Mystery Science Theatre 3000
with Mike Nelson, Tom Servo, Crow T. Robot, Dr. Clayton Forrester, and Gypsy.
Directed by Jim Mallon (Gramercy/Universal)
An interview with writer/performers Mike Nelson and Tom Servo
by William Ham
Among post-modern video-age activities, few are as revered as flicking on some piece of pre-processed UHF cheese, sitting around with a group of cynical pals, and hurling smart-ass epithets screenward. Apart from being a kicky diversion, it also works as subversion; the tiny revenge of the tube-tied proletariat over the forces of darkness that underestimate our intelligence by flinging cinematic crap at the fourth wall. Therefore, let us now praise the brave denizens of the Satellite of Love, trapped in outer space and forced to watch a cavalcade of B, C, and Z-movies like Eegah!, Teenage Caveman, and the infamous Manos: The Hands of Fate – a struggle that makes the Apollo 13 astronauts look like wussies.
Thanks to modern technology, their fight for independence from the celluloid-squanderers can be seen on Mystery Science Theatre 3000: The Series (weeknights, for now, at least, on Comedy Central at 2 a.m., and locally, on channel 38, Saturdays at 3 a.m.), and now on the silver-plated screen with MST3K: The Movie. In it, Gizmonics Institute temp Mike and his robotic friends Tom Servo and Crow T. Robot take on what mad scientist Dr. Clayton Forrester calls “a steaming cinematic suppository,” the 1954 sci-fi mistake in judgment This Island Earth, in which a plucky scientist (Rex Reason) runs afoul of aliens with more forehead space than Gene Siskel. A worthy opponent, but the MSTies prove themselves up to the task from first frame to last.
Fans that worried about something being lost in the transfer to a higher aspect ratio need fear not – not only do we get to see much more of the SOL than the series’ shoestring budget would allow, but my BPM (Bellylaughs Per Minute) meter gave off higher readings than any film since The Naked Gun. They use their PG-13 rating wisely (gratuitous swearing is kept to a bare minimum), and if they seem to have dumbed themselves down ever-so-slightly for the mass audience (that means fewer literary references and more fart jokes), it’s a tradeoff that I can live with. MST3K: TM is, in short, the funniest film in ages, as well as one of the most wily – I can think of few pictures that have found a better scheme for keeping your keisters in the seats through the closing credits.
A few days after seeing MST3K:TM, I was rooting around in Lollipop‘s basement looking for old copies of Senior Citizens in Chainmail when I came across a disused interocitor (those who’ve seen the flick know whereof I speak). I grappled with it for a while (it kept rejecting my crumpled dollar), but when I finally got it working, I was greeted by the visage of two of MST3K‘s chief wizards, writer/performers Kevin Murphy (the voice of Tom Servo) and Mike Nelson (the voice of Mike Nelson). We spoke at such length that the operator charged me $70,000 in long-distance fees when it was over. I present the following interview as a public service of this magazine and in hopes of a hefty tax write-off.
Was it a struggle to bring MST3K to the big screen?
Kevin Murphy: Somewhat. We went to Paramount first. There was some interest there but they wanted the option to, say, take out Mike and put in Scott Baio or somebody.
Mike Nelson: Which is actually not a bad idea.
Kevin: And that didn’t seem right because we’re really an ensemble. They couldn’t accept that so we parted company.
Mike: But we were really lucky with Universal in that the executive who gave us the green light basically said “Yeah, I get it. Go make it.” It was that easy.
Did the movie go through many changes before it made it to the screen?
Kevin: The nice thing was that when we were trying to formulate this thing, we started getting a real heavy-duty narrative going for the sketches that go through the film. But the more we looked at it, we realized that there’s already a story here. This Island Earth has all the components of a Hollywood film, everything the studio might look for in a picture. So we went back to just doing these goofy sketches, which is what we do best.
Mike: Much earlier, before we had entered any serious negotiations, we had written a script that was actually quite different. When they did the preliminary budget for it, it came out to roughly 175 million dollars. We had written a scene where Crow escapes into the German countryside on a motorcycle and he’s spinning donuts on this hill and the entire German army comes over the hill to catch him and Kim Cattrall (of Mannequin fame) is there… I never understood why we couldn’t do that.
How much did the film end up costing?
Mike: Our budget was like Kevin Costner’s cookie budget for Waterworld. He had to have his special biscuits flown in from England or something.
Kevin: Our initial budget was about a million and a half, and we stuck pretty close to that, but the promotion budget for it is actually much, much more than the cost of the film itself. So it won’t take much for this to turn a profit, unlike Cutthroat Island. I read the other day that it’s now officially the biggest flop in Hollywood history. It didn’t play long – I think it was pulled on the way to the theater.
Mike: They were halfway through the screening and they yanked it.
Kevin: It blasted a 100 million dollar hole in the ground, and the bomb’s name is Renny Harlin. [TV’s] Frank started me on that. He proclaimed one day for the world to hear that Renny Harlin was the worst living director . I hadn’t seen any of his movies, but I rented Cliffhanger and I had to agree with Frank. It’s a preposterously bad film, even for an action picture. And the worst thing about him is that people keep giving him money! Lots of it! It just doesn’t seem right.
You’ve got the movie, the new book, the coffee mugs and collectors’ cards – is there any other MST merchandise on the way?
Kevin: We’re doing a CD-ROM with Voyager that I think will be out in the fall. We shot two new short subjects for it that will not be available anywhere else. One of the options on this is that we wrote several jokes for each place on the short, so that every time you look at it you’ll get a new bunch of jokes.
Mike: We’re also including a flight simulator in there, which is actually a commercial flight simulator in which you just board the airplane and sit there and rack up your Frequent Flier miles. And it’s in real time, so if you want the upgrade to first class you have to sit in front of your computer for six or seven hours. And there’s a kid in there kicking your seat.
Kevin: We have a fake desktop at the beginning so you can get around in there, and also a few interactive games. “Polesitter” is one of my favorites.
Mike: The idea for that is the highly graphic story of the ancient tribe of Polesitters who, in order to escape their enemies, sit on top of poles. Once you get through the graphic opening you’re kicked over to a C-prompt, and it’s a text-based game, so you type “LOOK NORTH” and it says “YOU’RE ON TOP OF A POLE.” And if you move at all you fall off the pole and die.
Is your writing process similar to what we see on screen? Do you sit around, watch the films, and record your wisecracks as it goes along?
Kevin: That’s exactly it, slinging mud at the wire frame of the film and then parrot it down. I think that’s what gives the show so much of its improvisational feel – the first few times through we’re just throwing comments out, trying to be funny and trying to enjoy it. Sometimes it’s hard. These are bad films.
Mike: Occasionally there are spots that we just can’t crack, moments that don’t lend themselves to a joke. So you watch it again and again and again… That’s when your instincts as a writer come through.
Kevin: We call it “staring.” That’s when we take a particularly troublesome three-minute passage of the film and just stare at it for half an hour or so.
Mike: There’s a limit, though, because the pause function on a VCR clicks off after five minutes or so. So we’ll pause a film, nobody will say a single word for five minutes…
Kevin: The wind blows, dogs bark, a tumbleweed blows by…
Mike: Then the film starts up again.
Any films that stand out as being particularly problematic in that way?
Kevin: Monster-A-Go-Go was hard to get through.
Mike: Another was The Robot vs. The Aztec Mummy.
Kevin: Possibly our hardest film ever.
Mike: It was a Mexican serial with this really absurd story that had been re-edited into a feature film, and we just couldn’t do it. We tried sending it back and the Comedy Channel told us, “No, you have to do it.” So we sent our assistant out for tequila, we had a couple of shots, and finished the film that way. That was the only time we ever medicated ourselves.
Are there any movies you wanted to salvage on your show that for one reason or another you couldn’t get?
Mike: There was a Western that we were dying for but couldn’t get the rights – Charro! with Elvis Presley.
That’s the one where he didn’t sing, right?
Mike: Yeah, he beats people up instead.
Kevin: I guess he wanted a dramatic vehicle that time around. It didn’t work.
What, Change of Habit wasn’t enough for him?
Mike: Guess not. It was obvious his manager didn’t want him to appear dirty or unkempt, so he just looked like a rock star with a cowboy hat on.
And I believe that was the only film where he doesn’t portray a musically-inclined race car driver.
Mike: You know, I’ve never really gotten through any of his movies. I liked his swim trunks, though. His legs were just a little too long and the trunks were squared off at the bottom. He did look good in those.
It’s a pity TV has certain restrictions – I’d really like to see what you could do with Showgirls.
Kevin: Oh, God, Joe Ezsterhas, he’s another one on my list. Detestable.
Mike: And he’s so whiskery and licey-looking.
Kevin: He looks like a skinny Viking.
Mike: Actually, he looks like Animal from The Muppet Show.
Have there been any offers to work on other projects?
Mike: We were actually asked to re-write the script for The Beverly Hillbillies. Don’t ask me why. I sat down, opened the script, and the first line was “We hear a banjo.” I couldn’t read any further.
Kevin: Jim Varney just hasn’t gotten any roles commiserate with his immense talent.
Yeah, he should do an Oscar Wilde thing – The Importance of Being Ernest.
Kevin: That’s it. Go away now.
