Semper fi, motherfucker.
So here’s a movie about space marines running down space hallways with space rifles, shooting at space mutants.
Need I say more? I understand that a measure of hate exists for this movie, even more so than for example the original Resident Evil movie, and I think it’s because it’s as close to a literal adaptation of Doom as you can get without making some fan-fic bullshit about blazing on demons on Mars.
Doom makes no sense. But at its core, we have space marines running down space… yeah, you get it. And add in the Rock and then up-and-comer Karl Urban, and you’ve got a genre feast that may surprise you with its thoughtfulness.
No, not so much about how his callsign is Reaper because his last name is Grim, but rather in the character played by the Rock, whose arc is surprising and pulled off with slightly greater range than what we assume of the actor, good as we know he is.
To theme, the dueling arcs speak to military dehumanization, how protocol may be efficient, but given shifting field realities, breeds cold roboticism. Men become monsters, and this is literalized in scifi brought to you by later-era Stan Winston Studios rubber suits and animatronics.
The pinky monster is great, the FPS sequence is integrated cleverly into the story, and the appeal of the visual formula get my goat like those demons got Goat.
Demons? I don’t know. Who cares? There’s monsters, there’s big guns, and those two slam together like bambambam.