If a satellite falls from the sky, don’t pick it up. You don’t know where that thing’s been.
Besides, you might trigger the start of “The Andromeda Strain,” a cheesy remake of the cheesy 1971 movie based on Michael Crichton’s novel.
On Monday and Tuesday at 7 p.m., A&E presents a new version of the tale that launched Crichton’s career, the story of a team of scientists investigating a deadly virus of unknown origin.
Unfortunately, the story is now inflated to include a government conspiracy, a Clintonesque president, a nasty Army general, a dogged reporter and references to Saddam, Iraq and homeland security to pad the medical mystery.
With bioterrorism a timely topic, and with plague an enduring AIDS metaphor, you’d think the plot would engage on a visceral level. Instead, eminent producing brothers Ridley and Tony Scott have prolonged the flick to miniseries length. Truly awful acting and often silly dialogue botch any tension.
Most memorable from the whole stinking exercise is the sight of dozens of extras enacting horrible deaths, aided by special effects and thick makeup. Their seizing, writhing bodies litter the streets; their deaths get multiple replays.
When it tries to be serious sci-fi, this “Andromeda” strains. When it verges on camp, it’s not smart enough to be funny.
Some of the most dramatic surprises are the hairstyles of actors slogging through the four hours over two nights: Blond-tinted(!) Andre Braugher as Gen. George Mancheck, an Army biochemical research officer, and shaggy(!) Daniel Dae Kim (“Lost”) as Tsi Chou, a microbiologist.
They’re joined by Eric McCormack (“Will & Grace”) as Jack Nash, the intrepid reporter who breaks out of rehab to chase breaking news through the Utah desert, and Ricky Schroeder in uniform as virologist Bill Keene, amazingly straight-faced as he delivers monotonously urgent lines: “The rate of mutation is likely to increase post-blast. We have to be ready for anything!”
Drinking games may emerge around the vintage “Star Trek” flashback moments, when members of the team bark instructions at the hardware: “Computer, post all results!” “Computer, check all irradiated samples!”
Benjamin Bratt is leaden as epidemiologist Jeremy Stone, leader of the pack of scientists. Stone assembles the crew in an underground undisclosed location, trying to figure out what’s killed nearly an entire town’s population.
It’s a puzzler: This infectious disease outbreak causes grisly death, suicide and homicidal behavior within minutes. Only an old man hooked on Sterno (product placement?) and a colicky baby seem immune.
The lab-coated, hazmat-suited specialists engage in urgent scientific conversations — nanotechnology to biodefense to wormholes — about just what Andromeda might be.
“Is it of this world or alien?”
The fantastic future is signaled by “e-papers,” paper-thin computer screens, and “Minority Report”-styled 3-D computer graphics. Suspense is telegraphed by blasts of hard-driving rock music.
McCormack’s performance ranges from sitcomy shtick to action-adventure heroics. He pulls it off better than the rest of the cast, while his character voices suspicions about “fascist” homeland security.
Too much time is devoted to reaction shots: People staring at video screens; video feeds on computers; security camera footage; and images from GPS tracking devices. There’s also some kissing.
“Things just don’t add up,” Stone says near the end of Night 1. “Something’s missing, but I just can’t put my finger on it.”
Andromeda eats energy! If you nuke it, you will grow it! It will take another two hours to put a finger on it. I can attest that there is an eventual solution, but only because I’m paid to watch the whole thing.
Joanne Ostrow: 303-954-1830 or jostrow@denverpost.com
