The premise of The Core would have you believe that the inner core of the earth has stopped spinning, causing massive thunderstorms, electromagnetic surges that stop pacemakers and, well, something that causes birds in London to go absolutely mad. And that’s just for starters! College professor Aaron Eckhart believes that within a year, all life around the world will cease to exist.

He convinces enough military bigwigs that the situation is real and deadly, if they don’t do something — namely, drill down to the center of the earth and jump-start the planet. Hey, whaddaya know, Delroy Lindo’s been working on just such a machine in the middle of the desert! So the two get in the ship with astronaut Hilary Swank, pompous scientist Stanley Tucci and a few others, and get down to business.

For a while anyway, The Core plays it straight enough that you just buy into it. It’s not until the mission is well under way that said suspension starts falling apart, probably because the movie is just too darned long. And the mission — its Armageddon half — is actually the least interesting part of the movie. I much more enjoyed the setup — the Deep Impact half — where the disaster scenes carry a little mystery, the Space Shuttle is forced to land in a Los Angeles sewer ditch, and citizens panic as all of Rome’s monuments are blown to model bits.

The acting isn’t all that bad, just the dialogue. Eckhart makes for a likable all-brains hero, although this must be one of the easiest slum jobs for an Academy Award winner, as Swank has to do little more than sit in a chair and rattle off some numbers. The weakest link here, however, is Road Trip freak DJ Qualls as a hacker named Rat. He likes Xena: Warrior Princess and Hot Pockets, and can do anything with computers — and is just plain annoying. He’s this film’s Jar-Jar. —Rod Lott

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In In the Year 2889, fashions have devolved to the late 1960s. Oh, and nuclear war has occurred, leaving an old, curmudgeonly military man and his pretty daughter alone and holed up in their quiet, isolated valley home. He has just enough rations for three people: himself, his daughter and her fiancé, for whom they’re waiting to show up.

At the first knock at the door, however, some random, radiated, bacon-faced guy falls into their entryway. Capt. John gets out his Geiger counter and is concerned about the radiation, but his daughter insists on letting him stay. Oh, well, okay — since you asked nicely, honey.

Then, immediately following, four others show up and weasel their way into the compound. It all serves to piss off Capt. John, who promises to settle arguments with the trusty gun hanging in a holster from his tan jumpsuit. It’s not long before the group is bickering and at each other’s throats.

To complicate matters, such as a shortage of food and no more alcohol, there’s a mutant monkey monster on the loose. Or so they say it’s descended it’s from monkeys, but the budget only allows for a grampa mask with added fangs and one hollow eye socket. What else would you expect from Mars Needs Women schlockmeister Larry Buchanan? —Rod Lott

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