My goodness. And here I thought that there were no directors worse than Uwe Boll.
Imagine the number of decisions necessary to produce a motion picture. Conceptual approval. Scriptwriting. Dialogue editing. Casting. Set and prop design. Location selection. Acting. Timing. Cinematography. Lighting. Music. Sound and video editing. Direction.
Now imagine that every single one of those decisions was made wrong.
Result: Dracula 3000.
For a film supposedly set in the 2900s, this movie looks surprisingly like a cheap gangsta flick of the 1970's. The set is ridiculous for the period. The dialogue is atrocious. The timing of each scene is ludicrous. The acting is beyond abysmal. Everything stinks.
Let's just take props, for example. If you have a movie set on a space freighter built in 2900, how likely is it that it will have the exposed piping and hydraulic doors of a 1960's era oil tanker? What, technology hasn't changed in 900 years? The 'Professor' uses a standard tandy keyboard and Radio-Shack flipswitches to "reprogram" the computer. What, they haven't figured out voice control yet? Of course, the Prof is tethered to a wheelchair. With wheels. Even though, you know, they've got intergalactic hyperdrive...but apparently not even a motorized wheelchair, much less a floating one, or bionic legs or something. And apparently this freighter was carrying an intergalactic consignment of rosewood caskets. How convenient. Then there are the weapons -- the crew carry standard late 20th-century firearms. In a ship. In the vacuum of space, where one bullethole would kill them all. Nice planning there, prop department.
Oh, why go on.
Imagine the number of decisions necessary to produce a motion picture. Conceptual approval. Scriptwriting. Dialogue editing. Casting. Set and prop design. Location selection. Acting. Timing. Cinematography. Lighting. Music. Sound and video editing. Direction.
Now imagine that every single one of those decisions was made wrong.
Result: Dracula 3000.
For a film supposedly set in the 2900s, this movie looks surprisingly like a cheap gangsta flick of the 1970's. The set is ridiculous for the period. The dialogue is atrocious. The timing of each scene is ludicrous. The acting is beyond abysmal. Everything stinks.
Let's just take props, for example. If you have a movie set on a space freighter built in 2900, how likely is it that it will have the exposed piping and hydraulic doors of a 1960's era oil tanker? What, technology hasn't changed in 900 years? The 'Professor' uses a standard tandy keyboard and Radio-Shack flipswitches to "reprogram" the computer. What, they haven't figured out voice control yet? Of course, the Prof is tethered to a wheelchair. With wheels. Even though, you know, they've got intergalactic hyperdrive...but apparently not even a motorized wheelchair, much less a floating one, or bionic legs or something. And apparently this freighter was carrying an intergalactic consignment of rosewood caskets. How convenient. Then there are the weapons -- the crew carry standard late 20th-century firearms. In a ship. In the vacuum of space, where one bullethole would kill them all. Nice planning there, prop department.
Oh, why go on.