I propose a new religion!

One that is based on Robot Jox. When I watched it for the first time recently, it immediately struck me as one of those movies that becomes far more than it actually is, as the passage of time ages it like fine bathtub gin. Then I watched it again the next day. How this 1990 stop-motion opus isn't a cult icon amazes me.

For those who haven't been indoctrinated, the plot is perfection: In a vision of jarringly bad prognostication, post-nuclear holocaust Earth is so wiped out and turned off of traditional gun and missle warfare that all of its quarrels are settled with a one-on-one fight. But not just any fight. A Robot Jox fight! Men are strapped into 1960s astronaut suits and placed on a treadmill, all mounted in the head of a giant robot suit. But one man can't win a fight, as the cowboy hat-wearing American coach reminds us. It's a patriotic team effort, and one following massive preparation. They battle in Death Valley, California, where spectators ("bleacher bums") watch their countries compete for ownership of the planet's remaining land. There are many rules and procedures (short vs. long range attack, the use of rocket-feet, limited use of secret weapons, and varying models of robot), but I won't get into all of the details. It is the details, however, that make this movie shine.

Details and the horrible execution. See, if this movie were made recently, it would simply be mediocre, flooded with boring CGI and B-list actors a la that Reign of Fire dragon movie. Hardly worth a religion. But Robot Jox was made right in the hinterlands between 80s jerky model work and the infancy of computer FX. The production clearly centered on the construction of the robots, which by themselves are actually pretty cool Voltron-ish creations. But all of their movements are a combination of stop-motion and Godzilla-style pyrotechnics. That and the set design, acting and dialogue are all seemingly the creation of eighth-graders.

I think the spirit of the film is what really excited me though. Stuck in limbo between the 80s and 90s, it has a blend of patriotic rah-rah themes like Top Gun, ultra-violent anti-war themes like Red Dawn, and technology obsession like that of Jurassic Park, Terminator or Robocop. It's confusing, and unlike any setting anyone has ever seen in serious film, much less real life.

And this is where science fiction shines as the heart of a popular culture. It taps a little bit of culture's substance and keeps it in a tiny vial. It doesn't attempt to carbon-copy that culture like serious drama, but it makes a caricature of it, which is far more useful than a realistic recreation. Sort of how Hunter Thompson's cartoonish interpretations of an event can depict it better than a newspaper's reproduction of the exact occurence. Or how those who watched Buffy maintain it's the most realistic show on TV, despite the inclusion of vampires and magic. Fantasy copes with reality better than reality does.

There are certain works, like Robot Jox, that encapsulate a time that never really existed, but nonetheless exist in a society's ether. Some examples off the top of my head are Pulp Fiction, Bond movies, Elvis movies, Frankie and Annette movies, Swingers, They Live, Go, The Big Lebowski, Johnny Mnemonic, New Jack City. Stuff like that. We've never been there, but we're still nostalgic when it's on screen. William Gibson nailed what I'm trying to describe with his short story, "The Gernsback Continuum," about a guy for whom 1930s pulp and propaganda images materialize into his daily life. Another one I'm obsessed with (although Shanara Chase has suggested I'm actually obsessed with a budding Angelina Jolie) is Hackers. To me, this is the ultimate 90s movie. It presents the perfect mirage of 90s technoculture that never really came to fruition. The radio techno soundtrack, the computer obsession, the not-quite-futuristic fashion all reflect the time when we looked at the Internet with giddy anticipation and not yet as a tool of daily life. And whenever I see a movie like this, it owns me, regardless of how good or staggeringly bad it is.

And so, Robot Jox, you own me. I recommend anyone watch this fine fine film, and then join me for, if not a religion, a devoted club. I'm going to call it "The Robot Jox," for lack of any better title that does or could ever exist.