‘Innerspace’ or — Cowboy Steals The Show?

I’ve always loved Joe Dante’s ‘Innerspace’ (1987). Sure, it’s not exactly original essentially being ‘Fantastic Voyage’ (1966) meets a body-swap comedy with an espionage twist but, you gotta admit, doesn’t that also sound pretty cool?

So Dennis Quaid is miniturised and injected into Martin Short’s bottom. A rival organisation is after Dennis Quaid and his miniturised submarine and they’ll stop at nothing to get it, even if it means Quaid and Short’s deaths. Unfortunately their own Government is also prepared to let them die too so it becomes a race against time, and various henchmen, to extract Quaid from Short and enlarge him back to normality before either Quaid suffocates or Short explodes.

And it’s a fun ride! This isn’t a surprise as Joe Dante knows exactly what he’s doing with this sort of material, perfectly blending the comedy and action (albeit with the occasional crunching of the gears shifting) and always allowing big winks at the audience to show the film knows exactly how silly, and derivative, it all is. As he demonstrated with films like the excellent ‘Gremlins 2’ (1990), nobody can control chaos quite like Dante. And that’s just as well as often ‘Innerspace’ threatens to come completely off the rails (let’s get the almost microscopic negatives out the way first), especially towards the end where there’s maybe a little too much going on. There are huge lurches in logic that require a benevolent viewer with a truck load of forgiveness that they can extend to some of the acrobatic leaps ‘Innerspace’ makes to keep the story going and if you think too hard about it all (which you really shouldn’t) you could nit-pick this movie to death. And really don’t ponder too long over how quickly Quaid can sometimes navigate the inside of Martin Short. Its movie logic, not logic logic and your ability to accept this is a sign of a healthy, imaginative and loving mind.

Of course, it also helps that ‘Innerspace’ is hugely entertaining, nicely paced, expertly made and very funny. The back and forth between Quaid and Short is great, especially considering that they might share the same body but not the screen together, with their relationship functioning purely through dialogue. They’re utterly lovable as a couple. Throw in the chases, the miniature submarines zooming through blood vessels, intrigue, killer robotic submersibles, fine special effects work and the film is a bundle of fun.

Then Robert Picardo appears and that’s when the fun REALLY begins!

I’ve gushed for years that Robert Picardo’s performance in ‘Innerspace’ as The Cowboy is one of my favourite comedic pieces of acting in film. Indeed, if there was a sub-category called “Side Characters Who Get To Be The Lead Character For A While In a Movie” then he would easily claim the №1 spot with this. Picardo plays The Cowboy, a fence for the bad guys, and he’s a mean and serious Mexican who pretends he’s a cowboy from Hollywood movies. Quaid and Short capture him so Quaid can rearrange Martin Short’s face (just go with it) to resemble The Cowboy’s, thus taking his place and allowing Short to infiltrate the baddies.

And so Short is The Cowboy… except it obviously isn’t Martin Short but Robert Picardo now pretending to be Martin Short pretending to be a Mexican who’s pretending to be a cowboy. And it’s a phenomenal piece of comedic acting and one I never get tired of watching, especially when the rearrangement process starts breaking down. Not only that but Picardo brilliantly sells the idea that we are still watching Short’s character; it’s still the same guy we’re looking at. It’s the panicked looks, the darting glances, the flash of a nervous smile. It’s a wonderful example of how great acting can be the best special effect there is. It’s a performance I absolutely adore.

‘Innerspace’ is typical Joe Dante — its fun, smart, clever (but never TOO clever), film-literate, exciting, anarchic, warm-hearted and simply in love with the delight of escapism. If you haven’t seen ‘Innerspace’ in years it holds up incredibly well decades later; it’s got a sense of fun that might be susceptible to miniaturisation but is totally impervious to the aging process.