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What kind of society might evolve in a world like this? What would they value? How would they maintain hope? Sadly, that's a story for another film, because after a thrilling opening where Kevin Costner outwits a gang of marauders James Bond-style on his sailboat, Waterworld dispenses with all of that. This is a Lone Wanderer story, where a hardened drifter reluctantly defends a tribe of innocents from a power mad lunatic and his horde of leather clad mutants. Despite all the pretense, Waterworld is just bits of trope from other, better stories tacked onto the rickety framework of what was probably once a great idea.

Strike one is the score. It's completely inappropriate for the movie. James Newton Howard is an accomplished composer with a number of great films on his resume. Waterworld is not one of them. It's not that his work is not competent, it's just sounds like it belongs in a Western or a space opera. And with Costner jumping around like Barry Sanders on the deck of his boat, swinging from ropes with a knife between his teeth, it almost sounds like parody. A high concept movie like this might have benefited from a more innovative soundtrack. Oh, but would that were the only crime of which I must write today.

I don't know offhand specifically what percentage of this movie is bears Costner's personal fingerprints. I suspect the answer looks like the back windows of your mother's car after you and your little brother decided to travel with cotton candy when you were nine. It's just a mess. The overarching plot revolves around a mythical child with a tattoo that is really a map showing the way to the last piece of dry land on earth. And of course, there's only one man - called The Mariner (Costner, of course) - who can make that happen. You know, the old “chosen one” story.

But instead of the Wild West, or the Crab Nebula, it takes place in 2,000 feet of water over what used to be northern Colorado. That could have been really cool, but...it's really not.

I'm not sure how long humanity has lived this way by the time we catch up with these characters; the script isn't completely clear on that. But nobody seems to have adapted past the point where as long as they were standing on dry ground, getting curb stomped by a psychotic gang of Surf Nazis would be a welcome diversion. What I'm saying is, it seems like whatever happened, it happened fast. Humanity is still reeling from the apocalypse, and lawlessness rules the waves. Droves of bandits called Smokers patrol the seas, looting and killing. What civilization remains is aboard an armored, man made island.

They are opposed by a bug-eyed lunatic called The Deacon (Dennis Hopper, just being himself) who has commandeered an oil tanker and rules his minions with religious zeal. They follow him because...well, I'm not sure why they follow him. They just DO. Maybe it's because he dresses like a cross between Gaddafi and Cameo (your first two '80s references are free). When The Mariner stops at the flotilla for supplies, he runs into some trouble and is sentenced to be turned into Soylent Green. Luckily (sort of), The Deacon attacks at that exact moment. In the chaos, The Mariner is rescued by a kindly settler (Jeanne Tripplehorn) and her plucky daughter (Tina Majorino), who happens to have an unusual tattoo on her back. They make their escape, of course, and in one of the few truly thought provoking sequences of the film, The Mariner seriously considers throwing them overboard to conserve supplies.

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