Color Out of Space
One of the worst films thus far to receive a respectable theatrical release, Color Out of Space is utter bullshit of the highest degree and a colossal waste of time.
Written and directed by Richard Stanley (Hardware), whose 20-plus years of accumulated feature filmmaking rust shows in practically every frame, the H.P. Lovecraft adaptation suffers from a boring, lethargic screenplay, cheap-looking visuals, and laughable digital special effects that play like failed auditions for the Syfy channel.
Nicolas Cage continues his streak of poor choices as Nathan Gardner, a struggling artist who moves his severely ill wife Theresa (Joely Richardson), witchy daughter Lavinia (Madeleine Arthur, Big Eyes), and sons Benny (Brendan Meyer, The Guest) and Jack (Julian Hilliard, The Haunting of Hill House) from “the city” to his inherited family estate in rural Massachusetts.
Following a dull introductory stretch that does little to foster investment in these characters, the addition of a meteorite that bathes the property in neon pink/purple light and sets off a series of strange events would seemingly usher in bizarre entertainment of the Mandy variety — but not with Stanley behind the camera.
Uninterested in telling a coherent story or presenting it via anything but the most basic cinematography, the director stumbles early and often with one questionable decision after another. Eye-rolling character decisions are rampant, some driven by the titular malevolent entity and others out of low I.Q., and dragged lower by the cast’s amateurish acting.
While the prospect of witnessing Cage become unhinged by a supernatural force is among modern cinema’s most appealing pitches, and his Nathan is afforded the opportunity to swing in and out of insanity — albeit with sudden shifting motivations and odd corresponding vocal timbres — under Stanley’s hands-off direction, these actions feel random at best and repel emotional resonance.
The rest of the ensemble fares just as poorly, especially Elliot Knight (ABC’s Once Upon a Time), who appears unclear about when the camera is rolling, playing the film’s hydrologist narrator and de facto “voice of reason.” Not even Tommy Chong as a conspiracy theorist squatter on the Gardners’ land can muster an ounce of energy or charisma in this milieu — a remarkable achievement, considering the stoner icon’s ability to shine in seemingly any project.
Color Out of Space’s lone saving grace is its handful of tactile, The Thing-like special effects, but they arrive far too late in the film to do much besides keep it from getting the lowest mark possible. By that point, Stanley’s reliance on questionable CGI has sealed its sorry fate, none sketchier than a quick shot of a mutated cat that’s an all-timer howler.
Grade: D-minus. Not rated. Starts Jan. 24 at the Fine Arts Theatre
(Photo: RLJE Films)
