Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990)

With the news that Michael Bay has produced another version of my childhood to be released in theaters this summer (and the controversy that's already swirling), it seemed "relevant" to take a look back at the first big-screen appearance of the Teenage Mutant Not-So-Ninja Anthropomophized Animatronic-Faced Nightmare Fuel.

We all look like this on the inside.

Let's get this out of the way before we take a look at the 1990 film. This type of recycling will happen again, and again, and again, and again. Just as it happened before, and before, and before, and before. One might make some commentary about how the last go-round was centered on old television shows while this one seems all about old toys and games. But that "one" won't be me. I will simply say that Hollywood is a regurgitation machine, spitting pre-chewed ideas onto movie screens like a mother bird treating us as its baby birds in the nest. Open wide, and wait for next meal, little baby birds.

Gimme.

No. I have a larger task - providing you, dear reader and internet at-large, with a psuedo-review of what some may call the harbinger of this toys-and-games-to-film era. Of course, there were other big-screen versions of toy lines before it (notably, Masters of the Universe). But none had yet attempted to cleave to the source material so closely.

Dolph Lundgren would've looked awesome in a pink shirt.

If you don't know the origin story of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, let's just say that they are basically four turtle-variations on Marvel's Daredevil except they didn't go blind, and they're not lawyers. Also, they basically jumped into the vat of radioactive stuff and started making "snow angels." It didn't fall on them in a horrible accident. Whatever. You get the idea...probably.

Not the best role models for children.

So the plot that fills the cracks in-between references to other movies and 90s pop culture revolves around a group of teens and pre-teens who have joined a gang run by Bad-Guy-Shredder because they've been "rejected by society" and whatnot. They steal stuff for him to "build his empire" and otherwise just hang around to play video games and smoke cigarettes and play poker while drinking Pepsi Cola in a warehouse. In their spare time, the kids train in the martial arts until they've reached a high enough level to join the Foot Clan...which, if you've seen the old cartoon, is a joke of a training regimen since they're just fodder for Ninja Turtle weapons, kicking, and punching. Eventually, we're told that Bad-Guy-Shredder killed Good-Guy-Mentor-Splinter's master (still keeping track of this? well, okay, I'll continue...we're almost done) over a woman. Since Splinter trained the Turtles with the fighting style he learned while being a rat in a cage as his master practiced, Shredder wants to kill them too.

The Turtles spout classic exclamations throughout the film like "bodacious" and "cowabunga" and "tubular." No doubt, this was an executive-level attempt to make their dialogue transcend time itself. Surprisingly, it did not work. Instead, every word written in the script, article of clothing, and cultural reference (Stallone and James Cagney impersonations? Domino's Pizza 30 minutes or less guarantee? April O' Neil's hair and clothes?) hardens like a cocoon around this fossil, preserving the mummified remains within. Making it a "thing" that existed in 1990...

Those are some serious shoulder pads.

Unfortunately, the entire film isn't so much a film of its own, but is simply a pastiche of tropes (the loner Raphael, the bad guy's inextricable connection to the good guys, training montage, Han-Leia  love stuff between Casey and April, revenge for the trainer/master/father-figure, etc.), and the tapestry it weaves with these pieces was thin to begin with, but it has become utterly transparent over the past twenty-four years. Take for example, the flashback scenes. Some of us fondly remember a time before "dark and gritty" were subsitutes for actual character development and depth. Don't get your hopes up for those brighter days if you choose to rewatch this movie. Dark and gritty were heavily employed here, far before they were in vogue. But in this case, they were mostly used to mask the horribly inept special effects.

I can't be certain of anything in this scene.

Another example is the characterization of the Turtles. Raphael takes most of the "characterization spotlight" (meaning, the others are simply two dimensional character stereotypes: Leonardo the Leader who stands guard over his injured compatriot, Michaelangelo the Party Guy who always wants pizza, and Donatello the Genius who helps fix a car) by going to a movie and saving some lady's purse from a snatching and getting angry and then hurt so bad that he needs to be healed slowly at a farm house.

Bathtubs are the best kind of medicine.

No one expects great depth. Just give them each one emotional anchor that might help an audience see them reach towards the upper levels of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. This issue became clear to the writers right about the time that the Turtles stop fighting for about ten minutes half-way through the film, and the story simply abandons the concept of making these large green things relatable. Instead, it shifts to focus on a Casey Jones and April love-hate story rather than the Turtles' singular revenge/rescue motivation. It's a silly transition 45 minutes in, but we're quickly distracted and re-routed back to the rescue/revenge by Splinter's Jedi-like appearance in the fire.

The blue flame means Splinter is safe to drink.

There's a lot of problems here other than the story and the special effects and the mystical ninjitsu, is what I'm getting at. Regardless, there are devotees to this film and the cartoon series that preceeded it (little to no mention, however, of the deviations they both took from the original comic).

Aw, man. I can barely tell who's who without the colored masks.

Some people love the idea of their Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. They don't want it changed. They figure, "There's only one version of the Turtles...MINE."

And they're right...right? Just like there was only one Batman in the last 20 years...

And Spiderman too...

Well, some timeless things don't change ever. Like...Shakespeare's Hamlet!

These same people say: "MY things are real, and they are one way. And they are MINE, so you can't change them. They should never be changed."

Get shut of that idea. I understand that it's a lot of fun for everyone to nit-pick the things they really like. I certainly do it. That's part of the joy of being a "geek" about whatever you're a geek about. But keep some perspective. In a long enough timeline, the things that you get pedantic about will evolve and change many, many times. New people will interpret them and add to them and alter them. That's the point. Staying static means that no one is into [insert name of thing you love] enough to bring a different point-of-view into the mix. No one ever retroactively goes back to change the things that you once loved. (Well, mostly never.) They are still there for you to enjoy.

As is the original Turtles movie...if you're into that sort of thing.