By Scott Marks

MOON
Directed by Duncan Jones
Written by Nathan Parker
Starring: Sam Rockwell and the voice of Kevin Spacey
Rating: 3 ½ Stars out of 5

At last, a science fiction film we can all abide by. No excessive CGI work to give the illusion of storytelling, no midgets in garbage cans yielding light sabers and, most of all, no screenplay cobbled together from past films that’s aimed at a 9-year-old’s mentality.

Not that Duncan Jones’ “Moon” breaks a lot of new ground, which for me is part of the film’s appeal. It’s a good old-fashioned genre picture that owes a great deal of debt to such revered cult items as “Silent Running,” “Robinson Crusoe on Mars” and “2001: A Space Odyssey.”

Not unlike the first two above-mentioned films, “Moon” is pretty much a one man show. Sam Rockwell plays astronaut Sam Bell, a lunar miner who is just wrapping up a three-year gig harvesting Helium-3, Earth’s primary source of energy, on the lunar surface.

Needless to say, the isolation begins to wreak havoc in Sam’s mind. Cut off from live earthly transmissions, thanks to a busted-down satellite, Sam’s life is literally placed on taped delay. Sam’s health begins to rapidly decline and after a near-fatal accident he meets his doppelganger in the form of a younger, angrier version of himself.

“The Parent Trap” (Hayley, not Lindsay) and “The Patty Duke Show” (Patty, not Cathy) must have left an everlasting mark on my childhood psyche because I have forever been fascinated with Hollywood’s ability to enable one actor to simultaneously play two different characters in the same scene. Back in the Paleozoic era, special effects technicians would devise an imaginary vertical line down the center of the image, generally a door frame or wall divider, to separate the two characters. The actor would play one part on the left side of the frame. The scene would then be re-filmed, this time with only the right side of the image exposed. Once the film was developed it gave off the illusion that one actor was playing both roles.

No split screen work can touch David Cronenberg’s “Dead Ringers,” but “Moon” comes awfully close. Watching Sam play ping pong with his clone is techno-geek nirvana. The characters’ movements and the whizzing white ball are timed and matched to perfection. At one point, Right Side Sam decides to take his frustration out on the table by pushing it at his opposing self. It’s seamless; nothing in the frame loses perspective. I can’t wait for this to come out on DVD so I can go back and study the fluidity of this scene.

Since “2001,” computer and/or robot sidekicks have become de rigeur. Honestly, they got it right with the chimpanzee in “Robinson Crusoe on Mars.” Kevin Spacey voices Gerty, the base’s down-to-earth computer designed to babysit Sam. I expected more from Spacey than a bland, Hal 9000 knockoff.

For a film that gracefully and intelligently integrates technology into its narrative, there was one brilliant touch of character business that was taken too far. Don’t you love it when you spot a purposely, but unobtrusively placed object in the frame? For the first two-thirds of the movie, Gerty sports a Post-It affixed to her backside that reads “Kick Me.” You instinctively want to elbow the person next to you, point and whisper, “See that?” It’s a great throwaway gag that literally only works on the big screen. Even on a giant home monitor the sticker would be hard to spot. Perhaps that’s why director Duncan Jones feels the need to finally insert an enormous close-up so even people in the adjoining theater would notice it.

Sam Rockwell first appeared on my radar playing John Turturro’s loopy sidekick in “Box of Moonlight” (rent it tonight). He’s become an indispensable player in the current indie movie scene. Even in a comedy like “Choke,” Rockwell gives the impression of a very troubled man. The more he works, the darker the roles get. “Moon” offers his most challenging (and challenged) character to date and it’s arguably his best performance. In time he could prove to be the new Robert Ryan.

EMILIO
Written and Directed by Kim Jorgensen
Starring: Walter Perez and a cast of unknowns
Rating: 0 stars out of 5

There is a very special place in my heart for toxic cinema. As I always say, if you never watch junk, how do you know what good movies are?

Bad movies are an occupational hazard that I’ve developed a strong immunity to. I’m not referring to poorly made, uninspired schlock along the lines of “Disaster Movie” or the Oscar-baiting horrors of “Forrest Gump,” but films that are so bad they’re educational.

“Emilio” is a 102-minute crash course on how not to make a movie.

Just before the dawn of home video, Kim Jorgensen, first-time director of “Emilio,” founded Landmark Theatres as an independent art house chain specializing in repertory cinema. For the sake of disclosure, I used to manage Landmark’s Parkway Theatre in Chicago. Kim Jorgensen fired me.

It’s taken over 25 years, but the time has finally arrived for a certain former movie theater CEO to get his comeuppance. Kim Jorgensen, I dismiss you as a director.

Landmark showed the press “Emilio” in March with plans of premiering it at the Hillcrest in April. Almost immediately after, they pulled the play date and announced that it would be on the schedule this summer. Nonsense, I thought. If they passed on quality films like “Valentino: The Last Emperor” and “Treeless Mountain” surely they would walk away from something as truly rancid as “Emilio.”

The San Diego film community should fall down on their knees and praise Landmark for keeping their word. “Emilio” is a film that is perfect in every way. Perfectly awful.

Emilio’s (Walter Perez) little sister is kidnapped by a pimp and brought from Mexico to Los Angeles. Armed with just a photo of his sister’s abductor and his last name, Emilio makes a run for the border to find her. Actually, it’s more of a limp than a run. He makes it across the border in a shorter amount of time and with greater ease than it would take to drive from Normal Heights to Mission Valley.

I could ramble on about the plot, but why bother? It’s another knockoff of John Ford’s “The Searchers.” Besides, I’m in it for sheer technical ineptitude. At least 30% of the film is comprised of sloppy cutaway shots. You’ve heard of directors that fall in love with their images? Jorgensen is in love with his short ends. Every inch of footage he filmed appears to have made its way into the finished product.

This is a four camera shoot (only one of which holds tight focus) with only one tripod. It plays like a 1980s Golan-Globus production. It has been ages — perhaps the incomparably inept “Death Wish 3? — since I have witnessed anything so bad that it’s this compulsively watchable. There are shots in this movie that I swear appear to have been filmed during an earthquake.

This is a movie you must see on the big screen in order to enjoy the overwhelming visual degradation of the piece. It’s the sheer awfulness of the film making that gives this picture its hilarious abuse of power. Scenes cut from day to night and back again in an instant. The camera bobs and weaves more than Kate Hepburn as Grace Quigley. Visually, the frames hold more grain than a Holstein dairy farm. There are enough zooms and wasted pans to please even the most reverent Michael Winner fans and more headroom than an A frame.

In all honesty, Mr. Jorgensen had as much right to fire me as I do slamming his movie. I was in my early 20s and ran that theater like a Carnival Cruise Ship. Judging by his prowess as a revival house impresario, Kim Jorgensen was familiar with just about every monumental movie ever made. Didn’t he ever take the time to watch any of them?

Scott Marks was born and raised in some of the finest single screen movie theaters in Chicago. He moved to San Diego in 2000 and has never looked back. Scott authors the blog emulsioncompulsion.com and is co-host of KPBS-Radio’s Film Club of the Air. Please address any bouquets or brickbats to [email protected].