Supernova doesn't omit the names of its actual directors (Walter Hill, Francis Ford Coppola) in deference to the faux-humility dictated by the Dogme 95 manifesto--it just plain stinkbombs. But in a fun way. A space ambulance answers an interstellar distress call and ends up with a monster aboard. Sound familiar? So there's no danger of anything innovative happening, but there are a couple of laughs. Everything involving the individual-size transporter pods that require the crew members to get naked in order to keep all their molecules together-but-separate when warp-drive/beaming is funny, from Robert Forster's guest-splat to the hootworthy final mildmeld of hero-duo James Spader and Angela Bassett. Also the absurd buffitude of practically the whole cast--Spader's trademark lean smarminess is strangely muted by his newly-found gym-body, and no one ever accused Lou Diamond Phillips of being Big before either. There's a blue giant star about to go supernova, a ninth-dimensional alien force threatening to destroy humanity, and the obligatory superhuman badguy aboard, but the movie doesn't really care, and neither will you.