To the Moon Over "John Carter"

It's easy to point out that, since I have several dogs in this hunt–namely I work for Disney and also wrote the *ahem* New York Times Bestseller graphic novel prequel, "World of Mars," that I cannot approach the newly released "John Carter" in any sort of unbiased way. And that's true. But not for the obvious reasons.

I'm going to be biased because when I was ten years old, throwing myself eagerly into the Edgar Rice Burroughs tales of Barsoom, there were nights–especially at the end of some VERY lousy days–where I would stand in the backyard and try to find the glittering red spot that was Mars against the blackened sky. And I would look up longingly, just as Carter had, and throw my arms wide, and wish desperately that I could leave my mortal body behind and find myself on Mars. There I would pal around with a four armed green guy, and a calot would be my pet, and I'd have a naked Martian girlfriend (yes, I thought that way at age ten. What can I say? I was precocious. Don't tell ME gender preference isn't ingrained.)

So when I sat down in the darkened and actually impressively crowded (for a 12:20 in the afternoon show) theater, I murmured to myself repeatedly right before the film began, "Please be good, please be good, please be good." Why? Because "please don't suck" just wasn't gonna get it done. It had to be good. Granted, I have some insight: I'd read the script. Then again, to some degree, anyone who's read the books has in some respect read the script. And as the French used to say while gathered around the guillotine during the Revolution, It's all in the execution.

Especially in this case, since people have been waiting in the high weeds with the long knives for this film. When people were dismissing it out of hand because "it's unoriginal," I was going out of my mind. "Avatar," THAT was unoriginal. An earth soldier who has an out of body experience romancing, and fighting alongside, a differently hued, scantily clad princess on another world for the survival of the planet? "Star Wars" featuring valiant sword-wielding heroes with extraordinary physical prowess battling monsters in arenas (in two different films, no less, not to mention the Dejah Thoris-esque outfit Leia wore in ROTJ.) Those filmmakers and more owe a huge debt to "John Carter," and now Andrew Stanton was stepping up to repay that debt in full.

And I'm sorry, haters, but in my opinion, he succeeded. I loved it. I loved the characters. I'm not sure why Taylor Kitsch was channeling Michael Keaton's "Batman" voice, but he still conveyed a broken and frustrated man who had to find something worth fighting for. And I loved Lynn Collins as Dejah Thoris, prideful and formal and otherworldly in both her demeanor and delivery of her dialogue. The Tharks looked great, as did the kid-friendly Martian dog Woola (the fact that there's no plush Woola for the kiddies…or, screw that, even me…is downright criminal). Mark Strong, rapidly developing into the go-to guy for movie villains, was wonderfully menacing as one of the behind-the-scenes manipulators. Plus genuinely funny sequences and moments as well.

I have absolutely no idea how modern audiences who aren't remotely familiar with a Burroughs hero from a century ago–the same ones who don't even know who Paul McCartney is–are going to react to this film. Is it going to seem similar to other films they've seen? Well, yeah. To some degree, Stanton was in a no-win scenario. If he kept it exactly the way Burroughs did it, then history-blind movie goers will say, "Seen it.'" If he changed it so radically that it bore little to no resemblance to the source material, the hard-core fans will say, "This isn't 'John Carter.'" So he had to walk the line, producing a film that's different enough to be fresh to new eyes but faithful enough to satisfy the hardcore.

I can't speak for the former, so that's something they're going to have to decide for themselves. But for this hardcore, it was literally a dream come true. And by the end of the film, believe it or not, I was tearing up. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I was. And the reason for it was that inside me a ten year child was sobbing for joy that finally, after dreaming about it for so long, he'd finally made it to Barsoom.

Now where the hell are the action figures? I want my Dejah Thoris, dammit. Even if she IS wearing too many clothes.

PAD