Entirely reliant upon the end justifying the means for all but the most non-judgemental of filmgoers, ex-FX gurus The Brothers Strause's Skyline comes up short in every department – bar the one they know best. The film is weighted down by the creaky histrionics of a cast of game but underdeveloped talents, and by Joshua Cordes' and Liam O'Donnell's leaden script – which borrows way too much from far better examples of the alien invasion genre. Skyline is MacBook-moviemaking of the highest order – which, unfortunately, is not the compliment it should be.
Essentially a story of the struggle for survival in the face of an extra-terrestrial offensive (set almost entirely within an apartment block in downtown Los Angeles), Skyline's only adherence to character development is in the form of mumbling couple Jarrod (Eric Balfour) and Elaine (Scottie Thompson). They are visiting old friend Terry (Donald Faison, the films only recognisable face after nearly a decade playing 'Turk' on Scrubs), who has hit it big as an LA singing star. After a wild night of partying, they are woken by what most assume is an earthquake but which soon reveals itself to be far more sinister – the first wave of weaponry from an interstellar attack force.
By the film's mid-point, all the usual clichés have been exploited; genre buffs, bored by the film's lack of originality, may get a buzz playing the name game, spotting references to Invaders From Mars, War of the Worlds, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Predator, Cloverfield and, of course, Independence Day. So reminiscent is Skyline of Roland Emmerich's 1996 Will Smith/Jeff Goldblum blockbuster, one can't help but put the label of 'unofficial remake' on the Strause's film. The line between homage and plagiarism is crossed continually; elements that have been used many times in familiar sci-fi settings are entitled to be referenced and enhanced, but not shamelessly stolen.
The most obvious point of difference is that Independence Day, despite the outcry against its jingoistic bent, was still a good deal of fun. Skyline, on the other hand, begins to feel like a war film in its relentlessly dour and desperate plotline – as every avenue of escape is foiled by the self-regenerating alien minions, the climax becomes all too obvious. Fatalistic rantings by hammy actors (David Zayas as the goateed security guard is the worst offender) and a screeching support cast, doomed the moment they appear on screen, don't help matters.
Despite its shortcomings, if all you seek is some visual whizbangery then Skyline offers a final 15 minutes full of admittedly exciting man-vs-alien action (you've seen a most of it in the trailer). It is entirely visceral, with no suspense (audience empathy – even interest – in the leads has long since dissipated), but there are some impressive effects that gel seamlessly with the full-daylight setting. A tacked-on epilogue, set within the bowels of the alien mothership, is undeniably the work of a Hollywood producer's arse-covering decision re a potential sequel; it is unwarranted and supremely tacky.
One can't help feel that it was the finale, perhaps packaged as a low-cost VFX showreel to potential investors, that got the film greenlit in the first place. It certainly feels that the screenplay, full of cringingly cheesy dialogue and rote genre machinations, was never anything other than a frustrating annoyance for the Strause siblings. As merciless as the rampaging alien hordes are, it is the script to this over-hyped rehash that proves most damaging to humankind, both on- and off-screen.
