Pat Dowell. Independence Day. (movie reviews) Cineaste, 22 (1996) 3: 39+

                 Review Grade: D

                 Full Text: COPYRIGHT 1996 Cineaste Publishers Inc.

                 When the coming-attractions trailers for Independence Day
                 began playing in theaters early in 1996, audiences always
                 cheered at the spectacular demolition of the White House
                 by an alien spaceship as big as Rhode Island. "It blowed
                 up good," as the farmer-critics used to say (it was their
                 loftiest and most frequent movie verdict) on SCTV's
                 parody of Siskel and Ebert.

                 The scene was probably cheered nowhere so loudly as in
                 Washington itself, America's last colonial outpost,
                 governed at the whim of a hostile Congress and currently
                 suffering the tender mercies of rule by Mayor Marion
                 Barry. Like most movies that visit Washington, Barry's
                 city was nowhere to be seen. And it went up in smoke,
                 presumably, with 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, just as the
                 Prez and a few souls who might save the world from
                 invaders escaped in Air Force One.

                 That explosion was just about the only thing that anyone
                 could remember about the trailer for Independence Day,
                 which played early and often throughout the year. The
                 climactic image led pundits and psychologists to worry in
                 public and in print about the dangerous mindset its
                 reception revealed: Americans gleefully applauding the
                 obliteration of a national symbol of authority. Surely
                 this was yet more evidence of the antigovernment paranoia
                 and disrespect for constructive norms that had led to the
                 Oklahoma City bombing of a federal office building, not
                 to mention contributing to the proliferation of unwed
                 mothers, whose wimpish parenting nudged their fatherless
                 sons into a life of crime.

                 Not to worry. The movie, when it finally arrived, turned
                 out to be a popular nostrum designed to salve precisely
                 these two canker sores on the body politic. In this plot,
                 jingo-istic patriotism, in the form of a call to arms
                 against the most sinister illegal aliens Patrick Buchanan
                 could imagine, ultimately unites the globe under can-do
                 American command and provides the movie with its general
                 tone of kick-ass virility. It's easy to imagine the late
                 John Wayne taking a cameo role, or maybe as the general
                 played by Robert Loggia.

                 Family values get a boost in the movie, too. The imminent
                 destruction of the planet is one long object lesson
                 designed to drum them into the top-gun pilot played by
                 Will Smith (the success of both character and actor
                 serving as a living testament to the end of racism and
                 the superfluity of Affirmative Action). This young black
                 man better marry his girlfriend (oddly occupied as a
                 stripper), the movie suggests, thereby making an honest
                 woman of the mother of his son, or else - civilization as
                 we know it will come to an end. So what if he already
                 lives with her in suburban bliss, and is an active
                 father? Without the sanction of that piece of paper, a
                 proper church (or in this case chapel) wedding, and the
                 witness of no less a Big Daddy than the President of the
                 United States, actions and relationships mean nothing.

                 No wonder Independence Day became the movie phenomenon of
                 not only the summer but the year, moving up through the
                 ten all-time top-grossing mo-vies as the election neared.
                 Bob Dole himself actually went to see it, towing along
                 reporters to verify he'd bought a ticket and some
                 popcorn, and he pronounced it good (despite the fact that
                 ID4, like the movie Dole denounced, Striptease, features
                 a stripper mother).

                 And no wonder Dole liked it. Dole probably hasn't seen a
                 movie since 1955, and Independence Day is virtually
                 indistinguishable from any number of Fifties schlock
                 science-fiction flicks hailing from that decade, except
                 for the fact that its budget was approximately 3,000
                 times bigger.

                 It's not all a matter of sucking up to the market that
                 explains why presidents and wannabe presidents should
                 adore ID4 (as it became known in ads). After all, one of
                 the central characters is the president and he is a
                 heroic sort, even though the actor playing him, Bill
                 Pullman, first made an impression in Ruthless People
                 (1986) as the biggest idiot on the face of the earth, and
                 has since then generally played jerks and Ralph Bellamy
                 style foils for leading men. As befits a movie trying not
                 to alienate any segment of the market, the fictional
                 commander in chief seems to be based on both Robert Dole
                 and Bill Clinton. He's a war hero (a jet jockey from
                 Operation Desert Storm) but also a young man in his
                 forties with a hint of skirt-chasing about him. Glimpsed
                 at the White House is a photo of himself with the Dalai
                 Lama, surely not to be found on any Republican desk.

                 Like both candidates for the presidency in 1996, he has a
                 wife actively involved in...well, what it is the First
                 Lady, played by Mary McDonnell, does is as vague as the
                 president's party affiliation, a matter usually left
                 unspecified by Hollywood when it comes to fictional White
                 House occupants (last year's The American President,
                 clearly labeled a Democrat, was a notable exception).
                 This First Lady also fulfills a great national fantasy,
                 if polls are correct - she expires in midpicture. Beating
                 her to the grave is the movie's token gay, a
                 cable-company employee played by Harvey Fierstein as a
                 kind of Stepin Fetchit to techie hero Jeff Goldblum,
                 repeating his Jurassic Park role with a patina of
                 environmentalism (he finally proves his manhood, however,
                 and lights up a stogie for the victory party).

                 Also slated for execution is Harry Connick Jr., playing a
                 flyboy chum of Will Smith's. Connick clowns around with
                 Smith as a mock lover in their squadron, suggesting that
                 in this movie even jokes about gender deviation can be
                 lethal. On the other hand, superficial racial tolerance
                 gets a sentimental endorsement in the script's attempt to
                 reconcile African-American and Jew through the
                 camaraderie of Will Smith and Jeff Goldblum, and
                 Goldblum's almost vaudevillian dad, played by Judd
                 Hirsch.

                 Despite such convoluted subtexts, Independence Day makes
                 a great show of constructing a simple, linear plot and
                 old-fashioned character typology that recall not only
                 Fifties B-movies but also the made-for-television
                 features that replaced them. It certainly does not
                 significantly improve on their special effects. The giant
                 alien ships are disappointingly muddy and vague in
                 detail; indeed, the only contribution the movie makes in
                 this regard is an apocalyptically satisfying shot of cars
                 tumbling end over end down city streets filled with
                 panicked citizens, propelled by a gigantic fireball that
                 will soon engulf all those nameless extras and
                 sacrificial supporting players stuck in traffic (that's
                 how Fierstein gets his, consumed by almost biblical
                 wrath).

                 Independence Day is nonetheless a cheery and playful
                 pastiche of visual and dramatic elements filched from
                 dozens of science-fiction movies. The cinematic quotes
                 are as thick as puns and parodies in a Leslie Nielsen
                 movie, but hardly as scattershot. They tend to follow a
                 pattern that gradually takes on ideological coloring,
                 pointing toward a more heroic, xenophobic, and
                 militaristic interpretation of space fantasy.

                 Independence Day invokes the whole of Star Trek the most
                 long-lived version of the imperialist wing of space
                 adventure, when Next Generation star Brent Spiner shows
                 up as a U.S. saucer scientist who has been underground
                 too long. The most obvious inspiration for ID4's
                 signature shot can be found in the Cold-War allegory
                 Earth vs. the Flying Saucers (1956), in which virtually
                 all of Washington's federal presence was blown to
                 smithereens. I think I even heard a reference to
                 thermite, the explosive used in The Thing from Another
                 World (1951) in the first bungled attempt to free a
                 spaceship from the Arctic ice cap. The movie that came
                 most often to mind, however, while I watched Independence
                 Day at a crowded, jubilant, and unprecedented 4:00 a.m.
                 sneak preview preceding opening day (the best route to
                 enjoyment, no doubt) was The War of the Worlds (1953).
                 The aliens have a greenish protective force field that
                 recalls the alien shields in that movie, and when the
                 squishy alien anatomy is revealed, particularly the
                 hands, they invoke the vulnerable Martians created by
                 George Pal. Independence Day does a nifty update on War
                 of the Worlds' doomed minister, too, when religious
                 fools, in Nineties guise as New Age loonies, mount a
                 skyscraper hoping for alien communion, despite every
                 rational indication that they are soon to be dead meat.

                 When Independence Day quotes less xenophobic space
                 fantasies, the references are usually mocking
                 repudiations of the sentiments of detente. E.T. The
                 Extraterrestrial (1982) is invoked when, prior to his
                 mission, Will Smith says he wants "to get up there and
                 whup E.T.'s ass." He rebuffs the premise of Close
                 Encounters of the Third Kind (1977) when he punches out
                 an alien and says, "Now that's what I call a close
                 encounter." Spielberg's movies are also represented by
                 spaceship design and signature special-effects shots,
                 such as the billowing, surging cloud that heralds the
                 approach of the alien ships. Star Wars (1977) is mined
                 for its dogfights in space and an alien mother ship with
                 approach lanes that recall the Death Star. There is a
                 visual echo of the space station architecture of 1968's
                 2001: A Space Odyssey here, too, and a more direct
                 reference when Goldblum turns on his lap-top computer,
                 which greets him with HAL's "Good morning, Dave." A scene
                 from The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) is actually
                 seen at one point and its D.C. visitation is echoed and
                 inverted by Independence Day's pseudo-diplomatic call on
                 the White House. Another subversion of an anti-Cold War
                 movie occurs when Randy Quaid, as a scruffy crop duster
                 recruited to fly against the alien armada, rides a
                 doomsday weapon into the heart of the enemy and is deemed
                 a hero, reflecting as in a funhouse mirror the final,
                 absurd ride of Slim Pickens in Dr. Strangelove (1964).

                 One telling difference between the past and the present
                 in Washington-set science fiction is that forty years ago
                 special-effects genius Ray Harryhausen sent his elegant
                 ships in Earth vs. the Flying Saucers crashing into every
                 national monument but the White House. Now director
                 Roland Emmerich zeroes in immediately on the president's
                 residence, using its fiery destruction to promote
                 Independence Day to lusty hurrahs from the putative
                 owners of that real estate. This is not, I suspect,
                 Republican sour grapes so much as a measure of the
                 definitive celebrity makeover of American politics that
                 has occurred during the elapsed four decades. The
                 Congress, that pack of indistinguishable supporting
                 players, can all go up in smoke without delivering the
                 thrills that immolating America's most bankable leading
                 man would bring. The occupant of the White House has also
                 seen a more precipitous decline in sanctity since the
                 Fifties; Congress has been an object of unrelenting
                 ridicule for about two centuries.

                 Independence Day does not stop with sampling the sci-fi
                 archives. It also rummages through the history of
                 disaster movies - Airport (1970) and The Towering Inferno
                 (1974) are referenced. ID4 even taps the current
                 conspiracy motifs of The X-Files (a throwaway line even
                 names the show), solving the mystery of the disputed 1947
                 alien landing at Roswell, New Mexico with real panache.
                 Thus is history that has passed into myth reactivated as
                 a dramatic explanation of suppressed history, which is
                 revealed in a future that is just around the corner.

                 Celebrating the fictional past is the main activity and
                 effect of Independence Day when it conjures up Fifties
                 esthetics. It thereby reestablishes as blockbuster
                 material the obsolete style of moviemaking that was
                 standard operating procedure in a Hollywood era marked by
                 the suppression of dissent, active industry censorship,
                 and the relegation of politics to often hysterical
                 subtexts. Independence Day also calls the audience back
                 to a past that is fictional in the sense that it depicts
                 an imaginary American society that never existed, but
                 that conservatives exhort the public to recreate: that
                 America of vital military action embraced by blissful
                 nuclear families.

                 Most science-fiction movies of the Fifties wasted little
                 time on this neighborhood homily, but then this is the
                 kind of world presupposed by such movies as The War of
                 the Worlds. Science fiction in succeeding decades lifted
                 off in altogether different directions - into
                 philosophical chilliness, violent nihilism, sheer boys
                 adventure in its most trivial antisocial stance, and dire
                 paranoid feminism. Even when desperately attempting to
                 fabricate families out of modern loners, as in Alien
                 (1979) and its sequels, in The Terminator (1984) and
                 Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991), Earth and its offworld
                 outposts were places of shattered harmony and menacing
                 predators long before the murderous parasites and
                 androids arrived.

                 Independence Day is celebrated in a sunnier place where
                 ali's right with the world - until the outsiders intrude.
                 The fiction of an idyllic America, waiting to be spoiled,
                 is necessary to construct the fiction of barbarians at
                 the gates. Just as, outside the theater, the right calls
                 for restrictions on legal immigration, just as the
                 refrain of the Cold-War classic The Thing was 'Shut the
                 door,' so too does Independence Day literally and
                 figuratively topple the Statue of Liberty, submerging her
                 undiscriminating invitation and shrewdly saddling the
                 aliens with this suicidal metaphor. This is one big dumb
                 science-fiction movie that may be smarter than it looks.

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