Review of Superman IV: The Quest for Peace (1987) by Xcv V — 01 Apr 2011

Superman IV: The Quest for Peace is what you get when the best of intentions go horribly, horribly wrong. Looking at this fetid pile of cheese today, you might not realize that it was actually an attempt to restore the integrity of the Superman films to their pre-Richard Pryor levels; after the bland disappointment of Superman III and the incomprehensible wretchedness of Supergirl, the Salkinds optioned the rights to make the next Superman movie to Cannon Films (the guys who brought us the Sylvester Stallone arm-wrestling vehicle Over The Top and the Death Wish sequels), who wanted to return the franchise to the quality of the first two movies. To that end, they hired back all the principle cast members from the first film- even Gene Hackman, which shows that they were actually trying to make a quality picture with this (well, either that, or it shows just how hard up for work Gene was in the late eighties). Unfortunately, Cannon had something like thirty movies in production at the same time as Superman IV, and when they lost money on a particularly pricey flop, they ended up cutting Superman's budget- in half. The result? An unintentionally hilarious catastrophe of a movie with Buick-sized plot holes, special effects that wouldn't make the grade in a toy commercial, and probably the most ridiculous supervillain in history. This is so bad at times that you'd swear you were watching a Mexican knock-off or something- a feeling that isn't helped when the filmmakers repeatedly steal whole story points from the first two movies (and not even the good ones, either- that green deus-ex crystal makes even less sense here than it did in Superman II, because HE ALREADY USED IT IN SUPERMAN II). What's ironic is that, while it's astonishing to realize just how abysmally awful this film is on every level of production, that's exactly the reason why it's actually fun to watch- in fact, I'd go so far as to say it's much more entertaining than Superman III, because at least I wasn't bored to tears by watching it! And strangely, it does have the odd moment of, dare I say it, QUALITY- Superman's address to the U.N. was a nice scene, and Hackman's Lex Luthor is (for the most part) just as witty as ever (and he earns points here for coming up with a plan that DOESN'T involve real estate). But ultimately, Superman IV is the Batman and Robin of the Man of Steel's film franchise, a film so bad that even Christopher Reeve couldn't keep it up in the air.

Superman IV is about as dated as a film can be without somehow involving time travel. Set during the height (well, more like the edge of the precipitous drop-off) of the Cold War, the film sees the Man of Steel coming to grips with a dire crisis of faith after a young boy (wait, did I say boy? I meant annoying twerp) sends him a letter asking him to single-handedly put an end to the threat of nuclear warfare. After quite sensibly telling the little turd that he's not God and that he has no right to impose his will on the nations of the world, Superman becomes the focus of a P.R. shitstorm orchestrated by an unscrupulous mogul who's bought out the Daily Planet; fed up from being endlessly guilted by the media and having pointlessly revealed his identity to Lois again (only to remove all memory of it with his brain-damaging super-kiss), Supes suddenly changes his tune and decides to take matters into his own hands by ridding the planet of all nuclear weapons. Unfortunately, this decision dovetails right into the newest scheme orchestrated by Lex Luthor, who's just escaped from prison with the help of his wretched eighties-teen-stereotype nephew, Lenny; Luthor, anxious to move in on the nuclear armament racket, somehow uses Superman's tactic of tossing nuclear missiles into the sun as a springboard to genetically engineer a twisted mutant doppelganger of the Man of Steel, complete with teased hair and retractable press-on fingernails. This solar-powered radioactive abomination, cleverly dubbed Nuclear Man, is somehow highly toxic to the Last Son of Krypton, to the point that even the mildest scratch causes Superman to come down with terminal cancer (but thank God he had that deus-ex-machina crystal handy... otherwise, the writers would've had to think of a logical way to get the hero out of that predicament). How can Superman overcome a being who may be more powerful than even he? Spoiler alert: he pushes the moon out of orbit to block out the sun, an action that would certainly kill every living thing on Earth due to the massive shifts in tidal forces and weather patterns that would come about as a consequence.

Returning for his last go-round in the red boots is the irreplaceable Christopher Reeve, who, after three films of perfection, finally hits a crass note as the Man of Steel. Superman, once a smiling figure of fantasy and adventure, is reduced to little more than a P.S.A.-spewing dud here, both as Clark Kent and his alter-ego; a few moments of decency shine through (regardless of how ridiculous it is, I still love Supes' speech to the U.N.), but for the most part, it's clear that Reeve, who was well aware of the budgetary problems plaguing the production, finally just gave up on the character (or, at the very least, the movie). And he's not the only one going through the motions. Because the producers insisted on bringing back the entire original cast, the film is loaded with actors who, frankly, have gotten a little too old for their parts. Margot Kidder's smoking habit prematurely aged her a good twenty years by the time she came back for her last bow as Lois Lane, and Marc McClure looks like a joke running around in a bow tie well into his thirties as Jimmy Olsen; Jackie Cooper's Perry White seems more like a disgruntled senior citizen than a gruff newspaper editor. The only person who comes out of this relatively unscathed is Gene Hackman as Lex Luthor, whose caustic wit is neither dependent on a budget nor hindered by age or embitterment. Then you have the rookies to the franchise, younger starts meant to bring some new blood into the story who largely turn out to be anemic. Mariel Hemingway plays spoiled brat Lacy Warfield, daughter of the new publisher of the Daily Planet, whose giant eyeglasses and protruding shoulder pads steal the focus from her in every scene; why this vapid pre-Paris Hilton socialite falls in love with Clark Kent of all people is anybody's guess, but I'm guessing it was just to give the audience a romantic interest who's a little easier on the eyes than walking corpse Margot Kidder. Jon Cryer makes for the second egregiously inappropriate addition to the Superman film repertoire (after Richard Pryor) as Lenny Luthor, Lex's buffoonish nephew and apparently an apprenticing henchman. Cryer's surfer-dude character ensures that even the Hackman scenes are insufferable and stupid, robbing the film of even its smallest saving grace. And finally, there's Nuclear Man- arguably the single most laughably ridiculous supervillain in cinema history. Played with gusto by Mark Pillow (with a name like that, he's got to be a badass!), Nuclear Man is hilarious, coming across like a child pretending to be Godzilla: every time he shows up anywhere, the first thing he does is roar. Literally. He tilts his head back and goes "RRRRRHOOAAAARRRGH!!!" For some reason, every one of his lines is dubbed over by Gene Hackman (which I'm sure made sense in the twisted mind of the director), but that only makes it funnier when he blurts out ridiculous declarative statements like "If you will not tell me, I will hurt people!" Seriously, you have to see this guy to believe it- he is cheesy beyond words.

The script by Mark Rosenthal and Lawrence Konner is... well, honestly, I can't make an informed judgment about the script, because this movie has been so mercilessly hacked to pieces in the editing room that it wouldn't make any sense even if the script was f%$#ing Shakespeare. The film was cut down from 134 minutes to 90 minutes after a disastrous test screening, the producers wisely deducing that it wasn't the '50s-era special effects that killed the movie, but rather any semblance of intelligible linear storytelling. Going by what's left (and the commentary track by Rosenthal), the script seems almost engaging, and its heart is in the right place, but it's suffering from a bad case of "unimaginably stupid"- Superman suddenly has telekinetic eye-lazers, not a single country objects to Superman's war on nuclear weapons (despite the fact that they keep launching them), a mini-"supercomputer" weaves a whole costume from tiny scraps of cloth... the list of intellectual offenses goes on and on. And don't even get me started on the dialogue, which borders on being a genuine crime against humanity ("Betrayed... betrayed... BETRAYED!!!", "If you will not tell me, I will hurt people!"). Director Sidney J. Furie takes this already questionable material and runs it into the ground, throwing in a complete disregard for physics or the laws of nature for good measure. In probably the funniest moment of the film, Nuclear Man flies Lacy Warfield up into orbit before powering down as Superman blocks out the sun; Lacy, clinging onto Nuclear Man's arm for dear life, looks down to see Earth floating several thousand miles away. How is she still breathing?!? Better yet, why hasn't she explosively decompressed all over Mark Pillow? Probably for the same reason we can hear Superman talking to Russian cosmonauts in orbit in the film's opening- no one making this movie gives a shit. The special effects are... ugh. Bad compositing, endlessly recycled flying shots, visible wires and curtain backdrops- you name a special effects f%$#-up, and this film's got it. At least the sound editing is decent (I actually really like the roaring sound they cue up every time Mark Pillow makes a jackass out of himself), and the score is a hidden gem amidst a pile of crap; composed by Alexander Courage (the guy who did the original Star Trek T.V. theme) and yet again based on the themes from the original film, the score actually features three all-new themes composed by John Williams himself, including the kick-ass Nuclear Man theme! The character himself may suck, but his leitmotif is hardcore!

After Rocky IV, The Quest for Peace is probably the most inappropriate Cold War commentary film to come out of Hollywood. It radically simplifies the nature of the conflict to allow its main character to get a handle on it, when, in reality, the Cold War and the factors that contributed to it were things that would be far beyond the capabilities of even a Superman to fix. Trying to force the two together only succeeds in making Superman look antiquated and naive, a relic of simpler times proven ineffectual in the face of the (relatively) modern world. But Superman IV didn't bomb because the concept was ill-conceived, or because the philosophy behind it is unsound; no, Superman IV bombed because it's a disappointment on every level of production. Coming after the double-whammy of Superman III and Supergirl, this film could very well have single-handedly killed off the concept of the comic book movie for all time- it takes utter stupidity to masterful new levels, robbing the title character of every ounce of credibility and effectively kneecapping the Superman franchise for a good nineteen-plus years (thank God Batman showed up in '89 to keep the genre alive). The performances are lackluster, the story is idiotic, and the special effects are downright Roger Corman-esq; this movie is so bad, in fact, that it's actually freaking hilarious! I wouldn't say that it's as terrible as Troll 2, maybe, but The Quest for Peace easily falls into the category of "so-bad-it's-good" cinema, so while it might seem kind of odd to do so after the bashing I just gave it, I'd highly recommend this movie to anyone who hasn't seen it. It's crazy, stupid, cheesy fun from beginning to end- as long as you aren't nursing a pathological fear of press-on nails, that is.