Originally published in 2010 at Forces of Geek
The Last Starfighter features an absolutely brilliant
and irresistible hook: Aliens use arcade games to recruit Earthlings to fight
in an intergalactic battle against a tyrannical oppressor. This is nothing shy
of genius. It also goes a long way toward explaining why this agreeable but
otherwise unremarkable little film has been remembered with such fondness by so
many viewers since its 1984 release.
Teenaged Alex (Lance Guest) lives with his overworked single
mom (Barbara Bosson) and his odious younger brother in a trailer park somewhere
in the desert. Alex considers his existence unsatisfactory in many ways, but
don’t be too quick to pity him: He’s comforted by his smoking-hot and
boundlessly supportive girlfriend, Maggie, who is played by the awesome
Catherine Mary Stewart; it’s to The Last Starfighter’s detriment that
Maggie is never allowed to run amuck with an assault rifle, a la Stewart’s
zombie-fighting heroine in the cult classic Night of the Comet.
(In case Stewart doesn’t provide sufficient geek cachet on
her own, sharp-eyed viewers can catch a glimpse of a wee Wil Wheaton cavorting
about the trailer park in a dialogue-free role as one of Alex’s brother’s
little friends.)
Alex looks to the sky and dreams, in sort of a nebulous way,
of leaving the trailer park and doing something remarkable with his life. Much
of The Last Starfighter adheres to the skeletal structure of the first Star
Wars film, and the similarities are present from the start: Tatooine was
almost certainly the trailer park of that galaxy far, far away, and there’s
more than a whiff of Mark Hamill about the wholesome and affable Guest. Rest
assured I mean this with affection: Alex makes for a sympathetic and likeable
Everyman protagonist.
Shortly after Alex breaks the high score on an arcade game
called Starfighter, he receives a visit from an intergalactic huckster named
Centauri (Robert Preston, doing a knowing riff on his iconic performance as
Harold Hill in The Music Man). Before Alex can ask too many questions,
Centauri bustles him off to the distant planet of Rylos, where, Alex learns, he
must use his arcade-honed piloting skills to defend the Frontier against the
evil invading forces of the Ko-Dan Empire, which is led by Xur, the treasonous
and power-mad son of the leader of the Starfighters.
(Hey, whenever you see the word “Starfighter,” go ahead and
mentally substitute “Jedi.” It’s easier that way).
As soon as Alex figures out he’s entirely likely to, like,
get killed in the battle, he balks. At Alex’s insistence, Centauri reluctantly
returns him to the trailer park. Alex’s absence hasn’t been missed: Centauri
left behind a shape-shifting android named Beta, who promptly assumed Alex’s
form, identity, and status as the object of Maggie’s affections.
Upon arriving back on Earth, Alex and Centauri are ambushed
by an alien assassin from the Ko-Dan Empire, who mortally wounds Centauri. Realizing
the alien menace will soon focus its attentions upon Earth, Alex returns to
Rylos, only to discover the Starfighter base has been wiped out in a surprise
attack.
Alex teams up with the only other surviving recruit, a
mild-mannered, scale-covered alien named Grig (Dan O’Herlihy), to fight against
the Ko-Dan. Most of the entire second half is sucked up by the ensuing space
battle. The Last Starfighter was one of the first films to extensively
use computer-generated imagery for the special effects, which is not an unmixed
blessing. No, of course the special effects haven’t held up well—in fact, they
look plenty awful from the vantage point of today—but there’s no sense in
mocking the filmmakers for not being a quarter of a century ahead of the curve.
In 1984, those effects were cutting-edge. Technology marches on, and sooner
than we think, audiences will be looking back and giggling at us for ever
rhapsodizing about the dazzling realism of Avatar’s alien world.
More to the point, this part of the film—which, alas, lasts
for a very long time—is not terribly riveting. As a viewer, nothing makes my
attention drift faster than a prolonged space battle or a lengthy car chase. Not
everyone shares this opinion, of course; there are those who will point to the
classic chase scene in The French Connection, or the chariot race in Ben-Hur,
or, hell, even the pod-racing scene in The Phantom Menace as the
pinnacle of filmic achievement. Speaking only for myself, however, watching
Alex attack the Ko-Dan Empire is akin peeking over someone’s shoulder while he
plays a video game. It soon becomes unbearable. As a small mercy, the space battle
is intercut with some lively scenes set back on Earth, where Beta, still
disguised as Alex, fends off: a) more alien attacks, and b) Maggie’s advances.
The Last Starfighter is a movie sorely in need of a
decent antagonist. At the risk of beating the Star Wars comparisons into
the ground, I’ll just point out that Darth Vader’s hands-on nature helped turn
him into one of the most effective and evocative villains in film history. In
the first film, Vader defeats Obi-Wan in one-on-one combat, then hops in a TIE
fighter to take on those pesky rebel fighters himself. He doesn’t delegate to
his minions—he goes in there and gets the job done. Compare this to Xur, who
remains tamely out of harm’s way for the entire movie. There’s potential buried
somewhere in the character—the idea of a son turning against his father and
almost causing the downfall of a galaxy certainly has the proper epic ring to
it—but keeping him distanced from the action limits his effectiveness as a
villain. If, say, Alex and Grig had landed on Xur’s mothership and had battled
him in person, it might have added a much-needed personal dimension to their
conflict.
(It, er, also might’ve tipped the scale from “loosely
inspired by the Star Wars mythos” to “shameless Star Wars
rip-off,” so maybe that wasn’t the best off-the-cuff example.)
Rumors persist about a possible upcoming sequel, which would
reunite Lance Guest with director Nick Castle and screenwriter Jonathan R.
Betuel. Under most circumstances, I find much-delayed sequels and/or remakes
unnecessary and unwanted; in this one instance, however, it doesn’t sound like
a terrible idea. The original film left plenty of room for exploration and
expansion of the Starfighter universe. Plus, this would provide a great
opportunity to bring those special effects into the new millennium.
The one element that gives me pause, however, is the
arcade-game conceit. Arcade games are a bygone relic of the 1980s, but at the
same time, they’re integral to the film’s mythology to an extent that home gaming
consoles could never replace. There’s something about the tactile sensation of
standing at an upright cabinet arcade game and staring at a monitor the size of
a windshield that lends credibility to the preposterous idea that maybe, just
maybe, this could be an alien society’s method of finding that one special
human who could be their salvation. More than any other element, this is why The
Last Starfighter has endured.
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