Audiences today are spoiled.  They have a billion channels and what seems like a half-billion different streaming options.  In many respects, whenever any one of these outlets has a new program to push, they flood their particular airwave with adverts a'plenty; and this definitely gives those programs a greater chance to reach fans and/or develop a following.

Well, back in the days of truly syndicated programming on television, we had a little something called Cleopatra 2525.  If I remember correctly, it was one of the programs was Universal Television developed in an attempt to create a greater identity around the syndicated partners.  The upside to that?  Springing from some of the creative folks who delivered Hercules: The Legendary Journeys and Xena: Warrior Princess, Cleo promised much of the same dynamic but transported to the world of a dystopian future.  The downside to that?  Well, syndicated stations were likely contracted to air local sport events as well, and this made having a consistent broadcast slot difficult to guarantee the fledgling SciFi/Drama.

In any event, I caught it when I could find it; and I loved it.  Yes, it was a bit cheezy ... but weren't many of the best genre entries?  No other show on television had the triple threat of Gina Torres, Jennifer Sky, and Victoria Pratt, three of the loveliest heroines to grace a single show of the time.  Their adventures ranged from low-camp to high-camp, but it was all delivered with restrained nods and winks to audiences willing to suspend their disbelief and, quite simply, cheer for the ladies.  Let's hear it for the girls!

I know that the program is out there in the marketplace available on DVD.  If you like your Earthbound SciFi a bit sweet at times, then you'd do well to pick it up or investigate it on whatever streaming platform you can find.  Torres was a great leader; Sky had an occasionally manic yet Marilyn Monroe vibe; and Pratt?  Oh, my goodness!  The abs!  Those lovely, lovely abs!

As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!

Four years ago this evening, The CW firmly upped its commitment to 'somewhat' superhero storytelling with the premiere of DC's Legends Of Tomorrow ... and a new franchise was born!

I don't usually use this space to sound off on individual programming, but I thought it relevant to through out a few thoughts on the state of that particular property, which I honestly gave up on with last season's tepid finale and equally painful season.  (Yes, you read that right.)  I'm not picking on a show that largely established itself on a revolving door of heroes as well as dipping in and out of time-travel stories ... but last season's way-too-long sidebar with 'magical creatures' really wore me out.

For what it's worth, I don't think anything in terms of quality has come near to its first season (with some caveats about an equally interesting Season Two): Rip Hunter's set-up was very solid, and giving these anti-heroes a reason to band together and save themselves and the galaxy-at-large (even when it didn't serve their own personal interests) set the show out with a solid dramatic dynamic.  The weekly stories naturally built on the premise, and the writers even managed to work in some interesting relationship twists that felt organic without adding a layer of saccharin prosthelytizing that sometimes (sadly) goes hand-in-hand with genre programming.  All seemed solid in the world of The CW.

And then we get to Season 4 ...

Now, I've got nothing against 'magical creatures,' per se.  In some regards, 'magical creatures' are part and parcel of what makes quality Fantasy storytelling its foundation.  However, adding 'magical creatures' to a world that already required a certain suspension of disbelief in order to accommodate time travel pushed the audience into tenuous territory, indeed.  I hate to harp on any show for trying something different ... but 'magical creatures?'  Really, Berlanti?

Still, kudos to the showrunners and storytellers for keeping the adventure on-the-air at all.  That's something still to be appreciated in this day and age when networks struggle to find audiences against the always growing threats of new channels and/or new streaming outlets.  Also, I'd be remiss if I didn't say I appreciate Legends ongoing ability to keep its special effects budget at a level that made the show acceptable if not occasionally even exceptional.

How long with it last?

No one ever knows, but thanks to all of those who've joined in and participated up to this point.  Here's hoping we'll be celebrating genre entries for decades to come!

​As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!

For those of you who don't quite follow the trade papers on the entertainment industry, then here's my summation: the Walt Disney Company is well on the way to becoming the one-stop-shop for all of your genre needs.  Not all that long ago, they purchased 20th Century Fox -- a move I personally think was largely done to bring nearly all of the Marvel properties under a single roof -- and this means that the Mouse House definitely has its ears wrapped around much of Science Fiction and Fantasy.

However, this move also meant that some of Fox's work appeared to have been lost in the shuffle.  Projects that were completed were shelved for the time being as Disney's plans -- namely, their slate of upcoming Marvel projects -- needed to be examined against the greater tapestry of things to come.  For example, Fox's ongoing adventures in the X-Men universe established some box office clout, but these films had been definitely underperforming so far as bean counters were concerned.  Thus, The New Mutants -- a Fox film that went into post-production back in 2018 -- was promised but delayed ... until today.

It looks like Disney has finally slated this youth-centric Mutants flick into its Spring theatrical schedule, and the film will finally open in early April, 2020.

For those of you interested, I encourage you to check out the trailer below.  It 'feels' a bit like the other X-Men entries (or, maybe, the more recent ones), but the focus is on mutants just discovering their powers and the dangers they pose not only to the world at large but to themselves.  Who knows?  There may just be some new blood in thar hills ...
​

As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!

I don't know about you, gentle reader, but I tend to avoid lists.  You know the kind I'm talking about?  Things like "The Top 10 Robots In Films" or "The Best Three SciFi Films You've Never Seen" tend to be almost entirely driven by the writer's subjective experience: what one person likes isn't always indicative of anything (especially quality), and while there may be some interesting observations in the general article or two the whole premise of ranking what's available in entertainment only lasts so long ... inevitably, something else comes along that impacts the list, and then the reader and writer have to start the process all over again.

Now, there are lists I promote from time-to-time, such as the case in this article from Screen Rant.  (link)  Writer Lauren Coates is simply trying to give readers a heads-up as to what Science Fiction films are due at the box office in 2020, and it's this kind of information that -- while still being somewhat subjective -- provides the age-old journalist pledge to "inform" readers.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.

So if you're in the market this morning for a little research into things to come, then I'd encourage you to give it a read.  As you know, SciFi tends to be pretty big box office these days, and Coates' polite summation might just have you working up an appetite.

As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!

Anyone's who has paid close attention to my periodic musings on the greater Star Wars universe knows of my love for the animated version of The Clone Wars.  While being somewhat kid-friendly (though it does feature a fair share of violence), the program truly opened the door to some high quality storytelling possibilities, pitting the brotherhood of Jedi Knights against the ongoing threat against the worlds of the Senate while occasionally exploring that Shakespearean backdrop of Anakin Skywalker's impending fall from grace.  Showrunner Dave Filoni and his willing conspirators did gangbusters with the show that introduced a few new characters but reignited our love for so many classic characters ... so color me impressed that the Mouse House finally decided to grant the series a new lifeline with a seventh season.

All that was needed was a premiere date ... and now we have one!  (link)  It'll be returning with new stories on February 17, 2020.

Seriously, peeps, if you've never seen Star Wars: The Clone Wars, then you need to start streaming it now; and this may very well be the best reason to sign up for Disney's streaming service I can give you.  (No, I haven't done so myself, so I can't speak to The Mandalorian.)  Its first season is a bit pedestrian, and it has a few stinkers in season two and three (such is the nature of episodic television) ... but otherwise The Clone Wars is a pretty epic vision that a universe like Star Wars deserves.  It might just make you appreciate the Force in a way you haven't before.

​As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!

Sorry, folks, but I don't read much by way of the comic book business these days.  Simply put, it just got too expensive for my tastes, and I couldn't justify the ongoing investment when the 'return on investment' (that being, enjoying a good book) seemed to be growing smaller and smaller with each passing year.

In any event, I do keep my eyes peeled for the occasional 'something special,' and I recently read a blurb about IDW's "The Kill Lock."  (link)  The set-up -- four robots are simply trying to stay alive -- sounds reminiscent (in a good way) of the seminal SciFi film Blade Runner (1982), but this one ups the ante by linking the four together with a lock: if one dies, they all die.  That definitely adds juice to the potential narrative, no?

If that premise alone tickles your fancy, then I'd encourage you to follow the link to get up-to-speed on the possibilities.  The book is just kicking off, and I'm sure IDW and writer/artist Livio Ramondelli would appreciate your support.

As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!

​No one can blame the global movie audience for suffering from a bit of superhero fatigue.
 
1989’s Batman blazed onto the silver screens compliments of Warner Bros. and Tim Burton, and – in the wake of its success – a reasonable number of other comic book properties gave it the sailor’s try to enjoy the same commercial and critical success.  While there were a few winners, methinks that there were more losers; but it wasn’t until Marvel Studios’ Iron Man – with the box office clout of critical favorite Robert Downey Jr. in the lead as Tony Stark – that Hollywood truly sunk its teeth into more substantive adaptations.  And once Walt Disney joined forces with Marvel – bringing along their ability to put serious capital behind such investments – the sky was truly the limit.  Caped wonders were everywhere – indeed, many of which were part of the larger, burgeoning Marvel mythology with motion picture after motion picture paving the way for even more – and suddenly every studio (and their mother’s uncle) joined the big business of modern era crusaders.
 
Perhaps it’s precisely owed to the proliferation of such big budget features that the smaller, quieter, spandex-free entries typically failed to attract the attention of ticket buyers.  After all, not every fictional character has the tax returns of Stark and Bruce Wayne, so the little guys and gals who curiously stumble upon powers not granted mortal men (and women) fight the uphill battle of finding a single silver screen for display when Captain Marvel has reserved half the multiplex’s.  For example, 2012’s Chronicle did solid business for a low-budget superhero thriller using the found-footage format to tell the story of three teens who develop superhuman powers they eventually turn on one another.  2018’s Fast Color stays much more firmly grounded in the traditional indie focus (the young woman finding her way in the world) while balancing the character’s need to fully understand what she can accomplish with her powers.
 
This brings me to 2018’s Freaks … which, in short, might just be one of the most bizarrely original ‘superhero’ movies I’ve ever seen.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of person who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for my final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From IMDB.com: “A bold girl discovers a bizarre, threatening, and mysterious new world beyond her front door after she escapes her father's protective and paranoid control.”
​

At times, it’s quite difficult what to make of Freaks, the 2018 SciFi/Drama release from Amazing which is both written and directed by the team of Zach Lipovsky and Adam B. Stein.  The early claustrophobic scenes provide very little explanation for this world wherein a young child seems trapped (but is she?) by her father (but is he?) in a house (but is it?) against her will (or could it be …?).  All that the audience is treated to by way of a world outside – beside the rantings of what seems to be a delusional father (played by Emile Hirsch) – is a single ice cream truck driven by the aged Mr. Snowcone (Bruce Dern); and how can ice cream not be of interest to the shut-in Chloe (Lexy Kolker)?  Despite dad’s demands, Chloe eventually finds her way out into the sunlight, where she’s immediately kidnapped by the ice cream peddler and taken to … the nearby park?  Is this some bizarre abduction gone routine?
 
It doesn’t take long for this unlikely couple to draw the attention of a passing police officer.  Fearing that the young girl has either been abducted or might be one of the ‘infected’ hinted at but never quite explained, he attempts to intervene; eventually, his will succumbs to Chloe’s psychic demands, and he bewilderingly walks away without a look back.
 
It’s this perfectly executed uncertainty that makes Freaks such a delight to watch.  Hints are dropped so consistently and preternaturally that this world is not what it seems that the audience has no choice but to wait it out, hoping for some character to eventually rise up, break the Fourth Wall, and explain just what is up with everyone.  Has dad gone mad?  Is this child truly his own?  Could ice cream be the bridge to some fanciful tomorrow?  And what was happened to dear old mom?  None of these characters – the father, the child, and Mr. Snowcone – are what they appear to be at the outset, and only patience for what Lipvosky and Stern are strategically revealing is rewarded.  The pieces are deliberately placed in such a way as so build suspense around their shared journey – are they trapped by some greater, outside foe or could all of this be some massive cinematic hallucination fueled by a deranged few?
 
Once the audience realizes that not only dad’s fevered imagination holds a nefarious secret but also Mr. Snowcone and Chloe do as well does the wall come down – figuratively and literally.  Layer by layer, Freaks tugs on each dramatic reveal, displaying a world that might have far more mutants than just a fateful few showcased here.  This is a place where not even the neighbors can be trusted as paranoia against those different from us has paved the way for a Gestapo-like government to lethally enforce public will; each of us in only a drone strike away from destruction … unless we possess the ability to do something about it.
 
Hirsch and Dern turn in exceptional performances as men haunted by their recent past with motivations to set about change no matter the cost to their personal and supernatural safety.  (Supernatural safety?  It’ll make much more sense when you watch the film.)  Amanda Crew turns in fabulous work, balancing a woman’s maternal instinct against what she thinks might be a nervous breakdown.  Young Lexy Kolker – at the ripe young age of just under ten years old – shoulders much of the narrative burden here; and she delivers on every promise.  Her Chloe is curious and equally aghast at her circumstances, and the child actor turns in an seasoned performance here as a young girl who just wants a normal life, powers be damned.
 
Judging by the flick’s box office, essentially few people besides the critics and festival crowds saw this thing, and that’s a damn, damn, damn shame.  Seek it out.  Stream it.  Pick up the DVD.  Give it a try.  You may not enjoy all of it (such is the nature of entertainment), but I dare you to challenge its unique voice and originality.  Who knows?  You might just believe a man can fly.  Or a woman.

In many respects, the streaming business boom of the current era is very similar to the home video boom of the 1980’s and 1990’s.
 
Back then, anyone with some creativity, a video camera, some willing friends, and a bottle of ketchup could make an entertaining slasher film in the 80’s, and distributors were lining up to release them.  Largely, this is because every street corner had a video rental store – even small grocery stores ran a video rental counter – so there was money to be made for those willing to put up even a modest bit of capital.
 
As the World Wide Web expanded, more and more folks flocked to the internet to satisfy some of their entertainment needs.  The expansion of sites like MySpace, Facebook, and YouTube gave everyday people the opportunity to build home-grown franchises.  As Netflix morphed from the premiere home rental outlet to a veritable streaming giant, it became clear that streaming was the way of the future.
 
Still, it’s that 80’s craze that captivates so much of what’s still being rediscovered.  The demand for new flicks was insatiable, and this brought a handful of small(ish) production companies into existence, many of them sprung out of other studio systems when the getting was good.  One of the more fondly remembered ones was Full Moon Features, a little giant that produced such motion pictures as Trancers, the greater Puppet Master saga, and today’s flashback review Robot Wars.
 
Producer, writer, and director Charles Band founded both Empire Pictures and Full Moon largely for the purposes of creating genre-exploiting releases; and he’s been credited as just one of the many masterminds he helped fuel the home video explosion mentioned above.  1993’s Robot Wars was his idea (as per the flick’s IMDB.com citation), but scripting duties were fulfilled by Jackson Barr (who was also responsible for such SciFi features as Trancers II, Seedpeople, and Bad Channels).  While some might argue Barr and Full Moon’s scripts were always a bit derivative by other similarly themed big budget features, the production team still managed to eek out a bit of charm from an overused premise.
 
Robot Wars story is set in the year 2041, wherein some unnamed catastrophe has left the United States in geographic shambles.  However – as capitalism still reigns supreme – tours into the wasteland are common, and crack investigative archaeologist Leda Fanning (played by the eternally fetching B-movie queen Barbara Crampton) and her journalist/friend Annie (Lisa Rinna) believe there’s a secret hidden in them thar hills.  But they’ll need to team up with wise-cracking robot pilot Marion Drake (Don Michael Paul) and his partner Stumpy (James Staley) if they’re to thwart the terrorist group Centros from winning the day.
​

With a film named ‘Robot Wars’ one might expect more robots and even a war or two, but sadly the flick offers very little by way of action, drama, or interesting conflict.  For clarity’s sake, there’s really only one robot battle – naturally withheld until the flick’s final reel – and it’s a bit of a disappointment as this B-movie’s special effects were limited due to the size of Full Moon’s capital.  The motion picture does feature a pretty fantastic stop-motion Scorpion-shaped robot – it’s depicted prominently in all of the film’s advertising – and it definitely would’ve been grand to see the mechanical creature put to greater use in a longer film: for the record, Wars clocks in at barely 70 minutes … and even that includes uncharacteristically long opening and closing credits sequences.  Think of the film as a bloated telefilm, and you’re certainly on the right track.
 
Actors Paul and Staley really aren’t given much to do as the film’s central partnership: while their relationship is built around the usually snarky barbs of the young pup versus the wizened engineer, the dialogue devolves to unsubstantiated smart-aleck remarks and eighth-grade-level humor.  Staley is particularly wasted with observations couched in word choices probably befitting a much younger man; while Paul is shoehorned with overt anti-authority speeches which end up making his one-dimensional.  In short, he’s the hero because he’s been written to be the hero, so expect no substitutes.
 
Likewise, Crampton and Rinna fare no better from Barr’s attempts at exposition.  Neither are given all that much to do, hampered with exchanges that sound more like drunken high school tête-à-tête than they do adult dialogues.  Crampton, in particular, has proven herself capable of so much more throughout her career, and her work in Wars appears to have been little more than showing up and delivering lines as written; the second half finds her somewhat in damsel-in-distress mode as well as shackled in a romantic entanglement (with macho-flavored Paul) that seemingly blossoms out of nowhere.
 
Sadly, Barr’s script never truly clarifies this particular universe – the greater history of the U.S. much less these particular players, though Stumpy offers the occasional reflection of the way things used to be when the plot needs moving forward – and the end result is that Wars seems at conflict with itself, never rising up or going anywhere unless its on the written page.  Clearly, there’s an antagonist in here somewhere – Danny Kamekona’s Wa-Lee is the closest thing the audience is given as an adversary, but his motives appear to be limited to grand theft and general nastiness.
 
B movies do have their own charm, and Wars manages to dish some out, though much of it is limited to scenes involving the Scorpion-bot and its interiors.  Production design for these lesser films of the 1980’s and 1990’s was always fairly simple (yet effective), and these behind-the-scenes wizards do their best with what they were provided.  In fact, the film works best when its left in these environments; everything else – including the 1990’s era tourist town Crampton and Rinna visit to further investigate the script’s conspiracy – display the obvious limitations of budget which constrain every small studio.
 
In short, if you’re looking for a way to kill an hour, then Robot Wars is effective.

Beyond that?

​It’s all wasteland.

Like so many who either write professionally or blog about entertainment these days, I was there when the original Star Wars premiered theatrically back in 1977.  And like those folks I stared at the silver screen wide-eyed as the rebel cruiser rushed high above Tatooine’s atmosphere as the malevolent Imperial Star Destroyer pursued, its guns focused on maiming the escaping ship.  Equally dazzled by the rest of George Lucas’s two-hour space fantasy, I returned to the theatre again and again and again, as did audiences around the nation: the visual flight of fancy captivated people everywhere, and we seemingly couldn’t get enough of these adventures that took place a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.
 
Thankfully, the saga didn’t end there: Lucas and company delivered a total of six films, with The Empire Strikes Back, Return Of The Jedi, The Phantom Menace, Attack Of The Clones, and Revenge Of The Sith stretching across almost three decades.  The quality of the Prequel Trilogy was the subject of much debate – and probably will remain so long as there are fans who flock to the whole Star Wars universe of films – but one thing was clear: the Force was strong, the visuals were compelling, and even things as boring as tax policy and trade tariffs were no match for a good blaster at your side.
 
Eventually, George Lucas sold his Lucasfilm empire for an astounding amount of money to the Walt Disney Corporation; and the Mouse House promised to deliver audiences once more to the wide, wide world of spaceships, Jedis, Sith, and lightsabers: a new film trilogy (dubbed ‘Sequel Trilogy’) was forthcoming – one which promised to conclude the Skywalker saga – along with a handful of stand-alone Star Wars adventures.  Hollywood wunderkind JJ Abrams was attached, and the rest is history …
 
For me, it’s absolutely impossible to review Star Wars: Episode IX – The Rise Of Skywalker without discussing the complete saga because there are so many tie-ins, references, and callbacks to events that have transpired previously.  Critics have been understandably unkind to the release – Abrams and screenwriter Chris Terrio’s chaotic story covers a lot territory in its two-hour-plus runtime, trying to wrap up everything and anything that’s been hinted at and perhaps even a few items that weren’t.  Audiences have been more accepting (if those parameters truly matter these days), embracing some of the modest revisioning with grins, guffaws, and groans.  But – dare I suggest – it’s equally impossible to even assume everyone who boarded this great cosmic journey so many moons ago would be pleased with where it all winds up.

NOTE: In the interests of fairness, I'm pleased to disclose that there will be spoilers solely for the sake of discussion on plot and/or characters.  Take note: you have been warned!!!
​

The Rey Of Skywalker
 
Luke Skywalker was a character designed to essentially appeal to anyone.  In the original Star Wars, Luke was the young kid trapped in a dead-end town on a dead-end planet.  When his Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru weren’t looking, he’d slip off to Toschi Station to hang out with his young friends, or he’d target womp rats from the cockpit of his T-16 Skyhopper.  Like so many of us, Luke kept his eyes to the horizon, his mind constantly filled with dreams of enlisting in the Academy and perhaps one day joining the Rebellion to fight the Empire.  Though his future was never quite so bright, he imagined a life of adventure amongst the stars, and – galaxy be damned – he wanted something more.  Building a saga around such a character was a no-brainer.
 
Though she hails from a similar desert existence with little prospect for the future, Rey (no last name given for what turns out to be a very, very significant narrative reason) offers very little by way of a ‘ray’ of hope for the future.  She spends her days scavenging the remnants of a once-powerful Empire, hunting and pecking for a means to simply get by.  Seemingly, she never truly wonders about who she is much less where she has ended up, apparently having been abandoned for no reason by parents whose elusive identities never quite seems to matter.  Essentially, she’s an empty vessel, one that can be filled with practically anything a storyteller or audience member desires, and her backstory still makes sense.
 
When Luke finds himself suddenly thrust into the world of adventure he so desperately craved, even he balks at it.  Ben Kenobi asks the young moisture farmer to learn the ways of the Force so that he can accompany him to Alderaan, but the lad refuses; it’s only after Imperial stormtroopers destroyed his homestead that he relents.  In Mos Eisley, he’s literally thrown onto his backside in the cantina, left to allow a man perhaps three times his age to dispatch a couple of greasy regulars.  When he tries to match barbs with the smuggler Han Solo, Luke once again is put in his place by the aged Jedi Knight.  Finally aboard the Death Star in a rescue attempt gone horribly wrong, he’s nearly drowned and then crushed in one of the space station’s trash compacters until helped by others.  Nothing but nothing goes right for him … and he’s still the hero on the hero’s quest who’s encouraged to fire his torpedo with the Force and ultimately save the day (for the time being) in the climax.
 
For the record, the defining Skywalker continues to earn his stripes throughout the Original Trilogy.  He suffers shortcomings again and again in The Empire Strikes Back, whether it be falling prey to the dreaded Wampa on the ice planet Hoth or suffering the verbal lashing repeatedly dished out by Jedi Master Yoda throughout his training on Dagobah.  Luke fails – he fails to understand his place in the universe largely because it’s the responsibility to the hero to P-R-O-V-E himself; and any life coach worth his or her salt will remind you that failure is a necessary component of learning.  He even fails to accept the truth offered to him by Darth Vader – that he is, in fact, Luke’s father – until the facts are confirmed by the ghostly Kenobi much later.  In fact, it isn’t until Return Of The Jedi that the young Skywalker seems to have come into his own, mastered his skills, and accepts his failures as the opportunities they are to the greatness yet in store for him.
 
By contrast, Rey seemingly needs no one.
 
She comes from nowhere but is emotionally, spiritually, and physically equipped for anything.  She’s a professional scavenger, largely through experience of her own.  She’s a pilot, though the audience is never treated to any logical explanation of how, where, or why she amassed such galactic skills.  She’s even a budding Jedi Knight without granted so much as a day’s training, one who bests the galaxy’s current baddie, Kylo Ren, in her debut film’s big finish.  And she bests him again she does in The Last Jedi.  Should anyone expect a different outcome in The Rise Of Skywalker?  Only if they haven’t been paying attention.
​

Chaos By Design … Or Lack Thereof

One could argue that the narrative problems of Rey as well as the entire Sequel Trilogy are owed to the fact that these films appear to have been constructed by committee and not every serving member shared equal weight.

Much ado has been made in the press about Rian Johnson’s contribution to the saga, the controversial middle installment better known as The Last Jedi. Though the film was critically praised on its release, audiences appeared upset with its story, and the reasons ranged the simple to the complex. Luke Skywalker had fallen from grace (in a sense) but his exile was largely self-imposed, the Jedi Knight choosing to shelter himself on hidden world because he’s concluding that the Jedi and Sith are simply no good for the galaxy-at-large. Eventually, Rey’s obvious invulnerability forces cracks in Luke’s demeanor, and he begrudgingly begins training her (though his motivations remain a bit nebulous and open to interpretation). To her credit, Rey does put these lessons to good use, though the showdown appears more about establishing a personal heritage than it does saving the universe from evil.

For those unaware, Abrams and company had provided the essentials for a shooting script to the oncoming director; however, Johnson was apparently under no obligation to use it. Thus, he tossed it out (?!?!) and penned his own, one which he promised would “challenge fans” instead of appeasing them. (Sorry, folks, but I still have unequivocally no idea what that means, and I’m guessing that Johnson would conclude that I’m no fan, as a result.)

Because I’ve no way of knowing what went on behind-the-scenes regarding the differences between Abrams’ and Johnson’s drafts, I can only speculate that the former would’ve placed more building blocks onto the foundation creatively established with The Force Awakens. What could that have involved? Well, Abrams’ fondness for MacGuffins is legendary, so I can only guess he would’ve explored the secret of Rey’s past … with the possible reveal coming near the picture’s conclusion, much in the same way Vader broke the news to Luke about who his real father was. Such a twist would’ve given The Last Jedi the same narrative energy as The Empire Strikes Back gave the Original Trilogy, and I’m guessing studio executives would’ve lapped that up and begged for more when essentially all such a delivery does is pave the way for the third act … which brings us back to the discussion of The Rise Of Skywalker, its strengths, and its shortcomings.

Instead, Johnson’s script fundamentally destroyed the Resistance, shaking the saga to its foundations. His story also introduced a handful of secondary characters (i.e. Rose Tico, Vice Admiral Holdo, DJ, the Master Codebreaker), many of which seemed inconsequential and colorless in a galaxy more commonly associated with fan-favorites like Boba Fett, Wedge Antilles, and Jabba the Hutt with vastly limited screen time. Lastly, the talented writer/director killed off the central Skywalker, giving him a largely ignoble if not cowardly death in some empty corner of the universe where only Force ghosts could see him pass.

Was this the way Walt Disney truly wanted to expand its billion-dollar investment, truly resting its future on the backs of heroes yet unproven, box office ticket receipts be damned? Granted, any film with ‘Star Wars’ in the title still faces a lucrative future, but did the Mouse House truly want to turn its back on the past in such an obvious way? Yes, the baton was passed (somewhat) to a new crew with The Force Awakens, a film I personally didn’t much care for; straying so far from the path of the quintessential good vs. evil story was a calculated risk, one from which fans only hoped Kathleen Kennedy and her producing crew learned a worthwhile lesson or two.
​

All Roads Lead To Rome … Or Is That Exogol?
 
In much the way Johnson tossed out Abrams’ work to flesh out his own direction with The Last Jedi, Abrams appears to have done the same with The Rise Of Skywalker: all that remains of Rian’s work is that the Resistance is in shambles, but gone (thankfully) from the light of day are any discussions of challenging fans.  The Hollywood wunderkind is back in the center seat – for better or for worse – and he brings the saga full circle with a plot that involves the return of Emperor Palpatine in more ways than one.  The invincible Rey is also back in top form, her Jedi training apparently completed by none other than Leia Organa herself.
 
In short, the final film in the Skywalker saga’s greatest strength is that it feels like two films, ignoring much of Johnson’s creative sidebar in favor of drawing all plots and subplots to closure.  In fact, I’d argue that the first half quite possibly included elements of what Abrams’ had loosely planned as the Sequel Trilogy’s second film, the draft of which ended up being discarded: this half showcases our young heroes along with a few established regulars (Chewbacca and C-3PO) on the quest to uncover just what Luke Skywalker was up to before he went into self-imposed exile.  However, feeling like it’s two films is also the feature’s greatest weakness as much of its second half feels cobbled together around ideas that could’ve benefited from more screen time and less obvious exposition.
 
As alluded to above, audiences learn that Jedi Skywalker did more than simply fall from grace after the conclusion of Return Of The Jedi: apparently, he had a few adventures, some of which included training his sister Leia to be a Jedi Knight as well as hunting down some legends (with Lando Calrissian) involving an ancient Sith world known as Exogol.  In Luke’s absence, Kylo Ren and the Knights of Ren (sounding like the name of the worst grunge band possible) take up this quest.  Lo and behold, Kylo discovers that he’s been little more than a pawn, and it’s none other than Emperor Palpatine (or a suitable clone) pulling the strings all along.  Palpatine – last seen falling down a power shaft in Return Of The Jedi – has emerged and wants the galaxy back for himself, and he’s amassed a whole fleet of Star Destroyers just waiting to enforce his Imperial might: all he needs (curiously unexplained) is for Kylo to finally kill Rey to set the daring plan in motion.
 
Whether one likes the idea of Palpatine returning to prominence or not, this arrangement works wonderfully for the purposes of Abrams and Terrio’s script as it finally gives these young heroes some quest of their own to fulfill: together, they must locate an all-new MacGuffin, one which will lead them to the Emperor so that they can battle evil before it’s allowed to destroy their world.  Rey, Poe, and Finn finally have their own purpose in the galaxy far, far away; and this is why I’d argue that the first half of The Rise Of Skywalker is the first original and interesting material since George Lucas passed the franchise to Disney.  Like it or not, Rise’s set-up staked out an adventure for these “younglings” to go out into this universe and earn their stripes; despite a few questionable choices here and there, this first half succeeds in taking the mantle as ‘the next generation’ in Star Wars’ storytelling.  As imperfect as it was, it still worked.
 
But then came the second half, and I’ve begun to wonder if Abrams deliberately implodes space fantasy franchises so that he can get fired and go on to other projects.
​

The Incoherent Trilogy
 
Because of his long-established penchants for MacGuffins, Abrams is clearly a screenwriter perfectly comfortable with pulling solutions out of thin air (if needed); why not tie up a plot twist simply with a new Force ability?  In short, this is what magical devices do – they exist to pull tales into whatever direction the storyteller wishes.  Though intrinsic to much of fantasy and fantasy franchises, magic is not organic; thus, shackling the Jedi and the Sith with even greater mystical powers than was ever intended much less seen before in the Star Wars universe was, perhaps, a risk too great to take … and that’s probably why both Johnson and Abrams couldn’t resist themselves respectively in The Last Jedi and The Rise Of Skywalker.
 
Johnson saw fit to give Luke Skywalker the ability to Force-project himself – while still alive – halfway across the galaxy in order to help save the day in the big finish to his film.  Granted, this effort wasn’t without consequence: the expense of such will brought about the Jedi’s controversial death in The Last Jedi.  As the road was already paved by Johnson, Abrams simply saw fit to craft out a few offramps of his own by imbuing Force users with the ability to heal others and even transfer their own “life source” to another living being.  Actress Daisy Ridley is even on record in interviews as confirming that director Abrams specifically wanted to forge new Jedi powers in the ongoing saga, some of which were only hinted at previously.  Furthermore, the Jedi are now fully able to transfer solid objects to one another across vast distances by using the Force, and they can even do battle with one another while engaged in Force-enhanced visions.
 
At first blush, some of these developments do keep within the spectrum of possibilities laid out within Lucas’s films.  Before the Prequel Trilogy reduced the Force to discussion of midichlorians and blood samples, the Original Trilogy showcased Darth Vader oft using his Force abilities to inflict harm on countless others, so the evolution of using the same abilities to speed healing is debatably plausible.  And if the Force can be used to influence the perception of others (i.e. “these are not the droids you’re looking for”) then it stands to reason that the touch could be medically persuasive, no?  (This IS Fantasy, after all.)  However, I found the passing of objects across great distances to be a bit too fantastical for my personal tastes; as their was really no grounding for it in the films previously, it just seemed like a screenwriter’s creation to move the plot forward.
 
It’s this slapdash development of powers and circumstances – along with the narrative which far too often felt like revisiting the events and situations of the Original Trilogy – that has me labeling these three films as ‘the Incoherent Trilogy.’  It just rarely felt natural, rarely felt original.  When it did try to do something different – even in the appearance of wheel-based technology that had never been seen before in Star Wars – I found myself questioning, “Well, why now?  We’ve never seen this before, so why now?”  When I can’t comfortably answer that on my own with material provided by the storytellers, I begin to doubt the sincerity of the effort.
 
Yes, maybe I’m overthinking it, but I still view it as a weakness of the film, not the audience.
​

The End Of All Things(?)
 
Like so many, I could go on, but I won’t at this juncture, largely because I don’t wish to spoil the experience of seeing The Rise Of Skywalker on the silver screen.  It’s an admirable effort – one that tries too hard in some places and too little in others – but still worthy of being seen, especially in cinemas.  Plus, I’ve a whole idea about a series of articles on redemption and what it means in the Lucasfilm universe, but methinks that’s for another time and another place when spoilers can be more openly discussed.
 
Though I’ve said I didn’t care for The Force Awakens (heck, I even hated the film’s title), the flick didn’t quench my thirst for all things Star Wars.  Though I’ve criticized The Last Jedi for feeling more like a bloated video game than it did a theatrical release, I’ve often admitted I had fun with it … in much the same way I would a video game.  And I’ve tried to be as clear with The Rise Of Skywalker as possible without ruining the experience for those yet to partake of what promises to be the last in the initial Star Wars saga: the first half is pretty grand, and the second half is pretty uneven, almost rushed.
 
So rather than dwell on it as the end of all things, I do choose to find hope in a new beginning.
 
Star Wars has always been big on dreams, after all.  Luke Skywalker had them, and – though Rey’s focus always seemed more selfish on finding out who she was – maybe she had them, too.  As much as The Force Awakens narratively undid the hero’s quest of the Original Trilogy, it still delivered the franchise to a new generation of viewers; that film’s gross alone perhaps insures that there’s far more stories to tell in the galaxy far, far away.
 
In the meantime, there’s always the novels, the new Disney streaming services, and comic books.  So long as there’s an audience, there will be Star Wars.
 
And the Force will always be with us …

​Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. is one of those authors who emerged from a certain era in human history (the 1960’s counter-culture movement) whose voice I’ve always struggled to hear clearly.  The few novels of his that I’ve waded through seemed as grounded in bitterness as they were in humor, and I was never able as a reader to reconcile those somewhat polar positions.  Perhaps it’s that I found much of his style a bit too experimental for my tastes or maybe even that I found his particular quest to understand our shared existence a bit too crestfallen; however, I’d never argue against giving his work the time and study it’s due as his remains one of the most distinct of its generation.
 
In the early 1990’s, I attended a speech of his in suburban Chicago, and the man I listened to certainly was the man who had written those sometimes-angry works.  He frowned a lot.  He seemed disinterested with answering questions.  He talked about things in the world that bothered him.  Dare I say that he even seemed a bit resentful of the audience who’d come to hear him speak?  While the event was scheduled to last ninety minutes, the writer himself concluded it after just under sixty minutes when he was asked by a student if he planned to write anything new.
 
“I think I’ve written enough, and it speaks for itself,” he said and walked off stage.
 
To be perfectly honest, I found his “Slaughterhouse-Five, or The Children’s Crusade: A Duty-Dance With Death” occasionally inaccessible … so much so that I even put it down once or twice during reading for an extended break away from it.  This wasn’t due to its subject matter, some perceived negativity, or even its anti-war stance; rather, it was because I just couldn’t ‘get’ into the character of Billy Pilgrim, the perennial milquetoast of the tale.  Having cut my teeth on some of SciFi’s more blustery heroes – the Flash Gordon’s, the Buck Rogers’, the Captain James T. Kirk’s – I wasn’t prepared for the likes of Billy, nor did I much care for him.  Pilgrim was the last person I wanted to discover derring-do with … and now that I’m older (and maybe a bit wiser) methinks that might’ve been part of Vonnegut’s point all along.
 
As a result, I’d avoided watching director George Roy Hill’s 1972 adaptation of the popular novel.  I figured I’d be in for more of the same, and – as it was common knowledge that the motion picture had largely tanked at the box office – I concluded I quite possibly wasn’t missing much.  But I do so love a good film, and I’m thrilled to report that I’ve been proven wrong (again!) as I just completed a full viewing of Arrow Video’s December 2019 Special Edition release of this undisputed masterpiece.
 
For those uninitiated to the story: Billy Pilgrim is a traveler who finds himself somehow ‘unstuck in time,’ leaping through the moments of his life in what appears to be no discernible order with no discernible reason.  Through this existential device, he experiences the life he’s lived again, perhaps eventually finding immortality through his departure from our world by way of an alien abduction which may just deliver him to the life he’s always fantasized possible but never achievable on Earth.
 
If that summation is a bit to swallow, then you really ought to try Vonnegut’s book: the synopsis there isn’t any easier.  Still, Hill’s adaptation succeeds largely because it is accomplished on film: transitions are blended in unique ways that pose small answers as to why the audience is being pulled from one bus stop to the next on the ride that becomes Billy’s life.  In a way similar that chapter breaks help structure a novel, visual fade-outs serve as gateways to fade-ins.  A celebration from one’s past can be intercut with an entirely different one from the future, giving new meaning to both in a manner impossible with words on the printed page.  Remember the adage, “a picture is worth a thousand words?”  Hill and his compatriots accomplish this ten-fold in bringing this journey to life on the silver screen.
​

The only thing missing from the package provided by Arrow Video with this release is, essentially, what it’s all supposed to mean; but that’s quite probably the way even Vonnegut himself would’ve wanted it.  (For the record, the prolific scribe is on record as being downright thrilled with the film.)  His Billy Pilgrim doesn’t react to much here – both in the novel and in the film – and that’s because he’s put in the dubious position of serving entirely as a witness to history.  Rarely does he try to influence it, though there are a few small moments.  Rarely does he attempt to thwart the Fates, though he ultimately seems pleased with where he ends up.  His is the quest of, maybe, just ‘getting by’ with the least amount of pain and/or sacrifice required, with the author firmly settled into the “and so it goes” impression of his original work.  Life is what happens while you’re living it, and Billy is his own living observer and participant.  His journey after all isn’t the hero’s quest, a device heavily relied on in literature.  His is only a journey, and you can make of it what you will.
 
Still, the Arrow release is solid with extras exploring the work of art as well as the place it earned itself in film history.  There’s a great 20 minute ‘appreciation’ with author and critic Kim Newman (do NOT watch it before watching the film if this is your first time, be warned).  There are also a few other shorts which look back at the film’s score, distribution, and the typical behind-the-scenes bits.  There’s also a nice interview with actor Perry King who has a small but critical role in the film as Pilgrim’s son.  And, of course, there’s a commentary track, this one provided by author and critic Troy Howarth: I was a bit disappointed with this as Howarth’s observations tend to be more biographical in nature about the folks involved before and behind-the-screen, oft times letting key moments in the flick go by without so much as an interesting aside or observation on what it may’ve meant … but, still, it’s nice to have something that gives the work the inspection long overdue.
 
The last word?  This release is HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.  If you’re a SciFi junkie like me, then there’s enough in here to keep you interested even though so very much of the film feels far more conventional than it does a genre flick.  If you’re a film nerd (also like me), then there’s more than enough substance to the film, the commentary, and the supplemental materials (though a bit tangential at times) to invest a few hours in watching director Hill and his cast of players work their cinema magic.  And even if you’re seen the film before I suggest that you might want to see it again if for no other reason than to enjoy the merits of this brand new 4K restoration: admittedly, the print is grainy in a few spots, but it all looks great nonetheless.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video provided me with a Blu-ray copy of Slaughterhouse-Five by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review, and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

For those interested in picking up their own copy of this release, Amazon.com has it for sale; and you can follow the link right here.