Imagine pouring your heart into creating a movie based on a beloved video game franchise, only for it to flop spectacularly and become a punchline for decades. That's the dramatic saga behind the 1993 Super Mario Bros. film, which dared to reinvent the iconic plumber's world in ways that left fans and critics scratching their heads. But here's where it gets controversial: what if that "failure" was actually ahead of its time, or at least a bold experiment worth revisiting? Stick around as we dive into the wild twists of its development, from scrapped scripts to bizarre plot twists that could have changed everything.
Released in theaters during the spring of 1993, the film directed by Annabel Jankel and Rocky Morton faced immediate backlash from both movie reviewers and dedicated Nintendo game enthusiasts. Fans were outraged that this cinematic take bore little to no resemblance to the cheerful, arcade-style adventures they knew from the games. Instead of the vibrant, fun-filled Mushroom Kingdom filled with bouncing castles and power-up mushrooms, the movie reimagined it as a gritty, polluted urban nightmare reminiscent of the sci-fi thriller Blade Runner—a stark, metallic wasteland crawling with decay and danger. Even the main antagonist, the fiery Koopa known as Bowser (inspired by ancient Chinese dragon turtle myths), got a total makeover: transformed into a menacing humanoid dinosaur called King Koopa, portrayed by the legendary actor Dennis Hopper.
The storyline itself was a fresh invention, far removed from the games' straightforward hero quests. Picture this: a massive meteor that wiped out the dinosaurs in our timeline actually spawned two parallel universes. In one, mammals take over, leading to the rise of humans like us. In the other, dinosaurs survive, evolve, and become intelligent beings strikingly similar to humanity. Set in 1990s Brooklyn, the story follows the Mario brothers—plumbers Mario, played by Bob Hoskins, and his sibling Luigi, acted by John Leguizamo—as they accidentally discover a gateway between these worlds and tumble into 'Dino World.' There, they must rescue a captured dinosaur princess (Samantha Mathis) and thwart King Koopa's sinister plan to fuse his realm with theirs, potentially dooming our own.
Now, the original Super Mario Bros. games were already bursting with surreal, imaginative elements—like warp zones and endless underground pipes—so attempting a straightforward adaptation might have been a risky move from the start. Still, Jankel and Morton's version strayed so far that it alienated many. That said, this movie has its staunch supporters who argue for its merits, praising the eye-catching set designs, unconventional storytelling, and sheer audacity. For instance, some fans point to articles like those on SlashFilm that claim it's superior to the recent 2023 film in creativity and boldness. It's a polarizing take that begs the question: can a radical departure from source material still capture its spirit?
Delving deeper, the bond between Mario and Luigi is portrayed as a classic sibling relationship, with the older Mario having stepped up to raise his energetic younger brother Luigi after a mysterious tragedy struck their parents. Hoskins and Leguizamo brought strong on-screen rapport to this dynamic, making it feel authentic and heartfelt. But here's the part most people miss: according to a 1992 Los Angeles Times piece, an early script draft from acclaimed writer Barry Morrow—who'd just snagged an Oscar for Rain Man—envisioned their connection as even more emotionally charged and intricate, mirroring the deep, transformative relationship between the brothers in that famous film. In fact, Morrow's version positioned it as a prequel, set entirely before the fantastical elements kick in.
To understand this better, let's clarify: Morrow, fresh off his Rain Man success (a story about a selfish car dealer, Charlie, played by Tom Cruise, who reconnects with his autistic brother Raymond, Dustin Hoffman, during a cross-country journey filled with heartfelt moments and personal growth), essentially crafted a Super Mario Bros. script that echoed that film's themes. Here, Mario takes on the role of the worldly Charlie, while Luigi embodies the vulnerable Raymond. Instead of high-stakes collectibles dealing, these Marios are everyday blue-collar workers embarking on a road-trip-like adventure—a kind of video game quest—that helps them bond and understand each other. The twist? The entire movie wraps up before any portals or dinosaurs enter the picture, keeping it grounded in reality.
And this is where the plot thickens with controversy: the film's production was rocky right from the jump. Nintendo handed the rights to an American studio with carte blanche, trusting their brand's strength to shine through no matter what. But executives struggled to spin a narrative from the games' simple fairy-tale core—a heroic plumber rescuing a princess from a dragon-like foe. Morrow was their first big hire, a prestigious choice given his recent accolades. Because the characters are plumbers, insiders jokingly dubbed his draft 'Drain Man,' a playful nod to its similarities with Rain Man.
As the Times article revealed, Morrow's script was intentionally modeled after Rain Man, serving as a prequel to the games' events. It unfolds solely in our real world, before Mario and Luigi venture off to battle Koopas in the Mushroom Kingdom. To differentiate it, these brothers are portrayed as ordinary working-class guys, not flashy entrepreneurs. The film would culminate in their emotional growth, sans any magic or monsters—a concept that, while faithful in its own way to the brothers' dynamic, might have felt too subdued for a franchise known for jumps and power-ups.
Unsurprisingly, this approach clashed with the vision of the producers, who, per the article, urged Morrow to aim for something grander: a widely accessible action-packed blockbuster along the lines of beloved hits like E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (the heartwarming alien adventure), Batman (the dark knight's comic-book escapades), Ghostbusters (the hilarious paranormal exterminators), or Terminator 2: Judgment Day (the futuristic robot showdown). Rain Man was a smash in its own right, but it wasn't the explosive spectacle they had in mind for Super Mario Bros.
Later iterations fared no better. Screenwriters Jim Jennewein and Tom S. Parker (with Jennewein known for kid-friendly flicks like Richie Rich and The Flintstones) proposed structuring it like The Wizard of Oz—a journey from our everyday reality into a fantastical parallel dimension, complete with satirical jabs at classic fairy tales. Think of it as Shrek avant la lettre, poking fun at princess rescues and heroic quests a full decade before that ogre hit the scene. Yet, even this didn't quite gel.
Enter producer Roland Joffé, celebrated for intense dramas such as The Killing Fields and The Mission, who admired the quirky sci-fi series Max Headroom and sought its creators, the duo Annabel Jankel and Rocky Morton (who happened to be married). They pitched the outlandish dinosaur-themed alternate universe idea, and Joffé was hooked. Timing played a role too—the Super Nintendo game Super Mario World, featuring the loyal dinosaur companion Yoshi, had just dropped, making a dino-centric plot feel somewhat plausible. The rest, as they say, is cinematic history, albeit a box-office disaster.
As we know all too well, the 1993 film tanked both critically and commercially, taking three decades for another Super Mario Bros. adaptation to emerge. But here's a thought-provoking counterpoint: in an era when fan service often trumps creativity, was this film's failure a cautionary tale against playing it too safe, or did it prove that some franchises demand fidelity? Do you think the original script's Rain Man vibe could have worked as a deeper character study, or was the dinosaur dystopia a misguided gamble? Share your takes in the comments—agree, disagree, or propose your own 'what if' scenarios!
