Robot Revolution: The one Basil Poledouris couldn't save

 

 

Title: Cherry 2000

What Year?: 1985 (filming)/ 1988 (limited theatrical release)

Classification: Improbable Experiment/ Mashup

Rating: For Crying Out Loud!!! (1/4)

 

With this review, I’m continuing my survey of robot movies, and what is standing out is that I still haven’t covered several of the movies that made me think of this feature in the first place. This time around, I’m finally getting to one that I planned on all along. It’s a film that I could have long since fit into one of my other features, especially Space 1979 and No Good Very Bad Movies, but I have found it odd enough that I have continued to put it off until I could give it a more proper treatment. Now, I’m ready, and I’m not playing nice. I present Cherry 2000, a movie where actual humans die over a rich guy’s sex robot. And yes, they managed to waste Basil Poledouris in the process.

Our story begins with a middle/ upper class guy named Sam getting frisky with his wife/ partner while a dishwasher overflows. But it turns out the lady is a robot, and unlike actual robotic submarines built since the 1950s, she is not waterproof. After this tragic incident, only the bot’s brain is salvaged, so Sam tries to obtain a replacement body. However, it turns out that this is a post-apocalyptic future, and the only spares are in an abandoned warehouse in the territory of an actual warlord. The guy sets out on his quest, with the help of a rough and tough guide who also happens to be a very attractive woman. Bullets will fly, cars will chase, romantic tensions will rise, and it all comes down to… woman vs machine?

Cherry 2000 is a 1988 science fiction/ romantic drama film by producer Edward R. Pressman (see The Hand) and director Steve De Jarnatt, known as a writer for Strange Brew. The film starred David Andrews as Sam and Melanie Griffith as the guide “E”, with actress/ model Pamela Gidley as the bot Cherry and Tim Thomerson as the warlord Lester. The score was composed by Basil Poledouris (see the Starship Troopers and Conan the Destroyer soundtrack posts), following work with Pressman on the Conan franchise. The film was reportedly completed as early as 1985, but had its release repeatedly delayed. It received a limited US theatrical release in early 1988, which earned only a reported $14,000 box office against a $10M budget. It was released on VHS later in the same year, with possibly greater success. De Jarnatt directed one additional film, Miracle Mile, before returning to a career as a screenwriter and author. Pressman continued to produce films such as Masters of the Universe, Judge Dredd and The Island of Dr. Moreau, with his final film Daliland being released several months before his death in January 2023. Cherry 2000 is currently available on multiple digital platforms, including free streaming on Tubi.

For my experiences, this is a film I first heard of simply because it came up in the Poledouris filmography, and I never saw it mentioned spontaneously again until it was mentioned in correspondences related to this feature. As alluded, however, I had long had it in mind. Where it really stands in my skewed frame of reference is as the epitome of a category that only a reviewer could arrive at: Movies to play and half-watch while I’m working on something I deem more important. Needless to say, the characteristics of such things are unflattering but not exceptional, not good enough to make me want to give it my full attention, not bad enough to be actively annoying. (The Nest has been the archetypal example so far.) In the lead-in to this review, I gave it exactly that treatment. What came through all the more was that this is the kind of film that makes mediocrity far more offensive than actually “bad”.

Moving forward, most of what I could say would be on the same vein already stated. Outside of the bot, which is reduced to a Maguffin for the vast majority of the relatively slim running time, everything here is interchangeable and forgettable, which to me includes Griffith’s admittedly charming character. The toll is especially heavy on the score, which can make this absolutely painful. As I have commented (see my post on the Predator soundtracks), Poledouris is the one movie composer varied and creative enough that I have rarely if ever recognized his material during a viewing, but here, I finally recognized recurring cues (especially from Robocop) that are almost always far inferior to the works they tie into. In the midst of this, what becomes even more disappointing are the action scenes, which only made an impression with a surreal moment when the bad guys ride out on ATVs with bolted-on machine guns. What is truly baffling is that this film can’t even get to the “over the top”/ “so bad it’s good” level, which is the last issue one would expect from the people involved here. As a further corollary, the only fun to be had is from Thomerson as the truly unhinged warlord and his even more fractured submissive moll played by Cameron Milzer (apparently also in Chopper Chicks In Zombietown). This is a genuinely terrifying portrait of shared psychosis, and the source of many potential honorable mentions for “one scene”. (“No sandwich for him!”)

That leaves Cherry herself, and for all the noted limitations imposed by the story, she offers a fascinatingly nuanced picture of the domestic android and the implications and complications of human/ AI relationships. The one big “pro” is that the protagonist is actually developed and quite sympathetic. Whatever one makes of the bot and the perceived relationship, it’s quite clear that he views her as a person and feels real grief at the perceived loss. Of course, it’s also established that he has a lot of trouble relating to people not programmed to like him, which becomes an obstacle to sympathy when his quest starts getting real people killed. Even so, he retains enough moral judgment to avoid killing anyone who isn’t trying to kill him. It also has to be said that the real plot hole is why the warlord isn’t simply selling off the robots. When we do get a look at Cherry, what comes across is an entity that is neither anthropomorphic nor unsympathetic. There can be no doubt that she has no choice but to serve and satisfy her owner, yet it becomes evident that she at least has the benefit of emotional satisfaction from her master’s approval. There’s a somewhat cringey payoff when she tries going through her routines in the middle of a life-and-death battle, which could be evidence of rote programming but also a clear consequence of her lack of any frame of reference for the situation. Overall, it’s a picture of a dysfunctional relationship that isn’t necessarily “worse” than the human/ human pairs on screen. I can charitably allow that this point is reinforced when the bot and the moll connect in the epilogue, in a surreal moment that fits both characters. In here, however, it's too little, far too late.

That leaves the “one scene”, and I’m going with one of the few that has stayed in my mind across multiple viewings. Soon after the bot short-circuits, Sam’s friends take him to a bar in an effort to connect him with a real woman. Things quickly go awry as we see multiple interactions that are more transactional than romantic. It culminates with a meeting between a friend and an apparently interested lady, mediated by a third party (yes, that’s Lawrence Fishburne) who seems to have formal authority. The mediator spells out jarringly detailed terms for a prospective encounter. It’s a bizarre scenario fleshed out enough for the viewer to ask if this would be a viable alternative to our norms, at least until the lady brings up an “oral clause”. From there, things go south in a hurry. To me, it has always felt like nothing more or less than a glimpse of a far better film.

In closing, I have to reiterate that this one is just bad. It’s definitely the actual worst film to receive any consideration for this little future. In its own way, it’s among the worst movies I’ve ever watched, especially with “does this even count as a movie?” entries like Ingagi and Death Bed filtered out. By my usual refrain, I judge movies on a curve, and this is the kind that I find peculiarly insulting: It may not be “that bad”, but only because it is too polished to be inept and too unimaginative and unambitious to be offensive. What I find most telling is that even back then, the powers that be looked at this thing and effectively dumped it straight to the home video market. It’s the most fitting epitaph for a movie that squandered ideas, talent, and quite a bit of money. The one thing I’m happy for is that I can say I am done with this. Rest in pieces!

Image credit Metacritic.