★★½
“The bigger they come…”
The first Giantess Attack! movie was an unexpected guilty pleasure: while obviously low budget, it had no pretensions and an undeniably goofy charm that, at least for me, helped paper over the cracks and microscopic resources. The end of it teased this very movie, and most of the main players have delivered on that promise. Can lightning strike twice? The answer is… not quite. Even at a crisp 67 minutes, it still feels like there is a lot of padding, with recycled footage and elements that go on, after their amusement value has expired. That said, it ends in another impressive giant battle, and still contains some genuinely amusing moments.
Frida (Riley) and Diedre (Tacosa) have split after the events of the first film: the latter has vowed never to become a giantess ever again, and has retreated to her “Fortress of Immeasurable Guilt” to build popiscle-stick models. Frida pays her a visit, and they end up in what can only be described as a cat-fight version of the famous brawl from They Live, over Diedre’s refusal to put on glasses. However, the main threat is the surviving Metaluna twin (Nguyen) from the first movie, who is plotting revenge on Earth. To that end, she kidnaps a scientist, miniaturizes him and forces him to make the mecha-fembot of the title, which goes on the rampage through LA. The only hope is our two heroines, though before they can save the city, the duo first need to reconcile.
There can’t be many movies which open with a Katey Sagal impersonator, but here’s one. It follows with a brutal parody of those cloying, guilt-ridden Sarah McLachlan ASPCA commercials, which is spot on, and resurfaces as a bit of a running joke thereafter. Then, however… the film kinda loses its direction and energy for much of the first half. The sequence where the scientist ends up in Metaluna’s lair, for example, is excruciatingly over-stretched. The same goes for Frida’s ascent up to Diedre’s fortress, where the sole element of humour is that she goes mountain-climbing in go-go boots. Some sequences definitely feel more aimed at the fetish crowd, of whom I am not one.
Once the robot is built – I confess, I did laugh at the supposed method of activation – and unleashed, things become a lot more fun. For we get what we came for, which is cheesy, OTT and completely ridiculous F-sized action. It’s a mix of model work, CGI and green-screen, all done with more enthusiasm than actual resources, yet remains the kind of film-making for which I have an odd affection. Much of Los Angeles is, indeed, destroyed, and our heroines are sentenced to 9,000 hours of community service as a result. Naturally, a third entry is teased, accompanied by the outrageously English accent of the eye-patch wearing “Nicky Fury”. Even if this sequel was a little weaker, I still cannot stop myself from looking forward to: Giantess Attack… In Space!
Dir: Jeff Leroy
Star: Tasha Tacosa, Rachel Riley, Christine Nguyen, Vlada Fox
A woman wakes up in a bedroom, with no knowledge of where she is, how she got there, or even who she is. Gradually, she (and the reader) find out the answers to at least some of those questions. Her name is Diya, and the bedroom is on Luna, which has now been settled and colonised by humanity. That’s the simple part. The rest? It’s complex. But is summary, she is a cyborg, created as part of a black budget research project by the NeuroDyne Corporation (Earth’s biggest employer – they basically own Iceland). An employee who had moral qualms about the scheme, smuggled Diya off-planet, stashing her with his blind sister Terry and a robot caregiver. But NeuroDyne aren’t letting their investment just walk away. 
In the second half of the 21st century, Japan closed its borders, after a schism between it and the rest of the world over the development of advanced androids by robotics pioneer Daiwa Heavy Industries, which the United Nations wanted stopped. For a decade no foreigner has been allowed in, and no-one knows what the country is now like. Then evidence arises that makes government agency SWORD embark on an “off the books” mission, to insert a team into Japan. It doesn’t go well, and before long the only member left active is Lt. Cdr. Vexille Serra (Kuroki). She discovers the country is now run by Daiwa, and things are… not what you’d expect. She links up with the head of the anti-Daiwa resistance, Maria (Matsuyuki). But time is running out for them, and the rebels are forced to mount a last-ditch attack on Daiwa’s island headquarters, in the hope of preventing a similar fate befalling the rest of the world.
Originally a series of three novels by Tow Ubukata, then a manga series published from 2009-12, I can only presume that something was lost in the translation to these three short (~65 minutes each) movies. Actually, make that just about everything. For after a promising first entry, I can’t think of a franchise that fell so completely off the rails. Okay, maybe The Matrix, with which this shares similar problems: taking itself far too seriously, and diverting into social commentary for which no-one was asking. I gave serious consideration to bailing and make this a rare “Did not finish,” which I’d not even bother writing about. But perhaps if my experience can serve as a warning to others, the tedium will not have been experienced in vain.
Intelligence without morality to govern it, is psychopathy. So what happens when you create an intelligent machine, but deliberately avoid installing any kind of moral compass? It’s an interesting idea for a film. Not that you’d know it from this unconvincing effort, which sucks the potential out of it. In this near-future – it’s set in 2024, close enough to now, no actual work is required on the part of the makers – androids have become part of everyday society in many roles. Crime boss Isaac Lynch (Restegar) orders technician Leo Cameron (West) to make one without a conscience, so that it can be used as an assassin, saving those pesky hitman fees. Only Leo crafts the robot, Maya (Guerra), in the image of his late wife. On the plus side: he gets to see his wife again. On the other hand: she’s an amoral killer. Didn’t think that through too well, did he?
Space freighter pilot Jason (Sheridan) has his craft hijacked, and is forced to crash-land it on a deserted planet. Blinded and alone, things look grim for him, until he’s fortunate enough to be found by android Reyna (Guzzetta). She’s the product of a maverick genius, who took refuge on the planet, but recently died: she needs Jason, as the systems which power her require a human presence in order to operate. And he needs her – in particular, her advanced combat skills – in order to protect him, both from the planet’s hostile fauna, and the hijacker’s pals, who have followed him down to its surface. Yet, is Reyna entirely trustworthy?
★★★★
That’s a shame, because this is a solid, well-made piece of science-fiction, which does a particularly good job of creating a massive, epic world on the cinema screen. Rodriguez has been squeezing every penny out of his budgets since El Mariachi, and while there may not be much apparent overlap between Alita with Shark Boy and Lava Girl, the latter franchise was excellent training for RR in meshing computer graphics with actors. Sin City also laid similar groundwork, and helped set up the director with the chance to go big or go home. And there’s no doubt: Rodriguez went big. This was my first cinema trip of 2019, and was fully justified.
And speaking of the end, one frequently-heard bit of criticism is that the ending is too “open,” apparently fishing for a sequel. I can’t say I felt that way at all. There’s certainly scope for more movies, apparently involving Alita going after the mysterious Nova. Yet the main thread of the film, involving Alita and Hugo, is definitively wrapped up. In comparison, say, to Marvel films, which almost inevitably have an in- or post-credit sequence blatantly signposting the next film, this felt conclusive. While there is perhaps need for a greater sense of escalation, or a bigger climax (that Motorball battle is trivial in its consequences), I’m largely baffled by complaints about the “lack of a genuine ending.”
