Innerspace

Lt. Tuck Pendleton (Dennis Quaid), in a revolutionary experiment, is miniaturised and will be injected in his ship into the body of a rabbit. However, as you may expect, something goes wrong. In this case it is a group of terrorists who break into the laboratory in an attempt to steal the technology. Luckily, one of the scientists escapes only to inject Tuck into the body of hypochondriac Jack Putter (Martin Short) before he is killed. Tuck is then posed with the problem of alerting Jack to his presence from inside Jack's body and recovering the technology which will allow him to escape back into the normal sized world before the terrorists discover his whereabouts and he runs out of oxygen, along the way recruiting the help of his girlfriend, played by Meg Ryan.

With deliciously stereotyped villains with names like Victor Eugene Scrimshaw and Mr. Igoe bent on world destruction, Innerspace is perfect 80s entertainment. Made at a time when Hollywood was constantly guessing what would be the next big threat after nuclear weapons, the film's gleeful approach to miniaturisation showcases some stunning special effects which, while jaw dropping at the time, winning an Academy Award, now offer fond nostalgia back to when effects did not pretend to be completely lifelike, yet were more believable than modern day photo realistic attempts.

Combining Quaid's All-American wholesomeness with Short's delightfully quirky facial expressions the film appeals to everyone, encapsulating the spirit of the 1980s mixed with an almost childlike excitement in anticipation of what the future holds. Gremlins and Small Soldiers director Joe Dante once again uses anarchic effects to showcase a film of sly wit that pokes fun at the science fiction genre.

As an updated version of the 1966 classic The Fantastic Voyage, the film comes across as a thoroughly enjoyable adventure. It has lost none of its charm or quality and now represents everything that was good about late 80s Hollywood. Like Back to the Future, Innerspace does not pretend to be anything other than pure escapist fun, a quality which the manufactured, merchandising tie-in films Hollywood churns out now could learn a lot from.

Peter Lefort