Ok.  Right off the bat let me assure you that I am not going to do a full review of Wonder Woman 1984 at this time and, quite possibly, maybe ever.  This isn't to say that I've nothing to add: rather, it's that I don't honestly believe I have anything substantive to sway one's opinion in any possible direction, which in many respects, yes, I do feel that's the job of a critic.  Anyone can sound off on a movie -- what was liked, what wasn't, etc. -- but it's those who practically engage in debating why you should see something versus why it isn't worth the time I find of merit.

The short skinny is that WW84 deserves to be seen, and then you can make up your mind on whether it was a worthwhile endeavor.  Personally, I think it was, though the sum of its pieces leaves an awful lot to be desired.

The wifey and I saw it on Christmas Day.  We actually tried to see it in theaters, but the little auditoriums in the vacation spot where we were holed up was already sold out (of every showing), so we instead signed on to HBO Max and watched it in the comfort and privacy of our little bungalow.  I'm glad we did, as we probably would've been fairly pissed had we paid real money to see it on the big screen.

The chief problem I had with all of it was that it was a narrative overload: there was simply too much stuff going on and not all of it was truly relevant to the story.  WW84 felt like three films rolled into one -- the Max Lord flick, the Cheetah flick, and the Steve/Diana flick.  Yes (haters, I was watching close enough to see how they all intertwined, thank you very much: my issue is that they did so ONLY because the script was structured like that, meaning these were some 'forced' connections and, thus, didn't flow as easily as they should have.

The script from Patty Jenkins, Geoff Johns, and David Callaham covered way too much ground.  At times, Max Lord didn't even feel like a necessary component of the film -- his bits were somewhat campy and occasionally nebulous.  When magic is your central theme behind the villainy, it helps to have every possible element of it ironed out perfectly: as a writer, you're asking viewers to suspend their disbelief already because -- well -- it's magic, and Pedro Pascal's character kinda/sorta broke his own rules a bit too often.  Heck, Lord even admitting he was "breaking the rules" in order to create Wiig's final transformation into Cheetah -- an event that came far too late in the picture to be as big and brash as it could've been -- and magic loses its luster when it can be so easily tweaked for convenience.

In fact, I could make an argument that the film would've worked better by simply cutting Lord from it entirely: have Wiig be the sole villain, dial back all of the worldwide wishing, and just give me a damn good confrontation between Wonder Woman and Cheetah.  That would've been a bit more pleasing to me as WW84 felt like the 90's Batman movies that -- for reasons I never quite understood or agreed with -- seemed to require two, three, or four villains, either stealing precious screen time from the hero or bloating the flick to unnecessary lengths because of all of these backstories.  At some point, too much weight held this Wonder down, and no amount of action sequences or proper sentiments could lift it back up.

A lot of defense I've read online about the film tends to center on its "tone."  I can't tell you the number of times I've read "the film's heart was in the right place" or some other such nonsense.  Sure, it's nice to have a superhero motion picture that isn't all heavy and dark -- I'm pointing at you, Christopher Nolan, as well as the last few installments of the Marvel Movie Universe -- but heroic films tend to require large stakes.  The world tends to be at risk.  The universe, as we know it, stands at a crossroads.  If it didn't, then we wouldn't need a superhero to save us, would we?

My problem with "tone" is that it's entirely circumstantial: much has also been written about how Diana's sleeping with the man because she believes he's her love Steve Trevor was wrong, and, yes, I had some issues with that, too.  No, I wouldn't equate it as rape, like so many have; but the man -- not Steve -- clearly didn't give his consent, so where's all the support for "tone" now?  That's what I mean about it being circumstantial: defenders point to the "tone" when it suits their particular viewpoint but ignore it when it doesn't serve the argument.  Following that flawed logic maybe Jeffrey Dahmer wasn't such a bad guy 'cause he culled the herd a bit, thus combatting global climate change.

And the "tone" perspective has been used constantly to compare WW84 to Superman - The Movie (1978).  Well, having been there to witness the original Superman film on the silver screen, I can say that such comparison has merit but Superman broke his father's rules by changing Lois Lane's destiny, turning back time, and undoing an earthquake.  It was entirely a selfish thing to do.  Those of us who know a thing or two about the movie know that the screenplay originally led right into Superman II, with Kal-El's flawed choice to save Lois causing the Kryptonian supervillains to be released from the Neutral Zone, a stroke of narrative genius if you ask me!  Break the rules and suffer the consequences!  Alas, it wasn't meant to be as Warner Bros.'s shenanigans forced a break between the pictures.

Contrasting the two films, Diana Prince doesn't exactly break any rules by 'wishing' Steve Trevor were still alive.  (It isn't as if she knew her wish -- a harmless gesture we've all engaged in -- was going to reap any results.)  Once he's back, she gets to live a little of what the two of them missed in their first rodeo, but she inevitably gives him up once he tells her its for the greater good.  Remember: she didn't choose in the film as the way it was played was that Steve made the choice for her, and she consented.  It's a sacrifice, but it wasn't entirely 'earned.'  Such sacrifice is more akin to Superman II, where Kal-El has to sacrifice his love for Lois Lane in order to regain his Earthly powers and save the day.  Maybe it's heartbreaking, but she already knew (based on the events of the first film) that it wasn't life-ending in any way.

​So, tonally, I don't see how WW84 compares to the first Superman.  Similar sequences do not necessarily establish "tone."

But ... I kept asking why bring Steve back from the dead in the first place?  Reanimating characters -- however it's accomplished -- is always risky, and I believe it should only be done if and when doing so adds something to the character's relationships.  As much as I thought about Steve's resurrection, I couldn't find any substantive reason to do it.  Nothing was changed in his and Diana's courtship (other than the sex).  Yes, he experienced some gaga moments in seeing how life had evolved in the decades since his demise; and that sense of wonder was interesting.  Yet, just like in the first film, Steve sacrifices himself for life as we know it, and Diana's left pining both times.  No change.  No growth.  So why do it?  And how are we going to bring him back again for WW3?  Or will we?

Suffice it to say, no, I didn't like the film.  Yes, it had some good sequences.  Yes, it had some solid performances.  But it was still a jumbled mess.

​​Think what you will, but monster movies have always been a hard sell.
 
Little known fact: even the most popular monster movies from cinema history – those populating the Universal Pictures library of the 1930’s and going by such landmark names as Dracula, Frankenstein, and the Wolfman – were practically forgotten by audiences … that is until the popular comedy duo Abbott and Costello revived them as co-stars for a series of film adventures.  Suddenly, monsters found themselves in vogue; and the 1950’s saw a bit of a resurgence with Universal expanding its line-up to include the Creature from the Black Lagoon.
 
Still, audiences have for reasons unknown traditionally shied away from turning monster movies into big bucks at the box office; so perhaps it shouldn’t come as any surprise that a little something-something called Tremors failed to make much impact when it was originally released in early 1990.  (Tremors cratered, in its own way.)  The film came out with little fanfare and disappeared as quickly; I do remember the wifey and I finally stumbling across it at a neighborhood bargain theater, so we were one of the lucky few able to behold its glory on the silver screen.  And we loved it!  We couldn’t believe more people hadn’t discovered it …
 
… and thirty years later the film continues to dig deep into our collective consciousness.  Granted, the explosion of the home video rental business of the 1990’s unearthed this gem for a growing number of homebodies looking for something they’d missed at the cineplex.  Tremors fit the bill perfectly – the flick’s flawless mix of moxie, comedy, and monstery goodness struck a chord with countless viewers who thought they were the first to discover it – and ‘the instant classic’ was born.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers solely necessary for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers who 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 IMDB.com: “Natives of a small isolated town defend themselves against strange underground creatures which are killing them one by one.”
 
Tremors is that rare slice of perfection, ironic as it is that ‘Perfection’ is the name of the small isolated town featured in the motion picture.  Arguably, it’s perfectly conceived, perfectly timed, and perfectly executed.  In one sense, it’s only natural that Universal Picture’s marketing department would have a bit of trouble coming up with a way to frame its story for the coming attractions (after all, how often is one tasked with advertising perfection?); but – in their defense – it’s also become all too easy to blame the marketers for a picture’s failure to translate into box office gold.  The film came out in January, 1990, and the post-holiday box office season (i.e. January and February) have traditionally been known as the ‘dumping grounds’ for films the studios didn’t or couldn’t work into a more favorable release window.  I’d argue the decision to hoist Tremors up that particular flagpole was probably their single greatest mistake.  While I can’t prove that a summer slot (maybe an August sleeper?) would’ve earned Kevin Bacon a wider audience, I do believe it would’ve had a better opportunity to be found the way some features are while others aren’t.
 
But I digress …
 
Tremors isn’t any one thing to any viewer.  Part-Comedy, Part-SciFi, and Part-Horror is a daunting combination for any single picture; and digging deeper shows that, yes, marketing would be an uphill battle.  Comedies tend to score better with audiences when they’re billed with leading comic actors, and Tremors has none to its roster.  Science Fiction tends to involve space ships, blasters, and trips into the deep dark; and yet Tremors’ singular aliens are rarely fully seen as they live primarily beneath the surface.  Lastly, Horror features tend to be shot in tight frame, with a hot young cast, and usually under the cover of night, while Tremors is shot in some wide open vistas, has an ensemble populated with all ages, and takes place in the bright, desert sunlight.  In this case, sure, it’s easy to conclude that the usual marketing tricks probably would’ve done little good: everything about this ‘little film that could’ went against the grain of established rules.
 
And perhaps that’s exactly why the film works for countless fans around the world: it isn’t what audiences had come to expect from any single genre, instead choosing to burrow its way with grit and determination, much like the flick’s singular handymen played by Bacon and the delightful Fred Ward.
 
Thirty years later, the film continues to delight.  Arrow Video has celebrated it with nothing short of an incredible assortment of special features and an all-new 4K restoration.  Much of these new extras invest a fair amount of speculation into why the film didn’t do better in its first go-round in theaters – a common dissection for films which find a new life on home video – but so far as this viewer is concerned it’s all academic.  You can’t prove why something failed – you can’t prove a negative; all you can do is speculate, and everyone involved in any significant way speculates here until the graboids come home.  Sure, it’s interesting fodder, but fodder nonetheless.
 
As I’ve remarked in reviews of this sort before, fans should have immeasurable respect for the packages Arrow puts together for these special films.  The company is seriously unrivaled in this business – in many cases, they’re in a league of their own – and Tremors gets the gold star treatment for brand-spanking-new content including interviews, commentary, behind-the-scenes featurettes (some new, some old), and a host of other associated tidbits the company’s die-hard aficionados unearthed.  This collection goes further by including some incredible lobby card reproductions (postcard sized), an all-new Tremors poster (featuring the art from their release), and even a graboid diagram with all its biological specs.  You want more?  Arrow provides with an impressive 60-page booklet examining the groundbreaking original film as well as the franchise as a whole … or were you unaware that Tremors is one of more successful direct-to-video franchises in history?

There’s more – in fact, there’s much more – but I’ll leave some of the surprises to those of you who choose to pick up this Special Edition release.  It’ll keep you busy for hours.
 
Highest Recommendation Possible.
 
As I said, the wifey and I were one of those rare few who had the good fortune of experiencing Tremors in its original theatrical run.  We loved it then, and we probably laughed even more through this viewing.  Perfection comes over time, and this film is definitely one for the ages.  If you’ve seen it, then watch it again (this time in 4K).  If you haven’t seen it, then this is the package definitely for you.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video provided me with a Blu-ray of Tremors 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.

​-- ez

​Occasionally, SciFiHistory.Net widens the lens to allow for the random Horror picture to slip through for interested readers.  I don’t watch much nearly as much Horror as I used to: these days, I find myself leaning towards what I’d call ‘Horror with a purpose’ or – in the very least – ‘Horror with a grounding in the Fantastical or supernatural.’  Still, I can look beyond those parameters and find something to get excited about in practically anything.  (Yes, I actually said ‘anything,’ a word I often regret using.)
 
Monomania Films’ Sleepless Beauty is just that kind of ‘anything.’
 
The flick’s adverts caught my interest largely because it looked as if these storytellers were truly fascinated with the psychology of terror and perhaps even what it could drive the average person to do.  There wasn’t any hint, per se, of a plot greater than the experimentation of not only keeping a subject awake but also slowly driving one crazy (well, maybe just a wee clue); and it looked like this was going to be some grand journey into the mind of madness.
 
In short, it kinda is, though the agenda behind all of it plays a significant part for those watching closely.  But instead of truly taking me on a trip into the darkest of places, the film ended up being little more than one meal of true torment with an unsatisfying side dish of The Manchurian Candidate.

(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 my final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From IMDB.com: “A young woman, Mila, is kidnapped by a mysterious organization known as Recreation. Her unknown abductors talk to her though a loudspeaker and set strict rules: she cannot sleep and has to fulfill bizarre and violent tasks if she hopes to stay alive. At first, it looks like someone's sick idea of entertainment but as the demands become more intense, Mila begins to realize that she is losing control of her own mind and may be a pawn in a twisted and deadly psychological experiment.”
 
Sleepless Beauty has an interesting set-up: a Russian politician giving brief remarks at a press conference is nearly assassinated.  Almost immediately after that, the audience is plunged into the life of a virtual nobody, Mila (played by Polina Davydova), whose life of nothingness is punctuated by simple things like talking on her cell phone to her nobody parents or even buying a goldfish.  Once she’s suddenly whisked away and awakened in a filthy chamber, it looks as if her life may actually somehow have greater meaning, though these layers are never quite invested enough by the storytellers here.  There are hints that her abductors may be grooming her for a greater task … but, alas, come the big finish it wasn’t quite meant to be as the final reveal ends up being little more than a set-up for perhaps another feature, one that could pick up almost exactly where this one leaves off.
 
How do you like your ‘Saw’?  (FYI: that’s a reference to the popular Saw film series, a franchise that essentially cornered the market on torture during its time in cinemas.)
 
In fairness to Sleepless Beauty, there was a greater agenda here, as all signs point to a slowly unfolding conspiracy.  But the intrigue ends up being entirely obscured by what emerges instead as a largely well-made torture flick, and I suspect many viewers might find themselves wondering why director Pavel Khvaleev felt it necessary to compose his story with so many long sequences.  For the uniformed, long sequences tend to deflate tension, allowing the audience to drink in more of the scene and the associated performance.  As the lady in distress, the comely Davydova gets great mileage out of the gruesome treatment she suffers (her increasing exhaustion and disassociation is a solid performance), there’s just not enough meat on the other bones of this meal to make it one worth more than a single viewing.
 
Torture can be used (from what I’ve read) to brainwash the properly selected candidate, but we’re not provided any indication as to why the nefarious evildoers at Recreation chose Mila.  Was it because she was a nobody with a nobody’s life?  If they genuinely believed they could accomplish this with anyone, then why Mila first?  Why not go right for the intended victim?  (That statement will make sense if you’ve seen the film – or once you’ve seen it – as I’m holding back to keep from spoiling arguably the film’s biggest secret.)  Since mentally reshaping a participant more likely varies from subject-to-subject (based on a wealth of pertinent factors), their theory here seems proven only by convenience for a single script.
 
Plotholes aside, Sleepless Beauty certainly revels in its own excesses, dishing out one punishment more strenuous than the last.  To help push the narrative along, director Khvaleev utilizes two other techniques – there’s an undercurrent involving some kinda/sorta social media access (it curiously implies that folks watching a web video feed go beyond the membership of Recreation) and some (ahem) mind-control animation that looks like a mash-up of Monty Python’s Terry Gilliam and Alien’s H.R. Giger.  One is understandably flippant – so much so I question including it in the film at all – and the other is just downright bizarre.  Clearly, Khvaleev was trying to demonstrate something about the voices one hears in one’s head all being whittled down to the single crazy one (I think); I’m just not convinced the best choices were made at each step of the way.  Some of it – while attractive – could’ve been sacrificed while leaving in only the truly relevant stuff.
 
However, Khvaleev’s bloated editing helped get the motion picture all the way to about the 85-minute mark.  While trimming the excess might’ve made for a tighter picture, it may’ve also impeded getting the flick beyond 60 minutes, a running time way too short for a silver screen experience and more akin to a telefilm.
 
If all you wanted today was some respectable torture porn, then you are rewarded with this release.  My disappointment with it relate almost entirely to its flawed construction and the promise of something more.  As it is, there are scenes suggesting the involvement of others (a neighbor, the landlord, etc.), but those are left dangling with no real commentary or conclusion, almost as if included to distract a viewer trying to guess at a broader conspiracy when none truly existed.  Torture for torture’s sake isn’t all that interesting … but I suppose it’s bloody good business if you can get it.
 

Sleepless Beauty (2020) is produced by Monomania Films.  DVD distribution for this release is being handled by Epic Pictures.  As for the technical specifications?  The film looks and sounds very good; I’ve no doubt a solid investment went into the making of the film.  As for the special features?  Well … meh.  There are a few tidbits here – honestly nothing all that grand – and I would’ve expected more from something that was clearly crafted by hands who loved it.  A real miss.
 
Alas, there’s no magic kiss in the ending to this Sleepless Beauty (2020) because if you’ve seen one Saw you’ve seen them all.  Director Pavel Khvaleev’s visualization of Aleksandra Khvaleeva’s script is only occasionally interesting (beyond the obvious torture sequences), and the audience is treated to one vague and underdeveloped character after another in this evilly elegant charade.  What’s really sad is that Polina Davydova’s performance is good enough to deserve some mild recognition, but there’s so little legitimate character exploration that the viewer never grows to like her: empathy and sympathy will only take one so far, and the lack of a connection kinda/sorta dooms this one as a one-trick pony pretty early on in its reveal.
 
The bottom line?  Well, if you like this sort of thing – Saw with more of a social media imprint – then you’ll probably enjoy it.  The casual viewer will likely be wondering where it’s all going.  The committed viewer is likely best just committed.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Epic Pictures provided me with a Blu-ray of Sleepless Beauty 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.

​-- EZ

It’s the end of the world as we know it (yet again), largely thanks to a narrative creation by writer/director Seth Larney, a visual effects expert turned auteur whose previous credits largely make this viewer wonder how anyone thought giving him full creative control over a pure Science Fiction production was a good idea.  Now, I do not mean that as an insult: lots of storytellers can cross from one genre to the next, but 2067’s scope alone makes me question what this material could’ve produced from a different leader.  True, the script needed work, and the film’s pacing is downright atrocious; but another pair of eyes at the helm may’ve caught some of the inconsistencies and drudgeries in time to see them hammered out in the process.
 
Also, we get it, you Hollywood types: mankind has destroyed itself with Global Warming.  Please!  Enough with these stories already!  And you hate technology and civilization itself, despite all of the perks (like, say, filmmaking as a craft?).  And big business will be the end of us all.  Enough already!  Do you really have nothing more to say about the big blue marble than this?  Has studio storytelling evolved to the point where its yarn-spinners really have nothing else to say other than what’s already been said countless times – countless BETTER times – in an endless stream of politically-charged SciFi features?  Is everyone in the entertainment business that single-minded?
​

(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 minor hints at things to come, then read on …)
 
As for the story?
 
In the near future, mankind has somehow managed to deforest the planet, leaving oxygen itself a scarce commodity.  One of the last surviving corporations – Chronicorp – has bought the remaining citizens of Australia a brief respite: their manufactured synthetic oxygen gives survivors the chance to carry on … but it turns out the tainted gas will eventually kill every last man, woman, and child.  Earth’s last hope is Chronicorp’s time machine – the Chronicom – where hopes for a trip to the future will produce a cure for the present.  But once activated, the machine receives a cryptic communication from four hundred years down the line: “Send Ethan Whyte.”
 
Ethan Whyte (played by Kodi Smit-McPhee) is a worker toiling away in the tunnels under the city working to keep the power running.  Soon, he’s whisked to Chronicorp Headquarters where CTO Regina Jackson (Deborah Mailman) explains that Ethan’s late father, Richard (Aaron Glenane), built the Chronicom, and now the company needs the son to head to the future to not only find the much needed solution but also find his own way back to the present.  Already living a life weighted down with daddy issues (Richard apparently bailed out on his marriage years before), Ethan eventually decides that in order to save his dying wife Xanthe (Sana’a Shaik) he’ll do as Chronicorp asks.
​

At this point, 2067 begins its descent into an increasingly bizarre narrative.  Larney’s script alternates clunkily for the remainder of the film trying to satisfy far too many subplots, leaving the main plot – the survival of life itself – kinda/sorta lost in the shuffle.
 
In the future, plant life has returned to Earth, seemingly of its own accord, but we’re never convincingly told how or why.  (It would seem that Mother Nature was just waiting for mankind to magically die off.)  Ethan’s ongoing family issues push him to make one bad decision after another as the character vacillates far too often between understanding ‘what happened,’ ‘what’s this,’ and ‘why am I here?’  Eventually added to this jumbled storytelling is Jude (Ryan Kwanten), Ethan’s friend, substitute father figure, and maybe even executioner.  Jude follows our hero into the future, though once arrived he spends the bulk of the time emotionally struggling with his own secrets and demons, none truly revealed until the big finish at which point it all feels more like a failed plot twist than it does a legitimate storytelling development.  (There was probably a better way to reveal all of this information, but alas I can only review what’s provided on film.)
 
And while I’m on the subject of pointing out things that don’t quite make sense, why would a company like Chronicorp be spending what’s left of Earth’s natural resources on perfecting a time machine in the first place?  Why not take all of that sweat, blood, and tears and put it into creating something like – say – synthetic plant life?  I know an Earth government or two has set up some seed vaults in the event of the Apocalypse – which this most definitely is – so why not dig deep on that frontier?  How would Mother Earth just turn itself off?  And how did Chronicorp know that the answer to what ails mankind would even be found in the distant future?  I understand how going back to the past – zipping back to pick up a plant or two – could be useful, but if Earth was as dead as depicted in the film’s set-up, why would anyone assume going to the future would be a solution?  To complicate matters further, 2067 doesn’t explain how Ethan uses only a fateful few seconds to eventually provide the past with his pretty-darn-simple resolution: I won’t spoil it for you (I do try to be respectful of keeping a surprise or two secret in my reviews), but this one had me scratching my head.  When you have to ‘think up an answer,’ there’s usually a problem that should’ve been hammered out by the narrative instead of the audience.
 
Trust me when I say that I had a solid handful of additional questions regarding little things that didn’t make sense (I reached a point where I just stopped jotting them down out of personal frustration), but I don’t like the belabor a point when I think it speaks for itself.  Larney’s script had holes – some big, some small – and I can’t help but wonder if another director taking charge might’ve been the better course of action here.  If nothing else, a second opinion could’ve helped identify these deficiencies and helped make for a tighter experience.
 
There’s nothing wrong with wanting to make an impactful Science Fiction film.  In fact, I’d argue that SciFi – unlike other genres – has the ability to transcend its rudimentary framework more than traditional drama or comedy because these features require their own world-building.  They set up their own context with their own language and circumstances, and they tell stories entirely with their own set of rules.  But when the formula doesn’t add up, the film’s message ends up being shortchanged in the process.  No amount of good intentions behind that morality tale resolves the narrative inconsistencies, and the hero’s quest loses its ‘umph’ in the finale.
 
Still, I’d say 2067 is mildly recommended.
 
The thing I enjoy about these smaller, quieter, less well-known features is that there’s generally a lot of moxie behind them.  Typically, smaller production companies are populated by folks with an unquenchable desire to make movies – good, bad, and sometimes awful – and it’s that desire that ends up giving nearly all of them just a bit more heart and soul than your typical run-of-the-mill, big-loud-dumb-fun summer blockbuster.  Smaller films have to work harder to find an audience.  Heck, they have to work harder to even get made!  While 2067 has its share of flaws, it’s still worth a single view (in my opinion), though I suspect some will be restless in their seat before all is said and done.
​

2067 is produced by Screen Australia, XYZ Films, and a host of other partners.  This DVD distribution comes by way of the very good RLJE Films.  As for the special features?  The disc offers a director’s commentary (Larney is very convinced he crafted a solid message film here, though I’d disagree a bit as he invested too much of the story on overused SciFi tropes) as well as the usual ‘making of’ bits.  It’s a solid collection, one that should keep an interested viewer focused for the duration.
 
Despite some solid production values and a reasonably good performance by the lead (plus a very impressive musical score), 2067 feels empty: the science doesn’t quite make sense (at least not to this viewer), the relationships feel too formulaic to be accepted as authentic, and the endgame strategy by the flick’s big baddie has more plot holes than perhaps one two-hour feature could fill.  All of this and the fact that the film plods along at a snail’s pace once again makes me long for the days when directors were directors, writers were writers, and rarely the two would meet.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at RLJE Films provided me with a DVD of 2067 for the expressed purposes of creating this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

Kids today just don’t appreciate the films of yesteryear, and that’s likely owed to the glut of entertainment options available in the modern age.  (I’ve mentioned this before on SciFiHistory.Net, so regular readers hang in there a moment.)  Back when I was a young’un, our antenna-driven television set was lucky to get anywhere from four to eight different channels at varying times during the day; the advent of a local cable package essentially increased it to about twelve, with most of the programming provided being old black-and-whites movies from the U.S. and (occasionally) abroad.  Suffice it to say, I had to ‘make do’ with whatever came on when I wanted to watch television, and more often than not this ended up being mildly diverting fare the likes of which Mystery Science Theatre 3000 lampooned when it was on-the-air.
 
Despite their second-rate appearance, these lesser films of my youth still occupy a full corner of my heart and soul.  Their stories and performances are largely forgettable – you’ve seen one piece of camp, and you’ve seen them all – but storytellers of that era had to do more with less.  Special effects and make-up were just really coming into their own, so visual tricksters would have to find creative ways of conveying, say, a man turning into a monster or a scientist building a spaceship that would take him and his crew to the moon.  As one can guess, their efforts weren’t always convincing, but because of living when I did I have an endless appreciation for anyone who works to convey big ideas in small ways.  It’s why I do even today gravitate toward smaller films as opposed to bigger ones: these flicks are populated by folks who, typically, try harder.  That’s a fact.
 
So though I don’t remember seeing 1956’s Warning From Space as a kid specifically, I can say that I know I did.  (Like I said, the stories of these films tend to blend together as they aren’t very distinctive.)  How do I know?  Well, I remember the film’s aliens as depicted in their native form.  And, yes, I remember laughing at them.  Thankfully, they aren’t all over the film – they appear somewhat sparingly until after they magically ‘morph’ into Earthlings – so it’s one of those forgivable sins.  But as the old guy I now am, I think I do see some greater symbolism in the feature than my youthful eyes ever could’ve captured back in the day.
​

​(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 my final assessment of it.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the product packaging: “As Japan is rocked by mysterious sightings of UFOs over Tokyo and large one-eyed aliens attempting to contact, scientists collaborate to investigate the unexpected rise in extraterrestrial activity.  Unbeknownst to them, one of the aliens has already assumed human form and is about to deliver a very important message … that could be humanity’s last hope for survival.”
 
Setting aside some of the film’s silliness, Warning From Space is essentially the Japanese equivalent to 20th Century Fox’s 1951 Science Fiction classic The Day The Earth Stood Still.  While there are significant differences between the two tales, the central thread – that of aliens coming down to our planet with a message regarding our own self-destructive tendencies – is the core.  What differs is the fact that the U.S. won World War II by using nuclear weaponry while the Japanese not only lost but also suffered one of the most horrific defeats imaginable: the use of the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki are controversial today (the passage of time tends to allow modern pundits with, say, moral fiber than those who lived in the thick of savagery), but it’s important to understand that Japan’s post-war storytelling attitudes were heavily influenced by what they saw and experienced.  Much of that influences Warning’s second half, when the arrival of a new planet in our solar system spells certain doom for mankind.
 
Director Kôji Shima vividly explores the face of devastation, making tremendous, impressive use of color in his visuals.  While the first half of the feature is rendered in bright lights with almost picturesque detail, the second half trims down that excess and instead floods the viewer with some dark and foreboding sights.  Cities are captured in gray.  Interiors once brightly lit are now dour and depressing.  Almost like an impressionist painter, Shima subtracts the good elements of life and instead leaves the decay front-and-center; and one can only wonder what he and his art department may’ve drawn inspiration from their corner of the world.
​

Setting aside some of the film’s visual artistry, there’s little else to distinguish Warning From Space from other mid-century Science Fiction entries.  Its characters are all fairly benign, yet they’re fashionably given a bit of depth in Hideo Oguni’s occasionally interesting script.  Sadly, the young and old scientists here all blend together – no one seems to have any greater credentials than the other – though there are hints of a dangerous super-element technology that plays into both the alien's reason for visiting Earth as well as the film’s climax; had more time been spent on that, Warning might’ve elevated itself above standard fare, but as it is here it’s just average.
 
Furthermore, that narrative is even a bit confusing regarding the film’s depicted science.  At one point, the lead alien Ginko (in a dual role by actress Toyomi Karita that ends up being a bit more unintentionally comic than probably intended) instructs Earth scientists to destroy their latest discovery as it’ll certainly lead to our planet’s destruction.  However, in the film’s last reel, it’s this very breakthrough that’s used by the alien ship to in fact save the world from the impending cataclysm.  So if these aliens are so super-smart and only have our best interests in mind galactically, then why the plot hole?  It’s never explained, nor did it probably matter to screenwriter Oguni.  (Who knows?  Maybe it’s lost in translation!)
 
But while we’re on the topic of the aliens?
 
More accurately, they’re called Pairans.  They were designed for the film by world renowned avant-garde artist Taro Okamoto.  As I mentioned in the opening to this review, their appearance brought me to laughter as a young’un, and that’s probably because I couldn’t possibly conceive of a man-sized starfish with a single eye in the middle of its body as being a legitimate extraterrestrial.  At the time, my SciFi diet had already been heavily influenced by the likes of Star Trek and Planet Of The Apes, so a species that looked so bizarre tickled me pink, as they say.  Now, I can definitely see some otherworldly influences and artistic predilections at play with Okamoto’s choices: an eye within a star might mean that we’re looking to the heavens as much as it could mean that the heavens are watching us, depending upon one's point-of-view.  What made me chuckle as a boy gives me pause to think as an adult … or maybe that’s just how maturity works.
 
Yes, its effects are dated.  Yes, its messages were probably not as original or as timely as were other films of the era.  And yes the acting and staging were a bit undercooked.  Still, there’s something about Warning From Space that deserves a little bit of attention, even if it’s a single viewing.  Mind you: I’ve seen far worse from the era.  With a tighter pace and a bit more charm, this Warning might even be worthing heeding.  As it is, the film serves more as a snapshot of days gone by than it does a look into cinema’s tomorrow.
​

Warning From Space (1956) was produced by Toho Company and Daiei Studios.  DVD distribution for this particular ‘Special Edition’ release is being handled via the stellar Arrow Video.  As for the technical specifications?  The film looks very sharp – there’s a fair amount of grain from time-to-time that’s common for transfers from this era – and the sound mix is very good.  As for the special features?  Those unfamiliar with Arrow’s work should be impressed: the disc sports a commentary track (it doesn’t run the entire length of the picture) that essentially provides talent bios and some minor ‘making of’ tidbits, an image gallery, theatrical trailers, an English-dubbed Americanized version of the feature, and a few essays printed on the disc’s inserts.  It’s a solid look at a film that maybe ended up saying a bit more than most.
 
RECOMMENDED more as a novelty than anything else.
 
Much like the aliens depicted here, Toho Company’s Warning From Space (1956) is a curious oddity from another time and another place.  While it bares the distinction of being the very first Japanese Science Fiction film to be made in color, there’s little else to see here except for a story that feels heavily influenced by real world events – namely World War II and the development of nuclear/atomic weapons – much in the same way 20th Century Fox’s The Day The Earth Stood Still (1951).  Indeed, both films’ central thread revolves around an alien intelligence arriving on our planet with a message that amounts to “get your act together or else,” though Warning plays out with much dire consequences than Still ever approaches.  This fundamental difference is likely owed to director Kôji Shima and the Japanese people’s wartime experience with Hiroshima and Nagasaki, making the film noticeably darker in tone and visuals than its American counterpart.  Shima’s frame construction makes the motion picture worth a view, but the lackluster pacing kept me wishing for the end of life as we know it already.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video provided me with a Blu-ray of Warning From Space 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.

​-- EZ

The decade of the 1980’s is revered by a generation of film lovers for a variety of reasons.  Action stars like Bruce Willis, Harrison Ford, and Arnold Schwarzenegger truly ‘got their start’ in that era, and the already established Sylvester Stallone certainly turned out some of his biggest hits during his cinematic prime.  Special effects that were pioneered during the initial Star Wars craze of the late 1970’s really started to hit their stride on the silver screen, and these developments continued to open new doors for storytellers to dazzle audiences.  Incredibly successful silver screen franchises like the Indiana Jones films, the Terminator, Ghostbusters, and more became household names, giving hungry moviegoers the kind of visual pomp and circumstance they could sit through not once, not twice, but multiple times.  The advent of affordable home video meant that a film could be watched over-and-over without having to wait for it to come up again in rotation on cable or regular broadcast schedules.  Truly, it was a glorious age, and Hollywood raced to keep up with demand.
 
Generationally speaking, the 1980’s was also a time in American resurgence on the global scene.  Ronald Reagan was elected to the Presidency, and his ineffable charm and tireless positivity touched off a sense of national pride amongst those who lived through it.  (Don’t believe what the history books tell you, kids.)  Though the Cold War was still being waged in political corners, as the decade wore on it became increasingly clear that one side – the Soviet Union – was losing pace with the U.S.  Who could’ve possibly imagined that as we turned the corner into the 1990’s that the Berlin Wall would come down, the USSR would (kinda/sorta) break apart, and cinema would descend into that usual ‘where do we go now’ exercise that leads to various shades of black-and-white.
 
But back in the 1980’s?  The good guys were good guys.  The bad guys were bad guys.  Both sides were easily identified. And evil was almost always vanquished.
 
Into this era soared The Last Starfighter.
 
And I like to think that filmdom is a better place thanks to his adventure.
 
(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 my final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
​

​Young Alex Rogan (played to perfection by Lance Guest) toils away his days living in the Starlite Starbright trailer park waiting for his chance to break out of life’s routine.  He isn’t so much looking to the stars except when he’s consumed by his favorite video game: Starfighter gives him the rare chance to escape from the doldrum of everyday life while defending the galaxy from the villainous Xur.  However, once he sets the high score on the arcade, he discovers that game is actually a recruiting tool to find ‘the best and brightest’ and take them to the planet Rylos where they’re charged to truly stand against the forces of darkness lying in wait just on the other side of The Frontier.
 
Written by Jonathan Betuel and directed by Nick Castle, The Last Starfighter remains one of the most perfect films from the 80’s.  Guest is brilliant as the young hero who – like Star Wars’ Luke Skywalker – was only wishing for a way out of his boring existence when circumstances turn to his favor.  Catherine Mary Stewart is perfectly cast as his loving girl-next-door, a role she played repeatedly throughout much of her career in film and television.  Robert Preston brings a measure of old school Hollywood chemistry to the motion picture in the guise of Centauri, a kinda/sorta intergalactic conman whose set-up the Starfighter video games without his employer’s knowledge – a shenanigan that ends up saving life as we know it.  Dan O’Herlihy rounds out the principles: his turn as the alien navigator Grig gives the film its most family-friendly appeal as the actor imbues the lizard with enthusiastic and expressive huffs and puffs that give life to even the layers of faux skin over the man’s face.
 
Performances aside, The Last Starfighter is also gifted with a wealth of technical expertise that helps complete the cinematic experience.  The fledgling CGI isn’t always convincing, but the detail works when required.  Castle’s direction and pacing keeps the tale moving at an ideal pace, and Betuel’s script balanced the well-rounded subplots with time both on Earth and in outer space.  Ron Cobb’s production design is particular fetching: the Gunstars remain one of the signature starfighters in all of Science Fiction, and his understanding of physics and mechanics helped him produce one of the most believable spacecraft in film.  Kevin Pike (as special effects supervisor) helped bring both Earthbound and space-based environments to life.  Lastly, Craig Safan’s score provides a brilliant undercurrent to the entire film; the track are constantly tugging at the viewer’s heartstrings or providing a pulse-pounding heartbeat for the action and adventure.
 
For what it’s worth, I’d be a fool if I failed to mention that there have been attempts to follow-up The Last Starfighter: Betuel mentions more than once on the disc’s supplementary features that plans were afoot in such a way as to treat this film as only a first chapter.  As grand as a follow-up could’ve been, I shudder to think at what could go wrong especially with waiting so long to take another swing at the material.  The original film has a timelessness to it that other flicks from the 80’s can’t claim, and I suspect a continuation (or reboot) at this point would sacrifice a lot of the wholesomeness that pervades so much of Guest and Stewart’s work here.  I’d hate to see this one’s reputation tarnished in any way, shape, or form.  It’s that rare perfect viewing pleasure – even if you consider it a guilty one – and maybe once is good enough for all time.
​

The Last Starfighter (1984) was produced by Lorimar Film Entertainment and Universal Pictures.  This particular DVD release was handled via the incredible Arrow Video line.  As for the technical specifications?  The release looks and sounds fantastic: according to the included promotional materials, Arrow scanned the original 35mm camera negative for this 4K restoration.  As can happen in the process of ‘upgrading’ filmed images from the 1980’s (and earlier), there is some occasional grain visible, but it never distracts.  (There was a single instance wherein a scratch or something looked like a bit of dripping rainwater for a few seconds.)  And as for the special features?  Man oh man, fans of this fondly remembered film have plenty to look forward to: there is a solid handful of quality retrospective shorts (interviews, etc.) and two brand-new audio commentaries (as well as an archival commentary) that should keep one busy for hours.  (I’ve yet to get through all of the commentaries, but I’m making notes and considering a review of them as well in a separate post.)
 
Highest recommendation possible.

​So far as this reviewer is concerned, The Last Starfighter remains one of the quintessential films that demonstrates practically everything audiences loved about films from the 1980’s.  There’s a wholesome lead character blessed with a hero’s quest.  There’s a wonderful and believable small-town romance.  There’s a solid premise that gives all of the principals something to do and not just serve as vehicles to advance the plot: the whole team serves a purpose, and it’s arguably one of the most cherished SciFi/Fantasy flicks to come along ever.  Furthermore, if you’re into special effects, Starfighter remains one of the best examples of the earliest, most effective use of computer graphics (CGI), and a single viewing shows the promise that this new frontier of special effects could bring to all of filmdom.  It’s one of the few times that great stars, great stories, and great effects truly meshed on the silver screen.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video provided me with a Blu-ray of The Last Starfighter by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form was influenced by it.

-- EZ

If you're thinking about picking up a copy, it's available for purchase at Amazon.com.

Argh.  2020, enough already.  You're killing me ...

Fox TV's popular The X-Files was a program whose writing staff knew how to use humor sparingly but with incredible effectiveness.  Granted, the show had a few bottle-style episodes that went more for comic impact than did the bulk of the show's run; but when the writers served up a solid laugh it was usually extremely well-placed and well-deserved.

And as bottle episodes go, my money has always been on "Jose Chung's 'From Outer Space" as being not only one of The X-Files' best but quite possibly one of the smartest, funniest, and most poignant hours of genre television ever.  Darin Morgan's script is sprinkled with delight from start-to-finish, though the casual observer is likely to miss a whole lot of them.  Paying close attention, having a solid grounding in UFO lore, and embracing that willingness to suspend disbelief grants rewards a viewer never expects with this hour, and it's one that I always recommend to folks who've never enjoyed what a phenomenon The X-Files truly was for its era.

Sadly, I get to mention it this morning because of Alex Trebek's passing.

For those who've never seen the episode, "Jose Chung" kinda/sorta takes all of the usual tropes involved with UFO and UFOlogy and packs them tightly into this smart script ... and then turns it all on its head as FBI agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully detail one of the most bizarre and unsolved cases of possible alien abduction on record.  Essentially, it's one curveball after another -- the way many abduction accounts get treated by the media -- with Mulder (the believer) verbally sparing with Scully (the skeptic) as they try to force these disparate pieces together into some kind of recognizable jigsaw puzzle.

How does Alex Trebek figure into this?

As fate would have it, it's the briefest of cameos, indeed, as the popular game show host and former Minnesota governor Jesse Ventura end up appearing as the curiously evasive yet presciently ubiquitous 'Men In Black.'  Still, it's all handled brilliantly, and though I've never read what Trebek had to say about his appearance I can imagine he was thrilled to be in on the joke.

Alas, he's passed on now ... but we'll always have this and the countless hours of Jeopardy to remember him by.

God speed ...

​-- EZ

Imagine -- if you will -- that there's a way to cross from our world into a parallel one wherein you can watch yourself making all of the wrong decisions you make every day.  Then imagine you could cross back into your original universe to stop those wrongs from happening.  What could be gained from such knowledge?  Wealth?  Power?  Status?  Maybe even the secret to existence itself?

Such is the fertile ground which appears to be covered in Parallel, a forthcoming release that's apparently been playing the film festival circuit since completed back in 2018.  I stumbled across the trailer for the impending release, and I'll put it up below.  It would appear that the film has certainly been warmly rewarded by audiences who've had the good fortune to see it, and that certainly bodes well for genre fans looking for a suitable escape from the days of this plague if theatres do get fully opened and up-to-speed this month and next.

Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:

"A group of friends stumble upon a mirror that serves as a portal to a "multiverse", but soon discover that importing knowledge from the other side in order to better their lives brings increasingly dangerous consequences."

Looks suitably creepy, no?

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

​-- EZ

I know, I know, I know: everybody hated Batman V. Superman: Dawn Of Justice, so I must, too, right?  Well, the truth is I actually enjoyed significant parts of the flawed film.  I don't feel the need to justify the good, the bad, and the ugly within the motion picture from start-to-finish, but I will say this: as arguably one of the oldest, truest, most serious Batman fans on the web these days, I'd strongly argue that the feature's depiction of the Caped Crusader is one of the best captured on film.

I know, I know, I know: what about the Christopher Nolan films?

Meh.

The issue I had with the Nolan films (the first two especially) was that the central beats of the story were such that the flick could've been done around ANY billionaire playboy who discovered a desire to fight crime.  It didn't have to be Bruce Wayne.  Seriously.  It could've been any billionaire who'd made the same commitment.  Too little of the story developed the relationships between the villains of Gotham City and its Dark Knight; and I felt each of the feature's suffered as a consequence.  Sure, they were well-made; I'd never argue otherwise.  I just wasn't drawn into the greater mythology of Gotham.  Likewise, it could've been any big city.

About the time that Nolan kinda/sorta figured out how to truly made a Batman film -- as I'd argue he did with The Dark Knight Rises -- he was essentially stepping away from the DC property.  Methinks he had to do this with the way he had structured his trilogy, true, but I would've loved to see what he could've done next, if that makes any sense.

As is always the case, I understand fully that my opinion goes against the grain with what fandom believes are three of the best Superhero films of the modern era ... but I'm not losing any sleep over it.  We'll just have to agree to disagree.

But I digress ...

Batman V. Superman, as flawed as it may be, finally showed audiences a Bruce Wayne with an all-consuming, driven passion to remake the world the way he wanted it.  Critics felt that was perhaps a bridge too far for what's basically meant to be a comic book character, and they're wrong: Batman of the comic books has spent decades in his own never-ending battle to do just that ... to clean up the streets of Gotham City (and occasionally beyond) from the low-level punks to the high-level kingpins.  The living embodiment of his own Greek tragedy, Batman is a relentless vigilante who'll stop at nothing to see justice delivered, and that usually means getting in fast-and-furious fisticuffs with the most overwhelming odds imaginable.

And that's why the film's titular warehouse fight remains a favorite with this old dog: this was the first time that a Batman flick showed audiences what the Dark Knight does fairly routinely in the comic books and graphic novels.  He gets in there.  He gets up-close-and-personal.  He busts heads.  He cracks skulls.  He bloodies his knuckles.  He takes blow after blow and blow and still refuses to go down or bend the knee.  When necessary, he pull something from his belt -- a batarang, a smokebomb -- and he'll unleash it to better his odds.  He does it with the theatricality required of the moment.  And he wins.  He survives against incredible odds.

And he does this every other night in Gotham City.

It was glorious to see on the screen finally.

Whether you like the Zack Snyder flick or not in ultimately inconsequential.  This fight sequence for me defines the character as well as the potential for future Batflicks so far as this viewer is concerned.  It was a highwater mark in the DC Cinematic Universe, and I stand by that.

This morning, I stumbled across an article wherein Men's Health asked an physician to actually break down this fight regarding its displayed injuries.  I chuckled when I watched the video.  I think you will, too.

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

-- EZ

Earlier this morning, I received word via email that Kino Lorber was prepping a handful of Science Fiction and Fantasy flicks for their December release portfolio, and I'll be sprinkling these announcements throughout the MainPage on SciFiHistory.Net today.  If I can find them up on Amazon.com for pre-order, then I'll also be inserting those links in the announcements as well.

1987's The Barbarians is one of those cult oddities that ends up being rediscovered from time-to-time mostly due to its tongue-in-cheek charm: the film never quite takes itself seriously, so it's easy to forgive moments that might otherwise sink its buoyancy.  Richard Lynch was an actor whose looks alone made it easy for audiences to embrace his chewing scenery as a big or small screen villain, and the twin Paul brothers certainly look the part of barbarians for their particular moment in screen history.  Plus the film introduces a young and lovely Eva LaRue as a kinda/sorta sidekick in what was only her second screen credit.  Kudos on that casting!

If you're interested in pre-ordered, the Blu-ray is up on Amazon.com right here.

Per the Kino Lorber email:

An evil ruler Kadar (Richard Lynch; Invasion USA, Bad Dreams, Cut and Run) enslaves Canary, a beautiful young queen (Virginia Bryant; Demons 2), and two twin boys from her clan. Canary’s faithful servant takes one of the twins to a distant land where he grows strong and powerful, while the other twin stays with the evil Kadar. With the help of a young outlaw woman (Eva LaRue; All My Children), the twins set out to free their mother. Starring The Barbarian Brothers (Peter Paul and David Paul - D.C. Cab, Think Big, Double Trouble) and Michael Berryman (The Hills Have Eyes, Cut and Run, Armed Response). Directed by cult filmmaker Ruggero Deodato (Cannibal Holocaust, Cut and Run). Now see this cult classic from a brand-new HD master!

Label: KL Studio Classics
​Street Date: 12/1/20
BD SRP: 29.95
BD Item #: K25182
BD UPC: 738329251826
Genre: Adventure
Year: 1987
Rating: R
Runtime: 87
Director: Ruggero Deodato
Actors: David Paul, Peter Paul, Richard Lynch, Eva La Rue, Birginia Bryant
Language: English