It’s a peculiar kind of heartbreak, isn't it? That moment when a beloved piece of tech finally gives up the ghost. In 1987, maybe it was your trusty VCR finally chewing a tape, or the family station wagon sputtering its last. But for Sam Treadwell (David Andrews), living in the high-tech (yet strangely beige) future of 2017, the breakdown is catastrophic: his Cherry 2000 (Pamela Gidley), the perfect android companion, has short-circuited during, shall we say, aquatic activities. Finding a replacement body isn't like picking up a new toaster; it means hiring a hard-bitten tracker and venturing into the treacherous, lawless wasteland known as "The Zone." And thus begins Cherry 2000, a film whose journey to our screens was almost as rugged as the adventure it depicts.

The setup is pure pulp brilliance. Sam, a buttoned-down executive utterly lost without his idealized robotic partner, learns that identical Cherry 2000 bodies are still warehoused in a defunct factory deep within the dangerous Zone. To retrieve one, he needs someone who knows how to navigate this post-collapse landscape – enter E. Johnson, played with fiery, world-weary charisma by Melanie Griffith. Fresh off her Golden Globe-nominated turn in Something Wild (1986) and a couple of years before her iconic role in Working Girl (1988), Griffith crafts a character who is tough, capable, and utterly unimpressed by Sam's naive quest, yet agrees to guide him for the right price. Their mismatched pairing – his awkward idealism versus her pragmatic survivalism – forms the heart of this dusty, off-kilter road movie.

Director Steve De Jarnatt, who would later give us the equally unique and underappreciated apocalyptic thriller Miracle Mile (1988), guides the action with a certain rough-and-tumble energy. Cherry 2000 blends elements of sci-fi, western, action, and even romance into a concoction that feels distinctly of its time. The journey across the Nevada desert (where much of the film was shot, lending it an authentic grit) is punctuated by encounters with bizarre desert dwellers and explosive set pieces. Remember those souped-up, ramshackle vehicles battling it out? The practical effects and stunt work, while perhaps not ILM-polished, have that tangible, weighty feel we often miss today. E. Johnson's heavily modified 1965 Ford Mustang is practically a character in itself, a symbol of rugged independence tearing through the desolation. You just knew that car could handle anything the Zone threw at it.
Here's a slice of behind-the-screen reality: Cherry 2000 actually finished filming way back in 1985. However, due to the financial woes plaguing its studio, Orion Pictures (a company that gave us classics like The Terminator and RoboCop), and some reportedly lukewarm test screenings, the film sat on the shelf. It finally received a very limited theatrical release in late 1987, barely making a blip at the box office against its estimated $10 million budget. Where did it find its audience? You guessed it – right here in VHS Heaven, on late-night cable, and video store shelves. It became a quintessential cult classic, discovered and cherished by viewers drawn to its quirky charm and adventurous spirit precisely because it wasn't a blockbuster hit. It felt like uncovering a hidden gem, a secret handshake among genre fans. The writers, Michael Almereyda (who later directed Ethan Hawke in 2000's Hamlet) and Lloyd Fonvielle (who also worked on The Mummy (1999)), crafted a story that, despite its sci-fi trappings, tapped into themes of human connection and the difference between idealized fantasy and messy reality.


Let's be honest, the film isn't perfect. The pacing sometimes meanders, and the tone can occasionally feel a bit uncertain, shifting from goofy encounters (like the overly enthusiastic villain Lester, played with manic glee by the great Tim Thomerson of Trancers fame) to moments of genuine danger and unexpected tenderness. The depiction of the future, with its clunky computers and specific anxieties about relationships and technology, feels charmingly retro now. But that's part of the appeal, isn't it? It’s a snapshot of 80s B-movie creativity, unafraid to be a little weird, a little rough around the edges. David Andrews plays Sam with just the right amount of bewildered sincerity, making his eventual growth feel earned. And Melanie Griffith truly anchors the film; E. Johnson is resourceful, cynical, yet possesses an underlying vulnerability that makes her far more compelling than the idealized android Sam initially seeks. You can't help but root for her.
Cherry 2000 is a film that embodies the spirit of discovery that made prowling the aisles of the video store so exciting. It’s an oddball adventure with a surprising amount of heart beating beneath its dusty, post-apocalyptic exterior. It might not be high art, but it's a whole lot of fun, packed with practical stunts, memorable characters, and a premise that sticks with you. It perfectly captures that unique blend of action and quirky character work that defined so many beloved 80s flicks that found their true home on tape.

This score reflects the film's undeniable cult charm, Melanie Griffith's fantastic performance, and its status as a fun, genre-bending adventure that overcomes its production hurdles and occasional tonal wobbles. It's not a flawless masterpiece, but its unique spirit and entertaining journey make it a worthy resident of VHS Heaven, representing the kind of slightly off-kilter discovery that made renting movies back then such a blast.