Experience Cinematic

Someone's Watching Me! (Carpenter 1978)

2011-09-09T12:06:00.009-04:00

I think it is forgivable that whenever a TV movie comes up in conversation, the natural expectation is that the film is going to be trash. The TV movie in the early 1990s is synonymous with “cheap cash in on headline making crime,” while the television movie in the twenty-first century is synonymous with "the format where pseudo-stars’ careers go to die on either the Lifetime or Sy Fy Channels." As such, the notion that that a television film could be good, let alone as great as Duel (Spielberg 1971) is likely an alien one to most audiences.

John Carpenter’s single effort on the TV movie front, the 1978 film Someone’s Watching Me!, is not close to being in Duel’s league. It is, however, a darn fine film in its own right, and arguably one of the more thematically complex films in Carpenter’s body of work, despite a rather simple narrative. Leigh Michaels (Laura Hutton) is a woman who has just moved to L.A. looking to make a fresh start, taking a job as a director at a local television station and moving into a modern, high-tech apartment. She quickly finds herself the target of a peeping-tom-come-stalker, who makes repeated phone calls, sends odd gifts, and is seemingly able to mess with the electricity in her apartment. Without a clear, legally defined crime, the police are unable to offer much assistance, which results in Leigh to take the investigation into her own hands, assisted by a friendly co-worker (Carpenter regular Adrienne Barbeau) and new romantic partner (David Birney).

While the setup could have made for a decent, if low-rent thriller, Carpenter elevates the material by using the premise as a metaphor for the struggles of women entering and fighting for space and agency in a male dominated culture, by literally having Leigh fight for dominance over her home space. It is no mistake that the obstacles which Leigh runs into over the course of the film are associated with male figures, and half the fun of the film comes from watching Leigh both refuse and subvert the various roles she is expected to play by these men. Within this context, it is also no surprise that the identity of the stalker is of little value: he is important for what he represents, not who he is.

These feminist themes within the film become all the more relevant given that the film also is meta-commentary on the potentially abusive relationship between directors and their subjects. Within the opening scene of the film, we are shown our peeping tom tormenting another victim over the phone, and Carpenter’s writing and directing are carefully controlled so as to establish a the subtext of stalker-as-director, such as having the character makes “suggestions” as to what his victim should do for his gaze, and focusing his shots on the technology the criminal is using to watch and record his victim’s actions and reactions. The violent form of direction on the part of the stalker is contrasted throughout the film to Leigh’s lighter and more constructive approach, at not only her job, but also in her personal life. Her first encounter with Paul (Birney), for example, involves Leigh directly setting up their meeting, as she gently nudges Paul into the actions she wishes him to take by involving him in the situation rather than trying to dominate his choices of actions.

In terms of film making, Someone’s Watching Me! is overall a success, with Carpenter managing to wring out the most tension he can given the restrictions of the network television format. Originally written as a feature film, one can imagine there is a more extreme version of the film which originally existed on the page, which addressed the seedier elements of the story more directly. While the toning down of the content does not ruin the film, the tension in the film feels muted. Meanwhile, the technical restrictions of a twelve day television shoot do result in the film having a made for television feel about it despite Carpenter's attempts at a more cinematic look, making the film feel “safer” than was likely intended. However, Carpenter’s skill at composing striking frames is on full display, even though the reformatting of the film’s full frame image into a widescreen image for the DVD does tend to make some scenes feel claustrophobic when they should not.

The cast as a whole turn in solid performances, with Hutton being the stand out, making her character authoritative and powerful figure without falling into the trap of playing the character as too hardened. Barbeau is given little to do beyond playing the best friend role, while Birney likewise is left playing the concerned lover. However, the trio has good chemistry together, and it is a shame that Hutton and Birney never went on to appear in another Carpenter film.

Overall, Someone’s Watching Me! is a minor work from Carpenter, but a fun one with a strong cast and sharp writing. While a purchase of the film is a bit much unless you are a big fan of the film, are looking to complete a collection of Carpenter’s work, or have a nostalgic love of 1970s television programing, the film is worth a rental if you having nothing immediately pressing that you have to see. Or have Duel to watch. Because Duel is just plain amazing.

Paranoia (Mitchelle 2011)

2011-07-22T16:03:00.009-04:00

(NOTE - As a general rule, I don't watch the special features on a DVD prior to a review, and in the interest of producing a review in a timely fashion, I decided to stick to that rule here.)

I have to be honest: when I first saw the trailer for Ryan Mitchelle and Brad Jones’ 2011 DTV film Paranoia, I was a little concerned. From a technical standpoint, the film appeared to be rather impressive for a no-budget, shot on video production, and it appeared to hold the promise of an atmosphere reminiscent of a 1980s indie thriller. However, what little of the narrative was shown in the trailer seemed rather familiar. More importantly, from what was shown, it seemed to indicated the film may have a twist ending. Given this, plotting would be crucial for such an ending to work, and while Jones is a talented screenwriter with a gift for dialogue and character, the plotting of his films has occasionally gotten the best of him.

Thankfully, most of that worrying was for not, as Paranoia is a solid film which promises even greater things from the pairing of Mitchelle and Jones. While not perfect, nor quite the existential thriller that Mitchelle or Jones likely intended, Paranoia is a strong effort that manages to make the most of its limited resources, capturing the mood and of a seemingly unending bad night and the feeling of isolation that comes with it, even if the narrative does not entirely come together as it could have.
As Paranoia begins, Mark Bishop (Jones) is in the midst of coping with a divorce when an intruder enters his home. The encounter between the two ends with the intruder’s death. Unable to contact the police, feeling more than a little paranoid about how the event could be interpreted, and believing that the intruder may be the serial killer that has been attacking local residents, Bishop decides to dispose of the body himself, beginning a night of hell that will include multiple deaths and strange events Bishop cannot explain. Is he merely suffering from paranoia, or is there something else going on?

As I noted, Paranoia is not quite a thriller, and is better described as a horrific character study that flirts with black comedy from time to time. Anchored by yet another fine performance from Jones, the film is at its strongest during the second act, as Bishop travels about town as he attempts to get a grip on his situation. Episodic in nature, these sections of the film allow Jones to flex his acting chops as Bishop gradually falls apart given his insane situation, giving the film a flavour of Martin Scorsese’s 1985 dark comedy After Hours (though the films are entirely different in terms of tone and the levels of madness their respective protagonists must deal with). A particular highlight from this section of the film is a stop over at a restaurant where Bishop has an encounter with a waitress played by Jillian Zurawski. The scene ranges from dramatic to horrific to comic, and gives Zurawski a chance to show how far she has come as an actress from her early performances in Jones prior films and videos.

The film is less successful though when it attempts to address the questions of Bishop’s mental state and the reality of his situation. As expected, the answers to these questions come in the form of a twist, and I admit that I did not guess what the twist is. However, without getting into spoilers, the reason I did not guess the ending of the film is because it really is not possible to do so with the information provided prior to the big reveal. The ending does makes sense, and I understand what Jones and Mitchelle were attempting thematically, but within the context of the overall film, the answers are too literal, and the lack of set up early in the film allows the reveal scene to fall into the trap of being exposition heavy. It doesn’t negate the joys of the film, but the revelation is not the punch in the gut one would hope for.

As an overall production, Mitchelle fully delivers in his duties as director, cinematographer, and editor. While still hampered by a non-existent budget and working with some non-professional actors, he keeps the film focused, effectively developing the tone of the film and ensuring the performances from the less experienced cast are consistent. While still clearly shot on digital video, Mitchelle does manage to achieve a number of shots that have a film like feel, and his editing is solid, though he does tend to use the fade to black option a few too many times.

The hero of the film though is Michael “Skitch” Schiciano, whose musical score captures the feeling of a low key 1980s thriller without sounding like an imitation. Appropriately minimalist and meditative, the score manages to support the film throughout and never feels out of place when used. With any luck, Schiciano will return to participate in future endeavours from Mitchelle and Jones.
For fans of Jones and crew, Paranoia is a must see, one of the stronger shot on video efforts out in the market, and with any luck the film will not be their only effort in the DTV market. The film can be purchased directly from the filmmakers as a region free DVD, though the disc is in the NTSC format, so those using PAL should take note.

The Return of the Evil Dead?

2011-07-12T19:52:00.005-04:00

So, it seems we are getting another Evil Dead film, roughly twenty years after Bruce Campbell as Ash last battled the deadites. So its time to pull out the boomsticks, gas up the chainsaws, and start to celebrate, right?

Well, I wouldn’t be so fast, because from has been said, we are not getting a fourth entry in the Evil Dead series, but a full on remake, to be independently produced by Sam Raimi, Rob Tapert, and Bruce Campbell. The film is to be directed by Fede Alvarez, and will be, in Campbell’s words, “[s]cary as hell.” The production will apparently based in Michigan, and will begin soon.

Now, allow me to be clear: I wish Fede Alvarez all the luck in the world. If Raimi, Tapert and Campbell believe in this man, I see no reason at this time not too trust them. But I honestly feel like I need to ask this question:

Does anybody honestly want this film?

When I ask that question, I don’t mean “does anyone want Evil Dead 4?” There are plenty of people who want to see that film, enough people that Raimi, Campbell and Tarpert are pestered with questions about it every time they are interviewed. But when that question is asked, I think it is more than fair to say that the person asking the question wants to know if-and-when Raimi is going to direct another entry in the series that stars Bruce Campbell as Ash Williams, the bumbling idiot for a hero whose ongoing torture at the hands of the deadites has resulted in terror and laughter for over three films, several videogames, and numerous comics. I doubt that when the question has been asked of them, the interviewer has wanted to know if a remake was in the works that did not feature Campbell or Raimi in the key creative roles they have filled in the prior films.

The importance of the Raimi/Campbell partnership cannot be over estimated here, because when looking at the original Evil Dead, one thing that is clear is that the narrative of the film is not particularly compelling. The story, in which a group of college kids go out into the woods, inadvertently release demonic forces that proceed to possess and/or kill them one by one is a riff on the Night of the Living Dead, a film that has been drawn from time and again. More importantly, The Evil Dead is not a particularly well written riff either, with many paper thin characters delivering some questionable dialogue. This latter point is not helped by the questionable acting skills on the part of some cast members.

Yet the film works, and is a classic of the genre. Its success is primarily the result of the energetic direction of Raimi, who brings a sense of style and dread to the situation that a lesser director would never have captured, and from presence of star Campbell as Ash. While his performance is somewhat rough, Campbell manages to perfectly capture in the film just how much of an average guy Ash is, and more importantly, how much of a hero the character is not. While hardly the blowhard jackass of the films that would follow, Ash in the original film survives not because he is a hero, or smarter than any of the other characters, but through sheer dumb luck of being the most fun character to screw around with. It is Raimi's increasingly Loony Toons approach to torturing this character time and again that engaged audiences over three films, as he places Ash into increasingly horrific siutations, while at the same time encouraging audiences to feel less and less sympathy for the character.

So, without those two key elements, then what will make this impending Evil Dead remake a film of interest? There is no question that as a remake, it will have audiences curious to see it, but it is an audience whose reasons stem from their history with the prior films, who will come in with high expectations. Meeting those expectations will be uphill battle given the absence of the two people who made The Evil Dead, well, The Evil Dead. For some, this will be the breaking point for their acceptance of the film, regardless of whether or not the film turns out to be any good.

What makes the choice of the remake all the more baffling is that the people pushing this remake through are the very people behind the original film. This is not a remake we blame a greedy studio for, as the project appears to be the result of the cumulative efforts of Raimi, Campbell and Tapert This begs a simple question: just what does the trio hope to accomplish with this film? When George A. Romero wrote and produced a remake of The Night of the Living Dead in 1990, the reason was simple, if a little crass: to make back the money lost over the years due the copyright misunderstanding that put the original film in the public domain upon its original release. Raimi, Tapert and Campbell all appear to have maintained control over the rights to the series, though that does not rule out the financial motive altogether. Still, were that the case, selling off the rights to the studios who have been more than happy to remake everything under the sun would likely have been an easier way to make a buck rather than going the independent road.

Another hypothetical reason for the remake could be that with the trio being busy with other projects over the past decade, and/or they have all decided to move past Ash and the deadites, with hopes of ending the endless questions over further adventures of Ash through remaking the original film. Were this to be the case, it is a strategy that has ample amount of room to backfire, and worse, potentially tarnish the legacy of the original trilogy in the process. Again, a much simpler option would be to flat out tell fans that there will never be another Evil Dead film, because if the trio are tired of being asked about the series now, it will be nothing compared to wrathful complaints should the remake be rejected and hated.

As it stands, the remake seems to becoming regardless of whether or not anyone wants it. I hope for their own sakes, Raimi, Tapert and Campbell know what they are doing. More importantly, I hope Fede Alvarez knows what he is getting himself into. While Raimi and company might tarnish their past successes, a film that is anything less than great could kill Alvarez’s career before it even gets a chance to get going. Because if the film were to disappoint, even just slightly, he will likely be stuck with the unofficial title of being that guy who ruined the Evil Dead films, whether it is fair or not.

So good luck to the filmmakers of The New Evil Dead. You will need it.

RIP Peter Falk (1927-2011)

2011-06-24T15:15:00.004-04:00

Once again, another great has left us. And frankly, you cannot get much greater than Peter Falk, one of the most wonderful actors to have ever walked the planet. It almost goes without saying that his most famous role was that of Columbo, the iconic television detective who made regular appearances on television for over three decades in a series of TV movies. For that character alone, Falk would be missed, but his work outside of Columbo is no less memorable: The In-Laws, A Woman Under the Influence, The Princess Bride, and, in a personal favourite, Wings of Desire, where Falk plays himself and we discover that he is a former angle on Earth. How many other actors get to claim that?

Falks passed away at the age of 83. May he rest in peace, God be with his family, and his fans remember his work.

Green Lantern (Campbell 2011)

2011-06-22T20:50:00.006-04:00

The thing about origin stories is that they are only as compelling as their protagonist(s). Take X-Men - First Class (Vaughn 2011) from a few weeks ago: the film is filled with compelling characters, with flaws and passions that drive them in a time of social and political change. It is great stuff, and embraces its comic book mythology without letting it dominate the characters of the story.

Unfortunately for the Green Lantern comics, its protagonist is Hal Jordan, one of the blandest superheroes around. Devoid of depth and personality, Hal Jordan’s story is one of how a cocky hotshot pilot goes from being something of an insecure ass to having absolutely no personality at all. The comics supporting cast includes a love interest whose personality consists of being angry at almost all times, and a friend who was little more than a racisit stereotype in the earliest comics. Hal also happens to belong to a large intergalactic organization that polices the cosmos, filled with interesting characters that can thankfully be read in a title that does not feature Hal Jordon.

Sadly, film audiences are stuck with Jordan and his uninteresting supporting cast for the running length of Martin Campbell’s Green Lantern (2011), a film in which the worst elements of the source material get to come out to play, which include, but are not limited to: endless speeches about will power; endless speeches about fear; Hal sitting around feeling sorry for himself; people standing around telling us that Hal can be/is a great Green Lantern; Hal failing to actually do anything to convince us he is all that impressive; interesting characters pushed to the margins so time can be wasted on Hal and his uninteresting love life; characters standing around talking about how great the Green Lantern Corps are; the Green Lantern Corps failing to be impressive; and so on.

Ok, as you have likely guessed, I am not all that taken with either the comic book version of Hal Jordan, nor the film adapted from the comics. While I in no way hate the Green Lantern concept and universe, I have always felt that mythology of the Green Lantern universe was interesting in spite of its lead character. The idea of an intergalactic police force with rings that can create whatever the user wills is a fantastic concept, and when Hal Jordan disappears into the background, as he has in the past, the comics have been all the better for it. However, for some reason that continues to escape me to this day, the hardcore fans of Green Lantern are taken with Jordan, and since 2003 there has been an all out attempt restore Jordan as not only the main protagonist of the title, but also to hard sell readers on how great of a character he is.

The Green Lantern film is, in some ways, the culmination of those efforts. A $200 million plus dollar effort to launch the Green Lantern as a film franchise, and quite possibly launch the whole of the DC universe on film, the film is tasked with both introducing Hal Jordan and introducing the larger mythology of the Green Lantern Corps to a broad audience. In theory, these two tasks should have complimented one another perfectly, with Hal’s journey into becoming a full blown member of Corps providing plenty of opportunity to show off the Corps and explore the larger mythology. For some baffling reason however, the filmmakers behind Green Lantern did not see this as the case, as the Corps and overall mythology is put to the side to allow plenty of time to focus on Hal and his uninteresting adventures on Earth.

The film starts off well enough, as we witness the release of the film's supposed villain, Parallax, a entity that feeds on fear. Parallax quickly attacks and mortally wounds Abin Sur, the Green Lantern whose sector happens to include Earth, the planet he escapes to. Upon crashing to Earth, Sur has his ring seek out a new recruit to replace him, and it selects Hal Jordan (Ryan Reynolds), a test pilot whose cocky ego has jeopardized the employment of hundreds of employees at Ferris Aircrafts. Handed the ring and the power battery to charge it with, Hal is quickly taken to Oa, home of the Lantern Corps and the Guardians, the ancient race of aliens who created the Corps, in order to receive training in how to operate the ring..

Till this point in the film, almost everything works. The opening scenes are energetic and set a sense of the scale we can assume the rest of the film will involve, and while Jordan as a character is still little more than a cookie cutter hero, Reynolds does manage to bring a bit of charm to the role. However, once on Oa, the film goes south quick: the film barrels through these scenes, as if the filmmakers were not interested in the Corps at all, or embarrassed by them. More likely, the visual effects required to pull of Oa and the other Corps members was far too expensive to include for extended periods of time, even with a $200 million dollar budget. Given how quick these scenes flyby, Hal’s “training” comes across as being little more than an afternoon workshop, one followed by Hal giving up and returning to Earth after a one scene encounter/smack down with Sinestro (Mark Strong). This quick lapse into self defeat on Jordan’s part does nothing to endear him to the audience, and one wishes that when Hal bolts, the rest of the film would be spent following Sinestro actually trying to deal with the crisis at hand. Sadly, this does not happen.

The film pretty much falls apart from this point on, as a pointless secondary plot involving a scientist (Peter Sarsgaard) becoming infected by Parallax is introduced in order that Hal has a traditional Earth based villain to face, and endless time is spent with Hal and his angst about whether to quit the Corps or not. Reynolds tries his best to make these scenes work, but his charm only goes so far in covering up how uninteresting Jordan and his situation is. This problem is only made worse through the inclusion of rather predictable scenes that drag the pace of the down, including the typical “superhero public debut” moment, and a clumsy scene where Hal admits to a personal flaw the audience figured out sixty minutes earlier in the film.

Even though we are stuck with Jordan for the rest of the film, the failure to establish the Corps as a group of impressive heroes earlier in the film has major ramifications in the second and third acts, particularly with regards to Parallax. In every scene with the Corps, all we ever is them doing is standing about listening to Sinestro give speeches, or receiving a beat down from Parallax. Since we never see the Corps as an effective peace keeping force, Parallax easily defeating various Green Lanterns has no impact as far as establishing him as a credible threat. (SPOILER) In turn, Hal’s inevitable defeat of Parallax has no impact because the Corps earlier in the film are built up as straw men to make Hal look good. It all comes across as lazy and false, and does nothing to sell a larger audience on the Corps as being an interesting group of characters worth following. (END SPOILERS).

So far, I have primarily slammed the film in terms of overall narrative, but that is because the failures in these areas make some other aspects of the film harder to evaluate. For example, many critics have slammed Blake Lively’s performance as Carol Ferris, but I am not sure that such criticism is deserved when the actress is given nothing to work with on page. Likewise, the visual effects work is fantastic, but its impact is limited given how hollow the rest of the film is. Campbell's work as director here seems unsure and unfocused; more often than not, he seems to be mimicking prior superhero films rather than bringing his own sense of style to the film.

At the end of the day, Green Lantern is a mediocre film, but one that is faithful to its source material. It simply fails to make the the core mythology of the comics interesting, and has likely killed any possible film franchise for the character. Should a second film ever go into production, hopefully Warner Brothers will learn from their mistakes and perform a soft reboot of the films, with one of the other Green Lanterns at center stage in a tale that ditches the typical tropes of the superhero films.

But I am not holding my breath.

Green Lantern: Emerald Knights (Berkley, Montgomery, and Oliva 2011)

2011-06-14T23:17:00.008-04:00

Here are some potential alternate titles for Green Lantern: Emerald Knights, the latest in the series of DC DTV films:

“Green Lantern: Gee, Ain’t the Corps Great?”
“Green Lantern: Where Token Violence and Cursing Counts as Mature Storytelling”
“Green Lantern: Speeches! Glorious, Glorious Speeches!”

And so on, and so forth.

Yes, I have watched Green Lantern: Emerald Knights, and once again, I find myself playing the bad guy to the DC DTV films, a role I do no cherish, and one that I am frankly getting sick and tired of playing. At this point, I think it is a perquisite that all viewers of these films go in with incredibly low expectations, because that is about the only way to get through the mediocrity that has been primarily produced thus far.

Like the earlier Batman: Gotham Knight, Green Lantern: Emerald Knights is an anthology film consisting of five tales, told by Hal Jordan (Nathan Fillion) to new recruit Arisia (Elisabeth Moss) in a wrap around story that involves the Green Lantern Corps facing a catastrophic threat, etc, etc. The stories include the tale of the first ever Green Lantern, one involving drill instructor Kilowog’s (Henry Rollins) own boot camp experience, Laira’s (Kelly Hu) first, and most personal, mission, the classic story of why Mogo does not socialize, and a tale about Hal Jordan’s predecessor, Abin Sur (Arnold Vosloo). Along the way, Arisia learns what it means to be a Green Lantern, hints about how to defeat the “catastrophic” threat to the universe are dropped, and numerous nods to comic lore are are made.

To be honest, this review is coming across as much angrier than the film really deserves, seeing as how it is not a terrible film. Green Lantern: Emerald Knights is a competent piece of filmmaking, well animated, directed, and acted, with a typically bland score that has come to mark these DTV efforts nearly every time out. But being a competent piece of work does not make the film any less mediocre, or make the viewing experience any less dull. At least if the film were terrible, it might have been memorable, which is more than can be said of the end result here.

As you might have guessed from my mock alternate titles, the film suffers from several major problems. First, the film is little more than characters standing around telling tales about how awesome the organization they are part of is, while didactically shoving down the audiences’ collective throat what it "means" to be a Green Lantern. And I do mean shoved, because the filmmakers, worried that you might have missed the moral/point of the story, make sure that somebody at some point gets to make a speech that will make everything all clear. Missed that willpower is the key to being a Green Lantern? Do not worry, Hal’s there to spell it out for you. Confused as to the reason Kilowog and his instructor Deegan are both hard asses? Deegan will make is all crystal clear, using his dying breath, no less. As someone who firmly believes in trusting the audience to piece things together for themselves, this storytelling tactic drives me up the wall, and is rather insulting given how simple these stories are.

In fact, the simplicity of the stories and the writing once again brings into question just who the hell these films are made for. Given the nature of the tales presented, it would appear that Green Lantern: Emerald Knights is aimed at a younger set of viewers, which would be fine. However, as I have noted time and again, the DC DTV films were sold on being aimed at an older fan base, featuring stories that were more mature than what could be done within the restrictions of films ostensibly aimed at a youth audience. Unfortunately, “mature” has proven time and again to be little more than a code word for gratuitous violence and cursing in the films, rather than in reference to mature storytelling, and this problem once again appears in Green Lantern: Emerald Knights, most notably with the inclusion of a rather grisly opening death scene.

While these problems plague the film overall, the two stories that have the most potential to be interesting suffer from additional problems. First, there is the adaptation of the Alan Moore penned story “Mogo Doesn’t Socialize,” a brilliant tale from the comics that is butchered in the translation to animation, thanks to a few, but key, creative choices. (MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD) The original story is set up like a joke, involving a rather dim alien warrior in search of a fight with the famed Green Lantern Mogo. Landing on an alien world, the warrior spends years searching the seemingly empty world for sign of the Lantern, only to start mapping out the planet in hopes of finding some sort of clue he has missed. Once he completes his maps however, he discovers that the clearings of the planet form the Green Lantern crest, a discovery which makes him realize that Mogo is a living planet, one which he promptly flees.

While the structure of the story remains the same in the film, the filmmakers let the audience in way to early on the joke, spoiling the entire gag. Worse, in an attempt to liven the story up and make it a little more “cinematic” with grandiose explosions and visuals, the filmmakers take away from the story, whose joys were based on its simplicity and willingness to embrace the potential absurdity of just how varied the Corps membership can be. It is as if the filmmakers were afraid that the viewers would turn the film off if one of the stories happened to be a quieter piece of work, and it is a shame, as it ruins the entire mood of the original comic. (END SPOILERS).

On the plus side, at least “Mogo Doesn’t Socialize” is an actual story, which is more than can be said for the final segment focusing on Abin Sur, which is little more than a cliché discussion on the topic of prophecy and fate that ultimately goes nowhere and contributes nothing to the final film. The whole piece rests on the viewers knowing just who Abin Sur and Sinestro are, rather than actually establishing what their relationship is, and as such, it holds no dramatic weight at all. This is all the more frustrating as the segment flirts with story ideas featured in another Alan Moore story, “Tygers” a bleak, nihilistic, and full-bodied tale about fear that, had it been adapted, would have made for a segment that actually embraces the supposed “mission statement” of the DC DTV films discussed earlier.

“Tygers,” (along with “Mogo Doesn’t Socialize”) are republished in Green Lantern: In Brightest Day, a trade paperback collecting Green Lantern stories from over four decades, and I highly recommend the book, particularly over a purchase or rental of Green Lantern: Emerald Knights. While hardly the worst of the DC DTV films, it is easily the most bland, which in a series of films that also includes Justice League: Crisis on Two Earths, is saying something. With any luck, Green Lantern fans will get a much more satisfying film this Friday with the release of Martin Campbell’s live action film. Or maybe that film will be a spectacular failure.

Either way, it is bound to be more interesting than Green Lantern: Emerald Knights.

GREEN WITH ENVY Trailer

2011-05-24T14:54:00.003-04:00

This just became one of my most anticipated films of the year:

Moonraker (Gilbert 1979)

2011-05-17T15:59:00.009-04:00

It is safe to say that the Broccoli family, co-owners and powers in charge of the James Bond franchise, have made some rather major missteps with their main cash cow over the years. These mistakes tend to involve the Bond films getting away from their roots as spy thrillers/action films, usually to the point where course corrective films that strip down the spectacle, villainous plots, and humour to reasonable levels are required. It is no mistake that the 2006 re-launch of the series, Casino Royale, followed the over-the-top insanity of Die Another Day (2002), or that the brilliant On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969) followed the fun-but-goofy You Only Live Twice (1967). A camp, larger than life fantasy Bond is simply not sustainable.

However, no film in the series illustrates just how wrong a Bond film can go more than Moonraker (Gilbert 1979), a film that blatantly tried to cash in on the surprise success of the 1977 film Star Wars (Lucas). The film follows Bond (Roger Moore in his four outing) as he attempts to stop madman Drax (Michael Lonsdale) from destroying all life on Earth. Drax’s goal is to eventually repopulate the planet with select human specimens, who are being safely kept in a hidden space station. Thus, after globe trotting around the world as usual for two thirds of the film, Bond heads into space, along with American CIA agent Holly Goodhead (Lois Chiles) to stop Drax and his mad plan.

If the idea of Bond in space sounds like a bad idea, it is. While Ian Fleming’s famous creation has always been a fantasy, it is a fantasy set within a heightened reality, a sexed-up world of international espionage and assassination. A Bond film that responded to mankind’s move into the stars during or immediately after the initial space race could have been made into a workable film, as long as the filmmakers understood that it was the geopolitical ramifications of going into space that would drive the story. Unfortunately, the new frontier of outer space in Moonraker serves as little more than a back drop for spectacle: American soldiers are shown battling Drax’s men with lasers in outer space itself, while Bond and Goodhead's journey to Drax's space station is reminiscent of the notoriously overlong reintroduction of the U.S.S. Enterprise in Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979).

The irony, however, is that in terms of visual spectacle and inventiveness, the space material is the best in the film. Director Lewis Gilbert, the special effects crew, and director of photography Jean Tournier clearly went the extra mile to make sure that these sequences were magnificent, and they are more than a match for the visuals featured in George Lucas’ space opera. The space based shoot out between Drax’s men and the US astronauts/military is simply spectacular, while the model work on both the space station and space ships is top of the line. However, as great as this material is, its inclusion in a Bond film is jarring, undercutting the impact that the spectacle would otherwise have. It would have simply been better had producer Albert Broccoli created his own space set film to capture the audience's desire for space adventures, rather than turn the Bond franchise into something it is not.

The side effect of all the effort seemingly being spent on the space material in the film is that the more typically Bond-ian elements are rather bland and uninspired. Everything leading up to the third act is pretty much by the book, with little in the way of inventive variation. The scenery looks beautiful, and the stunt work is professional, but none of it has any of the punch that it should have. The only sequence which stands out is one set during Carnival in Rio de Janeiro, but its presence only serves to highlight how pedestrian the rest of the film is before it goes off the rails as an electric light show.

None of this is helped by star Moore, who by this point simply does not look like he gives a damn. More than any other of his Bond films, Moore seems to be playing the role for laughs, undermining even the minimal tension generated in the film. Worse, unlike Sean Connery, Timothy Dalton, or Pierce Brosnan, Moore has simply aged poorly, making it hard to continue buying him as a believable as 007. Depressingly, Moore carried on playing Bond in a further three films.

There are one or two saving graces in the film, thankfully. While Lois Chiles is saddled with the worst name for a Bond girl prior to Denise Richards' Christmas Jones in The World is Not Enough (1999), she manages to bring a level of class missing from most of the rest of the film in her role as Holly Goodhead. Desmond Llewelyn and Bernard Lee are as reliable as ever as Q and M respectively, while Lonsdale does make for a rather creepy villain. The same cannot be said of Richard Kiel's Jaws, who shows up to drag the threat level of the villains down a few levels, just as he did in the immediate predecessor to Moonraker, The Spy Who Loved Me (1977).

The real saving grace of the film is the music of composer John Barry, who in Moonraker provides one of his best scores of the entire series. Entire scenes are carried by Barry's music alone, and once Bond and Goodhead launch into space, the score has a haunting beauty that is reminiscent to Barry's work in The Black Hole, also released in 1979.

Thankfully, Barry's score is available on disc apart from the film itself, allowing viewers to skip Moonraker all together. Hard core Bond fans will no doubt already have seen the film, or if not, will subject themselves to it regardless of any negative reaction to the film, including this review. For casual fans, pick up the score on itunes, crank it up, sit back, and read Fleming's original novel upon which Moonraker is barely based. It is a better use of your time, and will be a far more enjoyable experience.

Arthur 2: On the Rocks (Yorkin 1988)

2011-04-27T16:21:00.004-04:00

Time for another confession: I watched Arthur 2: On the Rocks (Yorkin 1988) years before I saw the original Arthur (Gordon 1981).

Of course, there is a good reason for that: Arthur 2 On the Rocks used to play fairly frequently as the afternoon film on weekends, along with I Come in Peace, aka Dark Angel (Baxley 1990) and the Nightmare On Elm Street sequels for reason. Thus, used to I watch it when there was nothing else on when I was a teenager. The film had a few laughs, but it was nothing great, and I certainly was not motivated to see the original film based on the sequel. More importantly, I did not hate it as so many other people did.

Watching the film now in light of my love for the original Arthur however, as well after years of maturing as a film fan, and the level of hatred directed towards Arthur 2: On the Rocks is now understandable to me. The film is a mess of bad ideas, shoddy screenwriting, and sheer desperation on the part of star and producer Dudley Moore, who clearly was trying recapture his past success after the critical and financial failures of the films he did immediately preceding Arthur 2: On the Rocks.

The film is, however, fascinatingly bad. It is the product of a rather talented group of filmmakers, with Bud Yorkin, the filmmaker behind the criminally underrated Start the Revolution Without Me (1970), directing and Andy Breckman, creator of the television series Monk on writing duties. Most of the original cast is back, including John Gielgud, whose character Hobson (SPOILER) died in the original film (More on that later). Over their respective careers, these two have produced or worked on a number of screen gems, but with Arthur 2: On the Rocks, the best that they can do is produce a few chuckles and insult the intelligence of the audience.

Set seven years after the events original film, Arthur 2: On the Rocks finds Arthur (Moore) and Linda (Liza Minnelli) happily married, with Arthur still drinking and doing nothing with his life. Linda wants to have a child, but when she discovers that she cannot biologically have one, she convinces Arthur to go along with adopting a baby. However, just as the pair are getting ready to adopt, the Bach family business merges with the empire of Burt Johnson (Stephen Elliot), whose daughter Arthur left at the alter at the end of the previous film. Still angry at Arthur, Johnson forces Arthur’s family to cut him off from the fortune until he agrees to divorce Linda and marry his daughter Susan (Cynthia Sykes), who still desperately wants Arthur. Refusing, Arthur and Linda are forced into a working class existence, which Arthur struggles to cope with as he finds himself trying to take responsibility for once in his life.

While any sequel to Arthur would have been unnecessary, the idea of Arthur giving up the booze to try and be a responsible father actually could have made for a half decent film, giving Arthur a real reason to confront the reality of his life, if we had no choice but to see him try and overcome his alcoholism. A less interesting, but still a reasonable basis for a sequel would have been to watch Arthur straighten his life out and become a functioning member of the working class after the loss of his fortune. Together, these ideas might have even complimented each other. So the question simply is this: why do none of these ideas work in the finished film?

The answer lays with the idiotic and highly artificial Johnson revenge storyline that dominates the film. The original Arthur was a villain-less piece, with Arthur caught in a tough situation that forces him to make one simple choice in his life. By contrast, this sequel gives Arthur a threat he must overcome, and in the process it undermines the fact that the real problem facing Arthur is how he chooses to live his life. When Arthur gets a job, and then is promptly fired, it is not because his drinking makes him incapable of holding a job, but because Burt Johnson buys the store and demands Arthur be fired. When Arthur and Linda cannot stay at her father’s place, it is because the "new owner" wants them out of the apartment. This transformation of the Johnsons into outright villains does a disservice to the character of Arthur by giving him an easy scapegoat for his problems. Moreover, it reduces the Johnsons to cartoons instead of real human beings in a real world.

Not that anything outside the Johnson plotline closely resembles the real either. While the adoption storyline has potential, the adoption process as presented in the film bares no resemblance to how adoptions actually work, with Kathy Bates adoption agency representative acting as an oblivious fairy godmother figure to Arthur and Linda. Bate's character ignores several problems she discovers over the course of the film relating to Arthur and Linda, problems that would make most adoption agencies take a good hard look at these pontential parents. These problems include, but are not limited to: Arthur’s alcoholism (she merely takes him at his word that he is trying to improve); the fact that Arthur and Linda have lost everything; and that the apartment Arthur and Linda have moved into is a microscopic dump (which, by the way, Bate's character shows up at mere MINUTES after Arthur and Linda agree to rent it). Even more baffling is that the adoption agent endless claims that love is one all one really seems to need to raise a child, which, as any reasonable parent will note, is a statement completely ignorant of reality. The whole subplot comes across as an underdeveloped idea, and should have been exercised from the script entirely, or made the center piece of the film.

The biggest misstep with the film however is the manner in which Arthur’s drinking problem is finally addressed. (MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD). In the final third of the film, Arthur is actually visited by the ghost of Hobson (Gielgud), I kid you not, who acts as a Clarence-like figure to Arthur’s George Bailey, without the whole alternate timeline shtick. Here, Hobson tells Arthur he finally needs to get his act together and give up drinking, and Arthur does. Right there. No questions asked.

Just like that.

The many problems with the film I have already mentioned could be overlooked, but this no effort approach for addressing Arthur’s alcoholism, one of the key defining traits of the character, is not one of them. While having Arthur give up the bottle was a mistake in the 2011 remake of Arthur, that film at least made some attempt to show that Arthur giving up alcohol was not an easy task. Not much of an attempt mind you, but more of an attempt that “ghost tells Arthur to stop drinking, and he does.” Arthur’s battle with the bottle, while still not a good idea, at least would have provided a solid comedic and dramatic backbone for the film, and too see it tossed away frivolously here illustrates just how ill-conceived this whole venture is.

The shame of it all is that there are elements of the film I genuinely enjoy. While the film was clearly born out of Moore's need for a box office hit, he and Liza Minnelli are charming in the film, rising above the material they are working with. At points, the film does manage to get a few laughs, including a priceless scene in which Arthur is told to “just marry the bitch.” And during the all too brief time spent on Arthur looking for a job, the film manages to find a pulse that the rest of the film lacks. Fortunately or unfortunately, the filmmakers manage to sully even these good moments with an ending so schmaltzy that it makes the works of Frank Capra seem downright cynical.

Perhaps the final, lasting achievement of Arthur 2: On the Rocks is that it set the bar so low, there was nowhere for the 2011 remake to go but up. Sadly, for fans of the original film, this is likely not much of a consolation. Arthur 2: On the Rocks is now available on Blu-Ray in a double feature set with the original film, which means if you want the original Arthur, you are stuck with this sequel as well. It is best to think of Arthur 2: On the Rocks as an unwanted special feature, but if you are a die hard fan, chances are you will check it out anyway. For everyone else, stay away.

Calling Dr. Death (LeBorg 1943)

2011-04-20T13:43:00.005-04:00

For the record, I never had any intention of turning reviews of Lon Chaney Jr./Universal Studio films into an ongoing series, much like I have never really had any specific plans for this site overall. But here I am again, this time looking at the film Calling Dr. Death (LeBorg 1943), and much like Man Made Monster (1941), Calling Dr. Death is not a particularly great film.

That said, the film is a significant departure from the Chaney Jr./Universal films previously reviewed on the site, with Calling Dr. Death being a mystery rather than a horror film. The film is based on the radio series Inner Sanctum Mysteries which ran from 1941-1952, featuring stories of murder, horror and suspense. Coincidentally enough, I listened to an episode of the series a month or two ago, and the program certainly has its charms, with a spooky-but-campy atmosphere, and some fun host banter to bookend the episode. Unfortunately, none of those charms are on display in Calling Dr. Death. The film is a straightforward mystery, directed by Reginald LeBorg in a perfunctory manner from a screenplay by Edward Dein.

The film concerns psychologist Dr. Mark Steel (Chaney Jr.), a man trapped in a loveless marriage to a woman who is openly having affairs with other men while refusing Steel a divorce. Steel’s frustrations are only exacerbated by the romantic feelings shared between him and his nurse Stella (Patricia Morison), who is seemingly his only confidant. One weekend, Mark discovers his wife has taken off, and he heads out to find her. When he wakes up in his office Monday morning, he discovers that he has no memory of the weekend, and that his wife has been brutally murdered. While his wife’s lover is the prime suspect, Mark is convinced of the man’s innocence, because Steel is convinced that he himself is the murderer. With no evidence however, Steel sets about trying to solve the crime and save the man, even if it means revealing himself as the killer in the process.

There is nothing about Calling Dr. Death that is particularly interesting, including its failings, which are little more than the typical problems with most murder mysteries, from an easily deduced killer, to giant plot holes and lapses in logic. If the film has a problem that is particular to itself, it is the use of voice over to convey the “voices” in Mark’s head. Along with being overused, the voice over never successfully conveys the idea that Mark is suffering from any form of psychosis, as the bulk of it is little more than Mark moaning on about how pathetic he is. He may be slightly depressed, but there is never any indication from the voice over that Mark is truly suffering from any serious mental issues.

If there is anything fascinating in the film at all, it is mainly the work of star Lon Chaney Jr., who continues to astound me as I work my way through his films for having a star image that is completely defined by weakness. In every film I have watched Chaney Jr. in thus far, the characters he has played have been essentially powerless men, unable to take action and constantly at the mercy of others. As Mark Steel, we see Chaney Jr. playing the weakest character I have seen him take on yet, accomplishing little and being attacked from all sides. Unfortunately, this does not make for a particularly fascinating character, and since there is no doubt from the beginning as to whether or not Mark is or is not guilty, it is impossible to care about anything that happens over the course of the film.

Calling Dr. Death is only available as part of the “Inner Sanctum Mysteries” DVD collection from Universal, the remaining films of which I have yet to review. On its own, I cannot recommend the film as a worthwhile dip into the Universal catalogue, and as a start to the series, Calling Dr. Death does not hold out much promise for the rest of the films to come. Still, with five more films to go, we shall see if the “Inner Sanctum Mysteries” film series improves, and has any cinematic value as a whole.

Arthur (Winer 2011)

2011-04-14T14:00:00.002-04:00

Coming away from the 2011 remake of the 1981 comedy classic Arthur, it has become clear to me that in Russell Brand, the filmmakers had the right star in which to accomplish this remake. The problem is that Arthur 2011 has been made at absolutely the wrong cultural moment.

The original Arthur from Steve Gordon is the story of wealthy drunk Arthur Bach who has to make a choice between maintaining his wealth by marrying a woman he does not love, or ending up in poverty by being with the woman he does love. While the overall narrative draws upon the long tradition of romantic fantasy, the strength of the film is the way in which the romantic desires of the characters are pitted against the harsh realities of their situations: Arthur (Dudley Moore) is an alcoholic pretty much lacking anything in the way of agency in his life; Linda (Liza Minnelli) is sweet and loving, but also rather naïve; Hobson (John Gielgud) is a man capable of love but also is far too entrenched in a sense of how class relations are supposed to work. The comedy, romance and drama all stem from the tension between the reality of the characters and the fantasy they desire. In turn, the audience is caught up in their own awareness of the reality of the situation and their own desire to see a fantasy play out.

In 2011 however, at least within the pandering Hollywood system, allowing the audience to merely observe the given characters of a film and make up their own mind about them is a rarity, particularly in a culture where parent groups want every film that features a cigarette to get an R rating, and every drunk be a villain. All characters must be clearly defined and morally judged, and the only way an alcoholic is allowed to be likeable is if he is gives up the bottle by the end of the film. As such, the only way Arthur (Winer 2011) is allowed to have its title character be an alcoholic for the bulk of the film is by fully embracing fantasy and do away with any sense of reality, thus safely marking a likable alcoholic as being as much a fantasy as the rest of the film.

The film boldly announces its complete shift away from reality in its opening scenes, as we witness Arthur (Russell Brand) getting decked out in a real Batman costume from 1995’s Batman Forever, loading the utility belt up with alcohol, and ending up in a police chase involving a fully functioning Batmobile. It is a fairly funny sequence, one of many in fact, but it only goes to show how much the filmmakers missed the point of the original film, or more likely how much fear over offending the potential audience guided the filmmaking process.

The flaws of the characters that were so central to the original have been greatly toned down or removed in this version of the story: Naomi (Greta Gerwig in the role equivalent to that of Linda in the original), is an idealized woman and overt role model; Hobson, played by Helen Mirren here, is less of a class snob and takes a more active role in defending Arthur as his fairy godmother with attitude; Susan, the sweet. Innocent, and minor character who just so happens to be the woman Arthur is being forced to marry in the original has been transformed into a vicious villainess played by Jennifer Garner. None of the performances given by the actors here are bad, and Helen Mirren manages to get some of the best laughs in the film with her take on Hobson. The problem is that rather than being given fully fleshed out characters, they have been given simplistic roles in a standard narrative.

The one actor to get something to play with real substance is Brand in the title role, and while the character arc Arthur undergoes is flawed, Brand’s actual performance does Dudley Moore justice while not being an imitation of Moore’s work. Brand manages to project the same level of sweet innocence that Moore did, but brings a higher level of confidence to the character that would have been out of place with Moore’s portrayal. Again, the writing never really gives Brand’s Arthur a moment to really risk alienating the audience quite Moore’s version, such as the infamous reaction to the tragic history of the prostitute he picks up at the start of the film, but there is no real reason to doubt that Brand could have pulled it off.

Of course, the lack of such a moment pretty much sums up the problems with this Arthur: it completely avoids taking risks like the original did, and that is a terrible shame. Brand is the right actor to take on this role, and he has everything it takes to be a leading man in a comedy, and potentially even drama. However, he needs the right material and direction to be able to really make that leap, and he is given neither in Arthur, unlike Dudley Moore who was at a similar turning point in his career when he stared in the original film. With any luck, Brand will not have to wait too long for that film to come.

On the plus side, Brand can at least rest well in the knowledge that his Arthur is a film better than Arthur 2: On the Rocks! (Yorkin 1988). As for the you the reader, make of that what you will.

OK: Where Have I Been? And What Is Coming Up?

2011-04-06T14:31:00.003-04:00

Ok, for the past little while, I have had multiple projects on my plate, and FINALLY after this upcoming weekend I will be able to spend time working on reviews for the site again! So starting next week, start expecting regular updates again.

RIP Michael Gough (1917-2011)

2011-03-17T11:28:00.006-04:00

Well, this is another tough one: Michael Gough has passed away at the age of 94.

While Gough had a long, long career, for the generation I was a part of, the man will always be known as the definitive Alfred Pennyworth from the Tim Burton and Joel Schumacher's series of Batman film. While the latter two films in the series were far from stellar, Gough was always the highlight in the films, bringing a sense of class and respect that they did not always deserve. Gough also reprised the role in a 1989 BBC radio play, and a radio adaptation of the famed Knightfall storyline as well.

As I said though, Gough had a long and amazing career, ranging from Hammer's The Horror of Dracula, to appearances on the original series of Doctor Who in two separate roles. Notable highlights include the Julius Ceaser (1970), Dr. Terror's House of Horrors, The Phantom of the Opera (1962), and The Age of Innocence (1990).

God be with his family, and may he rest in peace.

Great Scenes and Sequences in Cinema - Twilight Zone: The Movie (Dante, Landis, Miller, and Spielberg 1983)

2011-03-08T12:21:00.014-05:00

Hello everyone, and welcome to a new segment here at The Experience Cinematic, Great Scenes and Sequences in Cinema. Here, I will take selected scenes from overall films that I find are worthy of discussion and do just that. And to kick things off, the scene being discussed today is the opening of Twilight Zone: The Movie.

When I was a kid, about the age of five, one of the things I tended to do when I couldn’t sleep was to get up and try and convince my parents to let me watch what they were watching. Usually, I failed. However, one Saturday (I think it was a Saturday), I pushed my luck and won; I was going to be allowed to stay up and watch what my parents were going to watch. In this case, it was to be a late night airing of a film, one which was preceded by an interesting, if slightly creepy, advertisement. I wasn’t going to leave though, as I was curled up beside my mother and ready for anything this film called Twilight Zone: The Movie (1983) could toss at me.

Four minutes later Dan Aykroyd turned into a monster, killed Albert Brooks, and I tore down the hallway to my bed as fast as possible. If it needs to be said, I didn’t sleep well that night.

However, that opening scene always stuck with me, and when the opportunity to tape the film off of “Space: The Imagination Station” came in the late 1990s, I took it and watched the film with glee several times. The film was one I eagerly anticipated on disc, and when it finally hit DVD, it was a day of release purchase, no questions asked. Sure, the film is flawed, and the production of the film is one of the most notorious in cinema history due to the horrific deaths of Vic Morrow and two children in a helicopter stunt gone wrong, but I love the film just the same.

The best element of the film though is that opening scene with Aykroyd and Brooks, a scene so strong that it almost sabotages the rest of the film. The scene is a perfectly executed jump scare, one of best ever put to film, but the scene has a much greater function than merely scaring the hell out of the audience. While Twilight Zone: The Movie is update or remake of the original show, the film is also a love letter to what Rod Serling created, examining the show’s place in American popular culture. It is a reminder about how the series examined the society it was part of, highlighting said society’s best and most negative attributes through Serling and crew’s imaginations. The opening scene of the film is a tightly constructed piece of meta fiction that directly comments on the series intent and power, while acting out itself a moral/political drama that would not have been out of place in the original series.

The scene (and the film overall) begins with the folk song “Midnight Special” performed here by Creedence Clearwater Revival, playing over shots of a highway at night in the middle of nowhere. Already the themes of the film are being set, with the song recalling America’s cultural past while the images remind us of the increasingly interconnected nature of America in the late 1970s/1980s. Said images finally give way to the image of a car wheel barrelling down the road to…somewhere, and finally to the two nameless occupants, singing along to CCR, engaged in their culture. Presumably, from the images we see, these two are friends. After all, why else would two men be driving in the middle of nowhere together, just singing along?

Soon, an all too familiar event for those who had cassette players happens: the tape is eaten, and the duo are left to talk to one another. Or not, as the case turns out to be, as the driver (Brooks) states that they already have talked to one another. The writing at this point is clever and subtle, as the nature of the relationship of the two is complicated when the passenger (Aykroyd) notes that he knows where the driver is from, but not the other way around, a point ignored by the driver. The driver instead begins to joke about by turning the lights on his vehicle off as he races down the road, much to the discomfort of the passenger who calls the practice unsafe, another point ignored by the driver as he kids about running over pedestrians.

As simple as the scene thus far is, some rather complex material is happening just below the surface. What we have is a tale of two men of seemingly similar backgrounds (a point only to be enhanced in the events to follow) but with two vastly different world views. The nameless driver is seemingly empowered in all ways - it is his car, he is driving, he decides how the conversation is going to go - and he treats this power as a joke. He could very well kill someone, but his self confidence is unshakeable as he heads into the darkness without direction. The passenger, quite possibly a hitchhiker, lives up to his position as being passive, out of control of what is going on. He is also more thoughtful and concerned about the driver’s behaviour.

The moment of dangerous driving gives way to the pair bantering back and forth about TV theme music, a topic suggested by the driver, until the conversation reaches its ultimate point, The Twilight Zone. The conversation from this point on turns into a complete geek fest, with the driver mixing up a Zone episode for an Outer Limits episode and claiming that he bought an additional pair of glasses after viewing the classic episode “Time Enough at Last.” While a seemingly innocent conversation, the driver’s unfounded conviction about which series a specific episode belongs to and the misunderstanding of “Time Enough At Last” points to a superficiality of the character, his own self-absorption. He “knows” the culture, but he does not understand it beyond how it may or may not apply directly to him. Just as his driving is solely for his own benefit. Just as he controls the conversation and games to his own benefit, not caring about the man in the seat beside him.

At this point, the passenger asks the same question of the driver that the driver asked him earlier: do you want to see something scary? The driver does, and the passenger illustrates the difference between himself and the driver by asking him to pull over before he will show him, an act of social responsibility and awareness. Once the car has stopped, the passenger indeed show the driver, and the audience, something scary, as he punishes the driver for his self absorption and lack of social consciousness, out in the middle of America.

Cue the iconic music; kick in Burgess Meredith’s narration.

As noted earlier, the scene serves a dual function. First, it is a reminder and commentary about the intent and importance of the original Twilight Zone series, with regards to its political, cultural and moral concerns, as brought to the show by creator Rod Serling. Second, while explicitly explaining the series, the scene itself plays out a type of morality play that would not have been out of place in the original series, were it to be expanded to fill a proper television spot. It is a complex scene, written and directed by John Landis, a scene which makes one wish that Landis had managed to come up with something half as clever in his full segment, which becomes lost in its grandiose attempts at political relevance.

The casting is also a vital reason that the scene works as well as it does. It is not merely that the casting of two stars primarily known at the time as comedians that adds to the creepy and unsettling tone of the scene, but just how average the pair are. Aykroyd and Brooks may have been major stars at the time, but at no point do they come across as such: they are just a couple of geeks cruising about and having the same nerdy conversations as anyone else. It is a tough quality to find in modern cinema, and one that makes me miss the style of American studio cinema of the 1980s all the more.

To be perfectly honest, I am willing to admit a nostalgic bias when it comes to Twilight Zone: The Movie, but that doesn’t change the brilliance of the film’s opening. If nothing else, I highly recommend the film for that sequence alone. And who knows? Maybe you’ll stick around for the return trip into the Twilight Zone…

All Star Superman (Liu 2011)

2011-02-23T16:59:00.013-05:00

Given the tragic death of All Star Superman (Liu 2011) screenwriter Dwayne McDuffie on Tuesday, February 22 2011, the same day that All Star Superman was released, I considered not reviewing the film like I have the other DC Animated films. In circumstances such as death, the criticism of a person’s work, either positive or negative, can take on a different tone and be misconstrued. Out of respect for Mr. McDuffie, I figured it would be best to avoid such problems.

However, while watching the film last night, a story about facing life and death with strength and dignity, I changed my mind. While flawed, All Star Superman is the final work from the acclaimed writer of comics and animation, and as such deserves to be seen and discussed as much as his other work, not ignored out of a misplaced attempt of respect.

All Star Superman is based on a twelve issue comic series of the same name by writer Grant Morrison and artist Frank Quitely, which focuses upon the final days of Superman (James Denton) as he discovers he is dying from solar poisoning, resulting from a rescue mission near the sun caused by Lex Luthor (Anthony LaPaglia). With his time running out, Superman sets about getting his affairs in order, from finally addressing his relationship with Lois Lane (Christina Hendricks), making sure the world is protected one final time, and trying to save the soul of Lex Luthor.

While many people have referred to the original comic version of the story as a deconstruction of Superman and his mythos, such a description is not fitting. Morrison and Quitely’s comic tale is not interested in breaking down the Man of Steel and exploring the contradictions and instable meanings of the character. Rather, the comic was a love letter to Superman, a tale that explores why Superman endures and is as relevant as ever in popular culture, even when it seems like his time is done. The story takes everything about Superman, from the iconic to the downright goofy, and gives it a sense of power and weight that most comic creators could only ever dream of achieving. Most important however is how Morrison and Quitley bring out of the complexities of the character by embracing his deceptive simplicity and seemingly all powerful nature, rather than trying to mitigate it as many writers since John Byrne have done to varying degrees of success. At times, Morrison’s messianic take on Kal-El is a bit much, but that is about the only criticism that can be held against the comic.

The challenge in adapting the comic into a film is that the source material is epic in scope, episodic in structure, and dense in detail and ideas, carrying the reader from moments of sheer awe, such as the opening rescue of a ship flying into the sun, to touchingly human moments, such as Superman’s visit to Smallville. To do it justice in a single film is likely impossible, or at the very least would require the running length of one of the Lord of the Rings extended cuts. As such, adapting the material into a 76 minute long direct to video film did not inspire much confidence, even with Bruce Timm and Dwayne McDuffie in charge. While their respective work on the acclaimed Batman: The Animated Series, Superman, the Animated Series Batman Beyond, Static Shock and Justice League television series have defined what the DC Universe is for me, the direct to video films have been a flawed bunch at best. While Batman: Under the Red Hood was fantastic, Superman/Batman: Public Enemies and Superman/Batman: Apocalypse were simple dreadful.

Given this, you can imagine my surprise at how well All Star Superman works in the format. Now, the finished film is far from what an adaptation of the source material could be, given the proper running time and budget, and part of me wishes that Zack Snyder would make the shock announcement that his up coming Superman film is an adaptation of this material. Still, All Star Superman is better than the film has any right to be given the limitations the filmmakers faced, as it keeps the heart of the story and Quitley’s gorgeous artwork mostly intact.

The approach taken to adapting the material though is one which I have frequently noted as being one of my least favourite, the cut and past abridged tactic where key scenes and ideas are directly lifted in order to “maintain” as much of the story as possible, while much of the connecting material is dropped. The end result of such adaptations more often than not is a finished film which feels like it is missing huge chunks of story, while never allowing the material that remains to breath. This is certainly the case in All Star Superman, best illustrated in an inappropriately comic moment at the grave site of Jonathan Kent, where Martha Kent kneels down for what appears to be a respectful prayer, only to get right back up and carry on a conversation without missing a beat less than a second later. That said, the strength of McDuffie’s script is that it does manage to identify and keep the most important material from the comics in the film, never losing sight of what the story is about. Only once does the film seem to stray off course by keeping the “paranoid Lois” chapter, a story that worked wonderfully in the comic but seems out of place in this condensed version of the narrative. Simply skipping ahead to Superman giving Lois her birthday gift would have allowed the film to flesh out one or two other scenes to the film’s benefit.

The flaws in the film however are partly smoothed over by the excellent casting in the film, starting with James Denton’s Superman. While I have heard criticism of Denton’s work as being too calm and saintly, I believe that for this interpretation of the character it is entirely fitting. This is a story in which we see Superman at his best and most noble, and Denton manages to project this through his work. Hendricks’ Lois is easily the best animated Lois Lane since Dana Delany, bringing a greater sense of warmth to the character than is usually seen in other interpretations.

The scene stealer however is Anthony LaPaglia as Luthor. Morrison boiled Luthor down to his essence in this story, a man driven by his own ego and an inferiority complex that he tries to deny. LaPaglia captures the nature of the character perfectly, particularly towards the end of the film when he is required to deliver an emotion laden speech built entirely out of complex science terminology. With any luck, if Luthor appears in future DC animated films, LaPaglia will be allowed to reprise the role.

(One thing to do while watching: listen carefully for a surprise appearance by Michael Gough in a rather small and peculiar part.)

On the animation front, the work here is stellar as usual from this crew. Quitely’s artwork has been simplified down in order to better translate to animation, but little the awe and emotion captured in his work has been lost. Indeed, the animation crew seems to have gone above and beyond their usual efforts with this film, and while it never quite hits the level of a theatrical feature film, it comes close.

Unfortunately, for all of these positive points about the film, I think the word “close” is the defining term for the finished film. All Star Superman is a film always on the verge of hitting its true greatness, but never quite makes it all the way. It is a film which perfectly illustrates the constraints in which these films are produced, the constraints which hold back these filmmakers from making films that fully achieve their ambitions. Warner Brothers needs to give these people the resources they need to make a truely epic piece of superhero animation, because what they have here in All Star Superman is a good film, when it could have been great.

Still, if the DC Animated films are to continue as a series of DTV releases, perhaps it is time to find a Superman story that is brilliant, but manageable in the format of 76 minutes. A story that many fans would love to see.

A story like "Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?"…

So...Where have I been?

2011-02-20T23:39:00.003-05:00

Short answer: two jobs, one online course, and a short trip out of town. So, my plannned reviews for the month went to hell in a hand basket.

On the plus side, it looks like things are clearing up, so my goal is two have two reviews up this week covering three films, all of which are direct to video.

Steel (Johnson 1997)

2011-02-02T16:23:00.016-05:00

I did not plan this. I really did not. After reviewing the 1997 comic book failure Spawn (ok, after using the film as an excuse to talk about Roger Ebert and his critical practice), I had not planned to review another of the three bad comic book film from the same year.

Yet, here I am reviewing Steel (Johnson 1997), perhaps the most forgotten about film ever based on a superhero comic. Based on the DC comic book character created by Louise Simonson and Jon Bogdanove in the aftermath of Superman’s “death” in the early 1990s, Steel was a last ditch attempt to try and launch basketball superstar Shaquille O’Neal’s acting “career.” The end result was dumped into theatres in August of 1997, and I was one of the few people to actually pay to see the film in a theatre (it was a birthday gift to my younger brother who was a fan of the character, before you ask). It was out of theatres about a week later and on video not too long after that, where it was promptly forgotten. Deservedly so.

Except, there is a historical value to Steel, though we need to look back a decade or two previous to the film, and to the medium of television. In the late 1970s and into the 1980s, a surprising number of comic book superheroes made their way onto television either in TV movies or full fledged television series. These programs, however, were often generic action series and/or crime shows that treated the concept of the superhero as little more than gimmick to liven up an otherwise tried format. The villains were common criminals rather than super villains, the actual moments of super heroics were limited in scale, usually being saved for the final act, and, like most American television of the time, the plotting was episodic and repetitive. Most of these attempts were terrible, such as the live action Spider-Man series and the horrendous Captain America TV movie starring Reb Brown. Often, the very best of these shows were not based on actual comics, such as the cheesy-but-charming Greatest American Hero.

The best known and arguably best of these programs was The Incredible Hulk series starring Billy Bixby and Lou Ferrigno. Taking the basic concept of the comic, that of a scientist who in an accident gains the ability to turn into a raging green beast when he becomes angry, the series combined it with the framework of the successful television series The Fugitive, with David Banner (Bixby) on the run, looking for a cure and helping the people he meets along the way, often assisted and/or hindered by his monstrous alter ego (Ferrigno). The series was goofy and formula driven, but Bixby made (and still makes) for a compelling lead, and the core concept was strong enough for the series to be engaging on a weekly basis.

The man behind bringing The Incredible Hulk to television, along with The Bionic Woman, was Kenneth Johnson, who also wrote and directed the original V mini-series in 1983, and directed the 1988 film Short Circuit 2. Johnson is also the writer and director of Steel, and to the production he brings pretty much the exact same approach to the film as he did to The Incredible Hulk. As such, Steel’s creative and financial failings are take on a symbolic dimension, providing late close to an era of comic book superheroes on film and television, an era in which filmmakers actively tried and suppress what superheroes are in an attempt to make them more “palatable” to mainstream audiences.

The story of Steel is that of John Henry Irons (O’Neal), a military weapons designer who resigns after his latest weapon cripples his friend and colleague Susan Sparks (Annabeth Gish, The X-Files) in a demonstration mishandled by weapon co-designer Burke (Judd Nelson, The Breakfast Club). Returning home, Irons is shocked to find his weapons are now in the hands of gang members, thanks to Burke. When the military decides not to intervene, Irons decides to take matters into his own hands. Reuniting with Sparks and teaming with a wise old junkyard owner (Richard Roundtree of Shaft fame), Irons builds himself a suit of armour and takes to the streets as Steel.

From start to finish, Steel is little more than a late 1980s/early 1990s TV movie that somehow found its way into cinemas, written and shot in the most perfunctory manner possible by Johnson. It is a film peopled by caricatures and stereotypes instead of characters, in a tale that is not engaging either emotionally or intellectually. It is a passionless project where almost everyone involved are working only to collect their cheques, and the lack of care shows in every single frame.

Were the film merely bad on that level, it would simply be forgettable. What makes Steel particularly awfully is just how much contempt for the intelligence of the audience is visible on screen, particularly towards its supposed target audience: children. Steel is a “family” film of the worst kind, preaching a clichéd message of believing in ones self and the value of hard work in the most condescending manner possible. Characters frequently stand about and make speeches that spell out the morals of the film, enough so that by the time Roundtree makes a comment at the end of the film about what one can do when they “really put their mind to it,” I was ready to put on Crank 2 in order to see something entirely amoral. Worse, the film frequently draws in the most superficial manner possible on then popular youth culture, just so it can condemn it in an idiotic fashion. For example, Burke’s post military weapons development is financed by a videogame CEO, if you can believe it, while a child character finds himself in danger because he takes what he believes to be a legitimate job at the same company.

(Note to filmmakers who are determined to make message films for children: it is unlikely kids will buy into your message when you are constantly telling them how bad their culture is. Please keep in mind.)

However, as much contempt as the film might have towards its youthful target audience, it is nothing compared to the contempt the film shows towards the superhero genre. While Johnson’s previous effort The Incredible Hulk may not have held much interest in grand scale science fiction and fantasy, it took the concept of the Hulk seriously, never asking the audience to laugh at the premise. As bad as the Spider-Man television series was, even it never actively sought to have the audience laugh at the very idea of Spider-Man. And while The Greatest American Hero might have been a piece of light comedy action television, its humour was born out of a love of superheroes. The series knew superheroes could be ridiculous, but damn it, they were still a ton of fun.

No such love or respect exists in Steel. At the best of times, the film is merely uninterested in the superhero concept, never bothering to make John Henry Irons in his superhero outings impressive or dignified. In fact, Irons spends most of his time being beaten badly or getting by on sheer luck over the course of the film. Even his “support” team proves to be more effective at fighting crime than Irons ever is during the course of the film. The only effort put in to make Irons seem imposing is in the way Johnson and director of photography Mark Irwin try to emphasize how tall their star is.

Which brings us to Shaquille O’Neal. To be fair to O’Neal, he is clearly trying with all his heart to give a good performance, but the man simply is not an actor. Irons is supposedly a great weapons designer, soldier, and a decent man. Of these, O’Neal is only able to pull of the decency of Irons, never managing to project the intelligence or disciplined mind that we could reasonably expect of a solider or someone who is scientifically inclined. Worse, Irons is motivated by an anger at his work being misappropriated, but O’Neal’s attempts at acting angered and outraged are limited to him barely raising his voice.

The unimpressive nature of the title character is highlighted all the more by his equally unimpressive opponent in the form of Judd Nelson’s Burke. A standard issue villain who merely wants power, casting Nelson as Burke is the biggest piece of miscasting in the film, even more so than O’Neal. While Nelson is a solid actor, there is nothing particularly threatening about him, and certainly nothing to indicate a criminal mastermind. His performance turns Burke into little more than a weasel-like midlevel thug, which makes Irons look all the more pathetic when Burke seemingly defeats him at every turn.

Given how poor a hero Irons is thanks to Johnson’s failings, the moments of unfunny humour in the film fail to be gentle ribbings on the character, and function more as an all out assault on the concept of superheroes. Were the film an intelligent deconstruction and/or comedy of superheroes, I might have been willing to go along with this total attack on superhero fiction. Instead, Johnson seems to be trying to shame fans of the genre and laugh at them, repeatedly yelling at them through Steel “Really? This is what you are a fan of?” Johnson only succeeds in revealing his misconceptions and misunderstanding of the genre, as well as its fans.

The thing about this is that in tearing down superheroes and heroics, Johnson is pretty much undermining his own supposed message at the heart of Steel. It is a film ostensibly about what can be done with determination and hard work, but the truth of the matter is that the film is about a man who dreams big and fails, made by a man who dreams small and fails. As such, Steel is an oddly cynical work for a family film, peddling messages that its own filmmaker does not even seem to believe in, in a genre that he admits to not even liking. As bad as Spawn is, it at least seems to be made by people who enjoy working in the genre, and were trying their best to make their film work even as it failed.

Of course, having now established that Steel is worse than Spawn, it would only be logical to see where the third terrible comic book film of 1997 ranks with these two. So come back soon as I tackle the notorious, and perhaps most hated film in all of comic book fandom, Batman and Robin (Schumacher 1997).

Kevin Smith and George Lucas: Bad Decisions and Power in Hollywood

2011-01-24T11:20:00.008-05:00

(Due to the greater extent of the work needed on a real life project this past weekend, review delayed till late this week. Instead, enjoy the following)

Tell me if this sounds familiar: a filmmaker bursts onto the Hollywood scene, and is hailed with accolades, and proceeds to build himself an empire of loyal fans with whom he can rely on to spend money on his products. As time goes by, his actual interest in the making of films seems to wane, and he spends his time on other ventures. During this empire building, he seems to surround himself with an increasing number of yes men who merely reinforce his ideas about how to operate in filmmaking. When he does make a film, and both critics and audiences are critical, he lashes out at them, and knows that his loyal fan base will stick with him. And more than anything else, this filmmaker seems obsessed with filmmaker rights to the point that the audience is almost entirely ignored.

If you think I am describing George Lucas, you would be right. Except these days that narrative applies not just to Lucas, but also to one of his biggest fans: Kevin Smith.

Ok, the two on the surface seem hardly comparable. Lucas created Star Wars, the seemingly billion dollar a year generator for Lucas’ empire, while Smith created the series of Jay and Silent Bob films that play to a much, much smaller crowed. Lucas’ grasp extends to toys, games, films and television, while Smith dominates his little section of the Internet, Q and A sessions, and the occasional book. Yet put aside the scale of their empires (for now, at least), and their paths seem to run fairly parallel to one another.

Consider the past year for Kevin Smith since the release of, and negative reaction to, Cop Out. Since that time, Smith has pretty much stated he does not need to listen to critics, increasingly plays (and listens only) to his base, and now seems intent on burning as many bridges as possible with the Hollywood system following the premier of his latest film Red State with his auction stunt.

Oh, and he announced he is pretty much quitting filmmaking (or at least writing and directing) after his next film Hit Somebody.

Right. Sure Kevin. We will see when Clerks 3: Midlife Crisis is released, followed by Mallrats: The Reboot and Jay and Silent Bob Time Travel to 2011, wherein the duo attempt to stop Kevin Smith from making the biggest error in his career.

Here is the thing: as much as Smith might have a loyal fan base that loves to hear him talk, and as much as Smith may hate the Hollywood system, in large part Smith’s appeal as a personality steams from his tales that result from his interactions with the system. It is not just how Smith talks, but what he talks about, like that great Prince story. Or his seemingly volatile “relationship” with Tim Burton. Or the hell that was dealing with ABC during the production of Clerks: the Animated Series. Smith’s life is nothing less than a real life version of Charlie Murphy’s “True Hollywood Stories” from Chappelle's Show.

To keep those stories fresh, Smith needs to keep making films. More to the point, he needs to keep dealing with Hollywood and the people that become the basis for his tales and his appeal. Without keeping this stock of stories fresh, that hardcore fan base will gradually dissolve. This is why the idea of Smith retiring is ludicrous. Besides which, Smith has made similar declarations in the past that have never held up, like the idea that Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back was the final film set in Smith’s “Jersey-verse.”

Still, Smith seems intent on burning his bridges with the industry. Which brings us back to George Lucas.

As I noted, Smith and Lucas at this point are rather similar except in terms of the scale of their operation. And while Smith seems intent on following every error made by Lucas when it comes to his films and the filmmaking process on his smaller scale, he needs to remember that the scale of George Lucas’s empire means he holds a great deal of power. If Lucas did what Smith has done, or even went as far as to punch a studio executive in the nose, moon every distributor personally, and even kicked a puppy for the hell of it, he would still be welcomed back with open arms if he announced new Star Wars projects.

Smith, do you really think Jay and Silent Bob have that kind of pull if you ever want, or more likely need to go back into the world of filmmaking?

As a film fan, I am the first to admit that most of the practices of the Hollywood industry are annoying, backwards, and destructive. And I would be lying if I did not admit that Smith’s self distribution approach of road showing a film is not something that I thought (or more accurately, daydreamed) about myself. Developing a reliable niche audience in this economy makes perfect sense. And it is always fascinating to hear filmmakers talk about their problems with the system.

But even the most vocal critics will admit you need to play the politics of the system to a point. Even George Lucas has done so, regardless of how poor his films may have turned out.

Keep it in mind Smith. It is in your best interests.

New Review Monday...and Really, Kevin Smith?

2011-01-21T10:41:00.002-05:00

New review is delayed to Monday due to one or two work related things needing to take priority.

Meanwhile, try and wrap your head around this. Kevin Smith, I like you, but man that is a crazy risk to take if this film doesn't work. Careful man, careful.

Spawn (Dippé 1997)

2011-01-14T01:00:00.009-05:00

(NOTE: I will admit right now that this is less a review of the film Spawn and more or a discussion of Roger Ebert and his critical practice. Please keep in mind while reading)

Normally, I would not bother to ask my readers to read another critic’s review before reading my own (seeing as how most critics are better than myself). However, when the critic I am guiding you to is A) Roger Ebert, and B) he has written this review of Mark A.Z. Dippé’s 1997 film Spawn, I feel compelled to ask you all to read the work before launching into my own.

Now, allow me to be clear: I love Roger Ebert. He and Gene Siskel were among the first critics I ever bothered following, and I continue to do so in the case of Ebert. I respect his work without always agreeing with it, and even when I do disagree, he usually offers something to think about. Despite this respect however, there are two Roger Eberts that one might end up reading with any given review. The first, and most common, is the intelligent, well learned film scholar who can discuss and dissect a film with the best of them.

The other Ebert is the one who wrote the embarrassingly bad Spawn review I just asked you to read.

The review is not embarrassing because Roger Ebert liked the film: as bad as the film is, I have no beef with anyone enjoying it. Heck, I think the film so bad as to be brilliantly awful entertainment, what with Martin Sheen going off the deep end of “ham” with his performance, the bizarre turn from John Leguizamo, and Nicol Williamson ending his film career in the worst possible manner. No, what is embarrassing is the pains Ebert goes to try and justify his three and a half star review of the film, and his attempts to try and sound as if he has a working knowledge of the comic book medium. The review rings hollow, and highlights one of Ebert's downfalls in his critical practice.

Just take the first paragraph of Ebert’s review, that “Spawn is best seen as an experimental art film…[w]hat we have here are creators in several different areas doing their best to push the envelope. The subject is simply an excuse for their art--just as it always is with serious artists.” Putting aside the absurd notion that “serious artists” have little use for their subjects beyond using them as a pretext, Ebert basically asks the reader/potential viewer of Spawn to simply turn off their brain and admire the “pretty pictures.” And while I normally do not agree with such requests, I can at least respect the idea of someone admitting to doing so. They are at least being honest.

However, being Roger Ebert, respectable film critic 95% of the time, a request to "shut off your brain" would be, to say the least, odd. Or rather, odd to the audience he feels he is writing to. Hence, we get his dressed up version of the "turn off your brain" request, with reference to considering the film as an art film and to focus on the daring do of the special effects artists, who have apparently crafted a visual world that is, and I quote, "unforgettable."

Ok, fine, let us follow Ebert down this path for a moment and ignore everything except the visual effects, which includs computer animation, makeup, etc. Are they as boundary pushing as he claims? Is this world the filmmakers have created on the level of Metropolis and Blade Runner as he states? There is a simple answer to this:

No.

This is not a “no” in the context of the fourteen years of effects work that have come since the film came out. This is a “no” that comes out of an awareness of what was capable at the time. This is a “no” that comes from a deep love of real special effects development, witnessed not only in Metropolis and Blade Runner as Ebert mentions, but from the following films that predate Spawn: Le Voyage Dans la Lune (1902); King Kong (1933); Citizen Kane (1941); The Wolfman (1941); The Beast from 20, 000 Fathoms (1953); 2001 - A Space Odyssey (1968); Star Wars (1977); Superman: The Movie (1978); An American Werewolf in London (1981); Tron (1982); The Thing (1982); The Dark Crystal (1982); The Terminator (1984); Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988); The Abyss (1989); Terminator 2 - Judgement Day (1991); and Jurassic Park (1992). This is a “no” on behalf of Georges Méliès, Linwood G. Dunn, Ray Harryhausen, Douglas Trumbull, John Dykstra, Stan Winston, Tom Savini, Rob Bottin, Greg Nicotero, Robert Kurtzman, Jim Henson, and Rick Barker, among others, who I would not blame for feeling insulted by the suggestion that Spawn’s effects work are anywhere near their achievements, or builds upon them.

Not only is Spawn not a boundary pushing film in terms of special effects, the quality of its special effects are a massive step back from what was achievable at the time. While the design of the Spawn makeup in the film is fine (not great: fine), the minute the film decides to use digitally created effects, which is often, the whole film goes to hell (no pun intended). Take a look at the following captures from the film.

Now, remember in his review of the film, Ebert compared these images of hell to the work of Hieronymous Bosch, who painted in the late 1400s. Below is an example of Bosch’s work.

Does anything in the images from Spawn seem remotely worthy of Bosch’s work? The visions of hell in Spawn look about the quality of a Full Motion Video Game (FMVs) cut scene from the same era, which were often made with vastly less money and resources than available to the filmmakers of Spawn. Granted, the playback of such FMVs were in low resolution, but that was because of the computer limitations of the time.

Allow that to sink in for a moment folks: the special effects "wonders" that Ebert seems to love are on part with those in low resolution video game footage of the 1995-1999 era.

Of course, maybe Ebert was referring to the morphing effects in the film. The thing is, even if these were what Ebert was impressed by, Spawn A) did not pioneer the effect, as it appeared at least two years previous in the slightly-better-than-Spawn film Mortal Kombat (1995) (and yes, I am well aware that I am saying a Paul W.S. Anderson film is better than Spawn), and B) Mortal Kombat did these morphing effects far better, as did the 1996 Doctor Who TV movie. And even the television series Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.

But I digress. The key point here is that in no way, shape or form can Spawn be considered for the value of its special effects as Ebert points towards, let alone be mentioned in the same breath as films that legitimately pushed forth the development of special effects. This bizarre-at-best attempt at giving a sense of “legitimacy” to his enjoyment of the film is the kind of deranged statement that would have killed the authority of any lesser critic. In the case of Ebert, this failed attempt at trying to give Spawn a historical and cinematic significance comes across as little more than an expression of class anxiety and vanity: he enjoyed a film he views as being trash, and therefore must justify it both to himself and his envisioned readership. This class bias becomes all the more apparent in the manner Ebert appraises the film's narrative, and what it tells us about how he envisions the comic book medium and its readers/creators.

Certainly, there is not much of value in the storyline of Spawn, and the film suffers from the same problem the comics of the character suffer from (at least the ones I read from early in the run): good ideas with no idea what to do with them. The film merely suffers from the added problem of following the same, lame ABC plotting used by every writer who has misread Joseph Campbell's work as a rule book for writing, and the film never bothers to delve into the psychology of its protagonist Al Simmons (Michael Jai White) the "spawn" of the title. Characters make idiotic decisions because the plot tells them to, and tries to get by on the assumed ignorance of the (1997) audience on several topics. For example, you would think that a top CIA agent might realize that destroying a computer monitor will do nothing to stop information from being sent over the Internet. Not in the universe of Spawn.

Given this shoddy writing, one would be able to forgive Ebert for being dismissive of the film's narrative. Indeed, his criticism that the story is rather a sentimental piece of work is completely correct. The problem though is that Ebert assumes that not only is the quality of storytelling in Spawn is the same quality of storytelling in comics, but that this quality is what comic book readers crave and writers strive for. What else can be taken away from such statements as " in comic books, and movies spawned by comic books...[w]hat matters is style, tone, and creative energy"?

The entire manner in which Ebert treats comic book creators, readers and the medium in general is filled with contempt, and his review Spawn is this contempt written loud, and in near complete ignorance of the medium, its history, and its capabilities. Which again, would be fine if he would admit as much. Instead, we get to witness Roger Ebert's laughable at best attempts at trying to sound as if he is some authority on the comic book medium ("origination story"? Please stop trying to class up our terminology) to his assumed audience: the "literate" types who do not read comic books. For Ebert, the comic book reader and writer is some alien life form, caught up in their own little world in which “real” art and “real” writers do not come into, and hence will not read his reviews. Again, I ask how is one to take a condescending statement such as "I am sure there will be some who get involved at the plot level..."? We know who you are talking about Roger. Or rather, who you think you are talking about

Yes, the comic book reader and writer are strange illiterate aliens to Mr. Ebert. Never mind the existence of Alan Moore, who’s philosophical ponderings were what interested Ebert so much in Watchmen (2009). Or J. Michael Straczynski, a long time writer of comics and animated television who also writes films such as Changeling (2008). Or Neil Gaiman, one of the greatest living fantasy writers working today across pretty much all media, whose defining work might just be his epic Sandman series. No, these aliens known as comic book fans and writers care not for narrative, but merely “style, tone, and creative energy.”

Bullshit.

When you get right down to it, Ebert's review of Spawn is little more than the worst of Ebert's critical practices rolled into one review: written in ignorance, utilizing assumption and stereotypes over facts, and trying too hard to either justify his enjoyment of the film to either his assumed readership, or to himself. Probably both. It is a review that tries too hard, and had Ebert simply admitted to liking the film rather than reaching for flimsy reasons to justify that love, no one would have really cared.

There is no shame Mr. Ebert in admitting you loved a trashy movie, be it ironically or seriously.

There is no shame in your loving Spawn.

Read This

2011-01-06T11:25:00.003-05:00

Best write up I have seen on Tron Legacy. So good that it kills any reason for me to write about the film myself.

Daybreakers (Spierig 2009/2010)

2011-01-05T12:49:00.006-05:00

Is anything more annoying to genre film fans than seeing a good film fail to find the audience upon initial release? Actually, yes, there is, and that is seeing miserable excuses for genre cinema succeed with general audiences, thus ensure that crap continues to be produced instead of solid efforts.

Among the most annoying films to see fail last year was Daybreakers (Spierig 2009/2010 [while a 2009 film, it opened in North America in January of 2010]), a film which addresses a long asked question in horror film circles: if vampires did succeed in taking over the world and became the dominate species, how would they keep feeding themselves with a dwindling human population? This question drives the narrative of Daybreakers, a near future set film that deftly blends science fiction and horror in a manner that few films ever achieve.

Looking to answer the problem of the depleting blood supply in Daybreakers is Dr. Dalton (Ethan Hawke), chief scientist for a major corporation lead by Charles Bromley (Sam Neil). Dalton’s task is not imperative due survival reasons however, because the lack of blood does not kill a vampire. Rather the longer a vampire goes without blood, the more likely they are to transform into a mindless bestial form. Worse, the blood supplies are down to merely a few weeks worth left, meaning the bulk of the population is facing this animalistic existence.

Dalton’s personal motives for looking for a blood alternative is not driven by a desire to preserve vampire kind however, but rather to preserve humanity. He sympathizes with the remaining humans, and hopes his work will lead to the end of the human blood farming that has been undertaken to preserve most of the population. Dalton’s search for a blood alternative is completely altered however due to a chance meeting with a group of humans on the run, a meeting which leads him to ‘Elvis’ (Willem Dafoe), a one time vampire who has been miraculously cured without knowing quite how.

Elvis believes Dalton can unravel the mystery of the how the cure works before it is too late for the population of the world, but complicating the situation is Dalton’s brother Frankie (Michael Dorman), a human hunter looking to help Bromley preserve vampire kind, regardless of whether or not a cure is in the best interests of both of the vampires and humans.

What separates Daybreakers from most other recent genre efforts is the level of detail that writers/directors Michael and Peter Spierig - the duo behind the heavily flawed but fun 2003 effort Undead - bring to the film. Like the best of science fiction film and literature, the brothers have crafted a full fledged world, packed with detail that, while not always necessary for the narrative, give a full sense of a living, breathing alternate reality. How can vampires function in daylight? Try interconnected underground tunnels, and cars that utilize video cameras as opposed to windows. How does a world full of vampires manage to keep their blood supplies from running out faster than they already are? Blood rationing, controlled by the government and private corporate interests. These are just the big questions that I am give the answers to; a good deal of the film’s joys come from discovering how the world of vampires works, and just how frighteningly close to our day to day existence it remains.

Perhaps more shocking however is the manner in which the filmmakers utilize the world they have created to deliver a rather subtle, and incredibly cleaver, allegory for the anxieties surrounding the uncontrolled consumption within Western society, particularly of fossil fuels such as oil. The film places great emphasis upon vehicles and road imagery in the film, with several significant events featuring cars prominently. The rationing and price increases of blood recall the fuel crisis of 1973, as does much of the imagery throughout the film. Dalton’s race for a “blood substitute” is a just subtle enough nod towards contemporary research and development of alternative energy sources. Read in this manner, the film’s presentation of the relationship between the militaristic human hunters and Bromley’s corporate power seems eerily similar to the conspiracy claims that oil supplies were the driving force behind most of the United States middle eastern involvement in the past decade, most notably the Iraq war.

It is not all politics though, as the filmmakers have fun playing with and subverting the typical tropes and imagery of the vampire film. While the 1998 mini-classic sci-fi/horror/superhero effort Blade first initiated the modern presentation of the vampire at the top of modern urban life, Daybreakers takes this concept to its limit, with the upper crust of vampire kind living in sterile consumerist paradise/hell. In contrast to this, the surviving humans have taken to the vampire hangouts of yesteryear, in isolated vineyards with gothic style housing. Clandestine meetings take place under the cover of day in the biggest car in the county (I have no shame. Really), and salvation may come with a vampire bite, though not in the manner you think.

As an Australian/American co-production, the film is peppered with talent from both countries. Hawke makes for an solid lead in Dalton, utilizing his almost minimalist approach to acting to great impact, while the Spierig brothers making excellent use of Hawke’s rather gaunt appearance. Dafoe manages to walk a fine line between caricature and character as ‘Elvis,’ while Claudia Karvan is sidelined by a somewhat underwritten role as Elvis’ right hand woman . Also suffering from slightness of writing is Dorman, though his performance is strong enough to make up for the somewhat sketch nature of his character.

The show stopper in the film however is Neil, a villain who could have come across as a rather typical corporate bad guy were it not for some better than expected writing, and Neil’s magnificent work. Bromley is a monster, but a rather understandable and sympathetic one. His actions within the film’s main plot are villainous, but a subplot involving Bromley’s daughter is rather touching, as we get to see him as a well meaning, but rather destructive father away from the film’s main narrrative concerns. While the subplot does involve a touch of coincidence, the manner in which it impacts Bromley’s overall character is rather understated and subtle, and the effort from both Neil and the filmmakers is much appreciated. Plus, (MAJOR SPOILER ALERT) Neil is given the single best death scene of his entire career with this film, and it is one that would make George A. Romero smile (MAJOR SPOILER ALERT OVER).

Perhaps the most impressive element of the film however is the rather ambiguous note upon which the film concludes, tackling a question that most films of this type avoid addressing: even if one could find the solution to the worldwide problem, just how on Earth is any solution going to be disseminated effectively? Rather than using some plot contrivance to write themselves out of this corner, the filmmakers address the issue head on in a rather dark manner. It is an ending which provides hope, but it is a subdued hope, leaving the audience to grapple with several narrative and thematic questions that are not fully answered on purpose. It is a rather gutsy manner upon which to end the film, and it shows the level of ambition brought to the project by all involved.

There are minor flaws with Daybreakers, but they are just that, minor. With any luck, in ten years time the film will be remembered as one of the stronger, if not strongest, vampire films to come out of the current craze for undead fiction. Highly recommended.

RIP Pete Postlethwaite

2011-01-03T16:08:00.003-05:00

Well, here is a tough one.

Actor Pete Postlethwaite has died at age 64. While not a household name, Postlethwaite, was a character actor of great talent who appeared in numerous films and television programs over the years. In 2010, he appeared in in no less than Inception, The Town, and Clash of the Titains. This is only the tip of the iceberg as far as his film work however; his credits also include The Usual Suspects, Romeo + Juliet, The Last of the Mohicans, Alien 3, Hamlet, and The Lost World: Jurrasic Park among others.

I always looked forward to seeing his work, and his death is quite a shock. I had no idea he was ill, let alone near death. May he rest in peace and God be with his family.

New Year, New Reviews, Coming Soon!

2011-01-02T18:54:00.001-05:00

That's right! A whole new year is about to kick off here at the The Experience Cinematic! So get ready, it's coming!

Merry Christmas to All!!

2010-12-25T16:02:00.001-05:00

Happy Holidays folks!

Drive Angry Trailer

2010-12-22T22:40:00.001-05:00

Again, I am rooting for the next few Nic Cage films. We need insane genre pics like these...as long as they are good.

Dracula [The Horror of Dracula] (Fisher 1958)

2010-12-16T14:18:00.010-05:00

(NOTE: SPOILERS AHEAD. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

Dracula (known as The Horror of Dracula in North America) (Fisher 1958) is not an adaptation of Bram Stoker’s famous novel in a traditional sense. Rather, the Hammer Films' production is a total subversion of Stoker’s novel, parodying the underlining paranoia found in the novel about “uncontrolled” female sexuality, the loss of Western male agency, and the supposed threat of the racial “Other.” This subversion results in Dracula being less a horror film than it is a black comedy of cuckold husbands and lovers trying to secure their own feeling of sexual prowess, and in the process, explores the dysfunctional nature of heterosexual relationships within Western society.

This parody of Stoker’s concerns starts immediately as the film begins, with Jonathan Harker (John Van Eyssen) arriving at Dracula’s (Christopher Lee) castle to act as a librarian. In the first of many major shifts from Stoker’s text, Jonathan has arrived at Castle Dracula with the full intent of killing the Count, a complete inversion from the usual opening of Harker arriving to help the Count move to London, with Dracula posing the threat to the Western world by bringing his evil into London. The Dracula of this film shows no such signs of leaving his home anytime soon, or that he wants anything from Jonathan other than for him to look after his books. This Dracula is, oddly enough, a rather domestic individual, with a single female companion as opposed to several brides, and a rather warm and friendly décor (for a castle) in the central hall. He shows no special interest in Jonathan, and seems content to just let Jonathan settle in and get to work. The worst that can be said of Dracula is that he is a little perfunctory as a host, but that is hardly a crime.

As such, Jonathan is the invading monster, not Dracula. Jonathan’s particular threat is the domestic, heterosexual home which Dracula has established, and to the phallic power of Dracula as Jonathan attempts to give Dracula‘s companion the “help“ she begs for, help which turns out to be Jonathan’s blood. The scene in which she partly succeeds is rather remarkable, shot in a manner that is not unlike a seduction, giving the scene a rich subtext, which explodes as Dracula catches this act, resulting in the first shot of Dracula in “vampire mode.” Vampirism as a metaphor for sex and sexuality has a well documented history, but with this scene director Terrance Fisher underlines it in a fairly explicit manner, as Dracula attempts to reassert his phallic power over his companion, taking her out of the room and leaving Jonathan alone.

In fact, Harker finds himself the next morning back in his bed, seemingly treated with care. So naturally, Jonathan decides the logical thing to do is to make his way into the lower levels of the home, to the tomb of Dracula and his companion, and then kill the companion. The murder is a fairly loaded moment, as Jonathan attempts to reassert his own phallic power, brought into question by falling for the companion’s charms, and is the final violation of Dracula’s own heterosexual power as Jonathan “cuckolds” him.

The visual importance of Harker’s decent into the tomb, to the castle’s very foundations adds further complexities to the already complex opening act of the film. As noted, Dracula’s home is a rather domestic site in this film, and the placement of Dracula’s tomb/bedroom at the foundation of the home, shared with his companion, acts a visual metaphor for how heterosexual coupling is the foundation for the traditional Western family structure, and by extension the social/cultural structures that flow from this foundation. Yet clearly the relationship between Dracula and his companion is a strained one, a strain where the mere presence of Jonathan is enough to break the relationship down.

It is this strain and anxiety within the heterosexual relationship that becomes the central point of the rest of the film, and the weak point which Dracula strikes at in achieving his revenge against Jonathan (as well as shoring up his wounded phallic power). Dracula’s targets are the Holmwood family, which include Harker’s fiancée Lucy (Carol Marsh), her sister-in-law Mina (Melissa Stribling), and most importantly, Mina’s husband Arthur Holmwood (Michael Gough). It is at this point that the film becomes almost a bedroom farce, as Dracula sneaks into the Holmwood home and attacks/sleeps with Arthur’s sister and wife to the near obliviousness of Arthur and Van Helsing (Peter Cushing), the seeming protector of the heterosexual relationship. But more on Van Helsing further on.

Long time Hammer screenwriter Jimmy Sangster and director Fisher construct the Dracula “attack” sequences in a manner that plays off of the audience’s familiarity with the Dracula legend, and furthers their probe into heterosexual anxiety. In the past, Dracula has been given the ability to hypnotize his victims, and one could assume that is what is happening in this film. Yet at no point is it suggested that Lee’s power-reduced Dracula even has the ability to hypnotise his “victims.” Instead, it is more than likely that Mina and Lucy willingly (and with great pleasure) go alone with Dracula and his escapades. Consider the looks on the women’s faces as they are confronted by Dracula: is it terror in their eye, or excitement? Why is it that Mina seems so happy after her encounters with Dracula? The brilliance of the film is that it allows the audience to take either possibility as being the case, while never actually giving any real evidence to suggest the hypnotic power of Dracula is to blame. As such, Arthur and Van Helsing’s conviction that Dracula is to solely blame comes across as them being in denial to the women’s dissatisfaction with their intended lovers, a denial likely to be shared by some of the audience.

One of the sharpest choices made in the film is how Arthur is set up as a mirror to Dracula and his failed relationship with his companion. It is not merely that Arthur’s marriage comes under threat from the sexual dynamo that is Dracula, but how the strength of Arthur’s agency and relationship with Mina is brought into question before Dracula’s arrival through one little detail: the absence of children. Mina and Arthur are a slightly older couple, and the implication is that they have been married for some time. Yet, if the point of marriage, both at the time the film was made and within the time frame the narrative takes place, the key point of marriage was for the act of procreation. We are never given a reason for the lack of children. In fact, it is easy to miss, given that Arthur and Mina spend their time looking after Arthur’s younger sister Lucy. Yet the absence of children is a striking omission, and in the absence of other answers, begins to lay the ground work for Arthur’s later impotency in the face of Dracula.

Of course, there is still the question of where Van Helsing fits into these issues of sexuality and agency. More than any other figure in the narrative, Cushing’s Van Helsing complicates and subverts Stoker’s attempts at shoring up the power of male heterosexuality. While Stoker’s Van Helsing was an elderly male helping to guide the young, virile men in the protection of “their” women, and thus maintain the “normalcy” of white, male heterosexual privilege in sexual relations, the Van Helsing of Hammer's Dracula is a powerful foe to Dracula because he is asexual. At no point are we given any indication that Van Helsing holds any interest in sex or sexual relations: he resists the female vampires that Arthur cowers from, and whom Jonathan is seduced by with ease. More importantly, we see Van Helsing living out of a well kept bachelor pad, with no sign of their ever having been a lover of any gender in his life. He is still fairly young, is highly intelligent, and as the conclusion of the film makes clear, he is a physical match for Dracula. Yet Van Helsing’s life is seemingly dedicated only to his work, and the somewhat predictable path of Van Helsing substituting for Jonathan in Lucy‘s life is never even hinted at as a possibility. Given all of this, Van Helsing is a figure who sits outside the heterosexual family dynamic, a point made clear early on when he is distrusted and ignored by the sneering Arthur: he just does not seem to belong.

Yet, like the cowboy figures who could bring civilization to the west, yet not be part of it, Van Helsing is a protector of the heterosexual lifestyle while living apart from it. Given that vampirism is connected to heterosexual desires in the film, Van Helsing’s clinical study of vampirism can be read as an understanding of human sexuality, a study which like so many others necessitates a level of detachment from the subject. Interestingly, and somewhat contradictory, if read in this manner, Van Helsing is not merely the protector of heterosexuality and male privilege, but also its destroyer as he hunts Dracula. What is more, given that Van Helsing sent Jonathan ahead to take care of Dracula at the start of the film, he is the instigator or the whole chain of events!

Given this, is it possible to read Van Helsing as the true site of horror, and thus ascribe a conservative reading of the film where the “aberrant” sexuality is the “problem” in the film? Possible, yes, but I do not believe that is what is quite going on here. Remember, the cracks in the heterosexual relationships were present before the start of the film for these characters: Van Helsing’s actions merely brought the problems to the surface, and did not cause them. In this context, Van Helsing is the bringer or light, both figuratively and, at the conclusion of the film, literally, exposing the problems at the very heart of Western social structures such as the family, upon which the rest of society is built.

He is not, however, the individual designated to solve these problems. No one is. As Dracula comes to a conclusion, we are left on an ambiguous note, with Mina “returning” both to humanity and Arthur, yet no attempt is made to resolve the complex issues raised in the film. There is no final child born, as in the Stoker novel, to suggest a supposed return to “normalcy.” Stoker’s traditional conceptions of good and evil are instead tossed out the window, and the audience is left to sort out the pieces that remain. It is this refusal to contain these issues that not only transforms Hammer’s Dracula into a subversion of Stoker’s classic work, but allows it to be a superior work to its source as well.

Cinematic Dreams for 2011

2010-12-14T12:17:00.002-05:00

Sorry for the lack of updates this month: it has been a busy time in real life, which combined with a bit of a post October writing funk has done nothing for my reviews. I plan to have at least one more up before the end of the month (and year), and should have a fresh crop ready to go in January, 2011.

Speaking of the New Year however, and the mostly miserable failings of 2010 at the cinema, I would like to take this time to go over my hopes and dreams for 2011 and beyond.

The “Death” of the Blockbuster

Well, the death of the blockbuster as the cornerstone of Hollywood’s financial game plan. In a year filled with financial and critical disappointments, it is about time Hollywood finally took notice that the blockbuster might not be the best suited to ensuring the film industry’s existence. Take a look at the past weekend’s box office, where the 150 million dollar third entry in the Chronicles of Narnia franchise opened at number one, at yet still is a disappointment. Better yet, consider film The Tourist, with what are supposedly the two biggest movie stars on the planet. A 100 million dollar plus (reported) budget, and a 17 million dollar opening. Hardly seems worth paying those two the cash, does it?
Speaking of which...

The Movie Star IS Dead. Accept It.

I am not saying that there are not actors people are willing to pay to see, but the time in which you could slap the name of a star or two above a poster and expect to sell a ton of tickets is gone. Ask yourselves this question: since Will Smith, has there really been anyone to come along whom, on almost name alone, could sell a film?

Part of the problem is the saturation of the media with supposed “stars.” Look back at the greats, from the Classic Hollywood Era till around the 1990s: Humphrey Bogart, Lauran Bacall, Spencer Tracy, Katherine Hepburn Marlon Brando, Robert DeNiro, and hell, even Arnold Schwarzenegger. Yes, each has headlined at least one bomb, but at their prime, they sold tickets like nobody’s business. In each case, there was that special “something” about them, even if it was just the sheer physical spectacle of their body (in Arnold’s case). The testament to their power was when they could star in a mediocre film, or a film that was solely built around their personality, and sell tickets. No high concept or name branding to hide behind.

These days, there are plenty of “stars,” but no guarantees. Leonardo DiCaprio is a fine actor, but his biggest successes have not been sold on his name alone. George Clooney is one of the smarter stars in Hollywood, with creative and financial success. But it took the combined presence of Clooney, Brad Pitt and other big names to sell the Ocean’s Eleven series of films. And for those of you waiting to point to The Expendables as an example of movie stars still holding power, ask yourself this: if this film had only featured Stallone, and maybe even Jason Statham, instead of building itself around the combined spectacle of as many legendary (i.e. older) movie stars in one film, would it have been nearly the success it was? Also keep in mind that the film was made on a modest budget overall, and that its success is highly relative compared to the heyday of each of the film’s stars.

Adults are Your Friends. So are Low Costs.

Or rather, adult content is your friend.

Look at the following list of films from the past year: Inception; The Town; Black Swan; The King’s Speech; The Fighter. All of these are titles of adult oriented films, and all thus far have been outperforming the youth oriented films that drove the box office this year. And better yet, most of these were fairly inexpensive to produce, save the obvious exception.

Yes, I understand that youthful audiences have the most disposable income, but with the wide variety of media fighting for their attention, most are likely to be, well, fickle. And it is not JUST the youth I am talking about here; older audiences are just as guilty. Point is, it is the hardcore cinema fans, the ones who are willing to show up each week, even to see the same film again, that carry a given movie beyond week one at the box office. THAT is the audience you should be chasing.

And that audience tends to want substance.

Look, anyone who has spent any time at this site knows I love some straightforward fun, but that is all Hollywood seems to be trying for these days (and failing to achieve I might add). We need substance. I don’t care if you have to import it from another country, but please make the option available! I love Netflix, but honestly, I do want to be excited to go to a theatre once and a while. So come on Hollywood, throw us a bone. Please.

More “Mini-Majors”

Or how about a series of new, smaller studios not connected to the majors?
Part of the problem with modern Hollywood is the lack of competing studios. Even in the late 1980s, there were companies like Orion Pictures to give the majors a little bit of competition and release some odder films. These days, even New Line cinema has been absorbed into Warner Brothers, Mirimax has just managed to get out from under Disney, and the Weinstein Company has barely dodged being put out of commission. That leaves us with the majors, and their “indie” companies, if you really believe them to be separate companies.

The only new studio in recent years has been Summit Entertainment, which despite being built on the backs of the Twilight Saga, has proven itself willing to take on some projects other studios have not been willing to touch. These includ The Hurt Locker and the upcoming, financially dicey project The Beaver, which stars Mel Gibson. While hardly backing or releasing projects that are all that boundary pushing or independent, the studio is proving to be slightly riskier with its releases.

But it is still not enough. We need more studios to diversify the types of films released into general theatres, and we need more voices making it to the silver screen. Perhaps it will take a breaking apart of the currently existing majors, or a group of young upstarts, but news studios are needed to create competition. And with competition, hopefully some better films.

And those, my dear readers, are my cinematic hopes and dreams for 2011. Will they likely come true? Well, not likely in 2011, but as the next decade rolls on, I continue to live in hope that some of these will come true. And who knows? Perhaps with enough voices demanding it, we’ll get at least one or two of these to happen.

New Opinion Piece Tomorrow

2010-12-13T16:07:00.001-05:00

Sorry for the lack of updates: life been a bit busy, combined with a bit of writer's block (aghhh!). New piece tomorrow however!

Dreamscape (Ruben 1984)

2010-12-01T21:02:00.006-05:00

What does it mean to be original? It is a question that has been asked time and again in the arts, particularly in contemporary times. In a media saturated landscape, the question is rather confusing, with so many voices, projects and ideas being tossed about at nearly the speed of thought. For many, the very concept of originality is dead, with all art considered a reworking or synthesis of old ideas and concepts into a new form.

Yet, the concept of originality remains an obsession in our culture, particularly when it comes to cinema. How often do we hear people complain that a given film is unoriginal, or similar to another idea? Putting aside that such complaints tend to miss that the very films they grant the status of being “original” are merely re-workings of other texts themselves, these complaints tend to associate the idea of being original as “superior” to the works that come later. It ignores the possibility of refinement, improvement or an alternative take on similar ideas.

Certainly, there is some merit to the lack of “originality” in modern cinema: the endless parade of remakes are a testament to Hollywood’s never ending cannibalism of its past. Yet, the vast majority of cinema is built upon cobbling ideas and concepts from elsewhere: classic Hollywood frequently adapted, “borrowed” and outright stole ideas from other media. These other media were frequently drawing from other sources and ideas themselves. Even the great William Shakespeare’s plays were frequently synthesising other works that had preceded him.

While films, at least within the commercial system, often rely on a blend of innovation and the familiar, what people respond to most often is how well a given film is executed. When a film enjoyed, the complaints about originality tend to be mild. Certainly, a brilliant premise is a great place to start, but if the execution of that premise is lacking, or even outright awful, then it matters not how strong the premise is. Likewise, a thin or well worn premise properly executed can become a magnificent film.

Which brings us to the 1984 science fiction film Dreamscape and recent comments by filmmaker John Landis (The Blues Brothers) regarding the similarity of Christopher Nolan’s Inception to the earlier film. While Landis praised Nolan, he made sure to make clear that the film was not an original, referencing Dreamscape as having beaten Nolan to the punch by 26 years. And indeed the basic premise of the film, in which a man is able to enter the dreams of others, is similar to the premise of Inception. Furthermore, like Inception, Dreamscape’s narrative centers on the eventual invasion of the mind of an important man and the blurring of various dreams together. Yet Dreamscape is a decidedly inferior work compared to Nolan’s Inception, with its unique premise serving little purpose beyond spicing up an otherwise conventional thriller that is filled with the stock characters and situations, which are executed in a fairly tired manner.

Dreamscape focuses on the character of Alex Gardner (Dennis Quaid), a young psychic who is dragged into an experimental program by Dr. Novotny (Max von Sydow), who years ago studied Alex when his abilities first emerged. Novotny has created a device which allows psychics to enter the dreams of others as a form of therapy/psychoanalysis. Alex is blackmailed into helping Novotny, but he at least sees the project as a way to try and woo Jane DeVries (Kate Capshaw), another scientist working on the project.

The thriller side of the film is provided by Bob Blair (Christopher Plummer), a high ranking head of a secret government organization and friend of the President of the United States (Eddie Albert). The President is suffering from recurring nightmares of a nuclear holocaust, and has decided to push the country towards nuclear disarmament. Blair, fearful such an approach will put the United States at risk, decides that the only course of action is to eliminate the President while he dreams. When Alex stumbles upon the plot, he is put on the run in a desperate race to save the President’s life.

The lack of ambition on the part of the filmmakers is evident in nearly every frame of Dreamscape, starting with its cast of characters. For a film that involves human psychology in its very premise, the film is peopled by cartoons found in below average thrillers. Dennis Quaid is once again stuck playing a second rate Harrison Ford as Alex, the supposedly loveable cocky bastard. Quaid does his best with the material, but given how simplistic the character is, he is reduced to getting by on charm, which becomes hopeless after a certain sequence (more on that in a minute). Capshaw, Plummer and von Sydow fair no better, being stuck with the roles of the hero’s love interest, bad-for-the-hell-of-it-villain, and wise old mentor figure respectively.

The closest the film comes to dealing with the psychology of its characters is a scene in which Alex enters Jane’s dream, which quickly becomes an erotic fantasy. The scene is played for its seeming sexiness, yet the context of this “love” scene involves Alex entering Jane’s dream without her permission, evoking notions of rape. The film however chooses to ignore the implications of this scene, brushing them under the rug as quickly as possible to get on with the plot. The aftermath of these scene is doubly damaging for the film, introducing an unsettling and complicated side to the otherwise bland Alex that might have been interesting, if disturbing, to explore, only to ignore the subject while asking the audience to keep finding Alex a likeable rogue. As such, it is hard to find the film a fun romp as much as the film would like to convince the audience it is when our “hero” comes close to being an out and out sexual predator.

Speaking of the dreamscapes, these might be the most disappointing aspect of the film overall. As with everything else in the film, the dream reality is treated in as safe and standard a manner as possible, marked off from reality with extreme lighting, off kilter camera work and a far too literal correlation between the fears of characters and their realization within the dreamscape. Why is it that one patient is struggling at achieving an erection? It is because he is afraid that his wife is sleeping around, and that is just what happens in the dream. What is the weakness to the assassin sent to kill the president? Why, it just so happens to be the personal detail Alex learns early on. The imagery for snake monsters and demonic dogs is so by the book that it is astounding that the filmmakers even bothered with them, and the fairly poor effects work in achieving these visions does nothing to help combat the lack of threat found in these dream sequences.

The worst sin of the film is how it fails to integrate the various components of the film together. The science fiction, thriller and romantic sides of the story all feel as if they are distinct films forced to exist together without any thought to whether they should coexist in the same narrative. Inception manages to successfully blend the various genres it pulls from together because the film is unified in its focus on the psychology of protagonist Dominic Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio), whose issues ultimately subsume the dream worlds he finds himself in. Dreamscape lacks any similar type of unifying principle, bouncing from scene to scene without any goal. It is as if the filmmakers had three different scripts, snipping scenes from each one and stitched them together in the most basic fashion possible. The film was written by three writers, David Loughery (Star Trek V: The Final Frontier), Chuck Russell (The Blob) and director Joseph Ruben, and the film shows the signs of too many hands trying to guide the final product.

Given these problems, it is hard to give Dreamscape’s “original” premise any merit given its complete lack of originality in terms of execution. Yet, What damns Dreamscape all the more is not its failings in comparison with Inception, but its failings compared to another 1984 film: Wes Craven’s Nightmare on Elm Street. With that film, director Craven blends reality and the dream world to much greater impact and thematic resonance, cleverly addressing issues of abuse and the disintegration of the American family within the seemingly limited confines of the slasher genre. As such, Craven’s film still feels modern and of our times; Dreamscape feels twenty years older than it is.

RIP Leslie Nielsen

2010-11-28T21:59:00.003-05:00

Well, this sucks. Leslie Nielsen was huge part of my childhood thanks to the Naked Gun films and countless times Airplane aired on TV. The man was a gifted comic talent, and for many it wilol be his comedy work he shall be best remembed for. The following dialogue exchange is one of my all time favorites, from The Naked Gun: From the Files of Police Squad!

Mayor: Oh, and Drebin? I don't want any trouble like you had last year on the south side. Understand? That's my policy.

Frank:Yes, well when I see five weirdo's dressed in togas stabbing a guy in the middle of the park in full view of a hundred people, I shoot the bastards, that's my policy.

Mayor: That was a Shakespeare in the park production of "Julius Caesar" you moron! You killed five actors. Good ones!

Oh course, he was not always known as a comic actor, starting off in "serious" films and classics such as Forbidden Planet, the film that would go on to inspire the iconic Star Trek television series.

So over the next few days, put a classic film of Nielsen, sit back, and remember the man.

Man Made Monster (Waggner 1941)

2010-11-24T19:47:00.011-05:00

Earlier this year, I finally watched The Wolf Man, the 1941 horror classic from director George Waggner which featured Lon Chaney Jr. in the title role. While I had some reservations about the film as a whole, it was an ambitious and striking work, thematically complex and an interesting critique of the pressures of patriarchy and traditional conceptions of masculinity.

So when I heard that there was another film from the same year directed by George Waggner with Chaney Jr. in the lead, I was excited to say the least. Unfortunately, Man Made Monster is far from the heights set by The Wolf Man. Instead of a bold an ambitious film, Man Made Monster is a poorly conceived riff on the Frankenstein story, borrowing the broad strokes of the tale and “updating” it for the pre-atomic era. The end result is a film whose sole value is as a camp classic when viewed ironically.

Man Made Monster opens with a bus crash into an electricity tower, which kills five of the six passengers. The lone survivor is Dan McCormick (Chaney Jr.), a carnival showman who comes out completely unscathed despite the high amounts of electricity. This bit of luck attracts the attention of a leading scientist named Dr. Lawrence (Samuel S. Hinds), who working on a bio-electrical theory. Dr. Lawrence invites Dan into his home with the idea of studying Dan’s “immunity” to electricity, an offer Dan is more than happy to accept given that he is temporarily out of work. Dr. Lawrence’s colleague, Dr. Rigas (Lionel Atwill) however sees Dan as the perfect subject to test out his more extreme ideas about creating powerful electrically run beings, and sets about a clandestine set of experiments to transform Dan into one of his new electrical men

With a running time of only an hour, Man Made Monster moves at a rapid pace, and the film suffers as a result. The characterisation is rudimentary at best, with characters fitting into only the most basic of archetypes, if that. Only Chaney Jr. is given anything of real value to play in the film as Dan, the dim but loveable victim of Dr. Rigas. A scene late in the film where Dan is under psychological evaluation is given more effort from Chaney Jr. than the scene deserves, managing to bring out some legitimate pathos out of the proceedings. Atwill unfortunately does not fare near as well, with his mad scientist character existing as little more than a plot device designed to deliver poorly written exposition and even worse villainous monologues.

Blame for the shoddy writing falls on the shoulders of George Waggner himself, who wrote the film under the alias of Joseph West. While Waggner does manage to fare better in his direction of the film, Waggner the writer manages to undermine Waggner the director at numerous points thanks to the endless exposition. All too often, particularly in the final third of the film, characters stand about and deliver said exposition while watching events that we the audience are never made privy to, or even in scenes that audience is allowed to see. During the film’s climax, various characters stand around and describe what the monstrous Dan is doing rather than actually doing anything to help the situation, even though they are the characters who are supposed to be intervening.

Man Made Monster does have its charms however, a few of them legitimate. From time to time, Waggner does manage to creating some striking imagery, particularly during a montage scene showing the passage of time leading to a character’s execution date. The effects utilized to realize Dan in his monstrous state are effective, and the film does manage to have a bit of fun mocking psychoanalysis in a manner Alfred Hitchcock would have loved. However, the film is more memorable for its unintended humour, from the laughably bad science (electrical immunity? Really?) to what is perhaps one of the worst “man was not meant to play God” speeches I have heard in quite some time.

As a film likely made to fulfill a production quota, Man Made Monster is hardly the worst film to come out of the Classic Hollywood era. It is however a below average genre piece that would have been a welcome target for mockery on Mystery Science Theater 3000. While hard core genre fans will likely want to see the film, anyone else interested in seeing a science gone wrong film would be best to look elsewhere.

Silent Running (Trumbull 1972)

2010-11-19T21:17:00.004-05:00

Science fiction with an environmental theme has a dodgy track record to say the least, thanks to the fact that the issue is a politically heated one. At the best of times, you end up with films such as Wall E or Dune where the environmental commentary is present without being preachy. At the worst of times, such films are fire and brimstone sermons designed to guilt trip the audience, with the pertinent issues presented in only the most black and white of terms (see: Avatar). Most of the time, we end up with middling films or entertaining embarrassments, such as Waterworld.

So thank God for Douglas Trumbull’s 1972 science fiction mini-classic Silent Running, an environmentally themed film that forgoes being didactic in favour of being a psychological drama in which the loss of nature is symbolic for a loss of humanity. While flawed and occasionally heavy handed, the film is a complex work, with striking imagery and ideas which are held together by a magnificent performance from star Bruce Dern (The ‘Burbs).

Silent Running concerns Freeman Lowell (Dern), a crewmember aboard the spaceship Valley Forge, who maintains the last remaining forests of Earth. Valley Forge also is the home of three other crewmembers, none who hold Lowell’s personal investment in preserving the forests, and are more interested in going home after 8 years in space. Having to wait until they are recalled, these three pass their time performing their jobs, lounging about, and giving Lowell grief.

This early section of the film, with its blatant Eden imagery of Lowell as a Space Age Adam, are disheartening to say the least, and leave the impression that the rest of the film to follow will be full of righteous anger and nothing else. This is only confirmed further as we are presented with several moments in which Lowell preaches to the rest of the crew about how oblivious they are to the importance of the forests, both for the spirit of mankind as well as basic survival. It is seemingly all designed to be a quick shortcut to getting the audience on Lowell’s side: he is the outsider; the other crew members treat him with contempt; and they openly wreck havoc on Lowell’s forests.

So when the orders come to destroy the forests, it is no surprise that Lowell makes a stand against the rest of the crew. At this point, it would be fair to guess that the film would follow a fairly predictable path, with Lowell courageously bucking orders by engaging in a battle of wits between himself and the crew for the rest of film. Lowell perhaps might even die in a noble, if tragic, fashion at the film’s conclusion.

Instead, Lowell kills the rest of the crew in a matter of minutes, transforming the Space Adam into Space Cain. Like Cain, Lowell becomes literally and figuratively disconnected from humanity, drifting away through space in an effort to protect his Eden and hide his crimes. And, much like Cain, Lowell discovers that his ability to preserve the forests is compromised, he is unable to solve why the last forest is dying.

This fusion of Biblical narrative, environmentalism and character study give Silent Running a surprising power, both emotionally and intellectually. Lowell’s journey is epic and mythic whilst retaining the crushing ambiguities of life, and the film provides no easy answers to the questions it raises concerning dehumanisation and the destruction of the environment. Instead, director Turnbull simply captures the weight and frustrations of the issues, refusing to allow his work to be interpreted in any one, narrow manner by providing us a future that is neither a utopia or dystopia, nor providing us a character that is strictly a saint or sinner. The film even goes as far to note that human kind on Earth has managed to survive without the forests, and that disease and poverty have been eliminated. Given this, Lowell's attitudes about the preservation of the forest are brought into question. This will likely anger the extremists on both sides of the environment debate, but for everyone else provide an engaging experience in working out the complexities of the narrative.

As noted, the film is a showcase for star Dern, who carries the film for more than two thirds by himself. Dern walks a fine line with the role, balancing the character’s arrogance and obsessive tendencies with a fragile vulnerability, and he manages to pull it off successfully. Perhaps no bigger testament to Dern’s abilities as an actor can be found than a farewell speech he delivers to one of the ships drones, which is given enough sincerity and commitment as to make the scene one of the most touching in the film, despite the fact that he is talking to what looks like a dumpster pail.

Director Turnbull, who made his directorial debut with this film, is clearly hamstrung by the film’s low budget and his own lack of experience as a director: the exterior shots of the ship are clearly models, and at times it appears as if he was unsure how to stage a scene that does not involve special effects. For the most part however, Turnbull makes the most of his limitations and captures an appropriately cold and contemplative atmosphere, allowing Lowell to be visually dominated by the environment around him, just as Lowell is emotionally and intellectually caught between past, present, and future.

The film does feature a few significant flaws though. While I hate it when films are labelled “dated,” as if it is a real criticism of a work (all films date. All things date, so why hold that against them?), the film features songs clearly written in the dying days of the counter culture movement. This would not be bad if it were not for the fact that the songs are dreadful, and engage in the type of heavy handedness avoided or critiqued in the rest of the film. While these songs are mostly kept to the clunky montage sequences, they stand out as a particular problem in the film’s final moments, as the most striking image of the film is almost undermined by the overly sentimental song playing on the soundtrack, making the image nearly laughable rather than poetic.

That final shot however is a powerful one, and encompasses the film's themes and ambiguities perfectly. While I do not wish to spoil the film’s conclusion, I would like to ask the following questions to consider after watching: how long can Lowell’s solution last? And more importantly, if it can last, what does this final shot say about the place of humanity in the future?

Season of the Witch Trailer

2010-11-15T10:31:00.003-05:00

I want to believe that this will be good. I really do. But I am not sure I trust modern Hollywood to do period horror right. Plus, Nicolas Cage has this thing about appearing in films that sound cool, but end up being garbage.

Still, the trailer is somewhat promising. And any film with Christopher Lee is worth checking out. I just hope that director Dominic Sena is capable of making a film as solid as Kalifornia (1993), his debut film, rather than Gone in Sixty Seconds (2000) his last film with Nic Cage.

Back with reviews later this week. Yes, Plural.

RED (Schwentke 2010)

2010-11-08T00:14:00.004-05:00

While RED (Schwentke 2010) may not be a revenge film in terms of its narrative and genre, the film none-the-less offers a revenge fantasy for baby boom audience members faced with marginalization as Generation X and beyond come into power economically and politically. RED’s plot, about a group of retired CIA agents banding together to fight back against their old employer who is looking to execute them, takes every available opportunity to allow its protagonists to beat down their successors, demonstrate sexual vitality and simply prove that they are not too old live like the young. As a card carrying member of Generation Y/Next/Echo Boom/whatever-you-want-to-call-us, my reaction to RED is quite simple:

It is a hell of a fun little film.

Now, that does not mean that RED is a great film, or some sort of classic in the action genre. It is not. Nor is it necessarily better than its comic source material, a three issue mini-series by the legendary Warren Ellis. I have yet to read the series, so I cannot comment. What RED is however is a slick little piece of popcorn entertainment that would have been nice to have had available during this past summer, in order to relieve audiences of all the garbage that the studios tried to pass off as fun films (with the obvious exceptions of the great Inception and Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World). RED is a film without any preconceptions of greatness: it knows is strengths and limitations with regards to the material, and the filmmakers do their best to liven up the stock characters and situations with sharper than expected writing, directing and acting.

While director Robert Schwentke’s work thus far has been rather undistinguished, with credits on films such as Flightplan (2005) and The Time Traveler’s Wife (2009), he brings a steady hand to RED, working from a script by Jon and Erich Hoeber (Whiteout). Schwentke seems to know that the best approach to the material is to simply allow the cast to carry the film and get out of their way. There are no auteur or wannabe-auteur attempts made in the film: Schwentke’s direction primarily consists of keeping the film energetic and moving a good clip, and it works. More importantly, Schwentke keeps the film relatively grounded, allowing for moments of comic action absurdity that are fantastic without turning the film into an outright fantasy of superhuman beings.

Carrying most of the film’s weight however is the cast, which provide uniformly excellent work. Lead star Bruce Willis, who earlier this year was underserved by the sub par script and direction of the buddy comedy Cop Out, gets to really flex his comedic muscles here as Frank Moses. Willis plays the role in a surprisingly vulnerable manner, downplaying the supposed “badass” coolness of Frank and instead plays up the character’s awkwardness with average life and relationships. This of course is helped in no small way by Mary-Louise Parker as Sarah, Frank’s possible romantic flame who comes to rather enjoy the dangerous situation she finds herself in. While Parker’s character is unfortunately saddled with the damsel in distress role at a certain point in the film, Parker makes the most of every scene she is in, brining a sense of spunk and joy to a character that could easily have been phoned in.

The film’s supporting cast is equally worthy of mention. Morgan Freeman and John Malkovich are given somewhat thin characters to work with, with Freeman particularly stuck playing a variation on the wise-old-man role. Both are clearly having fun onscreen however, and it is infectious. Malkovich in particular eats up every odd quirk he is given to play as Marvin, the paranoid and childlike ex-CIA agent who spent years being the subject of LSD experiments. The sight of a sad Marvin holding a stuffed pig by the tail is one of RED’s highlights, and Malkovich is given plenty of similar scene stealing moments throughout. Karl Urban as the young but not naïve agent tracking Moses is stuck playing straight man to pretty much everyone else in the film, but he once again proves that he has the charisma to be great leading man if he can ever score the right role to take him to the A-list.

However, RED’s best weapon is the duo of Helen Mirren and Brian Cox, as romantically involved agents from opposite sides of the long over Cold War. The pair’s subplot romance is almost a delightful romantic comedy onto itself, particularly in the final act of the film as the band of heroes put their final plan in motion. By this point, Cox’s character of Ivan Simanov seems vastly less interested in the grandiose nature of Frank’s plan than he is in pursuing Mirren’s Victoria with as much smooth charm as possible. Mirren meanwhile appears to relish the opportunity she has to play the most badass member of Moses’ crew, finding ways to blend flirtatious and motherly types of behaviour with the stone cold professionalism. Combined with the fact that Mirren and Cox have great chemistry, I simply would have loved for the whole film to be nothing more than a charting of their peculiar romance over the decades. A spin off film perhaps?

By the time RED comes to a close, there will likely be members of the audience saying that the filmmakers could easily have made a more substantive film dealing with the issues of an aging population and its rivalry with its offspring, and they would not be wrong. Others will likely be complaining that the film moves far away from leaner and meaner premise of Warren Ellis’ original comic. Again, I have not read the comics, though its reviews online point to it being a massively different work, and a fascinating one. Again, such complaints would not be wrong. However, both criticisms would seem to miss the fun to be had with RED, particularly given the lack of action films focused on older characters in modern filmmaking. Besides which, the film simply succeeds at what it sets out to do.

Fans of Ellis’ original comics can take one little bit of solace when it comes to the film: at least RED is not as disappointing as The Losers. Or as bad as Jonah Hex. Those are fans who really have something to complain about.

New Review Tomorrow

2010-11-07T11:55:00.002-05:00

Tomorrow shall bring the review of the 2010 action comedy RED.

Autistic Speaking Day Today!

2010-11-01T12:25:00.003-04:00

Hello everyone!

While I am not myself autistic, I have many friends who are, and it is important that they are heard. Please check out No Stereotypes Here for more information, and please take time to listen to the experiences of people on the spectrum!

Also check out the following post: http://humainsvolants.blogspot.com/2010/11/autistics-speaking-day-jour-de-parole.html

The Hound of the Baskervilles (Morrissey 1978)

2010-10-28T13:19:00.008-04:00

As Paul Morrissey’s 1978 comic adaptation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Hound of the Baskervilles comes to a close, the pianist (Dudley Moore, Arthur) who opened the film and played the score throughout is booed off the stage and pelted with fruit. As Moore leaves the stage, a charming grin crosses his face that almost makes me want to be more positive towards the film. Almost.

On paper, The Hound of the Baskervilles sounds like a sure fire hit: a comic parody of arguably the most famous (and perhaps most filmed) Sherlock Holmes story with the great comic duo of Peter Cook and Dudley Moore as Holmes and Dr. Watson respectively, backed by a cast of some of the best British character actors available. The actual film however is major miss fire which, while still providing a number of laughs, seems to have been written with little actual interest in parodying the supposed source material. What we end up with instead is a series of sketches loosely connected by the mystery of a seemingly supernatural dog that prowls the Baskerville estate.

The film begins promisingly enough with an pre-credits sequence involving Holmes and Watson being visited by three nuns desperately wishing to know the whereabouts of a missing relic. The sequence sets a crass tone with a tired, slightly degenerate Holmes and a bafflingly idiotic-yet-enthusiastic Watson displaying little of the class and sophistication of earlier interpretations. Everything is played broad, with Sherlock displaying simplistic logic and Watson no logic at all, but given that this is Peter Cook and Dudley Moore before the 1980s, it is to be expected. More importantly, the material is mostly funny, with Moore and Cook in fine form as they play off of one another.

Things continue to look upward as the main mystery is introduced with Dr. Mortimer (Terry-Thomas) requesting the help of Sherlock, only to be stuck with Watson. Once Watson arrives at the Baskerville estate though, the film begins to go off the rails as the central mystery takes a backseat to scenes that are closer to unfocused sketches, featuring increasing amounts of gross out humour. While Moore and Cook’s involvement was pretty much a guarantee that the film was never going to be aiming for the more sophisticated humour of Billy Wilder’s The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes (1970), endlessly urinating dogs go a bit too far in the opposite direction. The film bares more than a passing resemblance to the chaotic and scatological humour of Mike Meyer’s Austin Power sequels, and while some of the gags work, more often than not they fall flat.

The resemblance to the mixed bag sequels to Austin Powers is furthered by the film’s increasingly unfocused targets for comedy The film takes a surprisingly lengthy jab at The Exorcist that tries to hard, while a bizarre subplot involving mediums, Sherlock Holmes’ mother, and a Kentucky Fried Chicken joke only work to give the impression that no one involved with the film was particularly familiar with Doyle’s creation. Again, I will be the first to admit some of the jokes work, but in a parody of such rich material, the whole endeavour comes across like a waste. If Moore and Cook were interested in doing a series of gross out gags, why bother with “The Hound of the Baskervilles” at all? An original scenario would have invited less expectations on the part of the audience, and freed the film up to take as many pot shots at other works as Moore and Cook would have liked.

When the film does work however, it works marvellously. While the subplot of Holmes’ time alone in London eventually falls apart, the early sections involving Holmes attempting to relax at a brothel manages to generate a substantial number of laughs. Better yet are some of the film’s visual gags, including Holmes reading a book titled “Guilt Without Sex” and a scene involving the sending of a Morse Code signal. And while Moore’s portrayal of Watson as an idiot Welshman likely borders on being offensive, his interaction with Kenneth Williams’ equally idiotic (and borderline offensive) “young” Henry Baskerville often manages to overcome the obviousness of the material.

The best laugh tied to The Hound of the Baskervilles is not too be found in the film itself however, but in the film’s trailer. Playing off of the traditional trailer hyperbole for an actor’s performance and the manner in which the performers of John Watson historically tend to be ignored, the trailer’s narrator announces that “Peter Cook is unforgettable as Sherlock Holmes! Dudley Moore is forgettable as, um, what’s his name?” It is a gag that shows a keen understanding of the screen history of Holmes and Watson, an understanding that would have been nice in the film proper.

The Future Of Horror: Where It Stands and How We Can Change It.

2010-10-26T15:53:00.002-04:00

My plan had been too produce enough reviews to last all of October for Halloween, but between real life work needing more attention, and watching a number of non-horror related films, my headspace has been in another place altogether. I still have been enjoying plenty of horror films as of late, and there are three films that I feel I have something to say about, but I honestly feel I need to get my head elsewhere before tackling those reviews.

However, I don’t want to turn my back on horror films just yet, as there is one topic I feel compelled to write about for sure: the state of the modern horror film. It is almost needless to say, but the last decade has been abysmal for the horror genre, thanks to the endless remakes, sequels, and just plain watered-down fare that has been offered to audiences. Yes, a number of at ambitious, interesting and/or legitimately great films were produced between 2000 and 2009, but more often than not these films were buried with small theatrical releases, or simply sent straight to video where they were unlikely to find a wider audience outside of the horror hard-core. Meanwhile, mainstream junk such as the infamous Saw series, which began in 2004 and seems likely to run until doomsday, has been sucking up theatre screens and production funds from more deserving projects.

While the obvious reason for the down spiral of horror films is the eternal quest to maximize box office revenues, less direct reasons have also been offered, from the all too real horror of September 11th, 2001 reducing the power of the horror film to scare an already terrified audience, to cultural shifts in which the monster has become seen as something to be rehabilitated rather than feared. Certainly, both of these arguments have merit, the latter being evidenced by the existence of the God awful Twilight Saga. More dubious arguments have been made for a desensitised audience, though the unsettling (and outright disgusting) premises of A Serbian Film and The Human Centipede do make it hard to dismiss such claims entirely.

If we were to stop here, the immediate future of the horror film would look fairly bleak, with fans trapped between middling fair and films that are little more than journeys into human degradation with little (or no) artistic merit. Frankly, I find either option too bleak for my tastes. While there is little doubt that current trends will likely continue for some time yet, I feel that there is hope on the horizon for our beloved genre, especially if we (both audience members and filmmakers) can galvanize our support behind certain trends and projects currently on the move.

One of horror’s main obstacles of the past few years has been that the genre has been too cheap to produce whilst also being too expensive. While that statement may sound like a contradiction, it really is not. Horror films have always been rather cheap to make, which has allowed a gluttony of horror films to be produced and flood the direct to video selves at your local video stores and big chain retailers. For every Paranormal Activity, there are several gimmicky slasher films that only exist to reinforce the idea that horror is a low aiming, money grabbing genre. One of the most disheartening things I witnessed this Halloween season were just how many recent straight to video slasher films dominated the Halloween bins. While vampires and zombies may be over exposed at the moment, the twisted-serial-killer-with-a-theme monster has gone well beyond being tired. Such films need to cease being supported at both the production and at consumer ends of the spectrum, and higher aiming efforts supported.

Meanwhile, high budget Hollywood productions are tossing way too much money at making the same low budget films into large, glossy productions, a sheen that harms a film more often than it helps. While the low budget equivalents may be purely exploitative and tacky, their low budgets can also often allow for a rough and tumble energy that the big budget films lack. Large CGI spectacles rarely ever scare, and when your casts look like a group of models with perfectly made up hair, many of us cease to believe in the horror universe being attempted. For example, last I checked high school students tend to look like rather awkward kids (which is exactly what they are), not 28 year old underwear models.

Speaking of teenagers, here is another little thing we might want to collectively consider: teenagers are rarely that interesting. Yes, I know most the audience these days is twenty and under, but frankly adults are far more interesting to follow because they have a little something called life experience. Just look at the more successful horror films of the past few years: Paranormal Activity focused on a young couple, while The Last Exorcism dealt with a middle aged man with a family. Both films focus on adults with compelling histories, with adult concerns, concerns which are all the more open for transformation into horror stories. On a more practical level, adult characters simply allow for more experienced actors to take center stage, rather than placing the weight of an entire film on the shoulders of an early twenty-something who is still developing a sense of their craft. Yes, great young actors exist, but be honest, when your cast of characters is mostly made up of teenage characters, it is unlikely that the entire cast is going to be made up of top notch, or even merely adequate, actors.

Lastly, and this one is for Hollywood executives in particular, do not be afraid of the large scale horror film. While I may have earlier called for lowering the spending on low aiming slasher films, there are plenty of horror films in need of a real budget and A-level talent, talent which is ready and waiting to work on such films. Right now, myself and many other horror geeks have our hopes set on Guillermo Del Toro’s adaptation of At the Mountains of Madness, a film that might just be the most ambitious horror film of the past twenty years. Del Toro has been fighting almost single-handedly to raise the bar for horror films, and a project such as this holds the possibility of opening up a whole new era of horror filmmaking if it hits. But it is going to require a level of support that are usually granted to big budget superhero films and other blockbusters.

And it will be up to us as horror fans to make sure that such a risk is justified. If we do not get out and support this kind of ambition, then we can kiss away a bright future for this genre. We need to be smart in what we choose to support, just as we ask studios to be smart with where we spend their money. I believe that we can do, and I hope that you join me in this effort.

New Review Wednesday...Come Hell or High Water

2010-10-25T14:05:00.001-04:00

As the title says.

(Ultra) Quick Reviews

2010-10-19T14:05:00.002-04:00

Man, Life doesn't always want to cooperate now, does it?

As such, I have to delay the next review AGAIN, but to fill the gap, here are some mini reviews to fill the time.

I Sell the Dead - It is a fun film, with some genre vets to help the proceedings, but the narrative is too predictable, and the structure too loose, allowing the film to drag even with its already short running time.

Ghidorah, The Three-Headed Monster - Its a giant monster film, and a fun one at that. If you love giant monsters, you'll dig it, if you don't, this won't change your mind.

Halloween II - the original one, not the sequel to the Rob Zombie remake. It is pretty bad, and doesn't make any sense, but there is some fun to be had with an over the top performance from Donald Pleasence.

Update on the Update

2010-10-17T22:13:00.001-04:00

Sorry, but review has to be delayed till Tuesday due to real life reasons.

Update

2010-10-16T18:56:00.002-04:00

New review will be up Monday, and one hopefully following on Tuesday if all works out.

The Blob (Russell 1988)

2010-10-13T20:35:00.005-04:00

Years ago, I watched the original 1958 version of The Blob (Yeaworth), which features Steve McQueen as a teenager in a town where a mysterious alien substance has landed is consuming townsfolk. The film was entertaining, but I did not remember much about it afterwards, a point which has not improved with time.

As such, it is pretty much impossible to make any comparison between the original film and director Chuck Russell’s 1988 remake of The Blob, which was co-written by Russell (The Mask) with Frank Darabont (The Green Mile). I doubt any stronger familiarity would either help or hinder Russell’s film though, because the 1988 version is a straightforward update of the 1950s era B-movies, paying homage to the past with a slicker (and gorier) production typical of the 1980s. The end result is a vapid-but-fun affair that seeks to do nothing more than to find the most inventive ways to see the title substance wipe out town folk and government spooks alike.

As in the original, a mysterious substance lands in a small town, and proceeds to spread across the hand of a homeless man. This event is witness by a group of teenagers, including rebel Brian (Kevin Dillon) and cheerleader Meg (Shawnee Smith) who take the man to a hospital. When the blob starts to move about and graphically consume its victims, the teens are not believed at first by authorities, until a group of government scientists lead by Dr. Meddows (Joe Seneca) arrive to deal with the situation. Meddows knows more than he is telling, and when the truth comes out, it is up to Brian and Meg to save the day.

With a film like The Blob, the degree to which the film works is measurable only by the amount of energy an enthusiasm brought to the film by the filmmakers. Luckily for audiences, Russell and Darabont’s love for classic science fiction horror cinema is on full display in the film as they find a way to bridge the culture gap between the 1950s and 1980s. As with their contemporaries Steven Spielberg and George Lucas, Russell and Darabont display a nostalgic love of 1950s America, yet go a step further by injecting a sense of post-Watergate paranoia and cynicism into the film, starting with the titular monster.

(SPOILERS)

Unlike the original film, in which the mysterious substance came from space, the blob here is re-invented as an American biological weapon’s experiment gone wrong, with Dr. Meddows being more than willing to sacrifice the town in order to save their weapon. As such, the film becomes something of a mild commentary on the Cold War arms race, with the reaffirming of community values and commitment coming across as a longing for the mythic simplicity of America’s past, while understanding the need to remain vigilant for possible internal threats. Such longing is of course absurd, as the notion that life was ever simple is betrayed by history, but we are talking about a film with a giant purple substance eating people here. Besides, such political and ideological readings of the film give the impression that the film is more complex than it is.

(END SPOILERS)

While the monster may have changed since the 1950s, the reason the audience is watching any version of The Blob has not: the hope of being scared and dazzled by some hopefully solid special effects work. The film thankfully delivers on these fronts, with some clever jump scares and more than enough gory mayhem, from watching a would-be date rapist pay dearly, to a modern reinterpretation of the iconic theatre attack from the original film. The film is a practical effects fans dream, and acts as a reminder about why computer generated effects often lack the distinction and quality of something that can be shot for real.

Russell and Darabont do however remember to give attention to their characters at the same time thankfully. While the film is mostly populated by stock types, the characters are written and cast well enough that they are fleshed out more than is typical of this type of film, from a smarter than average sheriff (Jeffery DeMunn) to Kevin Dillon’s rebel who is more James Dean than Steve McQueen. Also, genre vets Paul McCrane (Robocop), Candy Clark (The Man Who Fell to Earth) and even Bill Moseley (TheTexas Chainsaw Massacre, Part 2) are on hand to give the film a bit of charm.

Of course, none of this changes the fact that The Blob is a completely disposable film, and a minor work for all involved. Moreover, for those seeking a little substance with their horror, the film will fall completely flat and likely leave them annoyed, as a more interesting concept for the never realized sequel is teased at the film’s conclusion. However, for those looking for a fun little horror film, The Blob is worth checking out, particularly given that you will likely find the film for around five dollars. There are worse ways to spend your money.

House (Miner 1986)

2010-10-12T00:28:00.012-04:00

Without question, Steve Miner’s House (1986) is nothing short of being pure fun. There is such a giddy joy to the film, that it is hard not to get sucked into it and have a blast as we watch Roger Cobb (William Katt) struggle with the insanity in his life.

The problem is, I’m not sure the film should really have been a horror comedy.

The premise of House concerns Cobb, a horror writer stuck in a slump, moving back into the possibly haunted house he grew up in after his aunt commits suicide. Cobb however has been having a rough time even outside his writing career: his young son has disappeared without a trace, his actress wife has divorced him in the fallout, and he feels compelled to write about his Vietnam War experience at a time when nobody wants to read about the war. Cobb returns to the house in order to get a productive solitude to work in, but finds that the neighbours are less than helpful in this regard. Well, the neighbours, and the presence that really is haunting the house. Can Cobb figure out why the house is being haunted, or will he be driven beyond madness first?

The story of the film could have made for an interesting and thoughtful horror film, and from the material available about the film’s production, this appears to have been what the original intention was on the part of Fred Dekker, who wrote the original story. For the first fifteen minutes of the film, the audience is lead to believe this is the direction the film is going, with slight moments of black comedy. The rest of the film which follows however heads into outright comedy territory, punctuated by monsters and ghoulish imagery.

Now, I love horror comedies, with Shaun of the Dead is one of my all time favourite films, and I love comedy that is pitch black. However, black comedy and horror comedy both require a particular approach and tone that needs to be carefully walked to work overall. In the case of Shaun of the Dead, as funny as the film is, it is grounded in a very real sense of emotional distress and pain, a distress and pain which gives both the horror and the comedy weight. The ‘Burbs, Joe Dante’s classic that House most closely resembles in tone, is a straight up assault and parody of suburban culture and paranoia. The ’Burbs never asks the viewer to invest in the characters so much as it asks us to recognize the underlining truths buried below the insanity of the characters and situations presented.

The problem with House is that the film never manages to settle on either approach to the material. The film begins by asking us as viewers to invest in the pain of Richard Cobb, pain that is pretty understandable. When we flashback to the disappearance of Cobb’s son, it is played straight and we are allowed to witness the suffering of both Cobb and his wife; when we see Cobb return home to his empty apartment and put up a sad display over the phone to convince his ex-wife he is alright, we feel sympathy, if not empathy, for the man. That Cobb is able to be as grounded and stable as he is given his experiences is astounding, and gives his character a quite sense of heroism that is appealing and perfectly sold by Katt’s performance.

After Cobb moves into the house however, the film increasingly moves away from any sense of emotional grounding. Instead, the film turns into a deranged sitcom, with episodic situations that have hints of horror below the comedy. How else can you describe a scene in which Cobb has baby sitting duties thrust upon him whilst fighting with the dismembered parts of a demon? It is funny and enjoyable, but at the same time, the reality of the earlier portion of the film is missed. By the time the film reaches its climax and the issues of Vietnam and Cobb’s missing child come together, all of the initial emotional investment made by the viewer is long gone, and the answers to Cobb’s problems come all too easy. The film is stuck somewhere between the polar extremes of what it could have been, and in attempting both, the film ends up a diluted and middling experience.

These problems clearly rest on the shoulders of director Miner, who never seems to be able to settle on a tone and style. The material to make the film work is clearly in the script, but Miner’s direction seems to be aping various directors with little rhyme or reason. At one moment, he is evocative of classic Spielberg; at another, Joe Dante, while later still he is suddenly attempting Sam Raimi. Blending different tones together into a unified whole is a tough trick to be pulled off, and while I give Miner credit for trying, it does not change the fact that he ultimately fails.

(MAJOR SPOILERS)

The element that is perhaps most indicative of Miner’s awkward direction is the miscasting of Richard Moll in the role of Big Ben, the demon and ex-Vietnam platoon member that is haunting Cobb. While Moll’s voice and stature are imposing, his performance here is so over the top that at no point does Ben seem like a credible threat. Even in the Vietnam flashbacks, Moll mugs his way through his scenes, never coming across as anything remotely close to human. As such, when Ben returns as a rotting corpse/spirit/whatever, we never are given a reason to doubt that Cobb will come through.

(SPOILERS END)

At the end of the day, I cannot wholeheartedly recommend seeing House, when there are so many more worthwhile horror films to check out. However, I cannot also recommend avoiding the film either, as it has elements that are certainly worth seeing. Consider the film a Saturday afternoon movie: it is not bad if there is nothing else on, but nothing worth staying home for if you have more important (or fun) things to do.

Superman/Batman: Apocalypse (Montgomery 2010)

2010-10-09T03:14:00.009-04:00

(NOTE: this is just a small break from my Halloween Horror set of reviews. The latest review in that series is Bride of Re-Animator which was published yesterday)

For the first fifteen minutes, I thought that the filmmakers of the DC Universe Animated films had finally cracked the problems of their preceding efforts and were going to deliver an unqualified success in Superman/Batman: Apocalypse (Montgomery 2010). Those fifteen minutes are tense, atmospheric and present an interesting setup for a feature film, with the best design work and animation thus far in the series of films. Those fifteen minutes feel epic.

Then the rest of the damn film happens.

Ok, to be fair, the film is pretty epic throughout, the design and animation are the best the series has produced, and Lauren Montgomery’s direction is nothing short of fantastic. But after the first fifteen minutes, a series of massive missteps are made from which the film is unable to recover from, and the end result sets a whole new low for the DC Animated films.

I’m getting ahead of myself though. Superman/Batman: Apocalypse is a direct sequel to Superman/Batman: Public Enemies (Liu 2009), and begins with a meteor crash in Gotham City. Batman (Kevin Conroy) discovers a ship at the heart of the crash, containing Kara (Summer Glau), Superman’s (Tim Daley) cousin. As Kara is suffering from memory loss and lacks control of her powers, she finds herself at the heart of a disagreement between Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman (Susan Eisenberg) over how to best train and protect her. However, things become even more complicated as Darkseid (Adrian Braugher), ruler of the planet Apocalypse, sets his sights on Kara to as the new leader of his army, and proceeds to kidnap her. Will the combined might of Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman be enough to rescue Kara, and even if it is, will Kara even wish to be rescued?

So just how does the most promising of the DC films go wrong? As with the grand majority of films, it comes down to the script, provided here by Tab Murphy (Brother Bear, of all things), and the downfall specifically begins with a scene in Metropolis park. The scene in question involves Clark and Kara being attacked by a mysterious group we assume work for Darkseid. As we soon discover after a lengthy and destructive battle though, the attackers belong to Wonder Woman and Batman, who wish to take Kara to Paradise Island have her train amongst the Amazon Warriors.

Now, allow me to try and break down the levels of idiocy in the scene. First, as is clearly indicated in the film, Superman and Wonder Woman have known and worked with each other for years. Given this, one would assume that Wonder Woman would likely TALK TO CLARK about the issue of Kara’s lack of control over her powers, and offer to help Kara by providing training in a safe environment. Instead, we are asked to accept that Wonder Woman and Batman would jump Clark and his cousin, for the purposes of either A) kidnapping Kara or B) making a point of how out of control Kara is by forcing her to cause property damage after being overwhelmed by attackers. The reason I list two options is because the goal of the attack is never made terribly clear, but both options are idiotic and are completely out of character for both Wonder Woman and Batman. This problem is only compounded by the issue of the property damage caused in the attack, which is extensive, pointless, and comes soon after Batman complains about Kara destroying fifty thousand dollars worth of his equipment by accident. So, Batman does not care about any property that isn't his own? Oh, and don't forget that innocent people could have wandered into the park at any time during this fight, and have been injured/killed. Good work Batman and Wonder Woman.

What really makes this scene so unbelievably moronic however is that we discover shortly thereafter that the reason for Wonder Woman and Batman’s concern is that Lyla, a trusted woman on Themyscira, is having visions of what appears to be Kara’s death. So again, I ask this question: WHY ON EARTH DID WONDER WOMAN NOT SIMPLY GO TALK TO SUPERMAN ABOUT THIS? This is not a simple slip up in logic, but rather a completely idiotic scene that does much to damage the characters and the idea of them as heroic leaders amongst the rest of the DC Universe.

The rest of the film follows an equally aggravating pattern of jumping between excellent scenes and concepts to moments of mind numbing stupidity. Here is another wonderful example: after Kara is kidnapped from Themyscira, Batman, Wonder Woman and Superman decide to head to the extremely dangerous Apocalypse in order to confront Darkseid and get Kara back. Now, Wonder Woman is clearly shown to have an army of Amazon Warriors at her beck and call, so I ask, why did they not take at least a small platoon with them to Apocalypse? Given that they are warriors, and that Darkseid’s attack on the island left at least one resident dead, you would think that they would be up for the action, but apparently not. Our how about the likely crippling mental trauma caused by Darkseid’s programming of Kara? At no point does any character even address the possibility that Kara will need help recovering from her mental abuse (and yes, that is exactly what it is).

The film suffers from other writing problems as well, including haphazard and episodic plotting, fake out endings with cheap horror film jump shocks that fail to shock, and repetitious dialogue exchanges about choice and control over ones life. Hell, in the span of roughly seven minutes, we see Darkseid deliver a speech about what Kara’s life could have been with him twice. All I could think of by the time the film was over was how such a shoddy piece of writing made it through with Bruce Timm at the helm as producer. While some of the past films in the series have been below par, there is nothing remotely close to the lapses in basic storytelling logic present here. Even the problematic Superman/Batman: Public Enemies was more or less an issue of simplistic screenwriting rather than outright awful screenwriting.

What makes this all the more infuriating is that there are moments in this film that are so good that you almost want to will yourself to ignore the massive problems with the film as a whole. There are small moments of comedy that are just hysterical, including a scene in which Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman drop by a normal neighbourhood seeking a specific individual's help, and the stunned neighbours do their best to look in on the bizarre sight of the three heroes in a domestic setting. Funnier still is the reactions of Ma and Pa Kent to the state of their farm at the film’s conclusion. And the fight sequences are, hands down, the best ever done in a Bruce Timm produced work. All these bright moments however merely serve to highlight the bafflingly awful storytelling on display in the film.

Without question, Superman/Batman: Apocalypse is the worst film to be produced thus far in the series of DC Animated films, and is utterly discouraging for what we have to look forward to with the adaptations of the acclaimed stories Batman: Year One and All Star Superman. The only, and I do mean ONLY, reason to even consider purchasing the disc is for the DC Showcase: Green Lantern short, which is nothing short of excellent. However, seeing as there is a disc that will collect all the of the DC Showcase shorts soon, it is best to keep it in mind before making that the deciding factor in purchasing Superman/Batman: Apocalypse.

Bride of Re-Animator (Yuzna 1990)

2010-10-08T18:42:00.009-04:00

If there is one set of themes that tends to recur in horror films above all others, its sex and sexual orientation. In classic horror films, it often appeared as subtext; in more recent horror, it has often become rather blatant. Just this month, I reviewed Dracula’s Daughter (Hillyer 1936), in which the vampirism of the title character has more than a hint of homoerotic overtones, and I am sure before this month is over I will come upon a few more films in which sex and sexuality will be addressed, be it through metaphor, allegory, and/or direct discussion.

Of course, when it comes to the presence of sexual orientation issues in horror films, more often than not the films tend to be regressive and conservative in their presentations and explorations. Yes, there are plenty of films that are more progressive in discussing (an exploiting) sexuality, and the complex processes of viewer reception and identification provide a multitude of readings of even the most regressive of these films. I still believe however that it is more than fair to say that many horror films tend to try and reinforce the simplistic and wrongheaded notion of “homosexuality bad, heterosexuality good…and normal!” So thank God for the flawed-but-compelling Bride of Re-Animator (1990), Brian Yuzna’s straight to video sequel to Stuart Gordon’s 1985 classic Re-Animator. As the title indicates, Bride of Re-Animator riffs on the themes and concepts of the playful and complex Bride of Frankenstein (Whale 1935), a film which itself expanded and subverted the themes and concepts presented in its famed predecessor. In Bride of Re-Animator, Yuzna has crafted a film in which presents almost all forms of sexuality as confused, dangerous, and destructive, with the “salvation“ from these destructive relationships and impulsive coming from an unlikely source. Oh, and the film is a darkly funny and fun blast as well.

Bride of Re-Animator picks up months after the events of the original film, with Dr. Herbert West (Jeffery Combs) and Dr. Dan Cain (Bruce Abbott) making the most out of the dead bodies piling up in a Peruvian civil war. Forced back the city of Arkham in the United States as the war becomes too dangerous for them, they resume acting as Doctors at the Miskatonic University. West’s obsession with reanimating dead tissue takes on a new dimension when he decides that he can make a new life out of separate body parts, and to ensure Cain’s assistance in this new endeavour, West proposes a particular project for them to work on: creating a woman out of the heart of Dean’s lost love Meg. Things become tricky for West and Cain however as a police Lieutenant (Claude Earl Jones) intrudes in on their lives, a friend from Peru, Francesca (Fabiana Udenio, of Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery [1997] fame) shows up to romance Cain, and Dr. Graves (Mel Stewart) discovers a jar of the regenerate fluid, as well as the head of Dr. Carl Hill (David Gale).

The key to the film’s exploration of sexuality is the character of Dan Cain, whose romantic desires are, to say the least, confused. Dan in this film is defined by three key relationships, first and foremost among them his lost love Meg, who died in the previous film. For Dan, his love of Meg is an obsession with death itself, and when the notion of creating a woman out of the parts of others arises, his obsession takes on a further dimension of necrophilia. Heterosexual relationships thus become tied with death, and it is no coincidence that it is Dan’s desires that lead to most of the death and destruction in the film. This destructive side of heterosexuality is further supported in the “relationship” between Lt. Chapham and his re-animated wife, who spend most of the film attempting to kill one another (Chapham had already killed his wife in events preceding the film). This rebuilding of Meg thus becomes the crux of the relationship between Cain and West, and the attempt to create new life in the absence of women gives this relationship shades of a homosexuality (I say shades, because West has a distinctly asexual streak to him as well, though I shall get into that further on). When Dan early on tries to break off his work with West and leave their home, the scene is shot and performed in a manner evocative of quarrelling lovers, raging at each other one moment and speaking tenderly another about creating a new life. Granted, its new life being built out of dead body parts, but the point stands. Even their living arraignment, a home for the two of them out in the cemetery away from the rest of civilization, carries a hint of romantic domesticity about it.

Chief among these overtones of a coded homosexual relationship between the duo is West’s reactions to Dan’s third key relationship, that with Francesca, the most clearly romantic and explicitly sexual. From the start of the film till its conclusion, West is alternatively dismissive of Francesca and threatened by the risk she posses towards his relationship with Dan, a feeling that is mutual on Francesca’s part. The rivalry between the two is some of the film’s strongest material, allowing West to get in more than a few excellent deadpan one-liners (“Think with the big head Dan, not the little one.”), as well as underscoring the homoerotic subtext of West and Cain‘s relationship. While the narrative structure of the film is typical of the genre and somewhat predictable, the film plays with the audience’s expectations as to what the cause of the horror, and our salvation from said horror, lies. In turn, the film’s examination of sexuality becomes increasingly surprising and sophisticated. While the film is structured around Dan’s need to resolve his conflicting desires, this confusion becomes the instigator of the film’s horror. In turn, Dr. West becomes the source of security and stability in the face of this horror. Yes, West is obsessive, his work dangerous, and he engages in more than a little manipulation to achieve his ends, but that does not change the fact that he is the most rational and proactive character in the film. Consider: Dan is an emotional mess in the film, and it is his confusion and selfish obsession with reversing Meg’s death which places Francesca in danger. Similarly, when a cancer patient similar physically to Meg dies, Dan is too busy explaining how he see’s Meg in this woman to notice she is dieing, and makes the situation worse when he botches cutting into her chest in order to try and save her life. Chapham furthers this point as we at first meant to feel some sympathy for him given his wife’s state as a re-animated corpse, until West points out that Chapham himself killed his wife through physical abuse (leading to perhaps my favourite line of the entire film: “Dan, he’s a wife beater! Use the gun!”). As such, Dan’s claims that West is more interested in seeking out fresh meat for his experiments rather than helping patients ring hollow, particularly when we are shown evidence that directly contradicts Dan’s beliefs. When a soldier dies at the film’s beginning, West actually shows frustration at the man’s death when Dan is clearly not looking, before he decides to test his regeneration fluid on the man. Not too long after, West risks his own wellbeing to save Dan’s life, and later on still, West continues to work on saving a patient’s life after Dan’s crippled emotional state leads to her death. The worst thing that can be said of West is that he is a cold pragmatist after the fact. Given this, West and his clinical views about life and death are less horrific than the alternatives presented in the film, and from here, the film can be read as a subversive attack upon supposedly normative heterosexual relationships by revealing, in a coded manner, the destructive side of heterosexuality. However, I’m not certain that this is entirely the case, as the idea of West as being a coded homosexual does not entirely hold up. To begin with, while Dan supposedly is working with West to further the work, we are most often presented with West working alone while Dan is off doing just about everything and anything else. When the Bride of the title comes to life, and looks at Dan as its creator, West repeatedly rejects the notion of anyone else save himself as the creator, a point that is hard to argue given what we witness onscreen. If West can be read as anything, it is as asexual, with asexuality as being upheld as an ideal and infinitely less destructive form of reproduction, free of the emotional trappings of any other form of sexuality. Of course, you have probably just read everything and are asking one question, and one question alone: is the film any good? To that, I give a resounding yes, though the film does suffer from some flaws. The film is an energetic piece that occasionally oversteps its available resources as a low budget sequel, but shows great confidence in its quest to entertain. Brian Yuzna provides a solid hand as director this time out, perfectly balancing the tone of the film as a whole and giving his actors room to take center stage. Stylistically, Yuzna too often attempts to imitate his predecessor Gordon rather than attempting to imprint his own stamp on the proceedings, though this attempt at consistency with the first film is appreciated.

Given that it is a Re-Animator film, questions inevitably turn to the effects, and I am pleased to say that they work for the most part, offering some inventive stop motion work and all the gore expected of the film. Occasionally, the low budget roots do show through, from the awful flying head effect for Dr. Hill at the film’s conclusion, to the inability to even show an onscreen shooting, with a sound effect substituting for the absent practical effect. Given the low budget of the film and how much is achieved onscreen for such little money though, it is hard to fault the filmmakers for such minor flaws. The film’s greatest strength though, as it was in the first film, is Jeffery Combs as Herbert West, as he walks the fine line between deadpan seriousness and melodrama. Given the meatiest material to work with, Combs gives this role nothing less than his all, and continues to make West not only one of the most beloved horror cinema icons, but the best mad scientist character of the past thirty years. Even as other components of the film occasional failing to work as they should, Combs is always on hand to deliver another magnificently over-the-top speech or contemptuous smack down on those around him. The rest of casts’ work ranges in quality. Bruce Abbott is fine as Dan Cain, though his shifts between Dan’s different mental states are occasionally clunky and reveal his limitations as an actor, while the returning David Gale is wasted in the film, as Carl Hill really has little to do overall until the final third of the film. Fabiana Udenio is honestly given nothing to do except be shocked at what happens around her and provide gratuitous nudity, and Mel Stewart does the best he can as a plot device. Still, Bride of Re-Animator is a more than worthy sequel to the classic original, offering more than enough fun, horror and intellectual meat for film lovers despite its flaws. Will the third film, Beyond Re-Animator (Yuzna 2003) carry on this level of quality? We shall soon see.

Tempest Trailer

2010-10-06T12:12:00.001-04:00

This. Looks. Awesome.

Burke and Hare trailer

2010-10-05T12:51:00.001-04:00

Yeah, I am looking forward to this.

The Graveyard Shift (Singleton 1990)

2010-10-03T23:52:00.008-04:00

Before I embarked on this review of the film The Graveyard Shift (Singleton 1990), I decided to go back and reread the Stephen King short story upon which the film is based. The story of the same name is featured in King’s compilation of short stories titled Night Shift, and was originally published by itself in 1970, long before King hit the big time and became not just a famous writer, but a brand of horror.

The short story is not one of King’s better works, though considered in the context of the early years of his career, it does offer insight into how he has developed as a writer. The story is focused on the tension between a drifter named Hall and the foreman at a textile mill where Hall is currently employed. Over the course of a few days working the graveyard shift as part of a clean up crew, the tensions build into a murderous rage which explodes in a mysterious subbasement where rats have not only been breeding, but have mutated into hideous, man-eating monsters.

The story is slight in plot, character, and thematic complexity, but King’s distinctive voice is in full force in the story, as he blends Edgar Allen Poe style horror with the pulpier fare of the classic EC comics. As such, “The Graveyard Shift” might have worked as a short film, and would have been right at home as part of a Creepshow sequel. As the basis for a feature film however, it is hard to see what could be done to stretch the material beyond the twenty minute mark. That Ralph S. Singleton’s film works at all is a miracle, but is doesn’t change the fact that the finished film is a failure overall, never finding an strong enough approach to adapt the material for feature length.

As in the short story the film is based on, the film focuses on a drifter named Hall (David Andrews, Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines [2003]), who arrives in a town where the only work to be found is at the local textile mill owned by Warwick (Stephen Macht, whose credits mostly seem to be from television), a greedy and corrupt man who has no problems with extorting labour and other favours out of his employees. While Hall strikes up a romance with his co-worker Jane (Kelly Wolf, Less Than Zero [1987]) and makes enemies with other locals, Warwick is faced with the threat of his mill being shut down due to various building and health code violations. Bribing his way into getting extra time to clean the place up, Warwick drafts Hall and Jane into the graveyard shift clean up crew. As tensions heighten amongst the crew, people start to disappear and a mysterious subbasement is discovered. Does the subbasement have anything to do with the mill’s massive rat population? Only a trip down holds the answers.

While the film takes the general premise of the short story, it abandons the short story’s focus upon the mental state of Hill and his murderous rage against Warwick. The relationship between the two this time out is more clean cut: Hill is decent average-Joe here, while Warwick has been transformed from an inept boss who likes to lord his limited power over people into a cartoon-ish villain, openly and knowingly playing God with people’s lives through running the town's only source of employment. In place of this missing psychological thrust, the film instead chooses to reflect on the recession era America it was produced in (which does allow the film to feel oddly timely with the current recession), with the presence of the rats scourging for scraps mirroring the desperation of the town folk in need of work, and their willingness to do whatever it takes to even just get a scrap.

It is this sense of working class desperation and impoverishment that the film captures perfectly, at least in the production design and photography. The town in this film is a decaying rural hell, mixing dilapidated industrial structures with just enough gothic elements without going overboard. The film is successful enough in creating its impoverished world that by the time the monster bats and rats come out to play, their existence seems almost natural.

Unfortunately, the production design and photography is about all that works in the film. With our characters reduced to stock types of hero/villain/hero’s girlfriend/etc., it is natural to assume the filmmakers would be to amp up the man vs. monster rat action. The film though is structured like a slow burn horror film, focused on character and punctuated with moments of jump scares. The problem is that there is nothing to burn here: we know the direction the film is heading from the moment it begins, and in the absence of well rounded characters, the film feels padded as it delays the inevitable (or, more precisely, the predictable), with repetitive scenes and odd tangents that go nowhere.

Take the character of Tucker Cleveland, the exterminator who we see working on the rat problem in the mill. As played by sci-fi and horror genre veteran actor Brad Dourif (Dune [1984]; Heaven’s Gate [1980]), the character is bizarre creation with no basis in King’s story, rambling on about Vietnam and the pleasures of his job. The character is one of the most entertaining elements in the film, but at the same time, one that is indicative of the film’s problems: he does not really have much of a place in the film. He adds nothing to the narrative, and if his scenes were deleted, they would have no impact upon the finished film. I love a good tangent, and as it stands, I am happy that these scenes are in the film,as Dourif is always a joy to watch, but the character is a clear indicator for the amount of padding included in the finished film.

The film’s best weapon in combating boredom however is Stephen Macht, who in his villainous role decides to chew as much scenery as possible. As noted, the character isn’t even remotely close to being anything more than a caricature of an evil boss, but Macht clearly enjoys every sleazy moment he is given to play, especially when his character (SPOILERS) is allowed to go completely crazy at the film’s conclusion. (END SPOILERS) Part of this enjoyment comes simply from the fact that Hall by contrast is such a blank slate of a lead character, which is in no way the fault of actor David Andrews, who gives a fine performance. The material Andrews is given is simply limited, and it is hard to imagine any actor being able to make anything out of the character. Fairing even worse is Kelly Wolf, who has absolutely nothing to do throughout the whole film.

Most disappointing however is the film’s climax in the subbasement, as the characters start to behave irrationally, and the final confrontation with our monstrous bat/rat thing is given the short end of the stick after an entire film’s builds up. The direction is haphazard and the sequence is poorly edited, undermining any possible tension and ending the film on a somewhat sour note. I understand trying to keep a monster in the shadows, but when your film is about a giant mutant bat/rat, then the expectation is that the audience will see it head on at least once. As it stands, the limited presence of the monster seems to be motivated by a lack of adequate special effects rather than any artistic reason.

While Graveyard Shift is a disappointment and should not be at the top of anyone’s Halloween viewing list, the film does hold a small amount of charm and some treats for horror film fans, including an early performance from Andrew Divoff of Wishmaster (1997) fame. Furthermore, it can at least be said that it is not the worst film ever produced based on a Stephen King work, and for those who make it to the end of the film, the closing credit’s music is cool and catchy. If you are holding a marathon of films based on the works of Stephen King, you could do worse than slapping Graveyard Shift in the middle of the pack. Just don't kick off or end the marathon with the film.

Dracula’s Daughter (Hillyer 1936)

2010-10-01T00:11:00.012-04:00

Let me be honest: I am really not that big a fan of Tod Browning’s 1931 Dracula. It is a fine film, and its classic status is completely justified. Personally though, the film never quite comes together for me: Dr. Seward (Herbert Bunston) and John Harker (David Manners) are fairly one dimensional characters and never become interesting, and Edward Van Sloan’s Van Helsing does nothing for me, leaving the film to be carried on the backs of Bela Lugosi’s justifiably famous portrayal of the Count, and Dwight Frye’s creepy Renfield, as well as Browning’s atmospheric direction.

So I didn’t exactly hold out much hope for the sequel Dracula’s Daughter (1936), a film where only Van Sloan returns from the original and direction is handled by Lambert Hillyer, the man responsible for the unsettling and sub par Batman serial previously reviewed here on the blog. Consider me stunned by the fact that Dracula’s Daughter is not only a good film, but a film that I hold as being vastly superior to its better known predecessor, with a sharper script from Garrett Fort, a more involving cast of characters, and greater thematic complexity.

Dracula’s Daughter picks up right where the 1931 Dracula leaves off, with two constables finding Van Helsing with the bodies of Renfield and Dracula. Arrested for murder, Van Helsing turns to a former student for help in preparing his defence, Jeffery Garth (Otto Kruger), a psychologist who is disbelieving of Van Helsing’s claims of vampirism. Things start to get complicated when Dracula’s body disappears and a Hungarian Countess named Zaleska (Gloria Holden) appears on the London social scene, looking for help from Garth to cure her supposedly uncontrollable impulses. It seems Zaleska is out for blood, cruising the streets for victims to feed off of with the help of her manservant Sandor (Irving Pichel). Can Zaleska control her impulses? And will Garth be able to help her, or fall victim to her curse?

What is perhaps most striking about Dracula’s Daughter is that it is less a horror film than it is a tragic psychosexual thriller, dealing with repressed desires, patriarchal authority and trauma. Unlike Browning’s Dracula, with its clear cut good and evil characters and monstrous title character, Dracula’s Daughter is a film in which the next generation copes with the sins of the fathers, both literal and figurative. While horrors exist, there are no villains in this story, only flawed people trying, and failing, to cope with their problems. The end result is a rich film of dashed hopes with an ending that is far from happy.

From minimal research online, I have been able to tell that much has been made of the film’s lesbian subtext, a point that is perhaps most strongly illustrated in a famed scene in which Zaleska has a woman picked up for her to “paint“, only for the moment to go horribly wrong as the young woman becomes Zaleska's latest victim. However, while this subtext is clearly present, nothing in my (again, minimal) research seems to focus on the film’s incest subtext. Indeed, it is possible to look at the film as an extended study of the emotional and psychological aftermath of an abused daughter, one forced to relive (and recreate) the trauma caused by her parent.

Zaleska’s quest throughout the film is to conquer her thirst for blood, a thirst which, as ever, carries overtones of sex and sexuality. As the film begins, Zaleska’s first task is to steal the body of her father and ensure its destruction, a point which she initially hopes (and believes) to have brought an end to her curse. What is made clear here is the distinct lack of identification between the daughter and her father. For her, the father is unquestionably a monster, and his death brings a temporary sense of relief. Given the nature of a vampire, and Zaleska’s horror at her own desires and drives, Dracula thus becomes analogous for the sexually predatory father, a point further underscored by the question of just how Dracula fathered Zaleska: she does not share his famous name, and at no time is any mother named. Thus, is Zaleska the literal chid, or a “child” by nature of being the victim of his vampiric desires?

Either option for Zaleska’s parentage places her at the mercy of her father, and it is Dracula’s ever continuing presence in Zaleska’s life, even in his death, which drives her own vampiric actions. This point is clearly made in a scene in which Sandor slowly undermines Zaleska’s confidence that the curse is broken in her father’s death, as he makes claims to Zaleska being still nothing more than a creature of the night. It is a striking scene, played to perfection by Pichel, whose character bares a resemblance to Lugosi’s Dracula. As such, Sandor becomes the echo of Dracula and his powers, a testament to his memory and hold over Zaleska’s life. The fact that such a powerful voice is held by Zaleska’s supposed subordinate is one of the film’s many complex ironies, and if taken as a surrogate for Dracula, Sandor’s actions at the film’s conclusion make the tragedy of the ending all the more complex and unsettling.

Given the various components of the Zaleska character, the role is a challenging one, a challenge more than met by Gloria Holden’s portrayal of the character. While the character is without question a victim, even as she is demonized as a monster, Holden always manages to find the most human side of Zaleska, even as she commit’s the most heinous of acts, allowing the viewer to hold sympathy for her while at the same time feeling sorry for her victims. Moreover, Holden brings a mature sensuality to the role that is reminiscent of Monica Bellucci which gives the seductive side of Zaleska added strength and terror.

Unfortunately, despite playing the title character, Holden receives second billing to Kruger, who is fine as Garth, through the role gives him little to do beside being a complete bastard. Of course, that is part of the point: while supposedly the film’s “hero,” Garth is little more than another abusive male, not unlike Dracula. Short tempered and aggressive, any humanity and likeability of the character can be contributed to the character of Janet, charmingly played by Marguerite Churchill, who undercuts Garth’s supposed authority at any and every opportunity.

If Dracula’s Daughter has any drawbacks, its that the film is not particularly scary for a supposed horror film. As noted, the film bares more of a resemblance to a psychosexual thriller, with its emphasis upon the psychological underpinnings of the human mind and the noted sexual subtext. Moreover, with regards to the Van Helsing subplot, the film does ask viewers to swallow a fairly big plot hole for those who have seen the first film: just where the hell is Mina and John to come to Van Helsing’s defence? Granted, the film has little place for them in the narrative, but a small explanation would have been nice.

Such complaints are minor quibbles however, as Dracula’s Daughter is a fantastic mini-classic of the Universal Horror films of the Classic Hollywood Era. For those looking for a real vampire film this Halloween, Dracula’s Daughter is highly recommended.

So What is Coming Up Here on the Site?

2010-09-24T11:13:00.002-04:00

So what is coming up here on the site?

Well, for starters, I have been working on a series of reviews to hopefully be posted at a steady rate over the course of October, all horror films, hence the lack of updates this week. The first should be posted late next week, and keep going over the course of October.

First up will be Dracula's Daughter, so see you then!

One Year of the Experience Cinematic!!!

2010-09-22T16:51:00.002-04:00

Yes folks, somehow this blog has lasted one year! In celebration, here are some of what I think are the best reviews on the site:

The Wolf Man (Waggner 1941)
Black Legion (Mayo 1937)
Carnival of Souls (Harvey 1962)
Black Rain (Scott 1989)
The Full Treatment [Stop Me Before I Kill!] (Guest 1960)
Paranormal Activity (Peli 2007/2009)

Game Boys (Jones 2008)

2010-09-16T13:09:00.002-04:00

Let’s face it: when it comes to being a geek, there is a certain level of childishness that comes with it. We spend time focusing on the minutia of our obsessions, litter our shelves with nerdy objects and in general tend to hold onto a great fondness for our childhood loves. Growing up tends to be something of a balancing act, as we take on adult responsibility and maturity whilst still holding on to our geeky passions.

Its no wonder then that as our fellow geeks have come into being filmmakers, television producers, writers and artists, we have seen a surge of films that try and address that tension between childhood geek-dom and entering into adulthood: Free Enterprise, Clerks II, and Shaun of the Dead amongst others have explored this theme, usually organizing the conflict through the trials and tribulations of their protagonists’ romantic pursuits. In each of the mentioned films, the female partners sought become the guide and symbol of adult life, and whom our heroes must meet in maturity.

Joining this canon of films is Brad Jones fourth feature length film Game Boys. The film marks a break from Jones previous efforts Cheap, Freak Out and the yet-to-be-released-online Midnight Heat, which have all played in the exploitation film sandbox. Game Boys focuses on Scott (Jones), and old school gamer who as the film starts is dumped by his girlfriend of six months. Given that Scott is prone to drinking, his roommate and friend Ray (Alex Shryock) comes up with a plan to get Scott’s mind off of his ex: hold a video game competition/party built around (arguably) the most notorious video game in existence, Custard’s Revenge. Scott is less than enthused with the idea of the party (and the game itself), but gets onboard when he realises the event holds the opportunity to get close to Sally (Bianca Queen), a fellow classic gamer. The only problem? Getting a copy of the game itself.

Game Boys is both literally and figuratively a film of growing pains, as Scott works out his life and Jones launches into different territory for him in his feature length work. Moving away from his plot heavy horror/thrillers, Jones focuses on a narrative that is stripped down both in terms of plot and thematic complexity, a change that does lead to a few problems for the film as a whole. The looser structure of the film leads to several sequences that go on too long, most notably the montage sequences, and some important characters, including Sally, are underdeveloped while more simplistic characters such as Steve receive more screen time. And at points, the gaming dialogue goes a tad too far, working in gaming references at points when more straightforward dialogue would have worked in the film‘s favour.

However, for all the film’s flaws, Game Boys is Jones’ best film yet, showcasing a greater sense of confidence and control as a filmmaker from when he first began. As the film opens, we are introduced to Scott and Ray in a simple conversation that quickly and effectively establishes who the characters are, with a snappy rhythm built out of the performances and editing that shows none of the beginning filmmaker uncertainty in his earlier films. By the time the film launches into its excellent opening credits sequence, which between the images of classic advertisements and music clearly outlines the film’s exploration of nostalgic longing and comfort, there is no doubt that Jones knows where he is taking his audience as we wander through the classic gaming subculture, including instructional videos, back ally game dealers and gaming obsessed mothers.

At its best, Game Boys is a character focused comedy of people and places familiar to the geek set, deftly blending moments of absurdity with an understanding of the fine details of geek life. Moreover, in taking on a romantic comedy, Jones allows his innate likeability to shine through as an actor, making an effective romantic comedy lead. Luckily, in Bianca Queen, Jones has an actor of equal strength to play off of, and the chemistry between the two allows for the relationship to have an innocent sweetness despite some of the characters’ rougher edges. More uneven is Shryock, who occasionally oversteps the fine line between being a heightened character and being slightly like a cartoon, but more often than not he finds the right balance for most of his scenes.

Perhaps the most surprising element of the film is the way in which Jones avoids the road of showing nostalgia as being something which needs to be grown out of, and in the process avoids transforming Sally into little more than a end goal to be reached by Scott. Nostalgia here is an important part of all the characters here, and it becomes the foundation for a community. Given this, Scott’s quest is not one in which he seeks to leave behind the community, or grows out of it, but grows within it. With this, Jones manages to avoid the clichés of the romantic comedy genre for the most part, and build scenes out of small moments, such as the wonderfully tender final shot of the film.

The one element of the film which does need to be addressed is the film’s most controversial plot point, that of Custard’s Revenge being the focus of the film’s narrative. While I am not going to describe what the game is about, I will say that the game is one of the most horrific and sexist games ever put to market, and its placement at the heart of an otherwise light comedy is certainly a curious choice. Within the film, Jones does go out of his way to acknowledge the game’s content and address it, partly by the volatile reactions demonstrated by some characters towards the game, and in part because the game is ultimately acknowledged as trash. Indeed, (SPOILERS) part of the point of the film’s conclusion is that the game and the contest built around it is a fruitless endeavour in and of itself, and that the sense of community built around gaming is the real core of the film. However, because the film never fully addresses the issue head on and places it to the margins, it can potentially make some audiences uncomfortable. Moreover, I do believe that the game does have a thematic point as well, but I will be the first to acknowledge that the film doesn’t nearly develop this thematically enough to be able to say that it is a defendable point. (SPOILERS END).

At the end of the day, save that one quibble, I give Game Boys a full recommendation, and it can be viewed at Jones' site here. It is a flawed film, but one that has more passion and understanding of geek culture then some films which are available. With any luck, Jones will return to feature length filmmaking again, and with any luck will once again push himself into a new direction as he develops as a filmmaker.

Opinion: Machete, Responsible Viewing and Bad Parenting

2010-09-12T18:24:00.002-04:00

Let me take you back to 1991, when I was seven. At the time, one of the things I loved to do, and would pester my parents about doing frequently, was driving by the film theatre in a nearby city whenever we would visit, just so I could see the film posters. Oh yes, I wanted to see the films themselves as well, but going to the theatre was a rarity at that point.

One Saturday, my father for work purposes was going to his office in a nearby town, and asked if I’d join him, with the promise of stopping to see the posters afterwards. I jumped at the chance, and after sitting in his office for what felt like forever while he gathered some work together and talked to a few co-workers, we were off to the local cinema. Above and beyond all other posters, there was one I was dying to see in person in this pre- internet era: the poster for Terminator 2: Judgement Day.

Now, to be honest, I had not really seen many Schwarzenegger films at that point, beyond Twins, but Terminator 2 was a film I had been pumped for ever since attending a Blue Jays game earlier in the year and seeing the trailer for the film play on the jumbo screen. That trailer was far more interesting than that particular game ever was, which ended up being the first and last professional baseball game our family ever went to. But the images from the trailer were burned into my mind: robots, morphing robots and action? I was just itching to see that film.

Of course, I never honestly expected I would get to see it: at least, not at that point. It was an R rated film, and I was under the impression that kids were not allowed in R rated films at all. So I was beyond stunned when we drove past the theatre and, instead of looking at the posters, my father announced that we were going to see Terminator 2.

What followed was one of the most memorable film going experiences of my life. From the minute the exoskeleton’s foot crushes the skull, I was in awe: this film wasn’t just awesome, it was epic. It was dark, scary, imaginative and all around badass, and I will admit to being sad as “Uncle Bob” sacrifices himself for the sake of the future. More important however is that is was a great time with my father, one of those experiences I wouldn’t trade away for anything.

Yet, I do have to look back on that as my adult self and wonder about how wise it was to take a seven year old to a hard R action film. I’m not saying it was a bad move, as I have yet to turn into some sort of violent psychopath, and I seem to have been able to process the film fairly well given my age. Credit where credit is due however: Cameron made a damn good film that, while fun, is serious and set in a world in which violence has consequences. Even as a kid, I remember realizing just how intense and frightening the sequence in the Dyson home is, and the feeling that something big was at stake. I couldn’t necessarily describe what it was in words, but an awareness none-the-less.

When/if I have a kid of my own, will I show them Terminator 2 at the same age I saw it? Likely not. I don’t think I would hold it back till they are 18, but I will likely wait till they are somewhat older. For starters, I’m likely to start them off on black and white films and television just so they can develop an appreciation for classic cinema and television before I get to more recent material, but in all honesty, I just want to be able to make sure that they are ready and capable to handle what the film throws at them.

Now, let me take you back to Saturday, September 4th, 2010. Me and my father decided to check out Machete, the latest exploitation film from Robert Rodriguez. Or rather, the latest exploitation homage/parody. The film is an absurd but fun work, an ultra violent cartoon with a real political anger at its core. It isn’t perfect, and is a little long, but we had a fun time.

What unsettled me however was that a few rows behind us in the theatre, was a woman with her young kid, who couldn’t have been more than six years old, if that. As much fun as Machete is, the film is a large scale joke, were death is laughable, sex is a farce, and any notion of “seriousness” is left far behind. it’s a film where in the opening few minutes, a woman pulls a cell phone out of a questionable place, and several brutal killings happen.

Is a six (likely five) year old kid really going to be able to properly process this film? I doubt it. Is it responsible to show this film to a kid? Not at all. An R rated film is, at some point, a right of passage for all kids, but not at that age, and certainly not just any R film when the time comes. While it might have been a mistake to have shown me Terminator 2 at the age of seven, it is a film that strongly emphasises the value of life, shows death as a painful process, and that the taking of life is not easy. Machete does none of these things, nor should it: it isn’t that kind of film. But that also means that it needs to be viewed with a good understanding of what it is.

Irresponsible parenting when it comes to what kids watch is something that bugs me. Knowing what a kid is and isn’t ready for takes effort and restraint, and yes, some sacrifice. You may not be able to watch whatever the hell you want any time you want with a kid around, or might have to pay a baby sitter. Tough, that’s part of the deal with kids if you are going to have them. More to the point though, it is a problem that extends beyond the life of your own kid, as it merely gives fuel to the fire for those who try and blame childhood violence on films, television and gaming. I like having hard R horror films and action films, and I don’t want to see future productions jeopardized because of parents who don’t know better give censors ammo.

And don’t tell me you cannot control what your kid can and cannot see. You can control what enters your own house, or where you keep your R rated material. You monitor who your kids friends are, right? Keep in contact with those kids parents? You can probably have a pretty good idea what they might be watching. Claim you cannot control the internet? Well, don’t give your young kid a personal computer.

Most importantly, take these earlier years to get your kid ready to be a responsible viewer themselves. Help them to understand what it is they watch, how to process it. Talk it over with them. Discuss key topics. Don’t just slap a film down and let them mindlessly absorb it. Get them to think! There is no better time then when they are young to start. Those films you miss will still be there later once that time with your kids is done.

So they choice is yours. Choose wisely

New Post Sunday

2010-09-10T19:54:00.002-04:00

New post slightly delayed. It is an opinion piece rather than a review, so stay tuned!

Heavy Metal (Potterton 1981)

2010-09-03T19:43:00.007-04:00

Let me be clear: I love a good, trashy adolescent film every so often. I make no secret my love of Crank and Crank 2: High Voltage, or of any other number of B schlock films. Even the just released trailer for Hobo With a Shotgun looks entertaining as all hell. While often regressive, politically incorrect and idiotic, these films still have a certain appeal and a sense of fun about them. Moreover, in their own odd way, they are able to tap into the undercurrents of society, even if it is doing so for purely exploitative reasons.

Then, there is Heavy Metal (Potterton 1981)

It is hard to describe just how much I hate Heavy Metal, the Canadian made science-fiction/fantasy animated anthology film. It is a film that sets the bar low, and then proceeds to fail to reach even that modest height. Worse, as it fails, it takes things I love, including science fiction, pulp fiction, animation and great Canadian talent down into the gutter with it. It is as if the filmmakers were going out of their way to try and insult the viewer of the film on every conceivable level.

Heavy Metal is based on an American magazine of the same name, which itself was based upon a French magazine, from which the American version of the magazine apparently reprinted translated material. While I have never read an issue of the magazine, its reputation among genre fans is well known, both for featuring the works of noted comic artists and writers as well as for is hyper-sexual and hyper-violent storylines and images. While I cannot say the degree to which the film reflects its source material, there is no question that the filmmakers were certainly in love with the concepts of sex and violence, as these two elements are what the film solely consists of.

So, just what is the story, or stories as it is, of this anthology film? This is the first major problem with Heavy Metal, in that there is nothing in the film that can be called a story, let alone multiple stories. Yes, stuff happens on screen, but none of it is actually contained in anything resembling a narrative. I could use a famous quote from Macbeth to describe the material and the way in which it is presented, but I don’t feel like insulting Shakespeare by sheer association at this point. Technically, the so-called stories are tied together by a device called the Loc-Nar, an orb of great power which terrorises a little girl with its grizzly tales of death and destruction, which include zombies, taxi cab drivers, stoner spaceship pilots and other things that might have been interesting if anyone had actually bothered to write a script.

At this point, allow me to quote a selection from the 2004 edition of the Oxford Concise Dictionary of Literary Terms, written by Chris Baldick, about “plot“: “the pattern of events and situations in a narrative or dramatic work, as selected and arranged both to emphasis relationships - usually cause and effect- between incidents and to elicit a particular kind of interest in the reader or audience…” (195).

Now, lets breakdown one of the segments in the film. We have a set up that various random mutations are happening among the population of Earth, with a respected scientist showing up at the Pentagon to give his opinion on the matter. So far, so “ok.” In the process of doing so, however, he freaks out and begins to sexually assault a stenographer. Apparently, this has something to do with the Loc-Nar, though the how and why are unclear. Oh, and this assault is played for laughs, so, now we drift into the offensive. Then a tube breaks through the roof and sucks up the scientist and the stenographer into a spaceship, where we find out the scientist is a malfunctioning android created by another robot. Why the android was placed on Earth is never explained. Then they take off, with the stenographer still with them. Then the stenographer goes off an sleeps with a robot, while two space pilots get stoned, fly their ship, and ultimately crash land. Then the stenographer agrees to marry the robot, as long as it is a Jewish ceremony.

Now, you might believe that I have just described the basic, raw story with no finesse or actual attempt at describing the plotting that the actual filmmakers provide. You would be wrong, as the film provides no actual sense of relationship between the different parts of the “story” at any time. Even the basic idea of cause an effect isn’t present, let alone more complex forms of relationships between different elements of a given tale. And I would have been satisfied with basic cause and effect; it is not as if I went into this film expecting anything more than a collection of pulp tales. And this form of “storytelling” happens throughout the entire film, including the framing narrative, as the film follows the same pattern over and over again: sex, death, sex, gore, sex, murder, more sex followed by sex, a woman riding a dragon (surprisingly, that isn’t a sex scene), followed by more death. Oh, and the Loc-Nar exploding for some reason.

Part of the film’s narrative problems likely stem from the background of the screenwriters. The duo behind this film is Len Blum and Daniel Goldberg, of Stripes and Meatballs fame. Now, I dig Stripes and think the original Meatballs was fun though flawed, but how on Earth did anyone think that these two were the duo to write a sci-fi anthology film? Both Stripes and Meatballs were far from being tightly plotted films, with the scripts just setting up scenarios for Bill Murray and crew to be funny as possible in. While Heavy Metal does make attempts at comedy, most of the stories are played straight. Due to this, the limits of Blum and Goldberg’s skills as writers are revealed, as each segment comes off as little more than half baked sketches, waiting for an improve team to come in an fix them up.

The main blame doesn’t rest with the writers however: they didn’t hire themselves, and it wasn’t their decision to move forward with the script as it was. No, those responsibilities rest with producer Ivan Reitman as well as director Gerald Potterton. Why didn’t one of these two take a moment to read the script an realize what a piece of garbage it was? I don’t mean to insult the writers, but I have a hard time imagining that anyone would have thought producing the film was a good idea if the script is close to what ended up on screen. Potterton doesn’t really direct so much as he allows the film to spiral out of control, and Lord knows just what on Earth Reitman was up to during the making of the film.

Worse, these filmmakers took plenty of talented people down with them; Elmer Bernstein of Ghostbusters fame; comic greats Neal Adams, Howard Chaykin, and Bernie Wrightson, who worked on the film’s design; and the cast, which includes John Candy, Joe Flaherty, Harold Ramis, Eugene Levy and John Vernon. Everyone here deserved better material to work with than they received, and it is a great pity to see such talents wasted on this project. With any luck, I at would hope that they were at least able to make car payments with the cheques from this film.

While the film has little in the way of saving graces, it would be wrong not to give credit where credit is due when it comes to the design of the film. While the finished film is poorly animated, the design work is fascinating and beautiful in its ugliness. Most notable however is the soundtrack, which is perhaps the best remember aspect of the film, as it features music from Journey, Sammy Hagar, and Devo amongst others. The music is a nice distraction from the rest of the film, and thankfully the soundtrack is available to be listened to apart from the film itself. The same however does not seem to be the case for Bernstein’s score, which only sparingly appears but is still quite wonderful when it is allowed to shine through.

I could end this review by calling the film adolescent trash designed for 13 year old boys, but I would like to give 13 year olds a little bit more credit than the filmmakers of Heavy Metal give them. Animation fans may want to check it out for curiosity’s sake, but everyone else would be better off with a Ralph Bashki film. And I not particularly a big Bashki fan.

Superman (serial; Bennet 1948)

2010-08-27T18:02:00.017-04:00

When I say that the 1948 Superman serial is disappointing, I don’t wish to give the impression that it is a bad piece of filmmaking. Far from it: while suffering from the same ultra low budgets as the two previously reviewed Batman serials, Superman is a far more ambitious effort, with more consistent writing, acting and production values. Or rather, in the case of the production values, consistent in their inconsistency. As a piece of the Man of Steel’s history, the serial is invaluable, given that it is the first ever live action adaptation of the character, and is only the third such adaptation following the radio series and Fleischer Studio animated shorts. And its faithfulness to the source material is astounding given the history of Hollywood to alter comic character source materials at random.

Yet, the disappointment remains, and the reason is a problem which has plagued Superman in all media, particularly in the early adaptations of the character: after the origin, the film doesn’t really know where to go with the character. How does one challenge Superman? Either the Man of Steel needs to go up against someone with immense power, skill and/or intellect in order to give him a proper threat, and/or Kal-El must go up against a moral/ethical challenge that he cannot merely punch his way out of. Sam Katzman’s Superman is no better at solving this issue than other adaptations, which is a shame, as the film begins on a promising note.

The first third of the serial covers the origins of the character and introduces many of the main elements of the Superman mythology, including Lois (Noel Neill), Jimmy (Tommy Bond), the Daily Planet and Kryptonite. This section of the serial flies by at a breakneck pace to get the main story of the battle for the relativity reducer ray, with the planet Krypton and early life on the Kent farm being condensed into roughly twenty minutes of screen time. While this pacing does lead to many forced moments where characters make declarations of intent, while key events happen off screen (Ma and Pa Kent’s deaths are particularly brushed aside), this early portion of the serial is fairly exciting and involving, as we see how many of the iconic moments of the character’s story were in place this early on. Of particular note is the Krypton section of the story, and the handling of Superman’s father Jor-El. Nelson Leigh plays the role with real sense of weight that was an unexpected delight, as he verbally spars with the doubting council of Krypton’s elders about the fate of the planet. Yes, the destruction of the planet is mostly stock footage, but everything leading up to that point is given more attention and care than I expected. Certainly, the Krypton section of chapter one fares better than the Smallville section as far as writing and acting goes.

The problem with the fast pace however is that the serial ultimately runs out of material long before the finishing line of the fifteenth chapter. The Reducer Ray story is sound enough, with the idea of Superman needing to protect the ray from the clutches of the Spider Lady (Carol Foreman) making for a solid, if generic, through line, and the Spider Lady’s introduction offers promise of her being a slightly toned down femme fatale. Sadly, the narrative goes nowhere quickly, as the Spider Lady turns out to be little more than a stock villain shouting orders over the radio at her suit wearing thugs. The film isn’t helped by Foreman’s acting, who turns the Spider Lady into less of a master criminal than a pouting teenager. Thus the film is left with Superman fighting stock thugs for the rest of the film, and after opening up with the destruction of a planet, it is a bit of a let down.

The end result is that the film falls into a pattern that repeats endlessly with slight variation: Lois gets in trouble, Superman saves her; Jimmy gets in trouble, Kal-El saves him; Lois AND Jimmy get in trouble, and then Clark needs to save them. In between, the thugs attempt to either get the Reducer Ray, the secrets of the Reducer Ray, or a part of the Reducer Ray, and Superman stops them. Were the hero of the tale a little more vulnerable, it could have been a little more exciting, but its Superman, and placing him up against a bunch of thugs just doesn’t amp up the excitement level enough. Even nifty pulp ideas such as the villains creating a rocket launching device filled with Kryptonite is tossed away as the earliest convenient opportunity.

This doesn’t mean the serial is awful, just duller than a serial featuring Superman should be. There is fun to be had though, and points of interest for fans of the character. For starters, Kirk Alyn deserves every bit of praise he has received for his performance in the title role. He plays Superman straight and with a sense of childlike joy, like he is playing a massive joke on the world and having a ball being the only one in on it. Noel Neill is a good counterpoint to Allen’s Superman, though all too often the writing makes her the butt of a number of sexist jokestypical of the period, and Loi spends most of her time being rescued by the Man of Steel, thus denying Neill the chance to make Lois into a fully crafted character. Tommy Bond is ok as Jimmy, with a good comic rapport with Neill and Allen, though again, he is not given enough material to make his character all that distinctive. The trio of actors manage to carry the serial through its repetitive instalments and make the events fun, but by the end I wished they had more material to work with.

For all its faults, it is hard to hold them against Superman at the end of the day, given that many are typical of for serials in general and for the character of Superman regardless of the medium his story is being told in. It is just hard to make the film an honest recommendation when better versions of the character are available to watch. For hard core fan, Superman is a must see serial, though for all others, the serial only comes with a mild recommendation.

Neighbours Follow Up

2010-08-25T16:51:00.003-04:00

Found this on you tube recently, and it is an interview that was done around the time of the release of Neighbors, which was reviewed here last month.

The video is errie given the events that would happen not too long afterwards, and Gene Shalit is as terrible an interviewer as ever, but it is highly worth watching to see how Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi were in the early 1980s. Enjoy!

The Expendables (Stallone 2010)

2010-08-20T18:51:00.007-04:00

Sylvester Stallone’s greatest strength has always been his sincerity. The first two Rocky films, and the more recent Rocky Balboa are prime examples, with Stallone wearing his heart on his sleeve as we see a good man attempting to do his best to stay true too himself over the course of his life. Even the original First Blood, as much as it is a commercial thriller, comes from a very real and raw place.

However, this sincerity has also over the years proven to be Stallone’s greatest weakness, particularly when he wanders into political territory and presentations of “ideal masculinity.” Notably, this problem tends to come up most in his action films, and the results usually involve overblown, hyper-masculine displays, rampant paternalism, casual (and not so casual) misogyny, and a tendency to simplify complex issues into situations to be solved with a gun/knife/fists/any-other-weapon-of-choice. At the best of times, the films are so absurd that it is impossible for them to be taken seriously (Rambo III and Rocky IV come to mind), and at the worst of times, are so regressive and naïve as to insult the intelligence of the audience and offer a repugnant, ignorant presentation of a given topic (the Burma situation in the most recent Rambo being the worst offender). Stallone’s attempts to deny the cultural and political impact of his films by using the “mere entertainment” defence are undermined by his own claims regarding his desire to make his films personal statements, or at least reflect his values.

Thus, we come to The Expendables, Stallone’s latest action fest and one which has drawn much interest for its cast of action heroes, both past and present. The Expendables follows a group of soldiers of fortune, lead by Barney (Stallone) who become involved with the plight of a small country being run by a corrupt general and an ex-CIA agent (Eric Roberts). Barney and crew decide they want nothing to do with the job after a failed reconnaissance mission, but guilt and a desire to help the daughter of the general drives Barney to change his mind.

While something of an enjoyable romp, and hardly as insipid as the last Rambo, it is hard to come away from the film without feeling slightly disappointed and frustrated. With its premise of teaming up the legends of action cinema together, The Expendables held out the promise of being something more than a mere homage to the action films of old, of possibility being a film which took stock of where the action film genre and its stars have been, where they are, and where they are going. Indeed, with a title like The Expendables and a men on a mission premise, the film seemed to be on the path to offering some form of meta commentary about the manner in which the stars have fallen by the wayside. Unfortunately, the film settles for merely being a salute to what has come before, embracing Stallone’s ideas of aggressive masculinity being natural (and preferable to other forms), the importance of homosocial environments, and a guns-can-solve-anything attitude (or, if not guns, explosives). On this level the film is indeed fun and a romp, particularly as we get the opportunity to see old legends like Dolph Lungdren take to the screen along side current stars such as Jet Li.

Unfortunately, there is still that political side of the film, and the solutions offered to the issues raised in the film. US interventionist policy is at the heart of The Expendables, mixed with themes of fatherhood and parental responsibility. The political divide in the film is structured through the relationship between the country’s leader, General Gaza (David Zayas) and his daughter Sandra (Giselle Itie), as the corrupt father figure who himself is infantilized by ex-CIA agent Munroe (Roberts). As such, the film would seem to be a condemnation of America’s paternalistic treatment of other nations, trying to determine what is "best" for those abroad.

However, the film is structured in a manner that pits Barney as the competing, morally right father figure who opposes these forces, and the film builds towards Gaza's daughter’s acceptance and identification of Barney as the “good” parent whose values and ideals will become important in the rebuilding of the nation. As such, the film’s supposedly anti-interventionist politics are are contradictory, suggesting that the problem is not that the United States have chosen to unilaterally act as the father to second and third world countries, but that the occasional renegade forces of greed take the reins of such efforts. In some respects, it feels like an apology for the George W. Bush Jr. era foreign policies.

You will note of course that I have made repeated use of the word “paternalistic” in describing how the film handles its politics, and with good reason: the film contains a strongly regressive set of gender politics that leave no place for woman other than to adopt the “wisdom” of the male world view (of course, only one type of masculine identity exists in this film, so that is the wisdom of aggression and male privilege). In addition to the infantilized Sandra, the film has only one other female character in Lacy, played by Charisma Carpenter, whose talents are utterly wasted here. Lacy is part of the “subplot” (if two or three scenes can really make for a subplot) for the character Lee Christmas (Statham), and she is condemned early in the film for seeing a man other than Lee. Her reason for seeing someone else is sound: Lee disappears for months at a time, tells here nothing, and then expects her to just cosy on up to him when he returns. Unfortunately, the film never bothers to actually take Lee to task for his failings: it is Lacy who needs to learn the male code and submit to Lee’s “wisdom.” Her punishment for not doing so is to end up with an abusive boyfriend, as if that is the only other choice besides the emotionally neglectful Lee. Submit to Lee’s “wisdom” she ultimately does, not that it was avoidable. Given Lee’s surname of Christmas, what else could he be than a father like figure to her?

Yet, the film is so blaringly stupid as to bring into question as whether it can be taken seriously at all. Take the film’s approach to drug abuse and mental illness: these are not issues in need of being carefully treated, but instead can be solved with a good old fist fight and property damage. Well, as long as the mentally ill individual has a near death experience. I wont say which character has this subplot, but needless to say, the whole thing is fairly embarrassing and indicative of the level of which this film is working on as far as intelligence goes.

Yet, all throughout the film, you can feel the presence of Stallone and his damned sincerity. That he believes what he is selling here; that he isn’t capable of seeing just how idiotic the film he was produced is. It in turn allows the film to reach Ed Wood levels of idiocy and entertainment, as well as Ed Wood levels of pity. You can say what is wrong with the film, but Stallone will never get it. Just like he didn’t after Rocky IV. Or Cobra. Or Rambo.

As the end credits of The Expendables roll, the tired song “The Boys are Back in Town” plays. Indeed, the boys are back in town. I just wish they had grown up a little, rather than reliving the old days over again.

New Review: Late Tomorrow

2010-08-19T22:09:00.001-04:00

My review of The Expendables will be up tomorrow night. See you then!

Blog "Relaunch": Friday Aug 20, 2010

2010-08-12T00:13:00.003-04:00

As you may have noticed over the past two weeks, not much has been posted as in other months. This has been due to a mixture of a busy real life, technical problems and a few new projects that I have been attempting to get off the ground. This has lead to most of my reviews being posted as soon as I complete one, and given that I wish to have a review up each week, or at least an article, I feel like I have been attempting to barrel through these things with limited quality control.

Well, that is going to change. There will be a "relaunch" on August 20th, 2010. At that point, I should have three reviews finished and ready to go, and it is my intent to post these every Friday. With any luck, this will correct the delays that have come as of late.

So see you on the 20th folks!

Quick Reviews!

2010-08-09T18:34:00.002-04:00

Ok, due to a technical problem and a few real life things to sort out, my review has been delayed till Tues/Wed. However, here are some quick reviews I am posting for films I am either not intending to do full reviews of, or want to wait on them for.

Inception: Brilliant, brilliant film. I will review this in full once it hits DVD/Blu Ray so I can go over the film in detail. Till then, go see it!

The Other Guys - A good film from the crew behind Anchorman, and perhaps the most sly effort from the group, examining both modern conceptions of masculinity and how they tie into American concepts of wealth and success.

Escape from New York - ok, I have seen this film a million times, but the new Blu Ray looks fantastic. However, no extras? And what is up with the crappy menu system MGM?

Help the Autism Women's Network!

2010-08-09T00:24:00.005-04:00

The Autism Woman's Network needs your help!

If you are American and wish to support the AWN, please vote for the organization to recieve funding from the Pepsi Refresh Project to help hold workshops across America for women on the Autism spectrum. In fact, there goals are as follows:

•To organize 5 Workshops with focus on female specific autism qualities
•To provide online support & mentoring for autistic females & families
•To secure Autism Women's Network as a non-profit organization

Please vote here! And vote daily!!

Also, want to know more? Check out the Autism Women's Network website and No Stereotypes Here!

Back tomorrow with a new audio review! And no, it isn't Inception (though I will talk about it briefly in the review).

Updates and RIP Tom Mankiewicz

2010-08-02T21:23:00.003-04:00

Hey folks! Due to a busy week, including a new project and some unexpected work which needed to be done, the Inception review is delayed for the next little while. However, a reivew will be up later this week, and a cool new project hopefully not long after :)

On a sad note though, long time Hollywood screen writer Tom Mankiewicz passed away at the age of 68. Mankiewicz worked on a few of the Roger Moore era Bond films and perhaps most famously for being the "creative consultant" (aka the real writer) on Richard Donner's Superman: The Movie. May he RIP and God be with his family.

Batman: Under the Red Hood (Vietti 2010)

2010-07-30T17:15:00.003-04:00

That's right, now you can suffer listening to me!

Click To Play

Batman (serial; Hillyer 1943)

2010-07-26T22:27:00.011-04:00

(My review of Inception will be up by Friday of this week)

In my review of Batman and Robin, the 1949 serial from Sam Katzman, I noted that one of the key reasons the serial works despite the clear and abundant flaws is due to the innocence of the whole effort. It set out to tell a Batman and Robin adventure, and low budget (and narrative logic) be damned, it did it with enthusiasm.

I cannot however give the same good will to the first ever live action Batman film, the 1943 serial Batman, also produced by Columbia pictures and directed by Lambert Hillyer. While the film comes out of the same low budget roots as the latter film, Batman is not a simple adventure serial, but rather a piece of war time propaganda designed to drum up anti-Japanese sentiment. The film is thus full of racist caricatures and slurs, with an extremely jingoistic attitude permeating every frame of the film. While the context out of which the film was produced may make these elements understandable, it doesn’t make them any less uncomfortable in the context of a boy’s adventure serial. And even if one is able to watch with the understanding of why the film is what it is, it doesn’t change the fact that the serial isn’t really all that good.

In Batman, Batman and Robin (Lewis Wilson and Douglas Croft) are secret crime fighters who work for the United States government. In Gotham City, a Japanese spy and master criminal, Prince Tito Daka (J. Carrol Naish) operates, taking control of the criminal underworld and seeks to sabotage the United States war effort. Its up to Batman and Robin to stop Daka, but can they do so when Daka possesses a league of zombies at his command (old style zombies, not the Romero flesh eaters) and a deadly radiation gun?

As an adaptation of the Batman character, the 1943 serial is an abysmal failure. Since his first appearance in 1939, Batman has always been an aggressively individualistic character, working for the law by working outside it and on his own terms. While the comics of the 1950s and the 1960s television adaptation tried to mitigate this element of the character, it has never been able to be fully purged, and it is one of the most appealing elements of the character. He is totally uncompromising in his fight against crime, but it is a personal war, not one beholden to any specific country or ideology. In transforming Batman into a government agent, that individualism is lost, as his quest is subsumed into the larger war effort.

The film however cannot even get the concept of a ideologically driven Batman right. Lewis’ Batman is less of a crime fighter and more of an overgrown man-child looking for excitement. There is no sense of commitment or drive to his Batman: he instead opens up his assignments from Washington like a kid opening a Christmas gift, and more often than not seems to have no interest in the people he is supposedly trying to help. In fact, Lewis’ Batman is a mean spirited individual, viciously pulling pranks on his Alfred and treating his supposed romantic interest Linda (Shirley Patterson) with outright contempt and negligence. If this were a persona to throw people off from figuring out that he is Batman it would have been one thing, but here, this is simply who Batman is. At least Croft’s Robin is likeable enough to balance out Wilson’s failings as our “hero.”

These problems with our hero go beyond Wilson’s performance however, as the filmmakers set about making Batman the saddest superhero committed to film. Batman is repeatedly beaten by the criminals he is after, and more often than not, it is either Robin and/or Alfred who are bailing him out of trouble. The final chapter of the serial actually involves Batman being sidelined until Robin rescues him and subdues the villain. While I am all for a fallible hero, in making Batman this inept, there is no sense as to why anyone should be interested in following his adventures.

Then, there is the racism. Now, while it is certainly true that the film is a product of its time, this in no way forgives the vitriol in which the film engages with such attitudes. The whole film seems to seethe in an open desire to attack the Japanese at any given moment, and there is rarely a moment in the film that goes by without some form of anti-Japanese sentiment raises its head. Some of it is so absurd that it could almost be laughed off, such as a scene in which an American criminal gives a bafflingly patriotic speech, but then the film heads down much more serious territory, including an unsettling moment when Batman himself starts using racial slurs against Daka. Perhaps no moment sets the venomous tone of the film more than an early scene in which the narrator points out the “wisdom” of the interment camps which Japanese Americans were placed into during the war. The moment lays bare the film’s intent, and it is hard to try and see the film as anything more than a historical artifact of war time propaganda afterwards.

There are aspects of the serial however that are worthy of mention. While he plays the role for laughs, William Austin’s Alfred is actually one of the few parts of the film that works, even though he is victimized by those he serves. Placed in various disguises and situations he shouldn’t be in, Alfred does manage to get a few real laughs throughout the film. And the opening theme sets the mood perfectly, and as it plays over the Columbia logo, the music feels reminiscent of the Danny Elfman Spider-man theme. Unfortunately, nothing in the serial lives up to the expectations set up by the music.

When it comes down to it, Batman is of little note: As an artifact of World War II era filmmaking, it is only one among many example;. serious film serial fans will likely find it forgettable and a poor representation for the format. As for diehard Batman fans, the film is a must watch, but only from the perspective of the character's evolution into a cultural icon.

Updates: New Contact Info, etc.

2010-07-23T18:00:00.002-04:00

Hey everyone!

Quick update: new review will be up Monday, and one will follow on Friday.

Second, the site now has a new e-mail address if for some odd reason somebody wanted to contact the site:theexperiencecinematic@hotmail.ca.

See you Monday!

Batman and Robin (Serial: Bennet 1949)

2010-07-16T14:19:00.013-04:00

Given my love of serialized fiction, classic cinema, and B movies, it is odd that I have never watched a film serial from start to finish before now. I have seen selected episodes from some serials, including the classic Flash Gordon from 1936, and I am familiar with the overall structure and production style of these efforts, but I have never gone out of my way to watch one. Luckily, I can wipe that off my list of cinema fan failings, having now watched the 1949 Columbia Pictures serial Batman and Robin, from producer Sam Katzman and director Spencer Bennet.

From what I have been able to find online, starting with a Sam Katzman serial might not be considered ideal for diving into the history of serials. Katzman’s productions appear to have a reputation for being cheap, quickly produced works, a far cry from the earlier noted Flash Gordon serials which were expensive productions, by serial standards. And indeed, the cheapness does show on screen in Batman and Robin, from the poorly designed Batman cowl, to the low budget animation which appears from time to time, and the fact that the Batmobile is a simple 1949 Mercury. Worse, the writing is often lacking, leaving the film full of plot holes and lapses in logic, problems which are exacerbated by shoddy production values and direction.

Yet, I despite these clear and abundant flaws, Batman and Robin remains an oddly fascinating and entertaining experience, particularly when considered within the context of Batman’s later cinematic adventures. Batman and Robin manages to be remarkably faithful to its comic book source material, and despite the lapses in logic, the presence of a super villian, and beyond questionable science, the serial actually manages to take itself seriously enough to be a legitimate and noteworthy adaptation of the character. At the very least, it is better than the other Batman and Robin (Schumacher 1997).

In Batman and Robin, the dynamic duo (Robert Lowery and Johnny Duncan) are caught in a battle with a mysterious foe known as “the Wizard,” who has stolen a remote control device that is capable of controlling automobiles, trains and planes. As Batman and Robin attempt to solve the mystery of who the Wizard is retrieve the device, they must also contend with photojournalist Vicki Vale (Jane Adams), Bruce Wayne’s romantic partner as she comes closer to figuring out just who Batman and Robin really are.

Given the format and era in which the serial was produced, it should be no surprise that Batman and Robin is bereft of the characterization and the psychological depth of both Tim Burton and Christopher Nolan’s live action Batman films: the point is to get on with the adventure, not spend time studying Batman’s psychosis. Having said that, Batman and Robin does ask that the viewer invest in the adventure taking place, rather than playing the concept and adventure for deliberate laughs, unlike other adaptations. Batman and Robin here are heroic and hardworking figures in this film, planning stakeouts, searching for clues, and engaging in fisticuffs with low level thugs. Moreover, they are far from the demigod Batman and Robin written by Grant Morrison, with this Batman and Robin being more than capable of making mistakes and being injured. The logic of the adventure/mystery itself might not always make sense, but the effort to ground the film in some semblance of reality is appreciated.

As the title characters, Robert Lowery and Johnny Duncan make for a solid, if unremarkable, set of leading men. Lowery struggles somewhat as Batman, working hard to overcome the costume which doesn’t make his Batman the most formidable looking of heroes. However, Lowery is more comfortable in the Bruce Wayne persona, which actually is one of the film’s more memorable achievements. Like the comics, the public Bruce Wayne is used to deflect people from connecting Wayne to Batman. However, unlike the pompous playboy or recent films and comics, Wayne here is played as a boring, lazy and borderline narcoleptic individual, which oddly enough does make sense. After fighting a long battle against crime each day, why wouldn’t Bruce be tired, and use that to his advantage? Duncan is given less to work with, but his youthful enthusiasm makes him a memorable balance to Lowery’s calm, collected Batman.

More surprising than either of the title characters though is the portrayal of Vicki Vale. While technically Bruce Wayne’s love interest, Vale spends more time as a take charge journalist who doesn’t simply wait around for Batman to rescue her (even though she is rescued at a few points). Yes, this type of characterization was developed long before by the likes of actress Katherine Hepburn, but to see it featured so prominently in a boy’s adventure serial is still quite shocking. Some of the writing remains questionable surrounding the character, such as why she is interested in Bruce Wayne when all Bruce does is act like a self centered, boring jerk, but Jane Adams brings enough life to the character that even the most questionable of scenes are usually sold by her energy and spunk.

I don’t want to give the impression that I am ignoring the serial’s various flaws however. For starters, the central threat of the remote control device makes little sense: how is it that devices that are, by all accounts, not operated by remote able to be remote controlled? Or why doesn’t Batman, Robin or Commissioner Gordon (Lyle Talbot) actually investigate radio personality Brown if they wonder where he is getting his information from? Problems such as these of course have a simple answer in that the plot requires the padding to stretch the story out, but it is hardly an excuse. Other problems have less clear answers, such as why Bruce Wayne, as a rich playboy, would live in the suburbs rather than, say, a mansion that would give him more cover for his activities. The answer might have been that a mansion set and/or location would have been too much for the film’s budget, except that the filmmakers clearly had a mansion set to use for another character’s home in the film.

Such flaws however tend to add to the film’s overall charm and give it a layer of unintended but amusing comedy, which would sink the production if it were not so innocent. And really, that is what allows Batman and Robin to hold up: it aims to do nothing more than to entertain with its limited resources. While it may not be the best adaptation of the character ever committed to film, Batman and Robin does have the distinction of being an entertaining adaptation that is worth checking out for fans of B cinema and the Batman character. Plus, the film is filled with enough fistfights, car chases and explosions to live up to the serial’s promise of exciting adventure.

Given my enjoyment of this film serial, I will soon be delving into more of the Classic Hollywood era film serials which gave birth to the George Lucas/Steven Spielberg era blockbusters. But before I get into those, there is a matter of reviewing two genuine science fiction film classics from the past two years…

New Review Tomorrow, and Here is a Preview...

2010-07-15T22:41:00.015-04:00

New review will be up tomorrow, but here is a slight hint at what it is. Care to guess which film from the below choices?

The Evolution of the Live Action Batman Costumes

The Batman (1943 serial)
Batman and Robin (1949 serial)

Batman: The Movie (1966)

Batman (1989)

Batman Returns (1992)

Batman Forever (1995)

Batman and Robin (1997)

Batman Begins (2005)

The Dark Knight (2008)

See you tomorrow folks!