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The Lacuna Project: Movies I Wish I Could Erase from My Consciousness

In Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, distraught customers call upon the fictitious Lacuna Company to delete their unwanted painful memories of ex-lovers and dearly departed pets.

If such a company actually existed, I’d be first in line to have them wipe out all traces of a handful of movies so disruptive to the cinematic space-time continuum they undermine and irreparably tarnish the memories of the films from which they were inspired.

It did not escape my notice that all of these debacles are follow-ups to better movies—evidence that I’m willing to cut a bit more slack to any flick that isn’t a sequel, prequel, remake or reboot.

The most heinous examples below not only detract from their predecessors, they sometimes contradict them.

Yet far more astonishing is the fact that the most damning duds were created by the same filmmaker(s) responsible for the beloved hits that inspired them. 

Oh, how the mighty stumble.


The Godfather, Part III 
(1990; gap since predecessor: 16 years)

A hypothetical mind-wipe courtesy of Lacuna is an offer I certainly wouldn’t refuse. 22 years after its release, it’s still sad to think Francis Ford Coppola’s clout had sunk so low in the interim since Part II that he was virtually powerless to challenge the studio brass, who rejected his idea for a non-numerical title (The Death of Michael Corleone) and insisted on a premature Christmas 1990 release date that necessitated a terribly rushed production.

Given another few months to prepare, perhaps Coppola and co-screenwriter Mario Puzo would have had the chance to refine the script; maybe Robert Duvall could’ve been persuaded to return as consigliore Tom Hagen; and poor Winona Ryder might have had enough time to recuperate from her bout of exhaustion, sparing us all the dreadful performance of substitute non-actress Sofia Coppola in one of the film’s most pivotal roles.

Sure, I’d miss Andy Garcia’s fiery turn as Sonny Corleone’s illegitimate son—Part III’s most valuable embellishment. Alas, I would not miss Al Pacino’s ghastly spiked hair-do. Or George Hamilton’s feckless turn as the Tom Hagen surrogate. Or Talia Shire’s voracious, vampy scenery chomping.

Did I mention catatonic Sofia Coppola?

RoboCop 2
(1990; gap since predecessor: 3 years)

When original RoboCop visionary Paul Verhoeven passed on the inevitable sequel and opted instead to take on Total Recall, the director’s chair was filled by Empire Strikes Back helmer Irvin Kershner.

He may have guided the very best Star Wars episode, but he’s all thumbs for this wholly repugnant sequel.

Grim, dull, humorless and lacking the social satire and indelible characters of its predecessor, rarely has a follow-up faltered on so many levels.

No need to erase my memory of the lighter but equally lame PG-13 threequel, however; I forgot all about that one before the credits even rolled.

Star Trek V: The Final Frontier
(1989; gap since predecessor: 2.5 years) 

“Row, Row, Row Your Boat,” anyone? The previous two Treks were directed by Leonard “Spock” Nimoy. Part III wasn’t as riveting as its predecessor Wrath of Khan, but Part IV was a breezy delight and a box office smash.

Legend has it William “Kirk” Shatner was so adamant about showing up Nimoy and getting his own turn in the director’s seat for Part V that he threw a hissy fit to snag the gig.

The studio brass at Paramount relented, but had less faith in the relatively untried director than he did (he’d directed less than a dozen television episodes of, excuse me, T.J. Hooker). The budget was drastically shrunk—in inverse proportion to Shatner’s bulging belly.

An air of cheapness permeates this production. The finer visual effects are recycled from previous Treks, and the new stuff is bargain basement at best. Every dollar is up on the screen—all twelve of ’em; there are episodes of the original 1960s television series that have more spit and polish than this chintzy and murky installment. “I don’t want my pain taken away—I NEED my pain,” Kirk bellows to the film’s antagonist.

It’s a profound notion in a movie of admittedly provocative ideas about humanity, spirituality and the Starship Enterprise’s voyage to encounter “God” at the end of the universe.

But, no, I don’t need THIS much pain.

Superman IV: The Quest for Peace 
(1987; gap since predecessor: 4 years)

Scrappy mattes, fluttering black curtains on the moon, visible suspension wires. Yup, Superman IV boasts the most laughable “special” effects ever. E-V-E-R!

Though the noble nuclear disarmament plot is better than Part III, I’ll take that campy Richard Pryor episode over this zero-budget dud any day, if only for the priceless sequence in which Supes succumbs to some bad faux Kryptonite and turns into a belligerent, drunken Super Louse.

Yeah, Gene Hackman is a hoot returning as Lex Luthor. But Jon Cryer as his dimwitted nephew? Nuclear Man? Vancouver subbing for Metropolis? Super fail!

Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace
(1999; gap since predecessor: 16 years)

Midichlorians? Ancient prophecies? Whiny prepubescent angst? Immaculate Conception? Jar-Jar Binks?

WTF, George, WTF?

In fact, let Lacuna erase the aftershocks of the entire Prequel Trilogy and maybe even all memories of the Special Editions of the Original Trilogy and we’ll let bygones be bygones.

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