How ‘Close Encounters of the Third Kind’s’ Special Edition Changed Hollywood

Steven Spielberg’s “Close Encounters of the Third Kind: The Special Edition” (1980) marked the first time a “special edition” was touted as such and released in theaters after the initial theatrical cut was a massive hit three years prior.

Spielberg’s return engagement of his late 1977 blockbuster was not only a financial success but put into place the notion that cinematic art, mainstream or otherwise, could be adjusted by the original artist, then presented as a new work to experience.

How’s the film itself? Still wonderful, whether you like what Roy Neary sees when he enters the Mother ship, but more on that later.

The film opens with a series of scenes in which the impossible is occurring all over the world. We witness the bizarre discovery of long-missing aircraft materialize in the desert, a massive power outage occurring in suburbia and (my favorite) a stern air traffic controller listening to a pilot who sees something amazing but refuses to report a UFO sighting.

We then meet Neary, a boyish father (Richard Dreyfuss, whose sideburns are the most dated thing in the movie), his uptight wife Ronnie (Teri Garr) and Jillian, a single mother (Melinda Dillon – yes, the mother from “A Christmas Story”) raising little Barry (3-year-old wonder Cary Guffey), who undergoes a deeply personal journey of discovery.

When Roy and Jillian can’t get a certain shape out of their minds, they alienate (pun intended) everyone around them by trying to figure out what it all means.

Dreyfuss is terrific at conveying the unstoppable need to know all, but he allows us to see the pain and humiliation his madness is costing his family. Garr is relatable and smart in what could have been a thankless role. Dillon is wonderful and earthy, as is Bob Balaban and legendary director Francois Truffaut in key turns.

When Spielberg’s “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” his fourth film and first after “Jaws” (1975), opened in the fall of 1977, many wondered how it would compare with “Star Wars.” George Lucas’ first groundbreaking, pop-culture shaping and box office conquering mega-hit had overshadowed most other films released that year.

Could Spielberg, whose giant killer shark movie was now the former biggest hit of all time, top The Force? Is Spielberg’s UFO epic better than “Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope”?

Let me go on record: You bet your pile of mashed potatoes it is!

STEVEN SPIELBERG is asked a great question on Inside The Actors Studio about Close Encounters Of The Third Kind, which blows his mind.pic.twitter.com/XVTHIUmzAZ

— All The Right Movies (@ATRightMovies) February 6, 2026

A consistent quality in Spielberg’s work is his gift for directing children. Note the famous dinner scene, in which an iconic pile of mashed potatoes triggers Roy’s obsession; although Dreyfuss is the focus of the scene, watch Shawn Bishop, the young actor playing his son, who is sitting next to Dreyfuss, matching him beat for beat.

As Neary’s oldest, Bishop is visibly crying and conveying the horror of watching his dad lose his mind.

A few scenes later, when Roy is tearing up his neighborhood, keep your eyes on Justin Dreyfuss (no relation), playing Toby, the youngest Neary boy: as Roy stalks around, trashing his front lawn, Toby follows him, helping him like a dutiful, confused little boy.

It’s an honest, perfect touch that Spielberg doesn’t underline. This is why his movie is still a masterpiece 40 years later: the human story is so real and authentic; it makes the sharp turns into science fiction seem plausible.

A standout aspect of Spielberg’s film is the hope and wonder it evokes. Not only is mankind’s crucial, first close encounter a good one overall but, with a youthful, infectious optimism, the film tells us to Watch the Skies. Not as a warning of those acid-blooded Xenomorphs from “Alien” (1979), nor the squid/crab thingies from “Independence Day”(1996), nor the dreadlocked, purring “Predator” (1987).

Spielberg is telling us to step outside our homes, walk onto the front lawn and gaze at the astonishing view above.

If you’ve never seen this movie, all I can say is to see it on the big screen and savor the experience. Let John Williams’ rich score wash over you, allow your jaw to gape at the still-incredible special effects and savor the witty dialogue, thoughtful questions on whether we’re alone in the universe and the moments of humor that frequently spring up.

When it was released in 1980, three years after the original version had circulated in theaters, “Close Encounters of the Third Kind- The Special Edition” grossed an astonishing $28 million. That’s a lot for some deleted scenes, added spectacle and the chance for the audience to see “inside.”

No prior re-release had ever been so highly touted as a “new” take on a previously existing film. Previous re-releases had not been hyped as a “special edition,” been quite so successful or noted in the marketing with the post-release changes, except for maybe the R-rated “Excalibur” (1981) and “Saturday Night Fever” (1977), both being re-released in recut PG editions early into their initial runs.

The growing videocassette market of the late 20th century, newly established pay cable networks and DVD extras would further introduce home viewing of new versions of films (which ranged from drastic alterations or simply new content added to prior existing versions). However, in theaters, the 1980 edition of Spielberg’s film was merely the beginning of the trend.

The highly touted, massively successful “Star Wars: Special Edition” in 1997 (with its pixelated additions and controversial Jabba the Hut sequence) was followed by each of the original trilogy returning to theaters with varying “upgrades”, leading decades later to the similar rollout (but without extensive alterations) to the 1999-2005 prequel trilogy.

Another highly debated and controversial “new edition” was Spielberg’s own “E.T. The Extra Terrestrial” (1982), with its added CGI and deleted bits that don’t actually enrich an already perfect work.

Other noteworthy theatrical special edition releases include “Apocalypse Now Redux” (2003), “Alien: The Director’s Cut” (2003), “Donnie Darko: The Director’s Cut” (2005), and “The Lord of the Rings” extended cuts.
George Lucas also revised his earlier breakthrough with “THX 1138: The Director’s Cut” (2012).

There have also been improved, lengthened or shortened versions released of Francis Ford Coppola’s “The Cotton Club” (1984), Michael Cimino’s “Heaven’s Gate” (1981) and Bob Guccione’s notorious and strangely durable “Caligula” (1980).

In limited release and/or film festival circuits, the director’s cuts of “Blade Runner” (1981), “Nightbreed” (1990), and “Brazil” (1985) found appreciative audiences. So did the extended cuts of “The Abyss” (1989), “Kingdom of Heaven” (2005), “Aliens” (1986), “Rocky IV” (1985), “The Counselor” (2013) and, arguably the most noted altered version in recent pop culture history, “Zack Snyder’s Justice League” (2017).

There were also the home releases of “Clue: The Movie” (1985), which allowed viewers to watch all three endings filmed in one sitting (unlike the theatrical release, with random theaters getting different versions) and “Little Shop of Horrors” (1986), with it famously downbeat and spectacular ending, cut for the theatrical release, then belatedly reinstated for digital release and solidifying its cult canon status.

Peter Bogdanovich’s “Mask” (1985) was released on DVD with different music than the theatrical release (out went Joe Cocker, back in were Bruce Springsteen tunes, as Bogdanovich originally intended).

As with all of these examples, it is just as easy to find longtime fans who declare only the original to be the preferred version as it is to find a vocal critic who states the new version is the best and definitive one.
Is a film truly ever finished?

That’s highly debatable, particularly if you ask the director.

I’ve always liked the tacked-on moments in the Special Edition of “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” as this was the first version of the film I ever saw. It’s weird for me to see a version of the film that doesn’t follow Roy Neary into the spaceship. Yet, I must report that Mr. Spielberg himself admitted publicly that he regretted the inclusion and that most of the later editions of the film don’t have the Special Edition footage.

As with all of these Special Editions and the Original Theatrical Cut they sprung from, the debate will always continue over which experience is the preferred one, particuyalry for the first timers.

Two things always spring to mind when I think of “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” which is a personal favorite (in either form) that was released the year I was born: The comic book adaptation was first I ever purchased and, while skinny, it was as wide as a coffee table. I carried it everywhere like a teddy bear.

Also, there’s the scene where Jillian runs onto her lawn, watching the light in the clouds fade away as a UFO steals her child. She lets out a horrible cry of “Baaaarrry!”

That scarred me for life.

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Consider ‘Elizabethtown’ as a Valentine’s Day Treat

Cameron Crowe’s “Elizabethtown” (2005) is about an idealistic young man dealing with a catastrophic business failure, a lavish bomb that hurts his credibility and standing amongst his peers.

In the movie, Orlando Bloom plays the character in question, the creator of a much hyped and poorly-received shoe that results in a nearly $1 billion loss.

In real life, a dissimilar but still ironic loss faced Crowe, whose film broke a box office, audience and film critics winning streak.

While “Elizabethtown” was said to have been shortened and re-cut after a famously disastrous premiere at the Toronto Film Festival, it was met with scorn by film journalists and a mostly dismissive response from audiences.

I suspect some of the negative reaction came from movie buffs who were still angry over Crowe’s off-putting but bold, occasionally brilliant “Vanilla Sky” (2001) becoming a sizable hit. Or, audiences simply were tired of the cheery, celebratory nature of Crowe’s films, one of which famously made “Show Me the Money!” the ubiquitous catch phrase of the late 20th century.

Decades removed from its release and being branded a flop, “Elizabethtown” deserves another look. In fact, for those scrambling to find a fresh idea for a Valentine’s Day date movie, here’s a romantic fantasy that celebrates life’s possibilities and the process of recouping after a failure.

Bloom’s Drew Baylor is introduced on his last day of work, meeting with his boss (a hilariously droll Alec Baldwin) informing him of the epic size of the company’s financial loss. The bad news continues, as Drew heads off to Kentucky upon learning his father passed away.

On the red eye flight to Louisville (which the film helpfully informs us is pronounced “lull-ville”), Drew meets Claire, played by Kirsten Dunst. Claire is chipper, to say the least, a refreshingly optimistic, upbeat presence whom Drew is initially put off by.

To the credit of the movie and Dunst’s enchanting performance, we’re also unsure of Claire at first. The character and Dunst’s take on her is both perfectly charming and a bit too much. It takes Drew, as well as the audience, some time to see just how much they need one another, as their courtship proceeds in ways that are quirky but not inevitable.

Crowe’s film is overwritten and persistently cute but still hearty, funny and really wonderful. The central love story clicks. So do tasty narrative side notes portraying “Chuck and Cindy: The Wedding” and a VHS tape with the power of taming the unruliest of children.

There’s also a sequence, half-told through montage, where we see what a great, long-into-the-night phone call between two people falling in love looks like. Anyone who has experienced the pleasure of being on one end of such a call (like I have) will connect to the emotions Crowe is going for in this wonderful set piece.

The screenplay and dialogue seem cobbled together from little ideas, memorable choices of words and individuals of great character Crowe must have encountered over the years. Some of the time, you can hear Crowe trying too hard but, in many instances, there is a true beauty in the dialogue.

It might sound like I’m letting this critically savaged film entirely off the hook, but I’m not. There is a late-in-the-movie set piece involving the funeral of Drew’s father. It features Susan Sarandon as Drew’s mother; her character and scenes should and could have been cut out of the movie.

I love Sarandon but her big scene, in which her eulogy for her late husband becomes performance art, a stand-up routine and a tap dance, is a disaster. The slapstick that caps this sequence is another poor choice.

The next time I watch this, I’m going to skip from Drew and Claire’s encounter in front of the hotel, past the funeral, and right into the climactic road trip.

About this road trip: it is wildly improbable and, if you think about how fast Claire puts it together for Drew, totally unbelievable. Still, everything in this movie is romanticized and larger than life. To put it in musical terms, “Elizabethtown” is more a glorious rock ballad from Lynyrd Skynyrd than a down-to-the-dirt Tom Waits tune.

I went with it and found it moving all the same.

“Elizabethtown” isn’t Crowe’s masterpiece, but he clearly wanted it to be. Bloom isn’t right for the role of Drew, a part Crowe had difficulty casting. He should have re-teamed with Tom Cruise a third time, since the role was so obviously written for him.

Still, Bloom doesn’t embarrass himself and he and Dunst reveal the inner life beneath the exteriors of their pleasant but guarded characters.

Crowe, like Drew, rebounded from this unsuccessful undertaking. As in “Jerry Maguire” (1996), still his best movie, Crowe loves his characters, which is a terrific quality in a screenwriter. Even more so than “Almost Famous” (2000), this is Crowe’s unabashed ode to love, music and the heartland, making for a truly American film.

For the true romantic and any lover of great American pop tunes, here’s a potent cinematic mix tape.

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This ‘Wuthering Heights’ Will Drive Purists Mad

Did anyone expect Emerald Fennell to deliver a note-for-note version of Emily Brontë’s “Wuthering Heights?”

Fennell’s short resume features salacious takes on MeToo (“Promising Young Woman”) and high society (“Saltburn”). It was inevitable she’d “re-imagine” the literary classic for all its worth.

That means Fennell’s “Wuthering Heights” isn’t for purists. Instead, it’s a beguiling peek at a passion that cannot be extinguished and the lives disrupted along the way.

Oh, and it’s a pretty steamy affair from a Hollywood uneasy with the raw sensuality seen back in the late ’80s/early ’90s.

You’ve been warned.

The story opens with a young Catherine Earnshaw (Charlotte Mellington) getting to know her family’s suddenly adopted son Heathcliff (Owen Cooper, “Adolescence”). Papa Earnshaw (Martin Clunes) may be a wobbly drunk, but he opens up his home to the lad.

That’s where his kindness starts and ends. Mr. Earnshaw treats the lad poorly, but this allows the unexpected siblings to spend time together.

Catherine and Heathcliff bond in ways beyond what you’d see in a three-camera family sitcom. And, by the time the adult Catherine is played by Margot Robbie, it’s clear that her character has complicated feelings for Heathcliff (Jacob Elordi).

Those smoky looks speak volumes. Scream, to be more accurate.

Fate and a class chasm stand in their way. A misunderstanding convinces Heathcliff to flee Wuthering Heights, the Earnshaws’ once regal home now falling into disrepair.

Meanwhile, Catherine accepts a marriage proposal from a bland but benevolent suitor (Shazad Latif), but it’s only a matter of time before Heathcliff returns.

And how.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Fennell’s sense of production design remains extravagant, and even the quietest scenes hum with visual splendor. The costumes! The lavish lifestyles! The camera-friendly leads who have chemistry to spare!

The latter makes “Wuthering Heights” a must-see for old-school romantics.

Robbie and Elordi bring heat to a story that trades nuance for animal magnetism. Fennell’s screenplay doesn’t hold back on withering character flaws, either.

Catherine appears kind and giving, but it doesn’t take much for her to bare her teeth. That’s particularly true given the passive aggressive moves by her family’s housekeeper, Nelly (Hong Chau, under-deployed).

Our heroine is downright sweet compared to Heathcliff. That’s especially true regarding his treatment of Isabella (Alison Oliver). She’s a secondary character who appears airlifted in from a “Fifty Shades of Grey” installment.

The film’s opening sequence lets us know this adaptation may teeter on the edge of camp. We hear someone moaning in what appears to be pleasure and hear the kind of creaking associated with a well-worn bed frame.

The reveal is quite different, letting Fennell warn us to adjust expectations. That’s truth in advertising.

This “Wuthering Heights” is aimed at those with little patience for period romances. Comic relief abounds, and over-the-top touches keep modern audiences engaged. 

The two-plus-hour running time is a mistake, but there isn’t a sequence that isn’t lovely to behold.

Fennell shrewdly sketches the class divide impeding this pulpy romance, but its woven expertly into the narrative. Other flourishes are more curious, once again keeping us off balance while the source material peeks out from the surface.

Your mileage may vary, but those willing to accept a story that’s merely influenced by a literary classic will come away entertained.

HiT or Miss: “Wuthering Heights” isn’t your father’s take on Emily Brontë’s classic yarn. Embrace that hard truth, and you’ll be swept away by what follows.

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‘Solo Mio’ Finds Laughter in Second Stab at Romance

They had us at Rome.

“Solo Mio,” a charming rom-com set in Italy’s capital, makes the most of the stunning locales. The sights! The music! The landscapes! The food!

The Everyman stood up at the altar!

That’s Kevin James, putting the shattered pieces of his heart back together with the help of a beguiling signora.

Sure, the elements here are far from fresh, and those pieces reassemble with alarming ease. James’ rom-com is still a delightful way to squander 90-odd minutes. Who couldn’t fall for that?

James stars as Matt, a working stiff who plots a romantic honeymoon with his schoolteacher fiancée (Julie Ann Emery) in Italy. Except his beloved never shows up to the church on time.

Distraught, Matt decides to go through the motions of his planned vacation, knowing he can’t get a refund on his investment.

Matt makes some new friends in the process, from the excitable Julian (Kim Coates) to the henpecked Neil  (Jonathan Roumie). Their significant others (Alyson Hannigan, Julie Cerda) are given too little screen time, a mistake given how the movie focuses on both love AND marriage.

They collectively distract and cheer Matt up, at least as much as anyone can, given what the poor fella just endured. It’s when Gia (Nicole Grimaudo), a local coffee shop owner, takes a shine to Matt that his heart starts to mend.

James co-wrote and co-produced “Solo Mio,” but it has a softness that many of the star’s fans might not expect. Matt is authentically shattered by the marriage disaster, and it’s plain to see he’s just a big lug looking for that special someone.

Even when an attractive woman throws herself at him early in the film he has little desire to proceed. You just wanna give him a hug and tell him brighter days lay ahead.

Or, keep visiting Gia’s coffee shop.

Grimaudo is almost too perfect here, a stunner who pursues Matt with a passion that threatens to derail the film’s wobbly reality. Matt might have ditched his bride for her even if she went through with the marriage ceremony.

We later learn more about Gia’s romantic woes. Plus, James makes it easier to imagine how she sees past his imperfections to find the decent soul within.

Some obstacles stand in their way, and none of them will come as a shock. It helps that James and Grimaudo have an unforced chemistry that makes even their idol chat feel sweet, not saccharine.

Other parts of “Solo Mio” slot into place with an efficiency that can rankle. Yes, rom-coms are all about formula, but sometimes the story elements need a little texture to make them pop on screen. As is, the gorgeous Italian scenery and songs do serious heavy lifting here.

Don’t be surprised if audiences Google, “Italian vacation” after seeing “Solo Mio.”

James built a career on his shlubby shtick, exemplified by two “Paul Blart” romps. He’s 60 now, and many may see him in a brand new light after “Solo Mio.” He’s the bruised Romeo we didn’t know we needed.

HiT or Miss: “Solo Mio” delivers the rom-com essentials, plus chemistry galore between our besotted leads.

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‘Dracula’ Pumps New Blood into Tired Vampire Template

We didn’t need another variation on Bram Stoker’s “Dracula.”

Director Luc Besson disagrees. His take on the vampire classic offers a strong romantic underpinning, a few nasty gargoyles and the sublime Christoph Waltz.

Turns out that’s just enough to bring “Dracula” back from the dead, even if the film’s tone flirts with camp on more than a few occasions.

The film opens with Dracula’s origin story, a sequence portraying the passion between a 15th-century prince (Caleb Landry Jones) and his wife Elisabeta (Zoë Bleu, daughter of Rosanna Arquette). Their lovemaking is interrupted by war, and when the prince can’t prevent her murder he lashes out at God for taking his beloved too soon.

Flash forward 400 years, and the prince is now an ageless vampire named Dracula in 19th century France. And, wouldn’t you know it, he looks oddly like the Gary Oldman version from Francis Ford Coppola’s “Dracula,” complete with a crazed hairstyle and wrinkled skin.

Yes, this “Dracula” takes bits and pieces from previous adaptations and the source material, drops them into a food processor and punches “Blend.”

RELATED: THE VERY BEST ’80s VAMPIRE MOVIES

Dracula hasn’t forgotten his original bride, and as fate would have it a look-alike exists in this time period. That’s Mina (Bleu, again), who is engaged to a land agent named Jonathan Harker (Ewns Abid).

But before Drac can sing, “reunited, and it feels so good,” an obsessive priest (Waltz) enters the picture. He knows all about vampires, and he’s just the man to stop Dracula’s romantic reunion.

The Stoker novel eventually enters the frame, but Besson refuses to rely on the source material. He has wackier plans in mind.

He introduces crudely animated gargoyles to serves as Dracula’s henchman, outlandish costumes and haughty dances that capture the era’s aristocratic bent. It’s alternately gothic and silly, a wobbly tone that takes some getting used to, but it’s mostly worth the bother.

And, yes, “Dracula” is the latest film to go on far too long. The material doesn’t require this much excess, and the romantic beats work best when tightly aligned with the genre essentials.

Blood. Violence. Typical vampire fare. You still wouldn’t bat an eye if Evil Ed made a cameo.

Besson has an eye for beautiful scenery, and he wrings the most out of a budget that seems far from blockbuster-level. Jones throws everything he has into the lead role, stripping away any sense of vanity or professional nuance.

It’s perfectly attuned to the story around him. Phew.

Every time you expect “Dracula” to stumble, there’s a clever sequence or rousing moment to push past your inner critic. It’s never clean and often exasperating, but it’s a true original that refuses to fall back on horror tics.

Yes, Jones’ vampire is a killer with a sizable body count. His enduring love for Elisabeta grounds the story in surprising ways. Besson emphasizes the love story to plead his own artistic case.

He’s right. Turns out we needed the umpteenth spin on Stoker’s classic after all.

HiT or Miss: “Dracula” teeters on kitsch more often than it should, but it’s never lacking in imagination or heart.

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‘Shelter’ Finds Statham Playing His Greatest Hits

Jason Statham’s aging action hero shtick is bulletproof.

He even looks like a bullet, his bald head aimed at the baddies. You know he’ll always find his target. But in recent years, his movies have given us just enough novelty to make the familiar feel … new.

New-ish is more accurate.

“Shelter” starts with a novel concept but settles into the Statham formula with crushing speed. A taut cast flounders through action movie cliches while director Ric Roman Waugh reminds us how good his fight choreography can be, and there’s enough of it to keep our attention.

The story suggests so much more than merely Statham on autopilot.

Statham stars as Michael Mason, a loner who drinks away his life as a lighthouse operator. Except the lighthouse is no longer functional, so isolation is his endgame. He even pushes away a teen girl named Jessie (a wonderful Bodhi Rae Breathnach) who tries to connect with him while delivering his weekly supplies.

A brutal storm forces Mason to save Jessie from drowning, but her only family connection drowns in the waves. He takes her into his home, but in the process of rehabbing her from a leg injury alerts old foes that he’s no longer off the grid.

You see, Mason is a former Special Forces agent who went rogue, and he’s been in hiding for his own safety after defying orders (for the best of reasons, natch). If you’d seen a half dozen Statham movies, you can sketch out the rest.

Bill Nighy classes up the joint as a duplicitous bureaucrat, while Naomi Ackie is under-utilized as the new MI6 chief who is far less evil than he in the spy game.

The film’s opening scenes are patient and stark, suggesting Mason’s past rendered him unable to function in society. Did he lose his family or suffer a trauma so severe that he had to withdraw from the world?

That might have led to a different, more engaging story.

Instead, Mason is soon on the run, meeting old allies and trying to stay one step ahead of Nighy’s goons. Except, and this is the wacky part, Mason is the best of the best, an elite killing machine who can take down a small army without suffering a scratch.

Yeah, that felt fresh when John Rambo ransacked Smalltown USA in 1982’s “First Blood,” but in 2026 it’s approaching eyeroll fodder.

And while we’re able to accept Mason as a killing machine, his increasingly illogical escapes push the Credibility Meter, even for a genre film.

The film’s big selling point is the Mason/Jessie bond. The young actress is engaging and raw, and her connection to Mason is palpable despite an anemic script.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The rest, of course, is Statham doing what he does best. He remains a flawless fighting machine, improvising against a wave of enemies with deadly intentions.

Sometimes.

He doesn’t always kill the goons out to erase him. He can’t decide if he’s a reluctant warrior or a vengeful killing machine. “Shelter” can’t, either. Sure, he spares hapless cops from his deadly wrath, but he must know some of the agents out for his blood have been misled.

Right?

Most of the action set pieces are perfectly fine but rote. A few are exceptional, including one battle with an unstoppable agent (Bryan Vigier) who essentially does the work Mason once did. That dynamic is another element with potential, but it’s mostly unexplored.

The two warriors share a moment late in the film that could have yielded something fascinating, but Waugh resorts to a typical resolution.

If this is your first Statham movie, “Shelter” will be both generic and engaging. For the actor’s fans, the action romp will quickly fade from memory while we wait for “The Beekeeper 2.”

HiT or Miss: “Shelter” finds Jason Statham taking out the trash, again, but you won’t pine for a sequel.

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‘Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die’ Overdoses on Originality

Sam Rockwell can do almost anything on screen, even make us believe he’s a man from the future wearing a gaudy Halloween costume.

“Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die” puts the Oscar-winner’s skills to the test in a story teeming with the absurd. It’s a bleak sci-fi comedy with several axes to grind, but the biggest one should be aimed at gonzo auteur Gore Verbinski.

Why did the director make a frothy social satire so darn long? Whatever fun we wring from this grab bag of sly gags, social commentary and culture war broadsides is muted when the saga barrels past the two-hour mark.

It might still be going on, for all we know.

An L.A. diner gets an unwelcome patron, a fellow dressed like a “Star Trek” castoff circa 1967. This Man from the Future (Rockwell) commandeers the diner with a not-so-disguised threat.

He needs volunteers to fight against a deadly foe or society is doomed. His garb hardly bespeaks the future. He looks like a homeless man who attempted an unwise TikTok challenge.

No one believes him at first. Would you?

But he has a series of bombs strapped to his chest and he won’t take “no” for an answer. So a few diner denizens join him in a quest that looks doomed from the start.

From there, Verbinski takes the “Weapons” route, stopping the action to focus on the lives of several volunteers. That includes Michael Pena and Zazie Beetz as substitute teachers at a school where smartphone-obsessed teens rule the roost.

Be afraid.

Haley Lu Richardson gets a close-up as a troubled 20-something who swiftly falls in love against all odds.

And, in the most heart-wrenching subplot, Juno Temple plays a mother who loses her son to a school shooting only to be reunited with him in short order.

The latter is … complicated. Creepy, even.

The film’s focus on school shootings seriously damages its bleak but whimsical tone. Yes, all this talk about the world as we know ending is dire, but watching a mother mourn for her child is specific and gut-wrenching.

Even worse, that subplot doesn’t necessarily gel with the other messages afoot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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“Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die” has plenty to say about gun violence, social media gone amok and, ultimately, artificial intelligence. Some of it plays out as wise and wonderful. Other times, the hectoring can be a bit much.

It’s painful to ding a movie this original, this willing to subvert our expectations. Rockwell keeps it all together, a Herculean task given the potpourri of themes, visual gags and characters.

Yet even he can’t save a film that doesn’t know what’s best for it. “Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die” keeps piling on the absurdities until we want to scream, “Enough! We get it!”

But no, Verbinski lacks any sense of restraint, so the giddy joy we felt in the first hour slowly seeps away. By the end, a dour twist on the film’s existing formula, you’ll pine for the manic nature of those first few scenes where everything seemed mysterious and new.

HiT or Miss: “Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die” is a glorious mashup of social commentary and sci-fi silliness that doesn’t know to leave well enough alone.

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