You can tell what sort of movie this is by the way the music changes depending on whether we're looking at the (extremely phallic) American or Russian missiles; whether we're watching them changing aim, whether we're watching them launch, whether we're watching them run out of fuel, whether we're watching them approaching the asteroid or strike it in a cataclysmic 'strobe' effect or whether we're just watching them gleam in space. And the bi-national musical themes sort of merge when the missiles join up together. All the while there is helpful large lettering on the control centre monitors, telling you which missile-launching satellite is slowly going through its motions. There's also an unmistakable deep synthesiser fnaaaar-fnaaarp to indicate that we're watching the asteroid. Asteroid, mind you, not meteor. The meteor got killed in the first reel. So the missiles are the actual stars of this cross between Battlestar Galactica and Paint Drying: The Final Reckoning. The message must be that 'nuclear missiles are actually capable of doing a lot of good, given the right circumstances'. I suppose a lot of people, apart from the scriptwriter, worked really hard to get this film to the screen. It's unfortunate that the costume designer really did a number on Sean Connery, who doesn't let the impending end of the world interfere with his attempts to score with the (no disrespect to Miss Wood) somewhat mumsy Russian translator. Mind you, when you're locked up in those command centers underneath New York you tend to get a bit, er, undiscriminating. And Karl Malden keeps his Trilby hat on as long as he can. Other reviewers have pointed out the occasional sparkly bits in this terrible movie, but it's a shame the only enjoyment to be had is in picking it apart. I gave it a 'two' because I was thinking, 'if the asteroid is in space, it's weightless - so why do they need 20 hundred-megaton warheads to divert it?', and then in a flash I understood the theory of relativity. Darn! I hope I didn't spoil relativity for you!