Q does a hilarious thing where he punches the camera, but somehow M is the one who gets the full effect of the hit.

Bombs go off and all heal breaks loose. Super Hyde is crushed, and M escapes death by some psychological chat. Q kills the invisible guy who has Sawyer, but gets knifed in the process. That isn’t fair! M parachutes (!) down the fortress (guess he wears that thing all the time), and Sawyer uses his newfound skill of Not Sucking With A Rifle to pick him off. “May this new century be yours, son,” Q rambles as he dies. Yes, because the 20th century was widely known as the Tom Sawyer Century. The Q is no more. Noooooo! Or, yessssssss! 1:40:29

Victory in hand, we’re suddenly in Africa. The Leaguers bury and mourn the man they often called “Pappa Smurf”. Mourning is a strong word; they’re more “We showed up, but there’s no refreshments and that kinda sucks.” Nemo announces he’s going on the ’00 world tour, and everyone heads off with him. Yet, remember how Africa wouldn’t let Q die? You know, from that throwaway line really early in the film? Well, a medicine man comes to Q’s grave, shakes a stick, clouds form, and Q’s mound rumbles. He’s back, baby, and a zombie to boot!

The end. 1:42:52

Wha…? On top of its many egregious sins, LXG has to have one of the fastest and least satisfying climaxes of all time. The League wins, but there’s no celebration or post-victory wrap-up party. Just a melancholy bit in Africa where they suggest that Q is going to thrust his hand up through the ground, all Carrie-like, to tackle all literary credibility. You can’t stop him; he’s Q!

That’s it. Please exit the theater and ignore the weird African tribal music during the credits.