A Sci-Fi Parody Flop Bridged The Gap Between E.T., War Of The Worlds, And Mars Attacks

Once E.T. made sci-fi cinema safe to leave your kids in front of again, Hollywood fell over itself to present extraterrestrials as the kind of cuddly, benign creatures you could quite happily enjoy a product placement fast food meal with. But unlike Mac and Me, Howard the Duck et al, Spaced Invaders made its alien beings malevolent, reckless, and with faces only a Martian momma could love.

Like many of its family-friendly counterparts, the cable TV staple was still slated on its 1990 release, with Roger Ebert slamming it as “appallingly unwatchable.” While it certainly can’t compete with the Amblin classics of the era, there’s plenty to admire about its ramshackle approach 35 years on, most notably its surprisingly meta hook which may well have given Galaxy Quest’s screenwriters an idea or two.

Spaced Invaders centers on the Civilian Asteroid Patrol, a five-strong crew of green, bulbous-headed misfits who pick up a distress signal from the Martian Armada deep in conflict with their deep space nemesis, the Arcturans. Unfortunately, they also manage to intercept an anniversary rebroadcast of The War of the Worlds, the Orson Welles radio dramatization which famously sparked a real-life mass panic.

The motley crew, which includes Jack Nicholson soundalike pilot Blaznee (Kevin Thompson), overeager Captain Bipto (body of Jimmy Briscoe, voice of Jeff Winkless) and smart alec Lieutenant Giggywig (Tommy Madden/Bruce Lanoil), are equally convinced what they’re hearing is true. Determined to help out with the supposed invasion, they subsequently redirect their spaceship to the Blue Planet in the hope of “kicking some Earthling butt.”

However, crash landing in the small Illinois town of Big Bean on Halloween, the four-feet invaders don’t quite command the fear they expected. In fact, the locals initially believe they’re simply trick or treaters who’ve spent an inordinate amount of time on their costumes: a couple are even happily chauffeured around the neighborhood by a carpooling mom.

The Martians’ dastardly intentions, though, are eventually revealed when they start wreaking havoc. Or try to, anyway. Indeed, unlike the instantly pulverizing villains in Mars Attacks, the invaders here are entirely incompetent. The plan to explode the nearby feed and grain silo, for example, only results in a downpour of free popcorn. And when they confront the community weaponizing their Donut of Destruction — essentially a pimped-up rubber ring –— the reaction isn’t abject terror but mild bemusement. “What the hell is that?” shouts one resident, echoing the audience at home.

Director and co-writer Patrick Read Johnson, who’d later helm an even more maligned PG-13 caper, Baby’s Day Out, gets plenty of comic mileage out of such nonsense. “We got a torqued-out digi-framus, our mega-spaz redundancy pile is on the blink, and it looks like we bruised our boo-boo,” notes Blaznee in just one amusing example of sci-fi gobbledygook. Spaced Invaders is filled with quotable zingers throughout, from Giggywig’s assessment of, “I'm telling you that ship has got the flight potential of a cement truck” to the brilliantly deadpan command of “Surrender peacefully so we can execute in orderly fashion.”

Johnson, who cited 1960s war satire The Russians Are Coming as his major source of inspiration, makes use of his VFX background, too. Indeed, his big-screen debut sure makes its relatively modest $3 million budget go a long way. Each alien boasts a striking distinctive look (baseball jacketed jock, German military officer) no doubt designed to ensnare the generation enraptured by the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Then there are the numerous inspired visual gags: see the sheer force in which the UFO suctions the elderly neighbors from their front porch, prompting gormless deputy Pillsbury (Fred Applegate) to issue multiple driving infractions (“No license, no registration, no plates, no headlights, no tail lights, no wheels, and I caught you going 3000 miles per hour”).

And it’s clear Johnson has an affection for the genre, throwing in numerous Easter eggs throughout. Played by future Jurassic Park star Ariana Richards, sheriff’s daughter Kathy is a sci-fi obsessive who spends half the film cosplaying as a Xenomorph. And as Wrenchmuller, the grouchy dog-owning farmer first alerted to the Martians’ world-conquering plot, Royal Dano is essentially asked to reprise his role in Killer Klowns from Outer Space.

Along with duck-outfitted new pal Brian (J.J. Anderson), it’s Richards who provides the heart of the film as one of the few locals sharp enough to sense the visitors’ otherworldly roots: as a kids film of the VHS era, she’s also required to make friends with a robot, the easily foldable “Scout-in-a-Can.” Of course, the story is always secondary to the slapstick, which perhaps explains why Ebert was so hostile and why its intended audience were left rolling in the aisles.

After all, this is a film whose final punchline involves the spacebound Martians’ — who after seeing the errors of their ways team up with the Earthlings to defeat their Enforcer Drone overlord — accidentally covering Wrenchmuller’s farm with their ship’s sewage. Sophisticated comedy this is not.

Yet Spaced Invaders never pretends to be. “But dad, they’re not bad, they’re just stupid,” Kathy succinctly summarizes in defense of her new hopelessly inept buddies. For what often plays out more like a series of goofy Saturday morning TV sketches than a coherent feature, “Not bad just stupid” is a fair assessment of the film itself.