Batalha no Espaço Estelar

WAR OF THE PLANETS begins with flashing, beeping, and a toy spaceship floating around. The ship's crew are wearing red swim caps, perhaps to keep space mold from growing between their ears. The ship's computer, known as WIZ, drones on in monotone fashion, much like an industrial fan.

Astronauts leap from ship to ship, probably trying to escape this movie's pull of death. Actions take place for no discernable reason. A man screams as though something is happening. Nope. WIZ blathers on.

Meanwhile, on Earth, some sort of crisis has developed. Mysterious signals, sounding like chipmunks caught in a storm drain are transmitted to the ship. WIZ gives orders. We discover that the ship has an onboard orgasmatron. Even this is boring.

Lasers flash! Sound effects whoop and bloop! Spaceships spin! WIZ yammers on! My God, this is the Marianas Trench of boredom! Crushing tedium destroying our minds! Pray for us all!

This movie is cinematic arthritis, causing agony with no hope of relief! We know that somewhere, someone said, "Oh yeah, I saw STAR WARS. I can make a movie just like that!". This is the film that George Lucas could have made, had his brain been turned into tuna salad.

This, my friends, is sub-sludge without mercy...

I am not a fan of the idea that a movie can suck so much and be so terrible that it can, or should, be perceived in any way that which is positive but, at least in description this movie is an exception, fore this movie is so STUPID that it is "a movie almost awesome in its badness", to borrow a phrase! They actually sift music from other films, horror movies & documentaries mostly, & remade it with something that sounds like a 1950s synthesizer...to add to the soundtrack, which is probably the best thing about the film ironically...

The ending is actually far more climactic than I would even have imagined giving them credit for & is probably the 2nd best thing about the film, and I even concede that the women do look good in their figure-hugging outfits, but (...it's not like they get naked!), nothing is redeemed & there is & shall forever never be no forgiveness for this excruciatingly lame-ass sh!t-pile!!

I just finished watching this...and I will be honest...I'd seen a few minutes of it browsing a Digiview DVD compilation...I truly knew from just that few minutes this was probably a stinker, but I watched it because the actresses had tight uniforms. Yes, I know...that's terrible...but I couldn't help myself. Truly, the story was a wash out and watching the girls really was the motivation. I will say that actor, John Richardson was not as bad as everyone else. Too bad he didn't get a film role that he could shine. The ending of the movie is reminiscent of a twilight zone twist, which was a nice touch for those who suffer through it. Directing is almost as good as a high school film production, and a blind grandmother could have done much better cinematography. I read here that a reviewer wrote the special effects were as cruddy as 1950's sci-fi, and I say shame on you for saying that...they not nearly as good as Flash Gordon or War of the Worlds. On the other hand, they are as good as that stuff I just left in the toilet. But seriously, I can't even say that you have to see it to believe it, because in all fairness, you wouldn't believe it. Sadly, this film has been preserved electronically for all to see.

In 1977, Alfonso Breschia grabbed a video camera, some torches, some of his mates, and a moog and went to his garage to make a film of the future where multi-cultural crews battle space threats, technologically advanced robots are smart-arses, and Glaswegian astronauts turn into slime drooling monsters!

All of Alfonso Breschia's space films have a terrible reputation, and that's because they are terrible low budget affairs full of people spouting scientific bollocks while ear piercing noises and flashing images assault the senses. This one however actually manages to transcend all this to be entertaining and awful at the same time. Let's get to the plot and explain.

For starts, John Richardson is a hot-headed space captain who hates the fact that everyone relies on a computer called the Wiz to do the thinking for them. In fact, he's not a fan of that simulated sex machine Malisa Longo uses either. He'd rather let his balls and his brain do the thinking, so when Earth receives a signal from outer space, either his brains or his balls act quickly and attack two aggressive ships that fly towards his ship. This turns out to be a good idea.

On this mysterious planet, the crew find an archway that teleports them...somewhere else where they are attacked by a violent indestructible robot who has been murdering the silver-coated alien inhabitants. We find out that there's this huge arrogant computer that ended up in control of everything, likes killing things for fun, and wants to take over Earth. That sounds like a job for robot hating John!

In this crazy world were people have to awkwardly wave their hands behind their heads to close doors instead of using door handles, alarms flash like 90's raves and scream insanely, and astronauts sing 'I belong to Glasgow', how does one distinguish who is human and who has been taken over by an alien computer? Strangely, this film turns into a horror at the last twenty minutes, which is probably why I rate this one over Breschia's other sci-fi trash crap.

Weirdly, this film uses the 'blast the alien out of the airlock' bit before Alien! You're a trailblazer, Breschia!

The Italians are at it again. Crippled by an incoherent script, this Italian-made space opus is lost in the vacuum of space. The title, minus the word "Cosmos," was used a decade earlier during the very 'mod' 60's. The runaway satellite in that film was child's play compared to this leaky albatross. This film deals, badly, with a more lethal out-of-control planet. The man in charge, the director, had to have been on a three-day coffee break. The extras rush and jump around in a swirl of confusion. Some high school productions are more organized. One actor pronounces the word data as "da-da." When the landing party finds living beings on the planet, they all resemble an army of metallic "Mr. Cleans." Crazy. A few of the female crew members are painted into their threads. And the ridiculous skull caps are definite turn-offs. Future technology is represented by scratchy video monitors and blinking boxes of gyros and lights. Organ music saturates the soundtrack with grunts and groans, piped in from a very dark place. The final showdown pits a rabid crewman against the lead Mr. Clean. Both souls are jettisoned out an air lock. Have a nice trip.