The first fifteen to twenty minutes were hard to sit through: „What is this shit?“, I thought constantly, confronted with this trashy high key, television-like look, these all very American high school scenes full of average all too pretty boys and girls who seem to have evolved out of, well, some crappy high school movies. There were the fucking football scenes, the fucking flirting-in-class-scenes, the everybody-darling-versus-the-hot-but-successless-guy-constellation, the science class establishing neardieness as something cool and teaching the pseudo scientific philosophical background for what follows — here a war against evil space bugs:

„The only good bug is a dead bug“, „We have understand the bug in order to kill the bug“ and „We are looking for a kind of smart bug.“ are some as absurd as brilliant lines coming after that, all of them finding it´s way to stamp themselves into my memory. Hell yeah, what follows is actually one of the smartest, most subversiv and coolest science fictions I´ve ever seen, combined with an almost Shakespearian four-way love-story.

The way STARSHIP TROOPERS positions itself at the borders between satire and epic, authentic feelings about honor and love and its ironic flip side, between philosophical richness and mad as hell trash makes it what it is: a cultish fun movie wanting you think further and reflect, unwilling to reveal its own — let´s say political — point of view, full of Brechtchian moves until the scene near the end where everybody is celebrating the fear the alien creature (who’s mouth looks like exactly like a giant pussy in which it sucks out the brains of its victims). What is there to celebrate if someone is afraid of you? Damn, I´d love to have a chat with the writers. This is some kind of smart shit.