R.O.T.O.R (1987) Review

Doctor Barrett Coldyron (Richard Gesswein) heads up a law enforcement robotics facility which is currently developing a prototype cop as part of the Robot Officer Tactical Operations Research programme. When corporate and political shenanigans deem that R.O.T.O.R. should be ready in the next sixty days, Coldyron quits and leaves the project to the newly promoted Houghtaling (Clark Moore). Within hours, there’s been an accident in the lab, leading to R.O.T.O.R, being activated and heading out to dispense its own brand of justice in accordance with its prime directive – “to judge and execute.”

Director and co-writer Cullen Blaine’s first and only venture into live action territory is a low, low budget grab bag of Terminator offcuts that was filmed around the same time or maybe slightly before RoboCop, which may be why it doesn’t steal from the Paul Verhoeven movie as well. Not that R.O.T.O.R. isn’t backwards in coming forwards about its inspiration. This even name checks James Cameron’s sci-fi action classic in a line delivered by Willard, Houghtaling’s robot assistant who is there to provide withering commentary on the escalating clusterf**k and seems to appreciate leftover French fries despite not having a mouth to put them in.

For any viewers expecting something that will deliver kinetic, Cameronesque set pieces, be prepared to downgrade your excitement accordingly. For starters, you’ll have a long wait, as the first half of the movie follows Coldyron on a typical day of this, initially waxing lyrical about a buttery sunrise as he rolls out of bed at five a.m. to make a coffee with eight sugars which he then gives to his horse. He blows up a tree with primacord because this will make sense (as much as any of this makes sense) later on. We then accompany him on a long and uneventful drive to work and sit in on a meeting with fellow scientists. At least this sequence shoehorns in some quaint, fun stop motion as R.O.T.O.R.’s learning alloy structure gets a literal workout.

At least once Coldyron gets fired, things will kick into gear, right? Nope. He calls up his girlfriend and they go to lunch. Meanwhile, lab janitor and appalling, jive talking, supposedly Native American offence machine Shoeboogie (played by David Alan Newman with all the nuance of someone throwing a canteen of cutlery down a flight of concrete steps) unwittingly overloads the power generators. This gives R.O.T.O.R the boost needed to escape its confinement and, with almost half of the runtime gone, the titular cyborg finally jumps on his motorbike and revs away to cause as much chaos as the limited resources will allow.

The second half is concerned with R.O.T.O.R. pursuing Sonya (Margaret Trigg), the fiancée of a motorist our clunky cop has judged and executed, while Coldyron phones around various folks and shows a frustrating lack of urgency in joining the chase himself. I’m disappointed we didn’t get a team-up with enigmatic Detective John Mango – unfortunately, he’s heard only on phone calls – but our sunrise-loving lunk Coldyron does draft in Doctor C.R. Steele (Jayne Smith), a skunk-hairstyled boffin who lent her expertise to the prototype and appears to have spent the intervening time at the gym.

While Sonya flees and R.O.T.O.R. bumps off a few unlucky folks who get in the way as he closes in, Coldyron and Steele philosophise about the ethics of what they’ve created and eventually formulate a plan to stop it, which is basically an anti-plan as it relies on failing to succeed. I’m not kidding, this is how the final act plays out. The final showdown is hilariously rubbish, and Coldyron goes to blow the whistle on corrupt, self-serving División Commander Earl Buglar when there’s an actual twist of sorts followed by a coda which lays the groundwork for a potential sequel which never happened.

R.O.T.O.R. is so full of head-scratching decisions that it’s difficult to know where to start in locating just where it all went awry. A good proportion of the screenplay seems to be leaning into comedy but the cast aren’t gifted in playing the proceedings for chuckles and both the chase/kill scenes are clearly not going for any kind of humour so it’s hard to get a handle on the tone of piece other than it’s often unintentionally laugh out loud, save for a genuinely amusing and well written line about gravy.

As for the performances, they’re generally not helped by a post-production dub which has Coldyron and Steele voiced by completely different actors. Neither Gesswein nor Smith look the part as scientists and the supporting cast is too busy trying not to stare directly into the camera while delivering embarrassing dialogue, so it’s up to Trigg (a genuinely talented artist whose career was tragically cut short) to salvage what little she can here, delivering the film’s only decent turn and demonstrating a level of skill that the movie doesn’t really deserve.

As for our rampaging robot, the menace generated is commensurate with having your bad guy resemble one fifth of a Village People tribute act. Also, this unstoppable force turns out to be particularly stoppable as its Achilles heel – or should that be Achilles ear? – turns out to be sudden, loud noise. Car and truck horns are effective in slowing R.O.T.O.R. down, as is a particular type of radio station. On numerous occasions, it’s-not-Terminator-don’t-get-the-lawyers-on-us has plenty of opportunity to shoot Sonya but opts to wave its arms at her in a none-too-convincing attempt to corral its prey. If that’s what Coldyron and his team has spent years on, maybe he should have gone back to the drawing board and spent five minutes describing said drawing board by means of a ridiculous voiceover.

By any standard reviewing metric, R.O.T.O.R. is B.O.B.B.I.N.S. However, in a festival environment with a bunch of like-minded individuals, it proves a delightful experience and an opportunity for the bad movie connoisseur to savour every clunky line, every low wattage punch up, every stupid plot beat. The out of control rozzer is described as being “a chainsaw set on frappé” and that sums up the entire enterprise perfectly – both that line and the cinematic universe it belongs to are absolute nonsense. If you’re viewing this alone, its eighty-seven minutes will feel twice that, but in the rarified atmosphere of Culture Shock this felt oddly charming. Now, if I want to watch it again all I have to do is get sixty or seventy other folks to join me.

Movie Rating (if you’re judging it by normal reviewing standards):

Movie Rating (if you’re watching this with a festival audience):

R.O.T.O.R trailer