Dark Planet spends most of its time meandering through one crappy cliche post-apocalyptic plot point after another, most of them revolving around a hefty dose of fanfic-y horseshit about World War VI and some combination of radioactive poisonous super-bacteria or Zombie AIDS or nuclear mutant feral Jew bandits or whatever making Earth uninhabitable forever. So the two sides reach a shaky truce to go investigate the titular Dark Planet, which is actually humanity's last hope for survival. Is it so dark after all...or is it a light, in the darkness? Woah. Watch out, "Philosophy of The Matrix" book authors, there's a new game in town.
Anyway, all that's standing between humanity and all the sweet, sweet alien oxygen and weird, Shatnery sex-play we could ever want is a big-ass minefield which almost threatens to add some actual dramatic tension to the film. Crisis averted. The intense, high-stakes silent drifting through a minefield is brought to an abrupt end by the Roomba of Doom (Doomba? Doomba.) that comes to clean up someone's spilled mug of tea, which is probably the most exciting thing in the entire movie. The tea-spilling, that is; not the minefield thing:
Oh we're sorry, did you think we were kidding about the action zenith in this movie being some guy spilling his fucking tea?
Meanwhile, Tarzan (aka Val Buzzkilmer), who we think might technically be the protagonist, randomly slips in and out of some bizarre pseudo-accent (Australian) occasionally for no reason (the reason is bad acting) and has riveting PTSD flashbacks to his girlfriend Papa Johns Delivery Girl exploding because taking a romantic cruise directly into the deep cavernous tunnels of Mephisto's butthole is evidently kind of risky. Who knew? His other hobbies include making pouty faces and wearing an earring as hard as he fucking can.
Also, he saves all of humanity from the military-industrial complex forever by deploying the Benedict. And just what the hell is a Benedict, you ask? (Great question by the way). Turns out it's not just a delicious, hearty breakfast after all, but some kind of sinister satellite weapon that can blow up the universe or kill God or find Spock or something too! Sorry we kind of missed that part when time zoomed out and we had to float above ourselves watching our pitiful insectoid husks of bodies melt away in a blur of elapsed time like flowers in a cheesy car commercial.
Did we mention yet that this movie was made in 1997? Because it was. Made in 1997, that is. Not 1996, which is the year that Independence Day came out, but one year after that. No, Dark Planet was definitely the defining movie of 1997. The only other experience that even comes close to this shit is going fishing with Joe Pesci and Danny Glover. The movie or the actual experience, either way. Just remember boys and girls: You Can't Beat the Hole.
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Editor's Note: Due to a freak power outage, this obituary of Barbara Bush was written without the benefit of research. In order to pay our respects to this great woman in a timely fashion, we have decided to post this piece as-is. We hope you forgive any errors on our part.
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