Misunderstood Masterpieces: The Fifth Element
Posted by Will Helm on 11.18.2003
…or, Science Fiction and the French: Mon Dieu!
Ah, French films. Lumiére, Godard, Truffaut . . . français et le cinéma go hand in hand, mais non? While early cinematic artists such as Griffith, Eisenstein, Chaplin, and Welles tested the boundaries of the medium, French filmmakers knocked those very same boundaries down in one fell swoop. That creative burst was New Wave cinema, the artistic movement with which Godard and Truffaut, as well as others, are associated. In films such as À bout de souffle and Les quatre cents coups, New Wave directors brought a vision to movie making rivaled perhaps only by Fellini and Bergman.
Of course, it’s not all wine and roses when it comes to Gallic films; French movies have a tendency to be – for lack of better terms – “French.” That is, they usually have vague, obtuse, or depressing endings. Artistic, oui; fun to watch, non. Therefore, I do not generally prefer French films; I long for a happy ending with my movies. As is usually the case, there is one glaring exception to my anti-French bias: Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s whimsical modern fairytale Le fabuleux destin d’Amélie Poulain, which most know better as Amélie. I was curious when I first heard about the film, rented it a year or so ago, and instantly fell in love with it. It’s not surprising, though; I’ve always been a bit of a fan of Jeunet’s work; I saw a good deal of Delicatessen on cable years and years ago and found the enchanting weirdness of it all terribly endearing. I still have yet to see La cité des enfants perdus, though. (I know, I know . . . bad columnist, bad!)
Concurrently with Jeunet’s career is the career of another fairly famous contemporary French director, Luc Besson. Besson first made a name for himself with the tightly plotted action piece La Femme Nikita. (In an odd bit of trivia, the French release of the film was merely titled Nikita while La Femme Nikita is the English title; yes, the English title is more French than the French title. Go figure.) Four years later, Besson made his major Hollywood debut with the critically acclaimed ersatz buddy film The Professional, starring the enigmatic Jean Reno and a very young Natalie Portman. Most recently, Besson fell from grace (no pun intended) on the U.S. scene with the big budget flop The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc in 1999. Tucked between his greatest success and his greatest failure is a bizarre and stylish science fiction flick titled The Fifth Element. Released in 1997, Le cinquième élément, as I like to call it, featured a fairly talented cast and costumes by outré designer Jean-Paul Gaultier. Is there any substance underneath the glossy coating? Hand me a scalpel and let’s take a look . . .
Just as so many science fiction epics before it, we begin at a mysterious temple in 1914 Egypt. Some foreign-sounding professor guy (John Bluthal) attempts to decipher some bizarre hieroglyphics while his assistant Billy (Luke Perry) sits nearby, bored out of his wits. I would guess he’s pining for Brenda, but I could be wrong. While Billy whines unmercifully, some priest guy, who may or may not be John Bennett, arrives and plans to poison the two archeologists for prying a little too deeply. His attempt is foiled when the alcoholic professor decides to switch the sullied water for grappa. In what may be a eau de vie-induced hallucination, a space ship lands just outside the temple. Aliens, which look remarkably like metallic potatoes, exit the craft and make their way into the temple looking for some “stones.” You know, in the middle of the desert, I’m sure there’s plenty of stones to go around; there’s no reason to bother people, silly aliens. The professor, possibly drunk, passes out at the site of the extraterrestrial tubers, but an incredulous Billy freaks out and shoots at one of the aliens. All Hell, of course, breaks loose, and the priest guy is left indebted to the aliens with the only key to the temple. I hate it when that happens.
Three hundred years later, somewhere in space, a starship encounters a round “thing.” The craft’s captain, Staedert (John Neville), contacts the Earth’s president, none other than Tommy “Tiny” Lister, Jr.! Who knew a man could be President and Zeus as well? Captain Staedert and President Lindbergh decide to shoot at the mysterious sphere, but Priest Vito Cornelius (Ian Holm), inheritor of the aliens’ legacy, objects. Of course, might wins over in this case, as the ship shoots the big ball of stuff but gets blown up unceremoniously for its efforts. And then Bruce Willis wakes up. Well, not really Bruce Willis, but his character, grubby ne’er-do-well Korben Dallas. He’s a gruff and tough cab driver who easily foils an early-morning mugging attempt with his preternatural knowledge of weaponry. Because that kind of stuff is good to know if you live in the city. Back in whatever the capital of Earth is, Vito Cornelius gives the president 48 hours to save the world . . . but not without help!
That help, of course, is in the form of the returning potato aliens. The have the solution to the problem: a superweapon capable of destroying the big ball of evil. Sadly, on the way to Earth, the potato ship is ambushed by a pair of starfighters piloted by cackling and seemingly masturbating bulldog aliens. The unwarranted attack, it appears, is the grand scheme of one Jean-Baptiste Emanuel Zorg (Gary Oldman), an evil guy of some kind or another. Thanks to technology, however, Zorg’s plan is somewhat foiled, as the government rebuilds the perfect being from the only available piece left intact from the bulldog aliens’ assault. And, guess what! The perfect being is a HOT CHICK (Milla Jovovich). Go figure. It’s not all perfect, though; much like women from other films we’ve seen here, she seems to have a penchant for gibberish and freaking out. Unwisely, General Munro (the late, great Brion James) decides it’s a good idea to patronize the bewildered HOT CHICK, so she busts out of her unbreakable cylinder and breaks through a wall, into the ductwork. Oops.
After evading the inept cops for a few minutes, the HOT CHICK climbs outside and walks around a high ledge of the building. She jumps off with a very graceful swan dive and fortunately lands in the back seat of Korben’s hack. Of course, she went through the roof of the taxi, but no one’s perfect . . . even a “perfect being.” After recovering, the HOT CHICK speaks rapidly in gibberish, some of which Korben actually seems to understand. Go figure, yet again. And then the still inept police arrive, but Korben, rebel that he is, decides to make a run for it and help the HOT CHICK. I have no doubts that his intentions are perfectly pure and sincere; any man would do that for a HOT CHICK clad only in ACE bandages. Later, after we learn that there is still McDonald’s in the future, Korben does some crazy flying to escape the ineffectual constabulary. In the aftermath, the HOT CHICK passes out. Uh-oh.
Later, Korben brings the HOT CHICK to Vito Cornelius’ apartment, as it seems that she supposedly has an appointment with him. Upon the HOT CHICK’s arrival, Vito then passes out. Minutes afterward, Korben attempts to steal a kiss from the unconscious HOT CHICK; she responds by grabbing a gun and holding it to his temple. They take this opportunity to get to know each other, because formal introductions are always more special at gunpoint. Either that, or it’s a very bizarre courtship ritual. Or both. There is always that possibility. Anyway, here we finally learn that the HOT CHICK has a name: Leeloo. Interesting, to say the least. Cornelius, upset with the strange flirting going on in his living room, hastily removes Korben from his domicile; Korben returns home just to wax poetic about Leeloo to his mechanic. Back at the harried clergyman’s apartment, Leeloo reads a computer encyclopedia and eats a lot.
Elsewhere, Zorg gives the bulldog aliens some fancy guns in return for the case containing the mysterious “stones.” Sadly, the case is empty; those potato aliens don’t trust humans very much. In a fit of rage, Zorg has Cornelius come in for a little consultation wherein the nefarious weapons developer explains the intricacies of technology. Then he chokes on a cherry that he randomly and seemingly absent-mindedly placed in his glass of water. Why in the world did he do that? Who does that? I’ve seen people with lemon and lime in their water, but never a cherry. Is it some sort of futuristic thing? Because there’ll be so many people from 300 years from now who will get back to me with that answer. Meanwhile, in space, the big evil thing absorbs multitudes of communications satellites while Right Arm (Tricky) eavesdrops on the president using a surveillance cockroach. I guess you could say that the president was being . . . bugged! Sorry about that one.
In the city, Korben has lunch with a kindly old Chinese man. He gets fired from his job, but gets a complementary meal because of it. And they say there’s no such thing as a free lunch! Then, to kill the buzz of the moment, Korben’s whiny mother calls; it seems that Korben has somehow won a contest to the lovely vacation resort of Fhloston, which also happens to be where the keeper of the “stones” will be. Of course, it seems that General Munro rigged the contest, as he requires the services of the one and only Major Korben Dallas (retired) to save the world. He shows up with a recruitment speech and a stand-in spouse for Korben . . . that lucky dog! Then, out of nowhere, Leeloo shows up and Korben stuffs the three military people into the refrigerator. Sadly, he does not tell them to “chill out.” Schwartzenegger would not be proud. Leeloo’s arrival is just a ruse, however, as Cornelius politely requests the tickets to Fhloston at gunpoint. And then, just because, the police arrive, but the bulldog aliens ambush them. Oops. In the commotion, Cornelius knocks out Korben and takes the tickets, planning to send his assistant David (Charlie Creed Miles, who looks remarkably like the NHL’s Matthew Barnaby) in Korben’s stead.
At the spaceport, Korben intercepts the very shaky David and Leeloo, and then a bunch of other people pretending to be Korben Dallas show up. On the ship to Fhloston, Korben meets the one, the only DJ Ruby Rhod (Chris Tucker), a flamboyant and obnoxious radio star (think the love child of Howard Stern and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy’s Fab Five). Just in case you were wondering about his orientation, just because his name is Ruby, our friendly disc jockey makes sure to overtly flirt with every available stewardess (who also happen to be fashion models, I would assume brought in with M. Gaultier). While all of this is going on, the big sphere of badness makes a phone call to Zorg, which makes Zorg leak chocolate syrup from his scalp. Hmm . . . I wonder if he knows ½-zombie Mel? He had yummy chocolatey filling as well. And that rhymed. How cool.
Upon arrival on Fhloston, a spontaneous luau breaks out. Cornelius, who stowed away on the spacecraft, is there as well. Good for him; maybe he can get some rest and relaxation while he’s at it. In the meantime, the very strange and mysterious keeper of the “stones,” Diva Plavalaguna (Maïwenn Le Besco), arrives; her manager (Peter Dunwell) has a little chat with the Fhloston representative Fog (Lee Evans) for reasons unrevealed to us. Maybe there are mice and/or Nathan Lane somewhere in the resort. Later that evening, Ruby has another show and he joins Korben on the way to the diva’s show. And, as if on cue, the bulldog aliens are present as well! I guess they’re a violent yet cultured race. That’s always nice to see. And, guess what! Zorg arrives at the cruise ship; maybe he likes opera too. Wouldn’t that be funny if that movie just broke down into everyone joining together to enjoy an operatic performance and living happily ever after because of their shared experience? Or not. Wow would that suck.
While the diva segues from regular opera to what can only be classified as “techno-opera,” Leeloo single-handedly pummels a multitude of bulldog aliens. Before she has a chance to revel in her success, Zorg arrives and, after shooting at Leeloo for what seems like an eternity, steals yet another case for the “stones.” Back in the concert hall, another division of bulldog aliens commandeer the ship. In the tumult, the diva gets shot; elsewhere, on Zorg’s personal ship, he finds out that the potato aliens are a shrewd bunch as the second case is empty as well! And where are the “stones,” you might be asking? Well, they’re actually inside the diva. And I don’t mean that figuratively . . . oh no. We couldn’t be that lucky. Of course, that would mean that we wouldn’t be treated to the sight of Korben reaching into the diva’s bullet wound to pull out the rather large “stones” one by one. Ugh. I did not ask for that, movie! That’s just icky.
As it seems that bulldog aliens are not very patient individuals, all Hell, as always, breaks out on the cruise ship. Korben, as he is wont to do, does his usual thing to attempt to save the passengers. There’s shooting and jumping and falling and tumbling; it’s like your average night at my house. Through it all, Ruby helps as only he can; he stays out of the way. In a random stateroom, the bulldog aliens take Cornelius as a hostage and Korben offers to negotiate a release. The terms of his deal: a bullet directly to the skull of the lead bulldog alien. That’ll teach ‘em. Not long afterwards, Korben rescues Leeloo from the horrifically claustrophobic ductwork. We also learn, through Ruby’s educated observation, that Zorg has left a bomb on the ship. Luckily, everyone escapes the doomed craft . . . everyone except for Zorg, that is, who returned to find the stones he covets so. I guess that he was literally hoist by his own petard, eh? Oh . . . that’s just a fancy way of saying he was blown up by his own bomb. Makes sense now, doesn’t it?
The heroes have little time to recover, as they must hurriedly transport the five elements (the four stones and Leeloo) to Egypt so that they can, you know, save the world. Simultaneously, the giant sinister space thing hurtles toward Earth at a breakneck pace. I guess that’s what happens when a ball gets desperate. Not that I would know, mind you. On the way to Egypt, Leeloo loads up the encyclopedia again and learns about war; all of a sudden, the movie turns all “French,” as she freaks out and turns depressive. At the temple, Cornelius sets up the stones in the appropriate places . . . and nothing happens. It turns out that, in a plot point borrowed from a Nintendo-era video game (or even Apple IIe-era), the stones must be activated with their corresponding element. Therefore, the heroes have to blow on the “wind” stone, pour water on the “water” stone, dump dirt on the “earth” stone, and set fire to the “fire” stone. In retrospect, it makes sense; I guess it’s hard to notice in the heat of the moment. All of the stones are activated and everything seems well good, except for the fifth element . . .
Which I bet you’re wondering about. Well, the fifth element is Leeloo, but everyone’s stumped as to how to activate her. May I suggest a Hitachi Magic Wand? Ah, there’s nothing like a vibrator joke. Now, let’s try to figure this out. In alchemy, the fifth element, or quintessence, was believed to be alcohol, so therefore the secret to saving the world would be a fifth of Jack. Sadly, it’s something far cheesier than a bottle of fine Kentucky sour mash; Korben just has to tell Leeloo that he loves her. Yes, LOVE is the fifth element. And LAME is that plot development. Just in the nick of time, Korben activates Leeloo and she shoots a beam of light directly into the big ball of wrath, freezing it as a second moon. Um . . . pardon my curiosity, but wouldn’t that catastrophically affect the tides and all, causing tsunamis and cataclysmic weather patterns and such? I’m just wondering. After much rejoicing, Korben’s mom talks to the president while Korben and Leeloo get it on under a black light. Hey! I didn’t know that Luc Besson was French for Joel Schumacher!
You know, this movie really isn’t THAT bad. For those of you who love special effects-laden films, The Fifth Element is visually stunning. For those who are interested in fashion, it’s quite interesting to see Gaultier’s take on the future of clothing (and it isn’t that shocking . . . odd, but not shocking). Speaking of which, is it too much to ask for an iridescent overcoat? You know that’ll be the cutting edge of style and all the rage in a few years. Speaking of style, though, it seems that, to the film’s detriment, it greatly outweighs the substance; it seems like a long way to go for the very simple message that love will conquer evil. There’s no clue regarding that moral, however, until the very end of the film, when we learn just what the fifth element really is. For all we know, until that point, alcohol may very well be the fifth element; either that or it could just be because I have a tendency to watch this movie while inebriated. That would explain why I entertain myself by reading the opening credits with a French accent. Damn I’m strange sometimes. Speaking of which, can someone please explain to me just why Zorg puts that cherry in his glass? Those things are bad for you.
Join me next week, when I explore bad plastic surgery and its effect on singers who attempt to act. Be there or be an evil sphere!
