Rollerball
(2001)
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It's the year 2005; the new sport of Rollerball is hugely popular in the unstable, ex-Soviet republics of South Asia. Marcus Ridley (LL Cool J) invites NHL-hopeful Jonathan Cross (Chris Klein) to join him playing for the Zhambel Horsemen, in Kazahkstan. The highly paid Marcus and Jonathon are teamed with low-paid locals, who are routinely severely injured in the game, which is an extraordinarily violent extension of roller derby involving motorcycles, a metal ball, and many trappings of World Wrestling Entertainment. Soon the team's star and the darling of promoter Alexi Petrovich (Jean Reno), Jonathan, is thrilled by the high-octane sport, the hype, the sports cars, and female team mate Aurora (a glowering, scar-faced Rebecca Romijm-Stamos). But gradually Jonathan discovers that the cynical Alexi and his opportunistic assistant Sanjay (Naveen Andrews) will go to any lengths to manipulate the game in order to provide an evermore gory spectacle and improve the game's television ratings. Director John McTiernan's movie is grungy and even more violent than the original 1975 ROLLERBALL. He conveys the visceral nature of the game with sharply edited action sequences and a goosed-up soundtrack, and then he shows the volatile game convulsively spinning out of control and causing social upheaval. |
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Despite its cult kudos, Norman Jewison's 1975 futuristic nightmare was never an exceptional film. However, compared to this pointless reinterpretation, it's a masterpiece. Turgid, spiritless and excitement free, this remake is like an optical lobotomy. Magnifying the original's weaknesses to excruciating levels, it compounds its brain-numbing banality with wooden performances, risible dialogue and an emotionally bankrupt plot. Chris Klein lacks charisma as the sporting hotshot who uncovers global conspiracy, while female lead Rebecca Romijn-Stamos is just an athletic clothes horse. Yet although this is a movie preoccupied with image and gloss, director John McTiernan delivers no visual thrills. Instead he settles for lacklustre set pieces that make the rollerball action sequences about as electrifying as a school sports day. Shameful mediocrity for a man who, in his prime, made Predator and two Die Hard films.