Hailing from the world of Hope, Arkansas where she was born back in 1939, Melinda Dillon toiled away in some reasonably small roles here and there until writer/director Steven Spielberg cast her in the big role of 'Jillian Guiler' in the SciFi/Fantasy Close Encounters Of The Third Kind (1977).  The more thoughtful drama opened theatrically the same year as George Lucas' original Star Wars; and -- as a consequence -- there were endless comparisons (in print) about which was the "better" Science Fiction film, an unfair comparison if there ever were since one was obviously grounded in Fantasy and Close Encounters tried to put a real world look at Guiler's coping with the (alien) abduction of her young child.  Dillon brought some incredible work to the picture, and she even enjoyed a 1978 Academy Award nomination in the category of 'Best Actress In A Supporting Role.'  While she had to settle for the honor of a nomination alone, it still cemented the lady as a force to be reckoned with if and when other studios came a'callin'.

Still, her resume was never heavy with genre projects, and she gravitated to work that was definitely a bit more mainstream.  In fact, I suspect most folks know Dillon for her work in the role of 'Mother Parker' aboard the holiday classic A Christmas Story (1983), a flick that's available on television ad infinitum during the silly season ... and why not?  It's a gem of a tale -- funny and wholesome -- and it's something that can be enjoyed by the entire family.

​​As for other appearances in the realm of Science Fiction and Fantasy?

In 1985, she turned up in an episode of the 1980's incarnation of Rod Serling's The Twilight Zone on network television.  In 1987, she leapt back in with great warmth aboard Harry And The Hendersons for Amblin Entertainment, another family comedy, this one involving the adoption of Bigfoot.  In 1989, she entered the dark world of another fringe element of our existence with some work in Spontaneous Combustion.  In 1990, director Albert Pyun cast her in the role of 'Mrs Rogers' aboard the Marvel property Captain America.  And in 1998 she turned up with some work in The Effects Of Magic, the tale of a father/son magic team who join up to battle evil.

Word reached my desk late last night of the actress' passing, and I wanted to get up just a few words of remembrance.  IMDB.com shows that she pretty much retired from acting in 2007, but thank goodness we'll always have her work on screens big and small to remember the contributions she made to some solid entertainment.

Prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Melinda Dillon.  May she rest in peace.

​-- EZ

Awww ...

Good morning, and welcome to February, happy readers!  Here's hoping that your 2023 is starting out on the right foot.  If it isn't, then please please please just try to find a little comfort that your year has to, at least, be going better than Warner Bros. and DC Studios' year is going.

As I've not kept it any secret over the years that -- when it comes to comic book intellectual property -- I've always been more of a DC Comics guy than I ever was a Marvel.  For whatever reason, the DC characters have always just appealed to me personally much more than any of the other publisher.  I've always argued that it's most likely owed to the fact that I was kinda/sorta raised on DC heroes; at the time that I was offered an entry into the Marvel Universe of books, nothing I read just really lit a fire in me, so I rarely read them with any consistency.  Such is the way of life, I guess.

​In any event, a longtime observant reader -- one who saw the (cough cough) high-priced DC Studios midweek presentation about their (cough cough) all-new line-up -- actually reached out.  This person clearly has read SciFiHistory.Net (thank you!) well enough to know my preference of graphic characters, and he wanted to know -- in short -- whether or not I felt the addition of James Gunn to the management and development roster was going to make any difference in the box office of the DC Universe.

The short answer is: no/maybe.

But I'm fully prepared to write a bit more for folks who do like to read.

Now, keep in mind, please: I've no bone to pick with Gunn and his partner Peter Safran.  While I am of the mind that Gunn likely has some personal issues in his life regarding his -- ahem -- predilections (anyone with a brain knows full well the guy has Tweeted thousands of times in the past about his sex life, jokes or not), I'm capable of separating my low opinion of him as a man with my honest opinion of him as a storyteller ... if for no other reason than it makes me tolerant of different media types.  His past caught up with him at the Mouse House, and he was understandably fired.  The outcry from the Marvellites and Hollywood -- and probably the fear over diminished receipts -- saw him brought back into the fold, and -- on that front -- we are where we are.

​Gunn's scripts and/or various projects have always centered on what I think is safe to say are an assortment of oddball characters.  They're those players who rise up and become heroes sometimes in spite of themselves if not even some times just to spite those they find themselves surrounded by.  Occasionally vile, they might even be considered more appropriately to be anti-heroes (of a type), typically defined more by what makes them different than what makes them -- erm -- functional members of any society.

​In many cases, this perspective can open the door for some fabulous and inventive tales.  Characters who view the world from a unique vantage point can be sources of inspiration, often times appealing to audiences who might even think of themselves as being just out-of-step with the wider world.  Fans might understandably identify with them, and it goes without saying that this contingent of any audience will cheer these adventures -- the good, the bad, and the ugly.  In many ways, this dynamic practically describes the whole comic book industry and its readership: a reasaonbly small percentage of society actually reads graphic installments on a consistent basis, and these outsiders like to think of their respective colorful universes as being all of their own.

And, no, I don't think that there's anything wrong or even remotely unstable about that.  Taylor Swift fans consider themselves the same way, and nobody finds them unstable!  (Well, to a degree, anyway ...)
​

There arguably was a time wherein the embrace of such fringe players within comic book films kinda/sorta aligned with how society treated them.  Go back to the era of the Blade films, and you could easily see some excellent storytelling, solid production values, and vivid presentations but these pictures could still be argued as kinda/sorta fringe entertainment.  Yes, a lot of interest was thrown into the comics-to-film possibilities after 1989's Batman roared on the silver screen, but keep in mind: Batman -- as an intellectual property was hardly a 'fringe player.'

In fact, there's a whole book out there -- I'm pretty sure it's called The Many Lives Of The Batman -- which includes a fabulous essay about how Warner Bros. and DC Comics collaborated over the better part of a decade to build a market specifically for a big budget Batman movie.  At some point -- let's say in the early 1980's -- they realized that the theaters had essentially dried up of comic book projects, so they began properly seeding the market for not a small return but a vast, explosive one ... with a name director ... with big name talent ... and the marketplace responded in kind.  Granted, if it had been a failure, then we might not even be where we are today.  It wasn't, and this pretty much set the first stone in a foundation that continues growing today.

However, I'm not so sure that anyone can argue Marvel's success is owed to fringe elements.  Their Iron Man largely became their 1989 Batman movie, and then they rather quickly seized the opportunity that DC and Warner Bros. basically ignored; and such moxie was rewarded by an audience hungry for such visual entertainment.  They added a whole wing or two to that whole foundation, each one with another relatively well-known character and only then started tinkering with some second-tier heroes and villains.  Smartly, they went big when the door swung open, and -- as anyone can see -- they've been amply rewarded at the box office.

But their core group -- say Iron Man, Captain America, the Hulk, Thor, etc. -- were not fringe players.  Within the comic book industry, these are established commodities.  Using these well-known identities, Marvel has -- without question -- made superhero films part of the mainstream, all for the good, the bad, and the ugly they are.  (Yes, I know that many directors don't look on them as 'authentic films,' and while I understand and appreciate that perspective these films still perform for studios, so there's no denying the potential.)  The point here is that whether or not the Hollywood industry wants to keep doing them or not they will very much keep producing them ... because they've become mainstream.  They are what audiences have come to expect.  There are more and more of them released each year.  Like it or not, Martin Scorsese, they are here to stay for the foreseeable future.

Gunn and Safran's successes (if you want to call them that) hasn't necessarily translated to mainstream awareness.  What I mean here is that no one knows James Gunn's name (at least, no one in the meat-and-potatoes America where I live), but his Guardians Of The Galaxy films are beloved to a degree.  Peter Safran?  I can probably count on one hand the number of people who know the name of Peter Safran; once I subtract from them those who are in his own damn family, then we're likely left with no one.  Gunn and Safran -- despite what the press industry might be telling you -- are virtual unknowns; even Gunn's sexual preferences pretty much escaped the online hardcore political community, so we're not dealing with two guys whose identities alone are going to pull folks to the theaters.
​

Because Gunn's storytelling proclivities tend to gravitate toward these quirky odd ducks, I've often argued online (Twitter and beyond) that he's not demonstrated an understanding of how to take big, iconic, mythic centerpieces like Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman and do anything effective with them.  In fact, his stories (that I've seen) often focus more of second string types who spend the bulk of their time lampooning the very tenets that make big, iconic, mythic centerpieces like Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman into the characters their fans so very much want to watch on screens big and small.  So at the time of Gunn's selection, I -- like many others -- questioned whether or not Warner Bros. and DC Studios functionally knew what they were dealing with, and I stand by that assessment today.

Nothing about this "big announcement" gave me any indication that DC fans are going to get anything different from Gunn and/or Warner Bros. and/or DC Studios than what we've been given in the past.  While maybe a bit more cash will be thrown into the mix, nothing in this announcement gave any indication whatsoever that things were a'changin', folks.  Nothing.  Nada.  Zip.  Zero.  Zilch.

But ...

That's why I've always cautioned readers to never never never take too much out of announcements of this sort.  They're public relations events.  They're studio spin efforts.  They typically give no substance and instead try to lightly persuade watchers to have faith, trust the plan, and go with the flow.  They might even mildly suggest something like "you're spoken, we've heard you, and we're adjusting," but Gunn has been an outspoken blowhard vehemently arguing against fandom on Twitter and beyond, so if you thought you heard a bit of that and bought it then I have a bridge in New York I'd very much like to sell you.

Need I remind folks?  It wasn't all that long ago that DC was promising the best Batgirl movie ever was going to see the light of day, and what happened to that project?  A multi-million dollar flick was assembled -- one that everyone involved apparently believes was a work of art -- and it's been entirely shelved.  Shelved.  Written off.  That doesn't happen every day of the week, but -- man, oh man -- DC and Warner Bros. shot off their mouth about it coming to theaters real soon, didn't they?  And it wasn't all that long ago that Warner Bros. and DC Studios handed the baton to (cough cough) JJ Abrams, of all people?  Do you remember that hype?  I know I do.  We were promised a whole assortment of new flicks, one that was going to be an alternate universe Black Superman (FYI: there are still WB execs who are saying it's still in development despite this 'whole new world'), and what happened to all of those?  Again: nothing.

This is why I put absolutely zero stake in anything that comes from DC, WB, and/or Gunn and Safran.  Until the damn thing hits the theaters, it ain't real.

Of course, I'm willing to cut Gunn and his team a bit of slack on this whole front because -- essentially -- he's bound to what the studio will ultimately let him do.  Historically, Warner Bros. has not been a good partner for DC.  I won't go into the wealth of examples I've read about over the years, but I will mention one that I recall: upon visiting the set for what I believe was the filming of Superman Returns, all one of the studio suits had to say (by way of 'suggestion') was to question why Superman had to wear a cape all of the time.

As a DC fan, do I hold out hope for the future?

Yes, yes, yes.  I do.  As much as it pains me to see franchises put in the hands of folks who may not have the future of these institutions at heart, characters like Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman are bigger than life.  They're bigger than any one storyteller, good or bad.  They've stood the time of time and they endure.  For better or for worse, they're a part of our cultural history, and they persist.  Batman has had a few bad movies.  Superman has had a few bad movies.  Wonder Woman had a damn awful one called Wonder Woman 1984.  And yet?  They're still viable heroes with a bright tomorrow.

Can Gunn produce a successful incarnation?

Only time will tell.

​-- EZ

Folks, it isn't always easy to do the job I try to do (somewhat) daily on SciFiHistory.Net.

Essentially, I spend a lot of time trying to dig through the Information Superhighway seeking bits and pieces of genre films, television series, books, and more with the hope that I can bring you something a bit different each post.  As you can imagine, researching some of these -- ahem -- older projects doesn't always bear fruit, as it were, and that's the case with a little flick called The Flying Serpent, first released on this day in the United States all the day back in the year of 1946, well before most of you -- and even me -- were born.

IMDB.com reports that this little Horror/Fantasy was directed by Sam Newfield.  His profile suggests that he was a somewhat wildly prolific B-Movie director, bringing to life an astonishing library of 277 different films.  (Wowza!)  It does appear -- at first glance -- that the sheer bulk of his work was in conventional properties -- dramas, comedies, thrillers, and a ton of Westerns -- but I do see The Flying Serpent in there along with Ghost Patrol (1936), The Invisible Killer (1939), The Monster Maker (1944), Lost Continent (1951), and Gigantis The Fire Monster (1959).  So while the storyteller may not have been an expert at Science Fiction and/or Fantasy it's clear that he wasn't a novice.  The script shows attributed to John T. Neville, and -- interestingly enough -- it's the screenwriter's last project of record (outside of a little something his work was used as inspiration for in 2017, nearly five decades after his 1970 passing).

The feature was produced by Sigmund Neufeld Productions, and several of the other pictures mentioned above were also part and parcel of their overall library.  IMDB.com shows that the company opened its doors in 1936 and shut down effectively with their last release in 1956.

But -- as I said above -- there really isn't all that much written about Serpent.

It does look like critics may've lambasted it as being heavily derivative.  A citation on the film's Wikipedia.org page states that it thematically plays out like a copy of 1940's The Devil Bat, but -- not having seen this one -- I really can't comment on the veracity of the comparison.

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

"The demented archaeologist Dr. Andrew Forbes discovers a living, breathing serpent-creature known to the Aztecs as Quetzalcoatl, the Killer Bird God. Tragically, he causes his wife's death by giving her one of the beast's feathers, causing the creature to track her down and slaughter her. Now, Dr. Forbes uses this twisted knowledge to exact revenge upon his enemies by placing one of the serpent's feathers on each of his intended victims and letting the beast loose to wreak havoc."

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

-- EZ
​

Holy mother of dragons ... do you kiddies know what?  I have a vague recollection ... but I think I actually saw this one in theaters when it originally premiered in the United States!

Dear God!

And -- if memory serves -- I believe I rather appropriately dubbed it 'The Crappening' to friends and family who asked about it.

Sigh.

1986's Highlander remains one of the most beloved cult films of all time, and I suppose that there's nothing wrong with that.  It has its own benign charm, and it certainly has had an incredible number of home video releases over the years that I think generations will be able to discover it for the next century.  But, alas, Highlander II: The Quickening was a bit awful, a bit confusing, and a bit uninspired, to say the least.  Yes, yes, yes, I'm aware that it's been tinkered with over the years as well, and the home video market has enjoyed a couple of different versions of the film's original story ... but if a plot lends itself to being so easily recreated in an entirely different iteration, then it is truly a tale deserving to stand on its own two feet ... without its head being decapitated?

Directed by Russell Mulcahy, the SciFi/Fantasy starred Christopher Lambert and Sean Connery returning to the roles they made famous in the original.  They were joined by the ever-luminous Virginia Madsen (be still my heart), genre legend Michael Ironside, and funnyman John C. McGinley in some big, big roles.  Here's the plot summary as provided by our friends at IMDB.com:

"In the future, Highlander Connor MacLeod must prevent the destruction of Earth under an anti-ozone shield."

Now, mark my words: it isn't as if I think that the whole Highlander idea is a bad one because it's not.  Highlander II -- as awful as it might be -- certainly didn't spell the end to this ongoing battle of the Immortals all vying to -- in the end -- be the last man standing.  In fact, the 1990's were very good to the Highlander as I think that there were two series associated to it, a few more films, and then even a few more films based off of that series.  Wasn't there even a short-lived animated program?  I could be wrong on that one, but I think that there was.  I'll Google it when I have time.

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

-- EZ
​

Back in my college days, I read a great deal about the works of the revered Orson Welles.
 
See, I was raised in an era wherein his Citizen Kane (1941) was the cinematic benchmark of record.  (It still is, so far as this old mind is concerned.)  Fascinated with the film, I rather ravenously read anything I could get my hands on, including sources the college library could borrow via some intra-institution network.  (This was well before the days of the internet, young readers.)  In fact, almost any opportunity I had to write a paper for whatever the class, I tried to make it about some element of Kane.  I dissected the picture from almost every angle I could, and I even hosted a screening of it (alongside a faculty cosponsor) for students, professors, and the community.  (Yes, it had a respectable turnout even for a small Midwestern town.)  Though I don’t consider myself an expert in any regard, I will concede that I know more than your average bear.
 
So it was very natural for me to begin to dig deeper into the filmmaker’s other works, and the one that was almost always recommended to me for study was 1947’s The Lady From Shanghai.  It certainly came up an awful lot in my reading, and – when I finally sat through it – I could understand and appreciate why, though I disagreed with those who felt it was as fulfilling a feast as was Kane.  Unlike the Welles’ debut, Shanghai felt more than a bit incomplete in places, if not even a bit of a step backward as to how much he had pioneered a new way of storytelling in the 1941 feature.  Much of this is owed, I believe, to the fact that the filmmaker never finished the project as he intended, leaving the end result an occasionally cock-eyed masterpiece in search of all its parts.
 
(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 product packaging:
“Hired to work on a yacht belonging to the disabled husband of femme fatale Rita Hayworth, Welles plays an innocent man drawn into a dangerous web of intrigue and murder.”
 
Let it be known: there has been a great deal written about The Lady From Shanghai.
 
Quite frankly, there’s been so much written that it grows difficult to even attempt summarizing the whole affair briefly, so let’s just understand that the film – before, during, and after its production – has been the subject of great controversy.  Its conception alone is a topic that defies a conventional explanation, and – given the fact that its two stars (Welles and Hayworth) were in the midst of a tumultuous marital separation at the time of its making – I doubt that we’ll ever truly know the bottom line of what its true potential was: the first cut clocked in at an incredible 150 minutes while the finished product runs a mere 88 minutes.  What was lost?  Like I said, we’ll never really know.
 
So … setting aside all of that fodder, we’re left with a film that both resembles other film noirs of its day but has a bit something extra, that being some of the screen’s more dazzling visuals as provided by the master himself, Orson Welles.  The storyteller had his own unique style, much of which has been historically tied to the use of deep focus photography, allowing the director to cram an awful lot of substance (i.e. nuance and subtext) into each and every frame.  In my opinion, none of it here quite approaches the level he achieved with Citizen Kane (1941) – a bravura performance on every conceivable level – and that’s likely owed in part to the fact that Shanghai was taken away from the director and given over to another editor in post.  As a result, whatever spell Welles ultimately hoped to weave here likely never made it to the screen or only survives in unconnected pieces.
 
Considering what we’re left with, Shanghai only occasionally achieves a level of effective storytelling, instead leaving an awful lot to be desired.
​

For instance, our central hero/antihero Michael O’Hara (played by Welles) vacillates between a thoughtful braggard and an outright bully, never quite emerging as a force viewers might follow on this dark journey of deceit.  In Welles’ hands, O’Hara is still probably the most quotable seaman since Hemingway.  Femme fatale Elsa Bannister (Rita Hayworth) hints at a dark past – one that surprisingly got past film censors of the day – but clearly might’ve been more involved in her present day as Shanghai’s ending suggests she had access to a somewhat larger criminal enterprise possibly involving some of San Francisco’s Chinatown.  She’s obviously a force to be reckoned with, but Welles’ script (as presented) never clearly spells out the necessary particulars.  Arthur Bannister (Everett Sloane) is one part man and two parts legal mastermind whose power over others appears to take the shape of his operating outside the law.  (Blackmail is mentioned twice, I believe, but I could be wrong.)  Yet, whatever illicit secrets he keeps we’re never privy to, giving the character a less authentic feel than I would’ve liked.  And George Grisby (Glenn Anders) inhabits one of filmdom’s creepiest lawyers on celluloid, delivering scene after scene highlighted by some of the strangest lines and off-kilter proselytizing of screen record.  It’s a gem of a performance in a flick that should’ve made more sense.
 
At its core, I suspect that Welles intended for Shanghai to be an observation on the evil that exists between a certain caste of people, and that’s my only honest guess.  While O’Hara is far from squeaky clean (his past suggests more than a few run-ins with authority as well as his fellow man), there’s still a bit of an everyman quality to him, one who functions from a foundation of ‘don’t wrong me, and I won’t wrong you.’  He’s dragged against his best judgment into this skullduggery via his own shortcomings with physical lust, and – like those he inevitably serves, observes, and ultimately defies – he’s shackled with consequences as a result of his participation.  He’ll spend the remainder of his days recalling his part in the sordid affair – a fair cost for his momentary weakness – but the true instigators punched their tickets with the exchange of their mortal souls, a heavier price indeed.
 
Lastly, I’d be remiss in my duties in this space if I failed to mention that, in 2018, the U.S.’s National Film Preservation Board inducted Shanghai into the National Film Registry.  For those unawares, the Registry selects twenty-five pictures each year to add to its vaults seeking to preserve features that have shown historical, cultural, and aesthetic contribution to the medium.  Such an induction certainly underscores the relevance of the completed product: I just wish that, additively, the picture made a bit more sense.
 
The Lady From Shanghai (1947) was produced by Mercury Productions.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good people at Kino Lorber.  As for the technical specifications?  Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights and sound of this black-and-white classic were fabulous from start-to-finish.  As for the special features?  The disc boast an incredible three commentary tracks (film historian Imogen Sara Smith, critic Tim Lucas, and filmmaker Peter Bogdanovich all dissect the picture and, frankly, there’s a great deal of overlap), some extra observations by Bogdanovich and film noir historian Eddie Muller, and the theatrical trailer.  So – yes – there’s a great deal of information available that should keep fans interested for hours.
 
Highly recommended.
 
As imperfect as it is, The Lady From Shanghai is one of the motion pictures that’s gloriously imperfect, offering up ample opportunity to sit and watch the genius of Orson Welles at work, even when his trickery might be at the expense of a functional narrative.  Alas, film noirs have rarely made perfect sense, so don’t look for this film’s storyline and characters to add up to anything more than a crew of mismatched strangers coming together and falling apart between the rise of action until the credits roll.  Gloriously imperfect?  Why, that’s likely a phrase even Orson would approve …
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Lady From Shanghai (1947) 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

I think there's a bit of wisdom in thinking and writing about film, but it escapes you entirely until you come to the realization that not every picture is intended for your liking or disliking.  Each has to be 'measured' on its own merits, ignoring some of one's preconceived notions about what makes a story compelling as well as what makes a journey worthwhile.  That's not always an easy thing because -- after all -- we're all human, so it can be challenging to disconnect from some of what you know and believe in order to give each flick its own space in your head.

​For example, regular readers here know that I have my issues with what I'd argue is the overuse of CGI in filmdom.  I'm not picking on any feature when I suggest that storytellers -- those who can afford the really, really good CGI -- have come to rely on it a bit too heavily in delivering cinematic flair for those in the audience; but such trickery is really the province of an all new generation of viewers.  Heck, whole films get assembled in post-production these days, so those of us who prefer the more practical approaches over videogame trickery are, sadly, a dying breed.

Sigh.  It sucks getting old, folks.  Get used to it.

​In any event, I first watched Alita: Battle Angel on cable, and this was during a bit of online promotion wherein the franchise's more ardent fans were claiming this was the Second Coming of cinema.  I'm pretty good at ignoring that hyperbole -- the film is very good, despite an occasionally predictable script (in part) from Hollywood's legendary wizard James Cameron, but it ain't Casablanca, folks -- but such campaigns do have a habit of pushing my buttons to the negative.  Were I a few decades younger, then maybe I could've better understood the fanfare a bit more; but I will say that where I agreed with their screaming lot is that I think Alita was, perhaps, one of the best examples that tapped into the potential of anime with a live action construct.

(Yes, yes, yes: I'm aware that rendering most of a film in CGI kinda/sorta defeats the 'live action construct,' but methinks you get my point.)

The Japan animation scene isn't for everything, mind you, and that's mostly because it has its own style, pace, and general storytelling sensibilities.  Alita -- with all of its strengths and weaknesses -- might be one of the first Western films that successfully embraced a lot of those and delivered something audiences worldwide could both understand, relate to, and cheer.  That's the trick, you know: a project has to come together in such a way as to garner fans around the globe in order to be a legitimate phenomenon ... otherwise it'll never quite transcend a cult appeal and become a bit more conventional.

Still, even someone -- let's say the average moviegoer -- who hasn't watched so much as an hour of Star Wars or Star Trek know of those franchises' existence.  It's very likely that those folks have heard of Luke Skywalker, Darth Vader, Captain Kirk, and Mr. Spock.  The same cannot be said of Alita, and I'm thinking it'll take much more than a single adventure up in the lights to truly give that Battle Angel the legs -- cybernetic or not -- she needs to join the growing legion of genre heroes who do great service on the silver screen.  I don't say that as an insult; it's just the reality of where this possible franchise stands in its current state.

I'm all in for another one.  Now that Cameron and director Robert Rodriguez have dispensed with an origins picture the real battle can begin.

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

​"A deactivated cyborg's revived, but can't remember anything of her past and goes on a quest to find out who she is."

Much like Joss Whedon's Firefly franchise, Alita has an incredible support system of fans and enthusiasts online that are constantly (and I do mean constantly) singing her praises, and that's great.  Hopefully they'll keep banging on that drum at each and every opportunity.  The feature's box office receipts were likely not as high as the producers had hoped, but who among us hasn't rooted for the underdog on more than a single occasion?  If the stars properly align, Alita's time will come -- either in the form of a sequel or maybe even a limited series on some streaming platform -- and those fans will cheer its continuation ... as well they should.

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

-- EZ
​

Truth be told: I fell in love with Lucy Griffiths many moons ago.

Back in the day, she put in some solid period and genre work as 'Maid Marian' aboard the BBC’s occasionally campy Robin Hood (2006-2009).  A few years later, she turned up aboard HBO’s True Blood, though her character – Nora Gainsborough – was sadly relegated to second-tier status, essentially a supporting player to Alexander Skarsgård’s Eric Northman.  So I was delighted to discover her as one of the leads aboard 2015’s Uncanny, a clever and thought-provoking SciFi potboiler that deserves to find an audience as big as its ideas.
 
(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 three paragraphs for my final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the product packaging:
“For ten years, inventor David Kressen has lived in seclusion with his inventions, including Adam, a robot with incredible lifelike human qualities.  When reporter Joy Andrews is given access to their unconventional facility, she is alternately repelled and attracted to the scientist and his creation.  But as Adam exhibits emergent behavior of anger and jealousy towards her, she finds herself increasingly entangled in a web of deception where no one’s motives are easily decipherable.”
 
Readers are quick to lambast me for taking more than a few words to tell you what I thought of a new release, so I’ll try to keep all of this as simple and sweet as possible, tying that in with my affection for the simple and sweet Lucy Griffiths.  She’s at times subtle, at times luminescent in this star-crossed triangle where woman meets man and machine.  In ways, it’s a mildly predictable tale – anytime testosterone edges out the estrogen there’s bound to be a conflict – but it’s still nonetheless ably delivered and smartly performed by Griffiths and her co-stars, Mark Webber and David Clayton Rogers.
 
Andrews (Griffiths) meets this cybernetically-inclined Odd Couple, and sparks don’t exactly fly.  Because she’s established her credentials in the publishing industry as the ‘go-to’ gal for most things robotics, she’s naturally intrigued by what she learns Dr. Kressen (Webber) has achieved in the comfort and privacy of his own home/lab/condo: the all-too-obviously-named Adam (Rogers) might just be the real deal – the first walking, talking, fully humanoid Artificial Intelligence … suddenly starts to veer into creepy territory when Adam begins exhibiting some inclinations both ‘hot’ and ‘bothered’ for our lady Andrews.

​(Wink/wink: can’t say that I blame ‘im!)
​

From there, Shahin Chandrasoma’s smart script traffics in some far more conventional and bubbly territory (“Do androids dream wet dreams?”) as Adam’s fatal attraction starts to look more Demon Seed (1977) than it does Short Circuit (1986).  Sequences show him in his private time exploring live porn on the internet, and he even manages to cleverly position a webcam (of sorts) in Joy’s apartment, a development that earns both the android and audiences the welcome turn at Joy’s partial butt crack.  (The things a robot does for love!)  From there, his obsession grows, but – as cruel plot subroutines would have it – the reporter is drawn to the inventor’s more stoic and subtler genius (Webber is full-on channeling The Big Bang Theory's Jim Parsons at this point), and this is where Uncanny draws much of its uncanniness for its final act.
 
Like many SciFi thrillers that have come before have done, Uncanny's story relies on a narrative sleight of hand (things are decidedly NOT what they seem, kinda/sorta in that ol’ M. Night Shyamalan way of motion picture storytelling), and no doubt viewers might notice some of Chandrasoma and director Leutwyler’s more obvious misdirections (I won’t spoil it).  This certainly isn’t a perfect potboiler, but I’d argue it was never entirely meant to be: instead, Uncanny finishes as it starts, always being more about the human condition that it ever truly was anything robotic … and that may be the harshest lesson for both man and machine of all.
 
Granted, this is the kind of film that nerds, geeks, and general SciFi enthusiasts will have a blast with (with, as a said, some reservations for its more ‘soapy’ elements); but it’s also the type of feature which might win the genre some crossover appeal: Griffiths and her suitors are all lookers, and Uncanny might just turn out to be one of those unheard-of releases that finds itself the recipient of solid word-of-mouth.
 
Uncanny (2015) is produced by Accelerated Matter, Shoreline Entertainment, Emergent Behavior, Ambush Entertainment, and Uncanny.  DVD distribution is being handled by the reliable RLJ Entertainment and Image Entertainment.  As for the technical specifications?  Director Matthew Leutwyler does an impressive job sighting and sounding the picture, though some of the close-ups seemed a wee bit too high (or too low) and the flick is adorned with those God awful JJ Abrams’ lens flares far too often.  Packaging states that there is closed captioned for the Hearing-Impaired (though there was no specific subtitling track that I could find).  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then you have about 10 minutes of deleted scenes (nothing all that grand, so far as I found).
 
Highly recommended.

I’m a SciFi junkie, and that means there are parts of Uncanny that I just couldn’t get enough of – the classic misdirect, the nuanced discussions of artificial intelligence, etc.  Granted, I could’ve done without the JJ Abrams’ lens flare effects constantly peppering the screen and some of the more obvious potboiler elements could’ve been dialed back just a bit … but – in the end – I’m still left with a smart, excellently conceived, and well performed cautionary tale about what’s likely going on psychologically behind-the-scenes in the whole man-versus-machine smackdown.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Image Entertainment and RLJ Entertainment provided me with a DVD of Uncanny 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

For the record, Uncanny is one of those smaller, indie-style features that -- in case you missed it -- you shouldn't be all that surprised.  Sadly, features like this come-and-go across the industry, seeping in and out of DVD release schedules and/or streaming calendars so quickly that it ought to make our collective heads spin.  But unlike so many other pictures, this one deserves a bit of attention if not a smidgeon more reflection.  I've seen it -- I received a complimentary DVD release of it back in the day -- and I'll update my files on SciFiHistory.Net later today -- and I thought it was very interesting, though perhaps a bit predictable in a few spots.

​What I can say about the Shahin Chandrasoma script (without spoiling too much of its -- ahem -- twist ending) is that it probably would've been better served to have had a larger cast, one fleshed out with just a few more characters.  (Yes, yes, yes: I understand all too well that it was kinda/sorta designed to be this intimate three-way relationship between an A.I., its creator, and a lovely reporter.)  The downside to its twist is that -- because the cast is small -- it isn't hard to see certain elements of it coming, so when the reveal takes place it may not have had quite as much dramatic impact as it could have were the characters able to hide it amongst a crowd of players.

Still, there's an efficiency to the picture -- it works 'well enough' to carry the premise and potential from start-to-finish -- and I will say that it's a shame that there hasn't been some follow-up.  It ends with a definite opening to go back into the universe as created (again, trying hard to not spoil it for you, folks), one that suggests there was definitely a bit more to this story.  Who knows?  Maybe all involved are taking a good amount of time to venture back into these waters ... or maybe this is all she wrote, as they say.  I'd be sad, were that the case, as it's ripe for another chapter the way this one winded down.

In any event, here's the film's plot summary as provided by the good people at IMDB.com:

"The world's first 'perfect' Artificial Intelligence begins to exhibit startling and unnerving emergent behavior when a reporter begins a relationship with the scientist who created it."

I'd be remiss in my duties as a Genre Historian if I failed to mention that Uncanny did garner a good amount of praise from screenings on the film festival circuit.  In fact, the big one -- the kind definitely worth mentioning in this space -- is the fact that it captured the 'Best Indie Film' trophy from the 2015 Boston Science Fiction Film Festival, and that definitely might be the number one credential encouraging my readers that it's a product worth your investment, if only for a single viewing.  Having seen it, I can add that it certainly helps if you're a fan of these human-looking-android style stories; it may not have all of the visual bells and whistles you get with big budget productions, but on ideas alone?  This one definitely had its cybernetic heart in the right place ...

... or did it?

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

​-- EZ

I don't often toot my own horn, folks, but -- when it comes to remakes and/or retreads -- I am not like most who write about film.

Generally speaking, I welcome them, and I think it's entirely natural for storytellers to want to build on an established legacy in a way that enhances the original while perhaps taking the property in new directions.  Add some flavor to the universe.  Give audiences a little something extra to both look at and think about.  My central requirements for a reboot is that -- minimally -- you have to have something compelling to enrich this cinematized reality: otherwise, it's going to ultimately feel like a cheap imitation.

Alas, that's exactly what RoboCop (2014 version) felt like: a cheap imitation.

Director Jose Padilha's incarnation of the crime-fighting cyborg really only enhanced the effects, maybe even streamlined the action with some newfangled camera trickery, and those two elements alone proved that the filmmakers and his creative crew failed to understand the charm of the original.  Yes, yes, yes: I get that they kept the kinda/sorta sardonic wit -- those moments of cultural parody that propelled so much of this world's humor -- but to do so they brought in Hollywood's biggest foul-mouth with Samuel L. Jackson (no offense, Sam), and again it just felt like it all was produced with the attitude of "we saw what you did, director Paul Verhoeven, and we can do it better."

Well?  You didn't, Jose.

And I say all of this with the full confession that I so very much love the work of Joel Kinnaman.  He's a fabulous talent -- genre projects included -- and I've no problem accepting him in the role of the central figure here.  I don't have any issues with his work in bringing Alex Murphy back to the screen.  I do think it's sad that he was pretty much saddled with an inferior script -- one that essentially tried to rehash far too many elements of the original to give him anything fresh, new, and different to do with the character -- but at the end of the day (or the end of the shoot) it is what it is.

​So ... once more ... just to clarify ... I didn't hate the film ... I generally speaking don't hate reboots ... I just saw this one as entirely unnecessary because it failed to try something authentically its own ... and flicks like that are always destined to wind up inferior.  Great effects and great post-production are all well and good ... but if you're not bringing a new idea?  Then I'm perfectly content to stick with the first and best incarnation of the cop from Old Detroit.

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

"In 2028 Detroit, when Alex Murphy, a loving husband, father and good cop, is critically injured in the line of duty, the multinational conglomerate OmniCorp sees their chance for a part-man, part-robot police officer."

As I always say, some of these announcements naturally hurt more than others.

I know that sentiment may offend some -- as the loss of every man (and woman) is tragic -- but the truth is we come to know some of these folks more than others.  Not every actor or actress gets the opportunities to play so many great characters in genre entertainment, and not every one of them takes the time to react with fandom the way some do.  Many do seek to live private lives -- opting out of social media entirely -- but Annie Wersching did put herself out there on Twitter.  I know this because I was tickled pink the day she liked a humble Tweet of mine.  She did, however, choose to live out her cancer diagnosis in private, I've read, and IMDB.com suggests that she made that choice in order to preserve the chance to continue working.

Leaving behind a resume of just under fifty different screen projects, Wersching got her small screen debut in an episode of Star Trek: Enterprise, playing the character of 'Liana' in an hour titled "Oasis."  But it wasn't all that long after that she really caught my eye, turning up in the role of 'Renee Walker' aboard one of the most incredible, adrenaline-fueled shows of the era, Fox TV's 24.  In between, she made stops in such properties as Birds Of Prey, Angel, Charmed, Supernatural, Journeyman, No Ordinary Family, Touch, Revolution, The Last Of Us (video game), Intelligence, Extant, The Vampire Diaries, Timeless, Marvel's Runaways, and the oft-maligned Star Trek:Picard ... where she brought to life no less than the Borg Queen for the streaming entity.

To her credit, Wersching and the cast of The Last Of Us won the coveted trophy for 'Best Vocal Ensemble in a Video Game' from the 2014 Behind The Voice Actors Awards.

Prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Ms. Wersching.  May she rest in peace.

​-- EZ