Brief Look at Judge Dredd Novels, Cinematic Interlude: Judge Dredd (1995)
We should, perhaps, begin with the obvious.
The biggest problem here is Sylvester Stallone, in manners both gross and subtle. On the one hand, his performance is... well, it's pure Stallone. It's a mind-gratingly stoic and staid performance, with all the mumbling you've come to expect, and on the most obvious of levels it's simply not very good.
But the deeper problem here, and the one that really sinks the film, is one that fandom generally seems to come very close to correctly diagnosing, if only to ever so slightly miss the mark in the way that only science-fiction fandoms really can.
The problem, as John J. Fandom, MD would have you believe, is that the film chose to show Judge Dredd's face, one of the biggest no-nos of 2000 AD. And they are, at least, partially right, but only in the sense that the prominence of Stallone's face is a symptom of the overwhelming amount of distortion that the actor's mere presence inflicts upon the very cinematic grammar of the film.
Witness the first scene in which Dredd is revealed, and you can practically hear the creaks as the generally satirical and sceptical lens in which 2000 AD cast the Judges at its best moments is wrenched into a far more conventional "action movie" template.
This impression certainly isn't helped any by the eventual arrival of Rob Schneider, who was seemingly one of your go-to guys in the nineties for lame action movie buddy comedies.
(Granted, the only other film I've seen from the decade that fits the bill would be Tsui Hark's 1998 JCVD vehicle Knock Off, a rather terrible film that I only ever bothered to watch because Sparks did the theme song. At any rate, it simply wasn't worth it.)
It's not that the juxtaposition of Judge Dredd against this conventional setting couldn't create a perverse frisson, but it would definitely require a much more incisive and self-aware script than William Wisher, Jr. and Steven de Souza were apparently willing to provide. As is, you're left with... well, a conventional action movie, which is probably in the Top 2 Least Interesting Things You Could Ever Do With Judge Dredd.
The other, as it happens, would be to make it a conventional sci-fi film riffing on Star Wars and Joseph Campbell, and oops they did that one too, complete with a James Earl Jones voiceover that makes a point of having him say lines about "forces." The best encapsulation of the sheer strangeness of this experience is the scene in which Max von Sydow's Fargo reveals to Dredd his nature as a clone. After seemingly never shutting up throughout the whole film, Rob Schneider is practically forced to the periphery of the frame for an Atonement with the Father or whatever.
Rather than being as liberating as one would hope "getting less Rob Schneider" would be, it only reinforces the sense that the film is caught between two - three, if you count the tone and aesthetic of the original 2000 AD comics, but all impressions of the film's behind-the-scenes would seem to suggest that you'd be the only one - competing sensibilities, and ultimately ends up doing neither of them particularly well.
Sure, it looks good, with some wonderful set design and special effects, but the reduction of such an interesting world as Judge Dredd down to superficial and facile pleasures - and I include in this remark the utterly extraneous catfight between Diane Lane's Hershey and a rightfully bored Joan Chen, for the record - can't help but sting a little. The biggest saving grace the film has is that it isn't that long, but at that point we'd best stop scraping the bottom of the barrel before we end up with splinters.
And accordingly, we should end with the obvious: The fact that this made nearly nineteen times as much as the contemporary Tank Girl film is the kind of thing that it's hard not to view as anything but a moral abhorrence.
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