I've often described 1986's Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome as a movie without a destination.  Briefly, let me explain why.

Its predecessors -- Mad Max (1979) and Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior (1981) -- are two Apocalyptic films that benefit from clear mission statements.  Both of them had a message about the End Times they wanted to deliver -- one about the lengths to which a man can be pushed and the other about how that same man might still find redemption on the broken road -- and both delivered precisely what they set out to do.  Without fanfare and/or excess, they played with the people left at the fall of the world, and yet they still both found a way -- small and big -- to suggest life (of some sort) would go on, and it even might have a purpose that could only be found in our species' plummet into madness and chaos.  Hope prevailed in The Road Warrior, and it did so because some men -- men like Max -- were still willing to accomplish the unthinkable.

​For all of its posturing, Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome felt like the Hollywoodization of Armageddon.  It didn't quite give Max a purpose -- well, other than to a drifter wandering from one stinkhole to another -- and instead turned him into a journeyman who could be hired out to just about anyone for a price.  I say this knowing full well that the goodness in him still forces him onto the right path as the script was written, but it wasn't a trip that felt entirely as relevant as the other films.  In fact, I thought at times it was little more than a retread of what had come before, cheapening an otherwise curious attempt to expand on that franchise by bringing nothing new to the table.

And, yes, it was nice to see Tina Turner on the screen.  Her big baddie -- Auntie Entity -- wasn't quite the force needed to propel Max and his minions into future box office fortune and glory: in fact, the intellectual property pretty much fell at the way side after this adventure -- perhaps understandably so -- only to be resurrected again in grand style with all new faces in 2015 as Mad Max:Fury Road.  But I can't fault Tina for giving it her best.  She brought her characteristic strut to the Apocalypse only as needed, and I believe a stronger script -- one with a clearer narrative purpose -- might've lifted Max to stellar heights for, at least, another picture or two back in the day.

But about Miss Turner?

​Her career remains something worthy of study.  IMDB.com reports that throughout her time in the entertainment business, she amassed an incredible 22 wins along with another 31 nominations.  I'll always remember her as one of those artists there in the early days of MTV -- back in the era when they were truly about music -- and I'll celebrate her time and music for the rest of my days as well.

Alas, none of us lasts forever, and word has reached my desk of her passing today.  I do recall reading something a few months past about her struggles -- this was apparently a long, protracted illness, though I'm unsure on the particulars -- and I believe the article had even lightly suggested she might be nearing the end of her days.

As always, thoughts and prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Tina Turner.  May she forever rest in peace.

-- EZ

​Folks, it isn’t always easy to find something relevant to say about every motion picture.
 
Because I do prefer old films – always have and likely always will – I do exercise the benefits of having so much already written about the features.  I love not only writing about film but equally treasure reading about them, especially articles and columns that teach me something about an artwork’s message, its construction, or its lasting impact.  Scouring the net as much as I do has shown me that we, culturally, all have something to say about the films – big and small – that we find; and these artists have put incredible effort into composing something that they believe personally will reach out and touch us in a way only they can.  Sometimes, it works.  Sometimes, it doesn’t.
 
As a thinker, I find more joy in exploring flicks that fail.
 
Why?  Well, that’s an easy answer.  It gives me a foothold with which to consider what message I believe was intended, and then I can compose my own game plan to document how I personally believe it missed that mark.  That doesn’t make me right – nor does it prove that my hypothesis is flawed in any way – but it presents you – the reader – with a point or two to ponder when you sit down and look at the flick.  I’m not looking to persuade you; rather, I’m only trying to point you in a direction that might suggest relevancy.  As always, you’re free to like what you like … and that’s because preferences are vastly too personal for each of us to be ignored.
 
1973’s Fantastic Planet is a picture I’ve read an awful lot about over the years.  Why, I can even remember – as a little guy – seeing a picture of it in an episode of Starlog Magazine (I believe it was) that intrigued me, wondering what its depicted creatures big and small could all be about.  Well, I’ve finally seen it – thanks, Turner Classic Movies – and I have a little something to say about it that might not quite reconcile with what the artistic masses think of the film.  But stranger things have happened, no?
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 

From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“On a faraway planet where blue giants rule, oppressed humanoids rebel against their machine-like leaders.”
 
Sigh.
 
As can happen from time-to-time, IMDB.com and its countless contributors kinda/sorta get it wrong (to a degree, anyway), and – in the opinion of this reviewer – such is the case today.
 
The (ahem) Fantastic Planet in question – though some may find such particulars unimportant – is called Ygam, and – if I’m being completely fair – it isn’t exactly ruled by the Draags, those aforementioned blue giants.  It is their planet.  This is their home.  Being native to it, I’m not certain why whoever wrote the synopsis did this way, but it’s a bit misleading.
 
The oppressed humanoid rebels – who go by the name of Oms, in the picture – are actually humans from Earth.  As best as I can recount the background, Earth of the future is apparently decimated by some conflict, and – for reasons never quite clear in the draft of this script by Roland Topor and director René Laloux (as adapted from the Stefan Wul novel) – the Draags have apparently forced immigration upon the Oms by bringing them to Ygam.  (Sorry, but if this point was clarified, then I completely missed it.)
 
Therein lies my single greatest concern with Fantastic Planet’s premise: just how the human race got here – if we were indeed transported here – is never addressed, and this omission remains kinda/sorta at odds with everything the viewer learns of the Draags over the course of the ensuing seventy minutes.
 
Now, our cultural betters would likely have a field day with my argument as a good deal of film criticism for Fantastic lies around the allegory of its central message.  From what I’ve come to know (from reading), Topor and Laloux sought to use this particular story as an allegory for the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia (or, at least, that’s what is widely accepted), framing the Oms as the encroached upon Czecks and their Soviet oppressors as the Oms.  Of course, that’s all well and good – again, so far as this viewer is concerned – as the characters, events, and circumstances all fill out their narrative weight just fine across the parable.  (I won’t belabor my review with that in any great detail as it’s out there – in spades! – for those who wish to know more.  Just Google it.)  But lacking a clearer picture as to why the eventually villainous Draags sought to save the human race from extinction – while treating them so poorly on Ygam – doesn’t quite reconcile with the rest of the film.
​

Assuming for a moment that the Draags even have space flight capabilities any longer (there are some suggestions that it’s a technology they’ve let kinda/sorta go into disarray at this point culturally as it’s no longer needed), just how and why they discovered Earth – along with what they saw when they went there – could’ve used a bit of explanation.  (Yes, yes, yes: I realize some of this may’ve been lost in translation, but hear me out.)  For example, if they found our world entirely decimated and looked further then they would’ve found (somewhere) evidence of an intelligent race.  Despite what remained, the human race would still have left a record of invention and innovation.  True, it’s sad that all of our good deeds would still have led to apparently our destroying ourselves, but the sum total of any species should never boil down to a single character flaw, no matter how egregious.
 
So … did the Draags take pity on us because we were such small and small-minded creatures in their eyes?  At this point in the story, humans are viewed as little more than pets – though, honestly, insects would be far more appropriate given the way this story unfolds – and I kept wondering, “Why would any species as advanced as the Draags seek to import a new type of bugs to their world?”  Fantastic’s script makes great bones about the fact that there are both domesticate and wild Oms – again, this highlights the emphasis on the reality that we’re a veritable infestation to their world – so why oh why would they have brought us here?  Especially, why would they have even thought twice about importing us seeing what we did to our own planet?
 
Setting that narrative flaw aside … sure!
 
I’d tend to agree with so much of what’s already been written about Fantastic.  Clearly, there’s an important core message to all of the affairs here, one that’s heavily centered on acceptance.  The Draags seem to deem anything inconvenient to their existence as being unworthy of sharing space, and the depiction of their efforts to – quite literally – wipe out the Oms entirely are exceedingly grim.  (If you haven’t heard, then let me assure you that Fantastic Planet is not an animated films for kids, unless they’re of an age wherein you and they can speak intelligently with one another afterwards.)  That doesn’t quite jive with my thoughts above – if humans are so inconsequential, then why did you bring them here in the first place – but the flick very vividly invests efforts in showing a small-scale genocide very well.
​

As I’ve always said, I don’t like to have to do the heavy lifting (to a degree) when evaluating what a film means.  The reason?  Well, the more I have to do, then the less effective I believe the storytellers made their point.  Yes, it’s nice to have something to think about, but I’ve always argued that great yarns resonate all on their own and don’t require Crib Notes in order to be accessible to everyone.  Fantastic Planet – on the surface – gets an awful lot of respect from scholars, academics, and the like; and I’d never question their commitment to giving this little flick the attention they think it deserves.  My point, solely, is that – the more I think about it – the less some of the secondary elements make sense; not only that, but they get in the way of both deciphering and appreciating the central message – one about powerful ideas surrounding peaceful co-existence and maybe the lengths societies must take to achieve that – and that’s a shame.
 
Those are waters that shouldn’t be muddied.
 
Fantastic Planet (1973) was produced by Argos Films, Les Films Armorial, Institut National de l’Audiovisuel (INA), and a few other participants.  (For a full list, please check IMDB.com.)  The film is presently available for streaming purchase (or physical media) from Amazon.com, HBO/Max, The Criterion Channel, and a host of other platforms.  As for the technical specifications?  I watched a recording of the film on Turner Classic Movies, and the sights and sounds were perfect from start-to-finish.  Lastly, as I watched this entirely on my own as said above, there were no special features for me to consider.  (Suffice it to say, I combed the internet for a handful of articles to learn more about the production.)
 
Recommended, but …
 
My single greatest caution before undertaking Fantastic Planet is to avoid any major research about the film before viewing it.  (A review here and there is OK, but avoid the deep dive.)  Though not a particular confusing film, it certainly gives one something to think about.  At 70 minutes, I’d still caution that the story takes a bit of time to truly get going as so much of the affair plays out a bit more like vignettes strung along for a time until the true conflict emerges.  Once it becomes clear that this is an exploration of cultures in existential conflict (of a sort), then it definitely gets better … though as I tried to be clear I’m not entirely comfortable with the presented reality as so many others were.  A bit dark here and there … and definitely not for kids.

​-- EZ

Of course, it kinda/sorta goes without saying that those of us who were there back in 1983 to experience the original theatrical run of Star Wars: Episode VI - Return Of The Jedi never gave so much as a passing thought to the fact that some day the flick would be celebrating its fortieth birthday, but alas that day has come.  On this day all the way back then, the George Lucas saga more affectionately known as the 'Original Trilogy' finally came to its end.  Luke, Han, and Leia were reunited, and the Rebellion went on the offensive for the first time, opting to take the fight directly to the Galactic Empire, and somebody thought that an allegory for the Ewoks was absolutely necessary at this stage of the game.  And, yes, there was an all-new Death Star even!  So the gang was finally all here, the stage was set, and a big finish was delivered.

I've held back for decades in actually writing my thoughts down -- in proper review fashion -- for the Original Trilogy, mostly because as everyone knows so very, very, very much as been written about these pioneering films.  Though I have promised that -- in my stewardship of SciFiHistory.Net -- I probably do owe readers my full and unblemished thoughts on each of the films, I've not done so as of yet.  Maybe I'll put that in the hopper and finally get to it this year.  As you can imagine, I try to keep my plate full, so revisiting some older classics does get second fiddle.  But I will persevere and see if I can get that done before Jedi's forty-first birthday rolls around.

Without going into any great depths on its anniversary, I will say that -- like so many films -- there were parts that I loved and parts that I thought inferior.  (I do always keep a watchful eye open, you know.)  Some of it felt inspired, and then there were a few developments that didn't quite resonate the way I think some of us -- me included -- expected; but because the sheer weight of what we liked was vastly heavier than some of Jedi's goofier ideas I think it's easy to forgive the little things that got in the way of making it a perfect adventure.  Don't think I was disappointed with it, folks: it's just that -- you know me -- some things do get in the way ... and I've always admitted in this space to never having been a fan of the so-obvious Ewoks.

Despite knowing that this was the end of that Original Trilogy, I think many of us who were serious, serious fans of the franchise from its beginning honestly thought we'd see these characters again on the silver screen.  Capitalism being what it is, I think we did suspect that 20th Century Fox would press George Lucas for more; and then maybe not right away but eventually he'd wear down and come back for perhaps not another full trilogy of Skywalker-specific stories but something reasonably compelling.  How could you not, at this point?  Of course, we were well aware that there was something in Lucas's master plan involving what became the Prequel Trilogy ... and, yet, there had to be more for Luke ... right?  For Leia?  For good ol' Han?  Chewie?  Lando?  The rest of the gang?

Ah ... it would appear -- at least in big screen form -- their time in the limelight truly ended.

Although the Sequel Trilogy resurrected the characters briefly -- only to essentially kill each of them off -- I'm not ashamed to feeling a bit robbed.  With a galaxy so vast and rich as Star Wars, I guess I was still wanting more for and from them.  Anything, really.  Even if it would've been a feature with only one or two of them.  It would've been nice to experience them more in their prime, now that the Empire would've been out of the way just a bit.  (Yes, yes, yes, I know about all of the books and comics, but -- as I said -- I live for the movies.)

Sigh.

It sucks getting old, kids.

In any event, here are a few snaps ...
​

Who knows?

At some point -- maybe even in the near future -- those enterprising creators at Lucasfilm will provide fans like me (and us) exactly what we hope for; and they'll go to the ends of the Earth to utilize the finest CGI technology to give us even grander adventures of this original crew.  I know that word on the street is that Filoni and Favreau are contemplating doing just that -- trust me, I've heard a great deal of it from following a few vlogs.  Still, I'm not as enthusiastic as younger podcasters are these days: Walt Disney is still Lucasfilm's overlord, and they're losing money hand over fist these days.  At some point, Disney+ is likely going to be either cut off from the diminishing money trough or told to cut back to greater lengths.  Then where will we be?  No one wants to watch Star Wars on a Babylon 5 budget, but that may be all we're given.

So in the meantime take a moment today to reflect on the state of Star Wars by celebrating Return Of The Jedi.  Think about what it meant to you.  Whether you were there on this day back in 1983 or you came to it on television or home video, it's a fabulous experience wherein old-fashioned good vs. evil is finally played out in this galaxy.  Anakin Skywalker found a bit of redemption.  A family was reunited.  A second Death Star was stopped in its tracks.  And Ewoks were, largely, given all the credit.
​

They say that birth, death, and taxes are the only constants, and I suppose -- from a certain standpoint -- that's very true.  While I think that life is full of many, many other pursuits -- some of which each of us hopes might be universal -- but there is no greater truth than the fact that none of us 'gets out alive,' as they say.  At least, not in the fleshly iteration ...

I'll have to chalk this one up to yet one more celebrity death I just didn't expect: word just reached my desk this morning of actor Ray Stevenson's passing.

To be fair, I'm not entirely certain Stevenson really ever took center stage in anything I can recall.  He was always a supporting player -- or, even, part of an ensemble that was made stronger by his presence -- but his was a face and an energy that I'll admit happily I always liked.  Though HBO's Rome wasn't his first work, I think it was definitely the one wherein I saw the potential of his true gifts: being physically imposing is one thing, but having the chops to truly pull of the whole gamut of emotions is another ... and Stevenson certainly could turn on the charm when he needed.

Still, 2008's Punisher: War Zone did give him top billing, at least; and -- even though I thought this particular tale in the wider Frank Castle universe was a bit middling -- I liked him in the role.  It fit him comfortably -- maybe too comfortably -- and he managed to give this Marvel antihero a bit of magic on screens big and small.  And his work in Marvel's Thor (2011) and Thor: The Dark World (2013) also gave him the chance to play a character bigger-than-life.  While he might not have had the presence of others in the picture, he definitely held his own, as they say, when the script put him to good use.

I'm also a bit puzzled: I believe I'd seen him in the forthcoming trailers for Disney+'s Ahsoka series, but a quick look at IMDB.com doesn't even mention the property.  Here's hoping that they were far enough along with his work in the streaming enterprise that they don't have to retool anything and/or everything, as I was definitely looking forward to what level of Dark Jedi menace he was bringing to the table.

Ach ... gone way too soon.

Prayers and well wishes are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Ray Stevenson.  May he forever rest in peace.

-- EZ

While his background may not draw the attention of the casual Science Fiction and Fantasy fan, those of us who enjoyed many, many wares know full well that actor Paul Winfield was no slouch.  In fact, when it came to All Things Genre, the man certainly visited some of the biggest franchises and managed to leave an incredible impact no matter the size of the role.
 
Indeed, the Gene Roddenberry property knows that fundamental fact all too well.  Trekkers, Trekkies, and general Trek enthusiasts remember the man for his incredible one-two punch: he appeared as (sigh) ill-fated ‘Captain Terrell’ who falls to no less than the machinations of Khan Noonien Singh aboard Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan (1982) only then to be cast nearly a decade later as equally ill-fated ‘Captain Dathon’ aboard the stellar Star Trek: The Next Generation episode, “Darmok.”  Let it be known that nobody but nobody commands a powerful death scene like Winfield, and Trek certainly proves the man earned a legacy in the stars.
 
Still, that wasn’t his only foray into SciFi, Fantasy, and Horror.
 
According to his profile on IMDB.com:
 

• In 1973, Winfield shared the screen with no less William Shatner himself aboard the telefilm The Horror At 37,000 Feet for CBS Television Network.
• In 1984, the actor enjoyed some newfound exposure when James Cameron brought him into the wide, wide world of The Terminator.  In the role of ‘Detective Ed Traxler,’ he was one of the only few characters to believe that there very well might be something to this whole story Sarah Connor was telling the police, though he still paid dearly in the end.
• In 1988, director Wes Craven put Winfield through his marks when the actor joined the cast of The Serpent And The Rainbow for Universal Pictures.
• In 1995, the SciFi veteran enjoyed a guest spot aboard the “GROPOS” episode of the popular Babylon 5.  Aboard the show, he played ‘General Richard Franklin,’ father to series’ regular Richard Biggs’ ‘Dr. Stephen Franklin.’
• That same year, director Peter Markle cast Winfield for the part of ‘Dr. Akada’ in the SciFi/Telefilm White Dwarf for Francis Ford Coppola’s American Zoetrope film company.
• In 1996, Winfield was part of the cast for Tim Burton’s wild and crazy alien invasion satire Mars Attacks based (very loosely) on themes from the Topps Trading Card series from 1962.

 
While there are a few other entries, I think those big ones certainly reflect the man’s abilities on camera.  He was almost always cast in the guise of some authority, and he played those moments – big and small – to perfection.

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

​-- EZ

What does Sherlock Holmes have to do with Science Fiction and Fantasy?
 
Well, nothing directly, other than perhaps being the finest working example of ‘deductive reasoning’ available to mankind.  And – now that I think of it – Star Trek: The Next Generation’s Commander Data kinda/sorta worshipped the character, and his idolatry was even featured in an episode or two of the original program.  And – now that I think even a bit further – there was a short-lived derivation of the character in animated fashion that brought him front-and-center to the future: it was called, aptly, Sherlock Holmes In The 22nd Century, and it lasted a glorious 26 puzzle-filled episodes.
 
No, what I was initially ruminating over was that Sherlock Holmes’ creator – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle – has never quite been given the measure of respect owed in genre circles … as one of his seminal properties The Lost World perhaps pioneered not only a franchise as well as an entire reasonably popular sub-genre to all of Fantasy.  And, yes, I bring this up because those of you who’ve already checked out today’s citation page for May 22nd know full well that Doyle was born on this day all the way back in the year 1859.
 
So … only the happiest of birthday wishes go out to the scholar, physician, and author.  Here’s hoping that wherever he still might exist in the wide, wide hereafter he’s reading this humble post and smiling.
 
But … back to his The Lost World, for a moment …
 
According to Wikipedia.org, The Lost World was first published in serialized format between April and November of 1912, introducing such characters to Fantasy as Professors Summerlee and Challenger, Lord John Roxton, and Edward Malone.  For those of you who haven’t read the novel, the whole affair begins with a challenge: Challenger has been to the ‘lost world’ – a place in deepest, darkest Africa where creatures of the Prehistoric Era still exist – but is being scoffed at by his fellow academics who insist any such place is possible.  Never one to be laughed at, Challenger puts his money where his mouth is, offering to lead an expedition – along with a few of his significant naysayers – to show them his proof.  The trip not only confirms the place’s existence, but the group brings back evidence (a Pterodactyl and some diamonds) that makes them heroes and extremely wealthy men, at that.
 
As an inspiration, The Lost World has enjoyed a few significant film adaptations, along with further direct-to-video interpretations and even a few television series to boot.  The book’s Wikipedia.org page also denotes that there have been several radio (drama) adaptations that have explored and expanded on events Doyle originally imagined over a century ago, proving that good stories never go out of style.  For what it’s worth, the Australia-produced The Lost World television series (which lasted three seasons) has been dismissed as being a somewhat campy rendering, but taken in the spirit of putting a serialized action drama through its proper paces for TV audiences I think it’s still an interesting diversion.
 
Though he’s no longer with us – having passed away on July 7, 1930, from an apparent heart attack – Doyle’s work continues to inspire creators and audiences around the world.  I’d venture to guess that’s he’s far more well known for the escapades of his singularly intelligent detective, and there’s nothing wrong with that.  Being one to champion All Things Genre, I thought I’d pen a quick reflection to remind readers that we owe him as much a debt as does all of literature for dabbling in our realm in such a huge, huge way.

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

​-- EZ

Important SciFiHistory.Net Links:

A Review Of 1925's The Lost World

Just about when I think I'm finally out, something happens that pulls me back in!

Yes, yes, yes, folks: I heard the news.  And -- might I say -- it is sad news, indeed.  It may not be all that surprising, and it certainly isn't anything earth-shaking, though some may disagree.  Word has reached my humble desk -- actually, it did yesterday -- about the final closure of Walt Disney's Star Wars themed hotel.  Honestly, I know it has a more specific name, but I cared so little about it that I couldn't quote said name to you.  Galaxy's Cruiser?  Galaxy's End?  Something like that.

In any event, I have seen a handful of vlogs that talked about it both last night and this morning.  Many on the Information Superhighway are saying that this might be the final nail in the coffin that is the fastly imploding career of Kathleen Kennedy, but -- again -- as I don't have a dog (really) in that fight I'll just have to agree with all of you "in the know."  It would seem to me that if they were willing to blow $2 billion to develop a hotel exactly the way she wanted it and maybe even blow another $1 billion to shoot and market the latest and (ahem) greatest Indiana Jones film that the powerbrokers at Walt Disney and Lucasfilm must think she's doing something right.

​No.  I couldn't tell you what that is that she's doing right.

I've swapped emails with a few folks today, and since I received another one I thought I'd pop in here very briefly with a few thoughts.  It ain't gonna be profound, though, because I really don't think about Walt Disney's version of Star Wars really being all that deep.

So ...

For starters, I think some of you on the web might be vastly younger than I am because drawing a comparison to this H-O-T-E-L and Paramount Parks' Star Trek: The Experience is flawed in vastly more ways than I can count.  For the record, that Las Vegas A-T-T-R-A-C-T-I-O-N (not H-O-T-E-L) lasted a full ten years, and Galaxy Roof Inn didn't even last a year.  So a ten year E-X-H-I-B-I-T really shouldn't be anything that you feel is fodder to justify your position.  But, hey, if you want to make that argument, I'll leave a light on for ya.

Star Trek: The Experience was an exhibit that had a ride and basically a few shops and a restaurant.  Yes, it was Star Trek themed -- and brilliantly done, I might add -- and it most decidedly had the feel of walking the Promenade aboard Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.  Whatever this Star Wars hotel was, I believe, was aboard a fictional spaceship -- none that was actually established within the wider Star Wars mythology -- so again I'm not so sure you're approaching the whole topic as apples to apples.

I say that as one who stayed at the Marriott Hotel, so I know -- for a fact -- that The Experience wasn't a hotel attraction.  It was just an attraction.  It was located inside a hotel, but therein lies the biggest difference.

​Secondly, you don't have to be a brain surgeon to ask a fundamentally simple question: "How many folks can logically afford a $6,000 not-even-two-full-day stay?"  I've read and listened to a lot of folks who thought the price was reasonably, and they were somehow drawing comparisons to cruise ships (???).  Having not done that in my lifetime, I really can't speak to the comparison, other than to point out that from all I've read cruise ships actually TAKE you somewhere scenic wherein you get off the boat and see some other sights.  That wasn't the case with Budget Galaxy Inn: you got there, you stayed there, and you did whatever they had programmed for you ... so, again, no.

​Lastly, I think it kinda/sorta goes without saying but I'll say it: who wanted to spend their time celebrating Star Wars in the Sequel Era?  I'm not gonna go down that whole rabbit hole again in a post -- is that even necessary? -- but Rey, Poe, and Finn?  They just didn't quite resonate culturally the way that Luke, Han, and Leia did.  I don't care what your arguments are.  I don't care that they haven't had as many years to build a following.  If that's your position, then why would anyone center a $2 billion hotel around them?  You can't have an argument both ways -- you can't say they're classic characters that audiences loved so the hotel was a smart idea only then say that the hotel didn't spend ENOUGH time on them and win the day.  Either it was a bad idea -- from the start -- and it was executed poorly along the way ... or it was nothing.

As I've always tried to keep an open mind on these topics -- especially given how controversial something as simple as Star Wars has always been -- I'm not even troubled by the place's closure.  While, sure, it might've been nice to go there, I'm far less inclined to spend the equivalent of a house down payment just to have a bed to sleep in for one night along with some "free" snacks.  I have better things to spend money on than that, and I think all of fandom should always think twice about throwing serious scratch at corporate boondoggles like this.  I'd not planned on going there, and I really had no interest, mostly because of the price and secondarily because it was heavily into the Sequel stuff.

Not for me.

But if you went, liked it, that's great.

To each his own ...

​-- EZ

I was a late bloomer to the goodness of the classic samurai picture.
 
As I’ve mentioned before, I grew up in a small town essentially in the middle of nowhere.  Things like foreign films didn’t exist.  There were no arthouse theaters in my one-horse town.  Likewise, the small private college I attended really didn’t do much to change that aspect of my reality; while the Speech and Theater program did have some film classes, the bulk of that curriculum was centered around American-made classics, so I just had so little exposure to these films.  Granted, I did start to find more titles in the late 1980’s and early 1990’s: a brief career in video retail swung open this door slowly, and I was glad to finally have access to an increasingly global library of content to inspire my film likes and dislikes.
 
So much has been written over the years suggesting how much the quintessential American Western owes to the Japanese samurai film and vice versa, so I don’t feel the need to explore that further.  Suffice it to say, these two genres have so much in common that some might even find it difficult to tell them apart.  The bottom line – so far as I’ve ever considered it – is that each has something to offer the other, and talented storytellers on both sides of the ocean have maximized crossover appeal to benefit of the audience.
 
Today’s treat – Hideo Gosha’s Samurai Wolf II: Hell Cut – is a picture I’ve long been aware of but unable to locate a suitable copy of for viewing and review purposes.  So a hearty thanks goes out to Film Movement for continuing to bridge the cultural gap and deliver some of the lesser known productions to life again, especially on home video (as opposed to streaming). Don’t get me wrong: I’m all-in on streaming when I can, but – being as old school as I am – I still prefer physical media as it gives me greater opportunity to spend time with a gem like this.
 
And, yes, it is a gem, as is its predecessor.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Kiba is caught in the intrigue between a crooked goldmine owner, a cynical, betrayed swordsman, a manipulative lady and an arrogant dojo master.”
 
As I am not a professed master of the samurai film (as its own genre), I can say that I might occasionally struggle to make sense of a particular story.
 
It might be more appropriate to point out that I’m no expert on Japanese history, either, and I’ve seen several pictures wherein certain people, places, and events of that nation’s past figure in prominently (or prominently enough) that I lack a clear understanding of why something’s done, who the person of interest is, or what effect a development might have culturally.  In some ways, this isn’t dissimilar from taking a great American comedy and showing it to, say, a Russian or an Indian or a Chinese person.  Because of cultural differences, they may not ‘get the joke’ much less understand why something is funny.  The bottom line is that I’ve accepted that sometimes stories just don’t translate the way they could (especially through subtitling and dubbing), and this might leave some to get a bit lost in the shuffle.
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Hell Cut is a vastly more intricately involved affair than was Kiba’s first film.  Its script – credited to Gosha, Norifumi Suzuki, and Kei Tasaka – incorporates more history, and some of this suggests there may be more at work here than just the classic power struggle.  (That may not be the case, but as I’m no expert on said history, I’ll leave the observation as is.)  While it only has a few key locations, it definitely incorporates a broader cast, and – as it’s my experience that traditional samurai stories are told against a backdrop of constantly shifting alliances – this means that you have to follow it much more closely.  Such depth did require me to back up to an earlier scene – I needed to clarify who a character was that appears seemingly out of nowhere, but I was mistaken – and that’s likely what I struggled with.  What can I say?  Yours truly is human after all.
 
Still, Isao Natsuyagi elevates his acting game here as there’s much more for him to react to, and some of this even ties to giving his ronin a stronger background.  We learn about his youth and his earlier days, mostly because he meets a criminal on the way to his trial named Magobei (played by Ko Nishimura) who resembles Kiba’s father, thus making this a more personal tale than the first picture.  Nishimura definitely turns in some good marks as a swordsman who’s apparently been double-crossed by bandits he was recently partnered with, but as the picture wears on it grows increasingly difficult to understand what he’s truly wanting to accomplish here.  Yes, he’s understandably bent on revenge, but yet he stops short once once or twice from dealing a true death blow to adversaries.  In the end, I think his conflict needed a bit more obviousness and a bit less subtext.
 
Furthermore, Hell Cut delivers not one but two compelling female players to flesh out this wider conflict.  Kiba rescues the young and pretty Oteru (Rumiko Fuji) from would-be assailers in the opening, only for the samurai to quickly learn she’s not quite of her right mind.  She vacillates between being somewhat bereft to that of a frenzied state with little notice, and – before he can reach common ground – she vanishes into the hills.  Later – on the road to town – Kiba meets Oren (Yuko Kusunoki), a dastardly and deceitful woman who’ll ‘hitch her wagon’ to any man who can be as dangerous as she is.  Needless to say, these two females come into play throughout the entire running length of Hell Cut, and both either deliberately or accidentally spell trouble for our hero in ways even he couldn’t have imagined.
 
Thankfully, Gosha has pulled back on some of his stylistic tendencies displayed in the first film.  The bulk of this project is a bit more routine, with the slow-motion and freeze frame trickery used sparingly by comparison.  While it made for a better viewing experience for this reviewer, there were still small pieces of the story that just didn’t feel as organic.  It’s still worth one’s time – at a lean 72 minutes – and has a helluva lot to offer.  It just requires a bit more focus than I expected.
 
Samurai Wolf II: Hell Cut (1967) was produced by Toei Tokyo.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good people at Film Movement.  As for the technical specifications?  After a quick review of the Film Movement website, I’m not seeing any information regarding whether or not these were new scans of existing material, so I can’t comment on that.  I can say that the film looks and sounds fabulous from start-to-finish, though some viewers might believe that there’s a loss of audio (on occasion) due to stylistic choices director Gosha employed.  (FYI: there isn’t, and that sudden silence was part of his master plan.)
 
Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  The disc includes a video short exploring Gosha’s career (I believe the subject interviewed is actually Gosha’s daughter), and the collection includes a 20-page booklet exploring some of the same.  While Samurai Wolf (1966) – also on the disc – comes with an audio commentary track, there’s sadly no additional materials concentrating on the sequel.  (For my take on Samurai Wolf and its commentary, you can check out my review here.)
 
Highly recommended!
 
Samurai Wolf II: Hell Cut (1967) is a meatier flick than its predecessor, largely because its plot is a bit more complex and the script actually gives Kiba a modest origins story.  (Don’t worry: it’s not all that distracting, and it has a very telling reason for doing so that incorporates into a Kiba/Magobei’s relationship.)  Still, there were parts of it that I didn’t find all that interesting, and I couldn’t say why specifically.  The performances are better in many ways, and the cast is generally fabulous with what they’ve provided.  Still, I think its lack of a central villain held it back in some ways, and – as I was never quite able to get a handle on Magobei’s motivations – a few sequences failed to resonate.  What can I say?  Sometimes this happens with foreign releases.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Movement provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Samurai Wolf 1 & 2 by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

Yes, yes, and yes: folks, I know -- all too well -- just how cynical I can sometimes be.

Honestly, it's been an issue for me my entire life, so I can assure all of you that I'm definitely aware of it.  While I could go into a 1,000 word essay about the circumstances of my youth and the resulted upbringing, I just try each and every day to find something good to say about not only myself but also the world around me ... and -- as you know -- most of that includes my sounding off on film, television, and more.  These forms of arts speak to me in ways that I like to write about, and -- if nothing else -- penning a reflection about a certain project -- be it good, bad, or ugly -- is my own form of therapy that helps to keep me sane in these troubled times that we call life.

But, yes, I definitely know cynical when I see it, and 1997's horribly tepid The Lost World: Jurassic Park finally had me losing faith in Steven Spielberg as a storyteller.

Essentially -- and feel free to disagree with me as so many of you do -- I saw the film as little more than a tired theatrical rehash of the first picture's vastly better moments.  Gone was the emphasis on true thrills and chills owed to actually caring about central characters, and -- as best as I can tell you was intended in its place -- was the usual Hollywood messaging about how science can be bad, especially when it's attached to pure exploitation.  Well, the same could be said for this tripe: capitalism -- when executed with bringing little to nothing new to the table -- is equally nefarious.

​That's how this second foray into Jurassic Park mythology felt: a cash grab.

Hey, hey, hey!  Don't get distracted now!  I'm not saying it wasn't a complete and utter waste of time.  All I am trying to convey here is that the first picture clearly had a purpose and a beating heart.  As a franchise, I think Jurassic has always had some mighty prehistoric legs to begin with; and that's been proven over the years with revisits to this realm of Fantasy.  But when all of that magic is stripped away and you're left with just one sequence after another that resembles nothing more than -- say -- Friday The 13th with dinosaurs, then what's the real attraction?  The Lost World felt like a commercial blunder whose sole attempt was box office receipts when it should've been yet one more examination of science-gone-awry and mankind paying the consequences for its hubris.  (Yes, we did learn that in the first one, but what else is there to say about science-gone-awry?)

And because it felt derivative ... because it felt lazy ... because it felt at times even campy and uninspired ... I cannot put the blame at the feet of anyone but Steven Spielberg.  He was the grand marshal to this whole affair, and I expected him of all people to know better before going back to the well so quickly.
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Over the years, it's been well documented -- especially by folks far more learned than I am -- about how George Lucas's original Star Wars began a trend in Hollywood that still endures to this day: when studio executives see a box office success, they set about trying to imitate it mercilessly.  What A New Hope launched was a never-ending stream of sometimes vastly inferior stories all made up and packaged to minimally look like it was Star-Wars-like; and this was done solely to exploit what Han, Luke, and Leia earned so well.  Yes, yes, yes: there may've been a minor gem in there, but more often than not these films were clearly inferior, never attempting to match the Lucas but instead separate you from your wallet.

That's ultimately how The Lost World: Jurassic Park made me feel.  It was merely an attempt to earn sold solid green on the back of what had come before.  Spielberg's involvement in such a commercial venture felt cheap, and I'll likely never forgive him for this one.

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

-- EZ
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Regular readers of SciFiHistory.Net know that I have a low tolerance for movies that mix politics with their messaging.

Look: it's not that I abhor politics because anyone who follows me on Twitter or deep inside SciFiHistory.Net's many, many, many pages and posts, it's true that I'm probably as political as the next person.  Each of us has something -- a cause, a belief, a position -- that we like to sound off on every now and then.  I think that's part-and-parcel of just being a human being: we like to discuss things, and sometimes those things can lead to controversies.  My point is that in my time watching films I've seen far too many actors, actresses, directors, and screenwriters try to monopolize their screen time with unnecessary messaging.  When that messaging either gets in the way of a good story or causes the flick to have lessened focus, then it's poorly done.  If these folks are serious about their commitment to whatever that issue is, then I think they'd be better off sticking in the realm of the traditional documentary.  Use that format to go off and expose whatever abuses need the light of day shone on them, but please please please keep social messaging to a minimum.

Still, there are times when I think a director and a screenwriter and the talent achieve a respectable balance.  In these rare cases, they do -- in fact -- come together around a premise and present it in such a way that the central principle is both understandable and relatable.  Again, don't get me wrong, but there are some things that happen in this wide, wide world that truly are so far away from you and I that it just can't fathom why anyone would think it requires my particular attention.  If you're passionate about it, Mr. Actor, then quit your job and spend what remains of your days fighting for it.  Isn't that what Mr. Actor would tell you and I to do were something important to us?  But -- as I said -- I think blending sentiments with sentimentality can be done ... especially when it's as seamless as it was in John Badham's Cold War thriller WarGames (1983).

​The election of Ronald Reagan had raised fears to all new heights in the early 1980's as our cultural betters were damn sure convinced the actor-turned-politician was going to end life as we know it by ushering in a full-blown nuclear war with the United States and Russia.  You couldn't turn on the television -- you couldn't pick up a newspaper and/or a magazine -- without one or more of those pundits preaching about how Reagan's ascendacy to one of the highest offices in the world could only spell D-O-O-M to those who knew just how and when to read the tea leaves.  Sitting here at my P.C. and writing this column decades later, it's very clear just how wrong they were, but back then nuclear annihilation -- predicated on global thermonuclear war -- was all the rage, and progressives couldn't stop warning us of it.

​Because Hollywood "cares," mind you, these elites ushering in a plethora of projects that were intended to show the voting U.S. public just what curse they had unleashed on all of mankind.  While most of these wares were dismissed because -- quite frankly -- they were crafted with too much alarmist circumstances and rhetoric, there are a small handful of motion pictures that were very good.  And -- for the record -- I say that they were "very good" because they didn't let their message overwhelm the emotional crux of just telling a good story.  That's what WarGames did uniquely well, and I've always thought much of this is owed to director John Badham's participation in the production.  As a director, he'd always dealt -- in my mind -- with characters first; and this meant that there was a humanity always running beneath the main plotline of WarGames that other pictures just never had.
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Ultimately, I don't think audiences are opposed to stories that involve or invoke politics or political messages.  As I said above, I think we all like to talk about these things.  I think many of us like to be educated about the world outside and around us, and -- always trying to be good stewards -- we take the news of the day with the requisite seriousness that we believe it deserves.  Storytellers might push a bit too hard at times -- beating that drum might be their only real interest in life -- and it's on these occasions that folks tend to 'check out,' as it were.  We don't like to be told what to do.  None of us.  When that line is crossed, we're less likely to come away from a picture with an appreciable understanding of the issues and far more likely to dismiss it.

WarGames -- for all its posturing -- straddled that fine line quite nicely.  I'd even argue that -- as Cold War thrillers go -- it's arguably one of the most relatable because we'd like to see a little bit of ourselves in its central heroes.  We're all wide-eyed about saving the planet -- as Matthew Broderick's character David does in the last reel -- and maybe contemporary screenwriters would do well to revisit this classic to learn a few lessons about their craft ... and how to do it respectfully.

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

-- EZ
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