The 10 Lessons Learned from '10,000 BC'

Historians hate it when movies take liberties with the archeological truth. From the homoerotic overkill of something like 300, which got blasted for turning Spartans into studly supermodels, to the recent reaming given to The Other Boleyn Girl for Harlequin-ing the reign of Henry VIII, the past gets perverted a great deal of the time. Now, no one is expecting a 100% accurate depiction of events long ago, and the only engaging documentary of the time would be one actually made in said era (Morgan Spurlock presents Renaissance Me!). So in essence, we have to take the good with the bad, the dramatic license with the downright ludicrous (Elizabeth: The Golden Age, anyone?).

Now comes Roland Emmerich’s Neanderthal nonsense 10,000 BC. It mixes and matches its historic perspective in a mishmash of anthropology and inanity. Aside from the fact that several phases of human existence seem to be living within a few days walk of each other, we get beasts and byplay from several significant epochs. Clearly, this pulp popcorn movie is not meant to be an educational trek through time. But one has to wonder what real lessons could be learned from studying the stupidity onscreen. After a weekend of rumination, here are some suggestions for the clear cut instruction it provides. In many cases, the educational elements are more intriguing than the entertainment - or lack thereof:

You’d think that only your standard Caucasian clan of the cave bear would worship a bearded, long haired proto-human with magical powers. But back before the actual Christ, almost every wilderness tribe supposedly had a fable focusing on a great white savior. No matter the skin color, tribal make-up, or hunter/gatherer mentality, seems only Anglos can be angels in the prehistoric world.

Language is often called the original prejudice. Even today, it remains a barrier to better understanding and international accord. But back at the dawn of man, people really didn’t communicate with each other, and for good reason - they couldn’t. With broken English the regional standard, few were fluent in either gobbledygook or mumbo jumbo. Some could swing a few words of claptrap. Unintelligible gibberish, on the other hand, remained the true mother tongue.

It’s always sad when you lose a loved one. It’s even worse when her death is meant as a symbolic gesture of karmic adjustment and potential narrative melodrama. But there’s no real need to worry - old people’s souls are here! That’s right, as long as the proper cosmic connections are made, and the running time has reached the right point, a dying old coot will supply your dead love with a new infusion of life-giving spirit.

So you’re a legendary feline, mouth filled with an impressive pair of torso-tearing incisors. You’re trapped in a hole that is rapidly filling up, flash flood style, with water. You’re about to die when - Eureka! - you’re saved by a waifish caveman. Do you - (a) eat the caveman? (b) eat the caveman? or (c) ignore your eons of instinctual behavior and spare the human, only to later become his benefactor and bodyguard?

Wooly and elephantine, few would view these oversized behemoths as Triple Crown contenders. But, apparently, if you get a group of hygienically challenged prairie dwellers with spears made from your relatives chasing after you, it’s Preakness time! That’s right, these two ton terrors are rather fleet of foot when scrawny, hungry Cro-Magnons come calling. Even better, they’ll go Lord of the Rings Mumak on you if given half a chance.

So, you’ve mastered engineering, using ancient technology and science to develop complex construction systems. You’re learning is so advanced that you’ve also mastered both land and sea. You even have domain over man and his animal brethren. Yet the minute some gal comes along with a symbolic scar on her hand, you get all gooey. In fact, your false beliefs are so great you instantly find yourself vulnerable to complete destruction. And the value of your faith is what again?

From the most primitive biped to the least Aryan Nazi, Topaz peepers can only mean one thing - troubles a’ brewin’. Though we take it for granted nowadays, and tend to celebrate those who’ve been “blessed” with Cobalt coloration, the indigenous peoples of several eons ago went bonkers upon seeing such an optically gifted individual. Apparently, it has something to do with the rarity of the condition, the startling appearance, and the overall concept of dreaminess.

Though they looked like a cornball version of John Dante’s demons from Twilight Zone: The Movie, the gigantic dino-birds of ages part actually resemble their supposed genetic ancestry. They stalk and hunt their prey in high foliage fashion, popping out at predetermined internals to give anyone watching a complimentary jolt. They use their beaks for ripping and shredding. They can climb great heights with little or no predisposition toward same. And they squawk like Hell.

When you’re trying to dictate the direction of your domain’s inhabitants - both natural born and “invited” - it’s imperative that you keep the references to Jean-Paul Gautier and Tarsem to a minimum. You should look like a ruler, a visionary leader of all creatures great and small, not some foreign filmmaker’s fever dream. Covering oneself from head to toe with what looks like a teenage girl’s canopy bed drape is hilarious, not heroic…or haute couture.
 

Audiences never learn, do they? Even when the reviews indicate that a film will be nothing more than a semi-involving example of cheesy effects and stilted dialogue, they still plunk down their dosh and turn those styles. 10,000 BC raked in over $3,500 per year over the 7 March weekend, taking the number one spot away from position pretenders Raven Simone (College Road Trip) and Jeremy Statham (The Bank Job). Apparently, there’s an equally exponential amount of suckers born every minute.