Super Mario Bros.' Stars Openly Mocked The Script & Directors While Shooting

Rocky Morton's and Annabel Jankel's "Super Mario Bros." is fun, darn it. When it was released in 1993, critics and fans openly slammed the film for its weird story and bonkers ideas. More than anything, the public seemed to hate it because it didn't resemble the Nintendo game on which it is based. The games were whimsical adventures, all about a brave plumber turned hero rescuing a kidnapped princess from an evil, fire-breathing dinosaur. His weapon was not a sword or a lance, but magical mushrooms that increased his size, like in "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," and occasionally some fireballs from a magical flower. 

The film, in stark contrast, was about a parallel universe where dinosaurs had evolved into humanoids. The setting was not a sun-dappled mushroom kingdom, but a clanking, rusty urban hellscape reminiscent of "Blade Runner." The magical fire flowers turned into hand-held flamethrowers, and the miniature Goombas became hulking, trenchcoat-wearing monsters with apple-sized heads. 

The film also had a notoriously troubled production. A 1992 article in the Los Angeles Times, printed months before the film's release, quoted Hopper and Mario actor Bob Hoskins as hating the script and being frustrated with the constant, constant re-writes. Hopper claimed that he doesn't bother going deep into character, as he knew the script would be re-written by the time he got to the set. Hoskins, likewise, noted that researching the role of Mario was a churlish exercise, as shooting conditions were in constant flux. More than anything, the actors would openly mock the film's two directors, a husband-and-wide duo best known for creating the TV series "Max Headroom." It seems that the cast and crew referred to the pair, disparagingly, as "Rockabel." Hopper called them The Hydra, given how many "heads" would appear to give him conflicting direction. 

Also reported in the Times article was a complaint that cinematographer Dean Semler had about the directors. Semler had already photographed multiple high-profile and celebrated movies such as "The Road Warrior," "Young Guns," and "The Power of One." Semler had won an Academy Award for his work on "Dances with Wolves." He knew what he was doing. It seems, though, that Morton and Jankel would micromanage him, instructing him on what kind of lighting to use, what kind of lenses to install, and even specific camera setups. With that much instruction, Semler wondered "Why'd you hire me?" 

About the constantly changing scripts, Hopper was initially frustrated, but eventually just threw all caution to the wind, inventing his character as he went along, saying: 

"I suspect it will probably be rewritten. [...] The script had probably been rewritten five or six times by the time I arrived here. I don't really bother with it anymore. I just go in and do it scene by scene. I figure it's not going to hurt my character."

Hoskins took a similarly resigned approach. He knew that everything was changing all the time, so memorizing dialogue was an exercise in futility. Indeed, the constant changes made researching Mario quite difficult, so he just didn't bother. This annoyed his kid, however, who was a fan of the video games. How dare his father play Mario if he didn't know anything about Mario? Hoskins said: 

"All these rewrites get frustrating so I don't do too much research. [...] The trick is: don't take the job too seriously, turn up and do your day's work. That's all. My seven-year-old son is quite depressed about my playing Mario. [...] He knows I can't even program a VCR, yet alone play the game. How do I prepare for the role? I'm the right shape. I've got a mustache. I worked as a plumber's apprentice for about three weeks, and set the plumber's boots on fire with a blowtorch."

Ouch. 

The "plumber's boots" that Hoskins mentioned were the outsize mechanical "stompers" that allowed Mario and Luigi to temporarily fly through the air. He also handled a flamethrower in the movie, and it seems he accidentally set his own shoes ablaze during the shoot. If he had been injured, though, no news has ever been revealed about it. 

John Leguizamo played Mario's little brother Luigi in "Super Mario Bros.," and he, too, was frustrated by all the re-writes. He admitted that he lost track of the film's series of events, saying: 

"New pages. [...] Every day's a new page. It's like waiting for the news. What the hell happened yesterday? And there it is: All new, all live. 24 hours: Ding, ding, ding."

Morton himself noted that the constant re-writes were actually perfectly normal, and the movie grew organically from a natural filmmaking process. This was a sentiment echoed by producer Fred Caruso, who — in a somewhat dismissive fashion — said that rewrites were necessary to force something as insubstantial as the "Super Mario Bros." video game to the big screen, and he has a point. The original "Super Mario Bros." game doesn't have rich characters, deep motivations, or even much of story. It's just an adventure game about stomping on turtles. Caruso was quoted as saying: 

"It's not unusual to go through many script changes, [...] and especially with this particular film, because this comes from a video game that has no story. Everything we're doing is made up and it comes from the flow of what we're shooting. All the games have are the characters." 

The result, as mentioned, was not received kindly, and "Super Mario Bros." bombed, making less than $39 million on a $48 million budget. Regardless, the film's weirdness is appreciated by an ever-widening cult audience, and I, for one, stand in its defense. The production may have been troubled, but the film is a hoot.