Monday, November 30, 2015

Once You Go Pitch Black, You Never Go Back

Pitch Black is a movie so ridiculous, so outlandish that it was bound to succeed gloriously, if only for those watching with the right eyes. It was absolutely a movie of its time, emblematic of everything that was great about movies and pop culture around the turn of the millennium. But it also had its own, unique voice, which it used to scream to the heavens and anybody else willing to listen.

The plot of Pitch Black is built on a series of events and improbabilities that skirt--and sometimes blow right through--the very boundaries of plausibility. Yet combined with the proper and proportionate dose of ambiguity and a complete dedication to its own demented trajectory, the result is so absurdly awesome that you really can't turn away.

You know that what you're going to be watching is going to be fucking awesome when the opening voice over goes something like this:

They say most of your brain shuts down in cryo-sleep. All but the primitive side, the animal side. No wonder I'm still awake. Transporting me with civilians. Sounded like 40, 40-plus. Heard an Arab voice. Some hoodoo holy man, probably on his way to New Mecca. But what route? What route? I smelt a woman. Sweat, boots, tool belt, leather. Prospector type. Free settlers. And they only take the back roads. And here's my real problem. Mr. Johns... the blue-eyed devil. Planning on taking me back to slam... only this time he picked a ghost lane. A long time between stops. A long time for something to go wrong...