MOVIE REVIEW : ‘SOLARBABIES’ REHEATS PAST FILM IDEAS

“Solarbabies” (citywide) is yet more slapdash cinematic hash: a bubbling movie slumgullion into which the film makers have poured bits and scraps of “The Road Warrior,” “Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome,” “E. T.” “Rollerball,” “Dune,” youth cults, Carlos Castaneda, Robert Heinlein, ecology, Buddhism and maybe even a smidgen of “The Wizard of Oz.” Instead of coming to a high, flavorful boil, the whole thing quickly overcooks and begins evaporating into hot air.

The movie is a real high-conceptual mess, though occasionally, it’s an ingratiating one. Somewhere along the line, this premise may have even looked promising: In a nightmare dystopian future, youthful orphanage-prison escapees on roller skates flee through the bleak deserts into a barren, waterless hell populated by an assortment of hammy villains, gentle wilderness tribes and evil Australians.

The kids’ goal: a mystical little ball of light called Bodhi, who has befriended their youngest member, Daniel, and is now wandering somewhere out in the dunes. “Bodhi” is the Buddhist term for the enlightenment that comes after the eightfold path to salvation, so presumably this little ball promises to somehow save the ravaged Earth.

You’re tempted to suggest that the makers of “Solarbabies” are in need of enlightenment themselves--and perhaps more than merely an eightfold path. Consider this sample of dialogue: “What is your name?” “I’ve never been sure.” “Don’t be cryptic with me, boy.” That’s the kind of mysticism you usually find being hawked in airports--and the script is full of it.

“Solarbabies” director Alan Johnson made his feature debut with the Mel Brooks version of “To Be or Not to Be,” and he was also the choreographer for the great “Springtime for Hitler” number in “The Producers”--and many routines for Brooks, Shirley MacLaine and others. Johnson seemed a good comedy director in “To Be or Not to Be”; the movie had a mixture of gracefulness and vulgarity, a robust stylization.

But he seems pretty much a bust as a maker of mystical action pictures about desert illuminations on roller skates. It’s hard to remember an adventure epic that had so little tension, or more unspontaneous, arch, empty performances. (Richard Jordan--as the villainous, military-braided Grock--often seems on the verge of breaking out into “Springtime for Hitler” himself.)

The music--appropriately, considering the other debts the film owes to from “Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome”--is by Maurice Jarre, and the title song is written and sung by Smokey Robinson. Together with Anthony Pratt’s amusing production designs, they provide nearly the only reasons for sitting through “Solarbabies” (rated PG)--or, perhaps, for skipping it and buying the sound-track album, instead.

‘SOLARBABIES’ An MGM/UA Distribution Co. release of a Brooksfilms presentation. Producers Irene Walzer, Jack Frost Saunders. Director Alan Johnson. Script Walon Green, Douglas Anthony Metrov. Camera Peter MacDonald. Editor Conrad Buff. Production design Anthony Pratt. Music Maurice Jarre. With Richard Jordan, Jami Gertz, Jason Patric, Lukas Haas, Sarah Douglas, Frank Converse, Charles Durning.

Running time: 1 hour, 34 minutes.

MPAA rating: PG (parental guidance suggested; some material may not be suitable for children).