Murdering the classics: a look back (in anger) at Rollerball

First of all, please be warned. This dissection in text will contain a lot of revealing plot information concerning both versions, 1975 and 2002, of Rollerball. In the 2002 case, I might be saving you a lot of agony in the process of trying to watch it without a few friends and a lot of chemical stimulants. In the 1975 case, it might actually ruin something worth a watch or two. Your discretion is advised, although even knowing everything that happens in the 1975 production in advance cannot make it any less compelling.

As I intimated in my previous post, there is a reason why Hollywood recycles its old ideas at a rate that seems to increase as time goes on and the oligopoly of the media continues to worsen. It is not to improve upon or even ignite nostalgia for the original film, but rather to remake the money that the original film made. Whilst there are genuinely good remakes out there, the majority are so stupendous in their mediocrity that they prompt genuine puzzlement at Hollywood’s surprise that returns on investment are declining sharply. And then there are the ones that are so incredibly, utterly bad that they prompt questions about whether the executive who green-lit the production was subsequently buried out in the Nevada desert somewhere. The 2002 production of Rollerball as directed by John McTiernan goes well beyond that. It achieves a level of outright imbecility that even trying to describe why it sucks so much to the proverbial Man From Mars is a fruitless exercise. In order to understand how bad it is and why, you just have to see it for yourself. It really is that awesomely terrible.

Language evolution, and language manipulation. A reflection.

We are all of us communicative creatures. Even the smallest, lowliest of other species on the planet we inhabit communicate with one another and attempt to communicate with us in varying ways. Indeed, about some species such as the bear, scientists even say that it is a matter of when, not if, they learn to communicate with our species in a manner that we can make sense of. That is a pretty sobering thought when you stop to consider that abstract and nuanced speech happens to be one of the few things that differentiate us from other species on this planet. But with that advantage also comes a heavy burden. As our language is the means by which we learn and teach others about our world, it means that our use of language and other communications can be one of the most effective means to control the minds of others. And as the saying goes, if you control man’s mind, you control man.