My post last week on Starship Troopers’ fascism generated a lot of good debate in the comments. This site thrives on intelligent comments – as well as generous donations, hint hint – so we knew we’d hit on a rich lode of pop culture. And like every mining company, we exploited that lode for all it had.

The debate around Starship Troopers hinged on a few key questions:

1. Was Starship Troopers a good movie or a bad movie?
2. Re: question #1, was that Verhoeven’s intention or no?
3. Re: question #2, was that because Verhoeven was satirizing fascism or wallowing in it?
4. Re: question #3, was that because Verhoeven was true to the source (Heinlein’s novel) or deviated from it?

As you can see, this isn’t just a checklist of criticism. Each answer hinges on the one prior to it. The possibilities unfold like a space-time origami crane. How could each of the distinct viewpoints interact with each other and come to a consensus?

Fortunately, loyal commenter donn hit on a solution:

It seems like it’s almost time for a chart here…

Ladies and Gentlemen, loyal Overthinkers, I present to you the Four-Dimensional Matrix of Starship Troopers Criticism!

Here’s how to use the Four-Dimensional Matrix of Starship Troopers Criticism. Simply complete the following sentence:

Starship Troopers was [1], and that was [2] on Verhoeven’s part, because his [3] is [4]

[1] = “Awesome” or “Terrible”
[2] = “Intentional” or “Accidental”
[3] = “Satire of Fascism” or “Wallowing in Fascism”
[4] = “True to the Source” or “Deviates from the Source.”

For instance, it is Overthinking It’s position that Starship Troopers was Awesome, and that was Intentional on Verhoeven’s part, because his Satire of Fascism is True to the Source. He took the militarism in Heinlein’s novel just a nudge farther in order to turn it into painfully hilarious insight.

Roger Ebert would agree with me that Verhoeven intended a Satire of Fascism and that it was True to the Source. He cites Heinlein’s novel in his review. However, Ebert believes that Starship Troopers is Terrible, and that that was an Accident on Verhoeven’s part.

So Ebert’s views and mine are co-planar on the third and fourth dimension, but divergent on the first and second.

Verhoeven himself, meanwhile, would probably say that he made a deliberately Terrible movie. So Verhoeven and Overthinking It converge on the second, third and fourth planes but share no common points on the first.

Roger Ebert is an institution of the film industry. Not because of his particular genius (he gave Garfield: The Movie three stars), but because of his longevity. He’s been reviewing major releases for nearly thirty years. Looking back at a collection of his reviews is like looking into the history of film criticism at the end of the 20th Century.

Consider, for instance, his review of RoboCop:

Because the scene [where the OCP executive gets murdered] surprises us in a movie that seemed to be developing into a serious thriller, it puts us off guard. We’re no longer quite sure where “RoboCop” is going, and that’s one of the movie’s best qualities.

[...]

The broad outline of the plot develops along more or less standard thriller lines. But this is not a standard thriller. The director is Paul Verhoeven, the gifted Dutch filmmaker whose earlier credits include “Soldier of Orange” and “The Fourth Man.” His movies are not easily categorized. There is comedy in this movie, even slapstick comedy. There is romance. There is a certain amount of philosophy, centering on the question, What is a man? And there is pointed social satire, too, as the robocop takes on some of the attributes and some of the popular following of a Bernhard Goetz.

By way of comparison, here’s his review of Starship Troopers, a decade later:

“I hope our wisdom will grow with our power, and teach us, that the less we use our power the greater it will be.”

— Thomas Jefferson

–

“The spirit of enterprise, which characterizes the commercial part of America, has left no occasion of displaying itself unimproved.”

— Alexander Hamilton

–

“Excuse me, I have to go. Somewhere there is a crime happening.”

— Robocop

–

I had always intended for the second installment of this oldest and most waited-for (if not awaited) Overthinking It series to be about a character I have often described as the Quintessential American Tragic Hero: Alex Murphy, a.k.a. Robocop from the truly excellent Paul Verhoeven film of the same name. Then, of course, other things happened.

Well, this is VerhOeverthinking It week, and as Darren Aronofsky will hopefully showcase for us Robocop’s durability — both as a cinematic subject and as a cybernetic apparatus — so will I persevere in hewing to one of my earliest intentions on this site.

Let us venture into the glory, the flaws, the fall and the suffering of that bechromed bulwark of semivoluntary justice — the American who is Half Jeffersonian, Half Hamiltonian, All Cop.

Do you want to learn more? Well, dead or alive, you are coming with me –

[Hey, Overthinkers - enjoy this Verhoeverthinking It Week guest post from Diana Barnes-Brown]

When I started the initial Overthinking for my Paul Verhoeven Week Basic Instinct Guest Post, the thought process was more or less as follows:

Michael Douglas + crazy bi chick + Paul Verhoeven = Hollywood hates women! Let the crucifixions begin!

But lots of things are happening in Basic Instinct, and only one of them is misogyny – so why essentialize? Keep reading for a brief rundown of the more interesting plot points, some feminist issues as a jumping off place for (what I hope is) more subtle criticism, and of course the obligatory reference to vagina bugs/Starship Troopers.

Our Paul Verhoeven Theme Week continues with the ultimate “Total Recall” debate.

In case you needed a reminder, this man is now the Governor of California.

MELINA (overwhelmed): Quaid, I can’t believe it…It’s like a dream.

On hearing her words, Quaid’s expression turns grim and confused.

MELINA (CONT’D): What’s wrong?

QUAID

I just has a terrible thought…What is this is all a dream?

MELINA

Then kiss me quick…before you wake up.

Those are the last lines from “Total Recall.” Since those words were uttered and the final credits rolled, fans have been debating their meaning: was the whole thing after Quaid sits down for his Rekall session just a dream?

Matt: I like Showgirls. And I don’t mean I like it in the “so bad it’s good” way I like The Postman. I actually think Showgirls is a good movie. There, I said it.

Notice I didn’t say it was a GREAT movie. Certainly, it’s nobody’s favorite Paul Verhoeven flick (unless you grew up with a major crush on Jesse Spano). But you know what? I like it better than The Hollow Man.

Showgirls tells the story of Nomi Malone, a tough blond who hitchhikes into Vegas with nothing but a single suitcase (which immediately gets stolen). But she’s got two things nobody can take away: a great body, and a gift for dancing. Nomi starts out at the seediest strip club in town. But soon she breaks into the chorus of Goddess, a lavish stage show at a big casino. There, Nomi faces off with the queen bee, Cristal Connors, who either wants to befriend her, destroy her, or turn her into a sex toy.

Nomi may be a topless dancer, but she repeatedly insists she’s not a whore and she’ll never be like Cristal. But (surprise surprise) the higher she climbs, the more she becomes everything that once made her seethe. It’s a story as old as All About Eve, but with the sex jacked up to eleven. This is the most-expensive NC-17 rated film ever produced, and you will see more breasts than Frank Perdue.

It sounds fun, right? It IS fun, damnit. But for reasons I don’t fully understand, conventional wisdom firmly believes that this film is one of the worst of all time. It has an abysmal 14% fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes, and it won the un-coveted “Worst Movie of the Decade” award at the 2000 Razzie Awards. In fact, Showgirls has won more Razzies than any movie ever made. It’s a cinematic punching bag. And I don’t think it deserves it.

Overthinking Cowboy Bebop is on hiatus due to VerhOeverthinking It Week.  Don’t worry, it’ll be back soon!

Back in the days when I was a teenager, before I was a hipster and before I had a website, I used to divide movies by their goodness into two basic categories.

Judgements are subjective. If you loved Night at the Museum 2, you are entitled... to... your... Aghk! I can't say it!

This was simple and accurate, and served me well for many years.  But then I went off to college, where I contracted that most pervasive and untreatable of viral infections:  irony.  (And also plantar warts.  Kids! Wear flip-flops in the shower every time!)  Hardly a week went by in college where I didn’t get together with one group of friends or another to watch a terrible movie for the sole purpose of mocking it.  This confounded my system:  these movies were terrible, obviously, and yet they made me feel good.  Clearly I needed a new category:  the good-bad movie.  (I am not the first one to think of this, although I probably thought that I was at the time.  College students are like that.)  And having just taken Psych 101, I made up a new table which divided the movies that made me feel good into three crudely Freudian categories.