I am a huge fan of so-bad-they’re-good movies. There’s a certain charm that accompanies classics such as Twilight (2008) or The Room (2003)—a charm that is almost impossible to replicate outside of so-bad-they’re-good parameters. Over the summer my brothers and I decided to celebrate this charm, setting off on a quest to watch as many of these movies as we could. From low-budget horror to flopped blockbusters and cult favourites, it was a magical time. However, amongst all of these hidden—and not so hidden—treasures, there was one movie that reigned supreme over anything else I have ever seen. A movie that brought me so much joy, I simply did not know what to do with my new-found knowledge that this masterpiece exists. There have been very few times in my life where a film burrowed itself into my subconscious, forcing me to think about it constantly. And I can confidently say that I wasn’t expecting any of the movies my brothers and I watched to have such a profound impact on me. Alas, here we are: 8 months later and I’m still deeply infatuated. The movie at hand? The magnum opus of all magnum opi, if you will: Super Mario Bros (1993).
I have definitely seen my fair share of video game movies—Mortal Kombat (1995) being one of my favourites—but I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from everyone’s favourite Italian brothers. I can visualize the first time I watched it so clearly in my head: I was in an awful mood and out of the stacks of bad movies we had, Super Mario Bros. was my least favourite option. There I sat, defeated that my choice of Chernobyl Diaries (2012) was cast to the side; I had no clue what was in store for the next hour and 44 minutes.
What is the first thing that comes to mind when you think about the Mario and Luigi universe? Dinosaurs…obviously. We open with some lore. Following a meteorite crashing into Earth and killing the dinosaurs, the world is split into two dimensions: the first being Earth as we know it, the second becoming home to a species of dinosaur-human hybrids—what will soon come to be known as Dinohattan.
The Mario brothers—yes, Mario’s full name is canonically Mario Mario—are just two plumbers living in Brooklyn on the verge of going out of business. After a swift succession of questionable events, notably King Koopa’s (Dennis Hopper) kidnapping of Princess Daisy (Samantha Mathis), Mario (Bob Hoskins) and Luigi (John Leguizamo) find themselves in the peculiar and maniacal world of Dinohattan. The plot surrounds the brothers finding Daisy and stopping King Koopa from merging the two dimensions, effectively saving Earth; but the movie is so much more than this. Sure, there’s an array of plot holes and unnecessary scenes, but all of these things lend to the beauty that is Super Mario Bros.
Although Luigi seems to be the main character of the film—especially due to his positioning as Daisy’s love interest—Mario is the real hero, adopting Ethan Hunt-esque skills and saving literally everyone. Luigi, on the other hand, is portrayed as a melancholic conspiracy theorist, creating the messes that Mario cleans up. With an endearing cast of eccentric characters, there is never a dull moment. Notable scenes include Mario and Luigi dancing in an elevator with a handful of Goombas, and Mario saving a group of Brooklyn women being held hostage, accompanied by a sledding-adjacent chase sequence.
Outside of bizarre characters and entertaining scenarios, Super Mario Bros. is somewhat of a revolutionary technological and aesthetic wonder. The 90s saw a widespread use of filmic techniques such as CGI, and Super Mario Bros. was a pioneer when it came to the standardized use of digital visual effects, becoming a source of innovation (not to mention the impressive creature designs that even Jurassic Park (1993) producers marveled at). Reminiscent of something you’d see in an altered state, Dinohattan in itself is an impeccable instance of an astonishingly detailed and immersive set that could easily outshine a Disney or Universal theme park. On top of this, every character’s costume is elaborate and unique, further adding to the dark, futuristic feel of it all.
It’s worth mentioning the film’s seemingly unintentional social commentary regarding pollution, capitalism, and corrupt governments and corporations. Aside from the whole cyberpunk dystopian angle, Dinohattan is akin to a hellscape. It’s crowded and full of seedy inhabitants; disorder and violence are the norm; the environment is grungy; and King Koopa echoes characteristics of a dictator and ruthless business man. Complete disarray pervades every crevasse. The citizens live in a warped, grimy, fear-tinged chaotic mess run by a power-hungry humanoid…what more could you ask for in a societal critique? Even the topic of evolution—or, perhaps de-evolution in Super Mario Bros.’ case—is given a starring role. It’s difficult to say whether these themes were deliberate, but paired with the film’s surreal final product and layered production history, it’s a wild and strangely thought-provoking ride.
Speaking of layered production history, although the movie has garnered a cult following in recent years, the cast attests to the filming being a nightmare in itself. Armed with an ever-changing script that showed little semblance to its namesake or previous iterations, Hoskins and Leguizamo did not shy away from the help of liquid courage—tossing sobriety aside in exchange for constant intoxication. Additionally, there were several injuries alongside a directing team that neglected to communicate, resulting in some actors having no clue what was going on. Oh, to be a fly on the wall of this harrowing set…
I know that so-bad-they’re-good movies aren’t everyone’s cup of tea, but Super Mario Bros. is truly something special. It’s entertaining in the purest meaning of the word and has something that’ll appeal to everyone, whether that be the odd theatrics, the camouflaged social commentary, or the baffling history behind its production. While I still have a handful of unanswered questions, I wish I could experience this movie for the first time again. If you know me, you’d know that I refuse to shut up about the unadulterated passion I harbour for this film. So, if you have the chance to watch this 1993 work of art, you have my support 100 percent.Enjoy it for what it is, not what it could’ve been; and remember to trust the fungus!
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