When DreamWorks Pictures and Warner Brothers teamed up to film H.G. Wells' pioneer pulp science fiction yarn "The Time Machine," they made it a family affair and hired the author's great-grandson Simon Wells to helm their $70-million plus movie. Previously, Wells directed two animated features: "Balto" (1995) and "The Prince of Egypt" (1998), so "The Time Machine" challenged him as his first attempt at a live-action outing. Not surprisingly, Simon says in his introduction to Ace Paperbacks' new edition of his great-grandfather's venerable novel, "The film we set out to make is not a verbatim recapitulation of the book. We did not intend it to be. I do not feel it is the duty of filmmakers to simply put books on film. That would seem to undermine both media." Apparently, something undermined Wells because 18 days before shooting wrapped, he succumbed to extreme exhaustion, and Gore Verbinski of "The Mexican" replaced him. Yes, "The Time Machine" surpasses the dreadful "Mexican." In fact, the new "Time Machine" depicts its subject matter with far greater verisimilitude than its Oscar winning forerunner. The lengthy, snail-like end credits reveal that scenarist John ("Gladiator," "Any Given Sunday," and "Bats") Logan drew on David Duncan's script from the original 1960 M-G-M epic, directed by George Pal, starring Rod Taylor, Yvette Mimieux, Alan Young, and Sebastian Cole. Indeed, Pal's version rather than the Victorian 1895 novel (serialized in 1894) inspired Wells and Logan.
Nevertheless, Wells & Logan wrought several changes that not only differentiate their mediocre remake from Wells' original text, but also from its juvenile cinematic predecessor. Indeed, the slickly done remake sets its sights much higher than the original movie but ascends to pretentious pinnacles without achieving a cathartic effect. Sadly, the 2002 version of "The Time Machine" qualifies as strictly second-hand hokum. Loyal Wells' readers may bristle at the liberties that the filmmakers have taken with the source material. First, they shift the story setting from London to New York City. I suspect they did so because an episode similar to the shoot-out in Central Park would never have occurred in England. Second, they give the protagonist of the novel a rather geeky name: Alexander Hartdegen. In the original, the hero was Herbert Wells. Third, they saddle him with a fiancée. In the novel, the hero lived as a bachelor with little interest in the opposite sex. After all, he pays matronly Mrs. Watchett to clean and cook for his intellectual pals and himself. Neither its opulently hallucinogenic computer-generated special effects nor its realistic looking 19th century production values can redeem this murky, moribund melodrama about the moral consequences of time travel. According to "The Time Machine," you cannot alter antiquity.
In 1899, an eccentric Columbia University Professor, Alexander Hartdegen (Guy Pierce of "Memento"), plans to wed his sweetheart Emma (Jessica Lange lookalike Sienna Guillory of "Love Actually"). After Alex gives Emma a ring, an armed assailant robs them. Alex tangles with him. During the fracas, the thief wounds Emma accidentally, and she dies in Alex's arms. Four years elapse as Alex toils in his laboratory to create a time machine so he can go back and save poor Emma. Although he prevents Emma's tragic murder, Alex fails to save her when a runaway carriage collides with her and kills her. Tastefully handled as this sequence and the previous one were, the effect borders on hilarity. Grief-stricken, Alex wants to learn if mankind can reverse the past. He hurtles his time machine and himself into the distant future. Civilization has atrophied into two primitive societies: the peaceful, cliff-dwelling Eloi that appear straight out of director Tim Burton's "Planet of the Apes" remake. When a beautiful, deeply-tanned Eloi dame Mara (Samantha Mumba of "Johnny Was") saves Alex, he falls for her and helps her people oppose the aggressive Morlocks.
Altogether, "The Time Machine" sticks to the basics of producer George Pal's opus, but Wells and Logan have dispensed with H.G. Wells' socialist commentary. The worst thing that Alex complains about here is bowing to the fashion dictates of the day and wearing a bowler hat. Meanwhile, "The Time Machine" departs even farther, including a disaster involving the Moon instead of a meteor and an explosive "Stargate" ending that obliterates the depraved Uber-Morlock adversary (a long-haired Jeremy Irons of "Dungeons & Dragons"). Irons relies on his scary white make-up and black lip-liner to churn up chills, but he doesn't appear long enough on screen to make much of an impact. The phony Morlocks make a mild impression as the dastards of this film. Stan Winston, who designed these evil creatures, blew it on these thugs. They have faces like wooden Hawaii masks. Indeed, they look cool when they kidnap their victims and descend like the Martians from "Invaders from Mars" (1953) into the earth. Not only have Wells and Logan turned the classic Wells' tale into a turgid tearjerker, but they also have concocted a laughable, anti-technology manifesto, too!
Nevertheless, Wells & Logan wrought several changes that not only differentiate their mediocre remake from Wells' original text, but also from its juvenile cinematic predecessor. Indeed, the slickly done remake sets its sights much higher than the original movie but ascends to pretentious pinnacles without achieving a cathartic effect. Sadly, the 2002 version of "The Time Machine" qualifies as strictly second-hand hokum. Loyal Wells' readers may bristle at the liberties that the filmmakers have taken with the source material. First, they shift the story setting from London to New York City. I suspect they did so because an episode similar to the shoot-out in Central Park would never have occurred in England. Second, they give the protagonist of the novel a rather geeky name: Alexander Hartdegen. In the original, the hero was Herbert Wells. Third, they saddle him with a fiancée. In the novel, the hero lived as a bachelor with little interest in the opposite sex. After all, he pays matronly Mrs. Watchett to clean and cook for his intellectual pals and himself. Neither its opulently hallucinogenic computer-generated special effects nor its realistic looking 19th century production values can redeem this murky, moribund melodrama about the moral consequences of time travel. According to "The Time Machine," you cannot alter antiquity.
In 1899, an eccentric Columbia University Professor, Alexander Hartdegen (Guy Pierce of "Memento"), plans to wed his sweetheart Emma (Jessica Lange lookalike Sienna Guillory of "Love Actually"). After Alex gives Emma a ring, an armed assailant robs them. Alex tangles with him. During the fracas, the thief wounds Emma accidentally, and she dies in Alex's arms. Four years elapse as Alex toils in his laboratory to create a time machine so he can go back and save poor Emma. Although he prevents Emma's tragic murder, Alex fails to save her when a runaway carriage collides with her and kills her. Tastefully handled as this sequence and the previous one were, the effect borders on hilarity. Grief-stricken, Alex wants to learn if mankind can reverse the past. He hurtles his time machine and himself into the distant future. Civilization has atrophied into two primitive societies: the peaceful, cliff-dwelling Eloi that appear straight out of director Tim Burton's "Planet of the Apes" remake. When a beautiful, deeply-tanned Eloi dame Mara (Samantha Mumba of "Johnny Was") saves Alex, he falls for her and helps her people oppose the aggressive Morlocks.
Altogether, "The Time Machine" sticks to the basics of producer George Pal's opus, but Wells and Logan have dispensed with H.G. Wells' socialist commentary. The worst thing that Alex complains about here is bowing to the fashion dictates of the day and wearing a bowler hat. Meanwhile, "The Time Machine" departs even farther, including a disaster involving the Moon instead of a meteor and an explosive "Stargate" ending that obliterates the depraved Uber-Morlock adversary (a long-haired Jeremy Irons of "Dungeons & Dragons"). Irons relies on his scary white make-up and black lip-liner to churn up chills, but he doesn't appear long enough on screen to make much of an impact. The phony Morlocks make a mild impression as the dastards of this film. Stan Winston, who designed these evil creatures, blew it on these thugs. They have faces like wooden Hawaii masks. Indeed, they look cool when they kidnap their victims and descend like the Martians from "Invaders from Mars" (1953) into the earth. Not only have Wells and Logan turned the classic Wells' tale into a turgid tearjerker, but they also have concocted a laughable, anti-technology manifesto, too!