Forgotten Action Cinema: Oblivion



Imagine, if you will, a cheap, second-rate sound stage dressed to resemble a typical Old West-style township, complete with poorly constructed storefronts and several idiosyncratic ceiling fans mounted from a selection of elevated planes at various intervals up and down this impossibly familiar setting. However, instead of cowboys and Indians and hookers and gunslingers and a drunken George Takei roaming the streets, you have cowboys and Indians and hookers and empaths and aliens and a drunken George Takei spouting incredibly awful “Star Trek”-related puns to the stunning sound of suffocating silence. Is this skewed sci-fi scenario a delicious fever dream perpetrated by office-born illnesses, you ask? Not quite. In fact, all of this giggly nonsense can be found lurking within the folds of director Sam Irvin’s 1994 impossibly wonky Full Moon effort “Oblivion”, a story so monumentally epic that it became necessary to split the tale into two complete feature-length productions. Here’s the basic concept: A reptilian chap named Red Eye (Andrew Divoff) menaces the residents of a small town, whose only hope for survival lies in the hands of the dead sheriff’s pacifist son. General (read: cliche) western and sci-fi trappings apply. If Sergio Leone had been raised by Vulcans and ritualistically whipped with laser whips, his cinematic output may have looked something like this. Fun for what it is, I suppose, though I certainly wouldn’t scale large, craggy mountains trying to locate a copy. Unless, of course, you’re just jonesing for some new “Star Trek” jokes. But do you really need any more? Really?