​About Fantastic Fest
Fantastic Fest is the largest genre film festival in the U.S., specializing in horror, fantasy, sci-fi, action and just plain fantastic movies from all around the world. In years past, the festival has been home to the world and US premieres of PARASITE, SMILE, JOJO RABBIT, THE BLACK PHONE, JOHN WICK, FRANKENWEENIE, THERE WILL BE BLOOD, APOCALYPTO, ZOMBIELAND, RED, SPLIT, HALLOWEEN, BAD TIMES AT THE EL ROYALE, MID 90s, and SUSPIRIA while the guest roster has included such talent as Tim Burton, Nicolas Winding-Refn, Lilly and Lana Wachowski, Bong Joon-Ho, Taika Waititi, Robert Rodriguez, Rian Johnson, Bill Murray, Keanu Reeves, Martin Landau, Winona Ryder, Edward Norton, Ryan Reynolds, Patrick Wilson, Matthew Fox, Karl Urban, Josh Hartnett, The RZA, Dolph Lundgren, Paul Rudd, Bill Pullman, Paul Thomas Anderson, Kevin Smith, Jon Favreau, George Romero, Darren Aronofsky, Mike Judge, Karyn Kusama, M. Night Shyamalan, James McAvoy, Vince Vaughn, Jamie Lee Curtis, Jonah Hill, Barbara Crampton and Jessica Harper. Fantastic Fest also features world, national, and regional premieres of new, up-and-coming genre films. Fantastic Fest has seen the acquisition of many titles, including BULLHEAD, KILL LIST, MONSTERS, KLOWN, THE FP, PENUMBRA, HERE COMES THE DEVIL, NO REST FOR THE WICKED, VANISHING WAVES, COMBAT GIRLS, I DECLARE WAR, THE PERFECTION, and TIGERS ARE NOT AFRAID. Fantastic Fest is held each year at the Alamo Drafthouse Cinema in Austin, Texas. Alamo Drafthouse has been named the best theater in the country by Entertainment Weekly, Wired, and TIME.

In March 2023, Fantastic Fest joined the FIAPF (International Federation of Film Producers’ Associations) as a Competitive Specialized Feature Film Festival alongside Cannes, Berlin and Venice.

About Alamo Drafthouse
Alamo Drafthouse Cinema was founded in 1997 as a single-screen mom and pop repertory theater in Austin, TX. Twenty-seven years later, with 41 locations and counting, Alamo Drafthouse has been called “the best theater in America” by Entertainment Weekly and “the best theater in the world” by Wired. Alamo Drafthouse has built a reputation as a movie lover’s oasis not only by combining best-in-class food and drink service with the movie-going experience, but also introducing unique programming and high-profile, star-studded special events. Alamo Drafthouse created Fantastic Fest, a world-renowned genre film festival dubbed “The Geek Telluride” by Variety featuring independents, international filmmakers, and major Hollywood studios. Alamo Drafthouse continues to expand its brand in new and exciting ways, including the American Genre Film Archive, a non-profit film archive dedicated to preserving, restoring and sharing film, and with several new theaters announced for this year and beyond.

About Sony Pictures Entertainment
Sony Pictures Entertainment (SPE) is a subsidiary of Tokyo-based Sony Group Corporation. SPE's global operations encompass motion picture production, acquisition, and distribution; television production, acquisition, and distribution; television networks; digital content creation and distribution; operation of studio facilities; and development of new entertainment products, services and technologies. Sony Pictures Television operates dozens of wholly-owned or joint-venture production companies around the world. SPE’s Motion Picture Group production organizations include Columbia Pictures, Screen Gems, TriStar Pictures, 3000 Pictures, Sony Pictures Animation, Stage 6 Films, AFFIRM Films, Sony Pictures International Productions, and Sony Pictures Classics. For additional information, visit http://www.sonypictures.com/corp/divisions.html 
​

There are a great many reasons why we as audiences love Horror movies.
 
For my money, however, I’ve always argued that it’s that great bit of stimulation that fuels our interest.  Our blood gets pumping over all of the screen tension.  We get mentally triggered by what we see up in the lights.  I’ve read that our brain and bodies release adrenaline to go along with the heady rush of excitement, and – albeit somewhat darkly – we’re forced to examine dire circumstances by wondering just how we might react in similar situations.  I’ve also heard that a seminal Horror experience can release endorphins that affect our mood, make us sense a bit of private euphoria at the expense of these fictional others, perhaps even making us secretly addicted to the thrill of being scared silly.  With as many pictures in the Horror library as there is, I’d even suggest that there’s a little something-something in our DNA that makes us crave these encounters.
 
Still, the danger of exploring addiction is that – in a general sense – it takes more of the delicate substance to produce that singular ‘high’ in perpetuity.  What worked yesterday grows a bit stale, so we ingest just a little bit more, turning our intake into things that might be grimmer if not bloodier.  This is why storytellers often experiment – especially in the Horror genre – with newer and stranger stimuluses: the usual beheading has been – if you’ll pardon the expression – ‘done to death,’ so they seek out bold strategies to push the limit.  The same can’t be said for Drama, Comedy, or even my beloved Science Fiction; but Horror filmmakers are always on the lookout for the most macabre additions they can deliver to a field of endless possibilities.
 
So perhaps every generation or so, mythmakers go back to the well of inspiration hoping to dredge up something that hasn’t been either seen before or – much more likely – hasn’t been seen in some time.  This is how I felt about Inbred (2011), an adequate chiller that takes a page out of such haunts as The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974), Cannibal Holocaust (1980), or Dead Alive (1992) by pouring buckets and buckets of gore into a central story about the descent into a literal nightmare.  While the film might differ in ways thematically, it still focuses on ramping up its bizarre imagery with every opportunity, never stopping to even suspect it might be going to excesses.   While some who love Horror worship at this trough, I usually want a bit more than oddball characters to steady the rocky road.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
​

From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Four young offenders and their care workers visit the remote Yorkshire village of Mortlake, which prides on keeping itself to itself. A minor incident with locals rapidly escalates into a blood-soaked, deliriously warped nightmare.”
 
Viewers looking for any measure of complexity are likely going to be widely disappointed with Inbred.
 
Written by the team of Alex Chandon (who also directs) and Paul Shrimpton, the flick is little more than an excuse to experiment with torture porn.  Setting a husband/wife team of social workers and their collection of foster children in a rural community to kinda/sorta ‘renew their collective energies,’ the story then has these nonconformists clashing violently with some authentic dissenters: it’s suggested that this tribe of mild yet bloodthirsty mutants are descended from patients locked away in local insane asylums that were eventually forsaken by government and society, so they’ve been reproducing one bad seed after another.  To entertain themselves, they abduct anyone remotely normal who ventures into the area, forcing them to die in increasingly theatrical spectacles rendered out in their own ghoulish circus big-top.
 
Jeff (played by James Doherty) and Kate (Jo Hartley) headline as the foster couple.  This small cadre of rambunctious teens (James Burrows, Terry Haywood, Chris Waller, and Nadine Mulkerrin) aren’t really all that violent or aggressive, though there are strong hints at the usual resentment of authority or the usual territorial issues that go with misdirected anger.  After banding together to clean-up the weekend retreat home that Jeff has rented for the excursion in the country, they head into town for a night at the local pub; and this is their first exposure to the odd cast of players who comprise the local populace.  Unkempt appearances and broken teeth aside, it’s pretty clear that these inhabitants are about as far from normal as one might expect, even though the affable barkeep Jim (Seamus O’Neill) insists all is well.
 
The next day, the makeshift family heads out to a railway graveyard – an open field packed with abandoned old rail cars whose parts and pieces can be reclaimed by civic-minded volunteers – and this is where ‘the fun’ begins.  After a few of the local ruffians try to have their way with Sam (Nadine Mulkerrin), Jeff steps in and is seriously injured when he falls amidst some wreckage and severs an artery in his leg.  Quickly, the family haul him by wheelbarrow into town, hoping that someone can call for assistance, only to find Jim ready, willing, and able to lop Jeff’s head off with a meat cleaver in order to ease the man’s suffering.
 
From here, Inbred descends into a veritable hellscape.  It turns out that these locals entertain themselves by torturing tourists to death in a circus-like venue, and this family of six has only just begun to assess a measure of what true pain is.  With his mug buried under blackface (for no specific reason I’m aware of), Jim serves as the ringmaster over the bloodiest sideshow thinkable, his audience of misshapen townies clapping with stones to their delight.  It doesn’t last all that long, fortunately, as escape and pursuit always come into play in features of this type, with the feisty Kate doing all she can to keep her makeshift family safe and sound for as long as Fate allows.
 
Plot points aside, Inbred is static otherwise.
​

Frankly, it’s the kind of premise where one typically knows what’s in store – when you know, you know – and it never varies from the path that’s been trod before.  Subsequent kills serve only to ramp up the bloodiness, and the family – ever shrinking in numbers – still tries to make their last stands though with increasingly foolish methodology.  When it comes to victims, Horror has never been known for showcasing the best and the brightest – yes, Inbred keeps up the tradition of fugitives making stupid ideas and paying the consequences for their ignorance.  As such, the film revels in dispatching them one by one in foreseeable style.  The audience is meant to delight in their respective demises almost as much as the inbred – that’s what it’s all about, after all – and the flick even manages to completely blow the whole ‘Final Girl’ theory into bloody bits and pieces in the last reel.
 
As a one-off experience, Inbred is good enough to entertain, but I don’t think it has much reusability.  Back in the days of the home video explosion, it likely would’ve been one of those popular rentals that found life owed mostly to positive word-of-mouth from fans who crave this strong measure of depravity.  I’m not sure that phenomenon exists any longer, and yet I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that it garnered a respectable cult following.  As I said in my preamble, it feels similar enough to features that have gone on and outlived its initial screening runs; but the lack of any true originality might hold it back from securing anything greater than the sum of its body parts.
 
Inbred (2011) was produced by New Flesh Films and Split Second Films.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the provided sights-and-sounds were exceptional most of the time: given that the story winds up flirting with torture sequences and quick kills in spots, there are some small effects sequences that are a bit obvious.  Such is life … and death, I’m told.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Well, I couldn’t get the disc I was provided to even access a main menu, so I’m believing that there isn’t a one on here.  While something extra would’ve been nice, I’m also not that sure I would’ve spent a great deal of time with it.
 
Recommended, but …
 
With as good a vicarious and visceral experience that Inbred (2011) occasionally turns out to be, the film still can’t effectively shake the fact that all involved – the cast and crew – maximized their efforts around creating a cult film for a niche audience.  Everything in here feels as if it was intentionally crafted to exploit whatever ‘gratuitous for gratuitous’ sake’ development to exceed everyone’s expectations.  As a result, it does limp into predictability in its last reel – especially when characters just start making dumber and dumber and dumber decisions in their bids to defend themselves – and never quite recovers.  There’s no doubt a certain crowd will embrace its sheer lunacy but that’s assuming they ever find it.  The Horror marketplace isn’t exactly slim pickings, you know.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Inbred (2011) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

There’s no denying that beauty comes with an incredibly high price tag.
 
Looks – or general attractiveness – is a subject I don’t much cover ‘round these parts, mostly because I don’t attach a whole lot of meaning to it as a concept.  I’ve always been more of a story person, and whoever gets cast in the big or small roles has never been something I’ve put much thought into.  For example, I’m not one to go gaga over the next Brad Pitt project much less the upcoming major motion picture next in line for Margot Robbie: as I said, my schtick has always been to focus more on the ideas being presented and just what I’m supposed to make of it all.  Pretty faces come and go far too fast for me to associate anything substantially to them; and Hollywood has proven that it’s a mill that’ll churn out the next Brad, Margot, and whoever is pleasing to the eye as soon as they can.
 
But it is one of the big rules in Hollywood that a pretty face or a flattering figure speaks volumes to what any studio perceives could be a lucrative bottom line; and – as such – those key players in Tinseltown have continued to push the boundaries in ways too many to fathom.  Indeed, there’s no other place on the entire planet that has made beauty the central pursuit of so, so, so many.  After all, good-looking people are more successful, no?  Good-looking people make the world go round.  Every one of us – at one time or another – has relied on his or her good looks – if not prayed for them – to open a door to a job, a career, or even a significant other of our choice.  Beauty sells, and everyone is buying.
 
As good as it is (and it is very good), 2024’s The Substance will be remembered as a cautionary fable about being extremely careful what you seek in an industry that is only skin deep.  Written and directed by French sensation Coralie Fargeat, it’s a story that we’ve honestly seen before but perhaps not at the same degree of viciousness directed specifically at the entertainment industry, the very people who have profited off allure since the camera’s invention.  It stars Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley as ‘two halves of the same whole’ (don’t fret – it’ll make sense) along with screen veteran Dennis Quaid in a key role.  Still, the real stars here might be the gifted craftspeople who make it about as bloody, chaotic, and horrific as any surreal Satire with a Science Fiction edge could ever possibly be.
 
It's a veritable feast for the eyes … but with beauty as its foundation should you have expected anything less?
​

(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 minor hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A fading celebrity decides to use a black-market drug, a cell-replicating substance that temporarily creates a younger, better version of herself.”
 
There are a great many truisms that collide within the framework of The Substance, and it’s these various collisions that make the film work on its many levels.
 
For example, one need not be a marquee screen idol to understand the value of keeping one’s looks in some good shape.  As aging takes its toll, we’re cautioned to eat better, to exercise a bit more, and to generally take better care of ourselves.  I’ve heard it said that our bodies is the only real vehicle we get in this wild ride of life, so it becomes increasingly important to insure that we’re doing everything possible to make it last.  Despite the best efforts of scientists, we still have no access to trade-in models.
 
Also, success has always been a key motivator in just about any professional or personal pursuit.  Of course, we always want to do well – to give it our all and see some return for our investments – but nothing replaces the absolute euphoria that goes hand-in-hand with achieving a big win, am I right?  Closing that big sale, penning a particularly effective movie review (and seeing it widely read), or seeing one’s child walk up to home plate and hit a homerun produces a rush of excitement unlike anything else in life … well, with perhaps sex being the only exception.  Doing good feeds our self-esteem, and doing exceptional helps us open doors to even greater successes.
 
Because The Substance – for the most part – obsesses over such concepts that everyone can relate to, the film rather easily hits that ball out of the park.  No matter what your lot in life is, I suspect you can identify with Elisabeth Sparkle’s coming to terms with her fading glory even though she attaches so much of it to her sex appeal.  Yes, that’s debatably the business she’s in as a morning fitness enthusiast who puts her viewing audiences through their sweaty paces for a major television network; but that core association between her (as a character) and us (as her audience) remains applicable despite a bit of glamorization of a lifestyle few of us will live to experience.
​

While behind the wheel of her car, Elisabeth is distracted momentarily by one of her billboards being ripped down; and she finds herself in an accident requiring medical attention.  In the hospital and emotionally exhausted, she eventually breaks down in tears, leaving her attending physician to exit stage left because he’s not apt to deal with a crying woman.  However, the attending male nurse politely suggests – after a cursory exam of her back – that she could be a good candidate for something unsaid.  After she leaves the building, she discovers a flash drive in her coat pocket along with a note that simply reads: “This saved my life.”
 
On the drive, Elisabeth discovers an advertisement for something called the Substance, a chemical that apparently offers the opportunity for – ahem – another you.  Initially, she dismisses it, but it isn’t long before her nagging frustration gets the better of her, and she calls to place an order.  A day or two later, she receives a key card that opens the door to a secret place in the bad part of town.  Inside, she matches her card to a safety deposit box that contains her very first treatment for this unheard-of science.
 
There’s a bit more to the program, but I’ll stop there for fear of spoiling too many of the discoveries waiting for your time with The Substance.  It’s a slow-burning delight – a bit fat in a few spots – but that’s probably as Fargeat intended.  As often happens with parables of this type, there are rules that must be followed – often severely – in order for the formula to work (that pumpkin’s not always going to be a carriage, especially not after midnight, Cinderella); and there’s always a breakdown of procedure that opens doors to the darkest, wildest destinations.  Yes, that definitely happens here, and it’s pretty damn glorious.  Just as temporal dynamics suggest that there can’t be two of you occupying the same space without the resulting galactic catastrophe, the same moral of the story comes into play in the film’s second half when Sue (Margaret Qualley) – Elisabeth’s somewhat young doppelganger – decides she needs a bit more ‘me time’ in defiance of the prescribed doctrine.   Needless to say, neither lady emerges quite the same as they were when they went into this bold agreement; and viewers are encouraged to buckle up for a finish that’s spills more blood than any single body could ever retain.
 
Now, this isn’t to say that I was completely won over by The Substance.
 
As a message film, it isn’t as if this premise hasn’t been probed before.  A good many storytellers have sounded off on our cultural obsession with perfection (or the pursuit of it), though I will say I’ve rarely experienced one with as much gore.  (Seriously, there are buckets and buckets and buckets of blood once it starts flowing, along with some amazing costuming and prosthetic work that hasn’t been industry used in ages.)  Many in the media have christened the story as a Body Horror – a unique subset of the genre that focuses on grotesque violations to the human body or whatever creature is at the center of the tale – and that’s unarguably true.  But far more of the picture works thematically as a biting but still somewhat conventional satire, and on that front it’s a vastly stronger and far more relevant effort.
​

Also, in the first half of the film, there are sequences that just don’t resonate as strongly with me as perhaps they’ve done with others (i.e. Dennis Quaid – as an overtly misogynistic studio executive – delivers a great performance but it borders a bit too closely to outright parody at times).  They’re often amplified with curious sound choices and uncharacteristic or oddly framed close-ups, and it’s all meant to rather lazily amplify the director’s condemnation of bad behavior, beauty versus ugliness, or the general lack of social norms.  Again, this has been done before elsewhere, and I found it growing tiresome quickly.  Sadly (and in typical Hollywood fashion), Fargeat denies her lead females any positive male roles models while rather shamelessly allowing Elisabeth and Sue to literally beat each other up.  In doing so, the film eliminates any culpability whatsoever on the phenomenon of females contributing to proliferation of unhealthy body stereotypes, and I think that’s an oversight.
 
Honestly, on this topic, I think there’s plenty of blame to go around … yet I’m not convinced that Fargeat would agree.
 
The Substance (2024) was produced by Blacksmith, Film France, and Working Title Films.  A quick search of Google.com indicates that the film is playing theatrical across the United States.  As for the technical specifications?  Wow.  I don’t say this lightly, but – even though I’m no trained video expert – I thought this flick looked damn phenomenal from start-to-finish.  It’s the kind of production that deserves to be studied – maybe even looked at casually by general audiences – because there’s something worth noticing in arguably every sequence if not every frame.  (I know, I know: that might be a bit of hyperbole, but it’s one of those rare cinematic experiences that doesn’t come along every day, so take it for how I’ve intended.)  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Alas, I viewed this one via streaming; as such, there were no special features under consideration.
 
Highly recommended.
 
Mind you: I don’t often agree with my ‘cultural betters,’ largely because I don’t always see the world in the same fashion they do … but I’d be a fool to argue against the remarkable visual palate that is so much of The Substance (2024).  As a didactic drama, it’s highly accessible to just about anyone, whether it be the messages about just what the pursuit of beauty costs, how elusive the Fountain of Youth remains, or how vile a society is that makes any gender go to such lengths to highlight attractiveness.  Though I think Fargeat’s indictment was a bit soft on the individuals involved – Elisabeth Sparkle took the first step down this dark spiral, regardless of the narrative framing – The Substance is a rare spectacle that accomplishes far more than most films ever conceive.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Working Title Films provided me with complimentary streaming access to The Substance (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Follows a struggling father who purchases a domestic SIM to help care for his house and family, unaware she will gain awareness and turn deadly.”
 
OK.  Let’s get something out of the way right now.
 
To its detriment, Subservience tries to employ a metaphor throughout its rather dark exploration of human coexisting peacefully alongside artificial intelligence beings – called SIMs – by utilizing Lewis Carroll’s Alice In Wonderland as a thematic foundation.  In fact, our lead synth is even named Alice (played by Megan Fox) by the family who purchases her, so it should go without saying that screenwriters Will Honley and April Maguire designed their story in the shadow of a fable that’s associated with such constructs as dreams versus reality, the loss of innocence, the nature of existence, and even the descent into madness.  Clearly, Subservience’s Alice experiences a life that touches on a lot of these ideas; and yet this is far from a kid-friendly extrapolation of a somewhat impressionable young girl finding her way in a universe that defies the imagination.
 
In fact, the chief problem I kinda/sorta have with all of that intellectualism is that here Alice confesses to having made a conscious decision entirely on her own very early on in the film that triggers the very descent requiring her dissolution.  She admits to wiping out her greatest safety protocols of her own free will when given a systems reboot by Nick (Michele Morrone) that she even surreptitiously led him to believe was going to grant him the desire for her to experience 1942’s Casablanca – one of the greatest films ever made – as if it were entirely brand new (and not a part of her programming).  While this little vignette within the wider film certainly gets to the heart of how we come to know what we know (as well as how we process it), the reality remains that Alice was far from the pure and wholesome Alice of the Carroll novel, thus destroying the metaphor.
 
In the book, the young protagonist was on her own journey of discovery, one that challenged her to grow and/or adapt but still manages to return to her old self (with a bit of maturity gained) in the finish.  In the movie, the adult Alice – while given a kinda/sorta wide-eyed propensity at embracing new events for learning (we’re told that her software allows her to always continue learning) – arguably begins on the path toward desolation entirely of her own free thinking and never matures.  To tell the God’s awful truth, she only grows progressively worse the more data she accumulates.
 
OK.  Glad I got that off my chest.
 
Still, Alice – as played by Fox – works fine throughout most of the drama here.
​

It isn’t as if there is any great requirement to portraying a mostly emotionless automaton – some might even call it ‘genius casting’ though I’d never insult any actor or actress’ gifts so directly – but Fox maintains a limited range of affecting responses that hint toward how synthetic men and women have been portrayed from Blade Runner (1982) all the way up to AMC’s Humans (2015-2018).  While there may not exactly be an innocence in any of it, there remains a plainness – almost an understated curiosity with the tilt of the head or the arch of an eyebrow – that conveys that those cerebral wheels are in motion.  She even manages to ‘stick the landing’ when Alice reverts to almost pure evil in the second half, never quite divulging her motivations with the usual facial expressions reserved for villains.
 
There’s vastly more to the story here than just being a (lite) sexual thriller.  Alice is purchased by Nick for the purposes of helping him to maintain the household while his wife Maggie (Madeline Zima) is hospitalized awaiting a heart transplant.  As such, there’s a bit more dimension to the robot’s relationships, and we’re treated to scenes of her cleaning, cook, and child-rearing – an infant and the young Isla (Matilda Firth).  Advertising and reviews might sidestep such domesticity in favor of promoting the film’s obviously more salacious storytelling, and there’s nothing wrong with that: my point in clarifying that there’s a bit more to the tale is only to present as fair and balanced a critique for the whole shebang … and not just the ‘banging’ itself, which does happen in Nick’s seminal moment of weakness.  He’s human, after all, and he has needs.  With her programming, Alice recognizes that and provides.
 
Also, Subservience does take a glimpse at just how far its fictional society has grown to embrace the use of these artificial people.  We see them as doctors and nurses.  We see them as construction workers and other support personnel.  We see them serving us drinks and food and trying to assist in other small yet meaningful ways.  There’s a brief exchange that suggests – for business purposes – that humans are still required to supervise the work being done by these creations, and Subservience surprisingly sidesteps any authentic dialogue about how a world that often abhors slavery has crafted an entire race of workers to do their bidding for a profit.
 
The downside here – again, so far as this critic is concerned – is that the material never quite differs in any profound way from what’s been tried and done before.  As I mentioned above, Blade Runner’s crowning achievement in portraying replicants who’ve grown attached to this thing called life was never in any risk of being taken away by anything in here as the script really sticks pretty closely to marital fidelity far too much of the time, never even attempting to give Alice any dimension more complex than becoming the ultimate suitor.  Humans took the better part of three seasons to eventually explore ideas of how synthetic people might ultimately strike out to find their own separate identities, but the various subplots did dabble with the conventional melodrama when it could be inserted into the wider premise.  Russia’s Better Than Us (2018-2019) series is probably a stronger comparison to Subservience in that both female leads found a road to travel that required breaking the rules; the fact that the film gets there in vastly shorter time isn’t exactly a selling point, but it likely will appeal to those who prefer a bit of skin in their Science Fiction diet.
​

Of course, I’d be remiss if I didn’t say a word or two about Fox’s casting, what it means, and whether or not she achieves anything noteworthy here.  As an actress, her career has often been shackled with discussions of her private life or what I think is safe to suggest a ‘limited range’ as a Thespian; while I’d never argue anything to the contrary with respect to her skills, I still believe she was acceptable in this capacity.  As a sex symbol for the modern era, it’s understandable how corporations might capitalize on such an image, produce a fleet of bots to satisfy whatever personal or private needs, and bank a significant profit.  Dismissing the irony that her professional career largely began in big screen robotics (2007’s Transformers) and knowing she’s kinda/sorta back in the same field, her work here remains understated, never resorting to anything big, brash, or bold and yet always sizzling with an understated sexuality.
 
Subservience (2024) was produced by Millennium Media.  A quick search of Google.com indicates that the film is available for digital rental or purchase on a variety of platforms.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the provided sights and sounds were very good from start-to-finish: there is no major reliance on Special Effects, and I think that’s a benefit to keeping the tale focused on human behaviors instead of inhuman prosthetics.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Alas, the disc I received included nada … a big miss as I definitely would’ve liked to know a bit more.
 
Recommended.
 
As a huge, huge, huge fan of intellectual properties that explore the complexity of creating lifelike synthetics and unleashing them upon society at large, I can assure that Subservience (2024) is far from the worst expose of coexistence but never quite approaches the best.  Though I’ve read a bit of online commentary suggesting actress Fox stalls the film’s momentum, I never found that to be the case.  In fact, I thought she stayed mostly true to how an artificial person might emote in limited and/or highly controlled fashion.  Yes, she embraces the sexual component perhaps a bit too aggressively once the script reaches those rather obvious intonations, but this is Hollywood, after all, and it’s stuff like that which sells tickets, you know.  That isn’t Fox’s fault.  That’s on us all.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at XYZ Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Subservience (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

Because I’m one who isn’t necessarily frightened off by a little bit of controversy, today I’m bringing up the name of author, poet, and screenwriter Roald Dahl.
 
Yes, I realize that modern times ain’t all that they’re cracked up to be, and some of you may have been a bit aghast when not all that long ago there was a cultural movement underway – albeit reasonably briefly – to see the written texts of the author edited.  Without going into the entire social debacle, 2023 saw one publisher hiring a team of ‘sensitivity experts’ to wade through their tomes within the Dahl catalogue and change the writer’s words in order to – ahem – reflect what they felt were better, more contemporary, and socially accepted words.  Eventually, the publisher relented, offering up ‘classic editions’ which would include the author’s original text; but – let me say – we live in dark times, indeed, when a producer might think nothing of essentially rewriting some of the greatest written words in all of the English language just to make a few complainers feel better.  If Dahl’s stuff offends you, how about going elsewhere?  Why must we reengineer timeless masterpieces to reflect an era in which they weren’t even imagined?
 
In any event, I’d long known that Dahl’s imprimatur had been attached to the long-running British television anthology Tales Of The Unexpected (1979-1988), and I’d wanted to check it out.  Of course, I was aware that while its various episodes weren’t always the stuff that I’d normally cover for SciFiHistory.Net; still, many of you know that I’ll apt to do what I want anyway, so there.  In many ways, I’ve surmised that Dahl’s work was close to Horror in much the same way that many of Alfred Hitchcock’s yarns are considered such; so I can live with that ‘close enough’ association.
 
Over the weekend, I sat down with “The Man From The South,” the pilot episode for Unexpected.  This first installment was directed by Michael Tuchner and adapted from Dahl’s story for the small screen by Kevin Goldstein-Jackson.  Dahl introduces the little chiller – much like Hitchcock and even Ray Bradbury had done in television anthologies bearing their respective names – and it stars José Ferrer, Michael Ontkean, Pamela Stephenson, Cyril Luckham, and Katy Jurado in key roles.  Set in sunny Jamaica, it all turns rather dark very quickly – delightfully so – and might be one of the finest thirty-minute capers I’ve ever stumbled upon.
 
Yes.  It’s that good.
 
(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 episode’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A young American couple on holiday meet a mysterious old gentleman who makes them a macabre wager.”
 
Others might disagree just a bit with my assessment on this episode, and that’s perfectly acceptable.  As I often opine, all here are free to make what they will of any story – I’ve no requirement that you like what I like – and it’s this difference of opinion that makes the world go ‘round.  Still, I would hope that by now if I encourage you that something is worth your time that you would take me seriously because I think “The Man From The South” is about as good – in small ways – that television dramas can get.
 
Is it wrong to covet?
 
For me that’s the core question posed in considering South.
​

Tommy (played by Michael Ontkean) – an American soldier on leave with others – frolics with a lovely lady he’s just met, Cathy (Pamela Stephenson) – and, sensing a welcome connection they retire from warm waters to a comfortable table along the hotel boardwalk.  It isn’t long before they begin chatting with two older men – Rawlsden (Cyril Luckham) and Carlos (José Ferrer) – about nothing consequential much less significant.  After an exchange of cigarettes, the inquisitive Carlos notices Tommy’s fondness for his American-made lighter, and the elder challenges, “Do you think you could light it ten times in a row?”
 
What conversation begins from a simple question of mechanical reliability soon turns to an all-out bet.  Carlos – an ostensibly wealthy patron of the resort – is willing to wager his white Jaguar as spoils for the contest, and Tommy – a humble soldier in service to his country – admits he has nothing comparable to pony up.
 
Carlos asks, “How about the little finger on your left hand?”
 
Everyone initially dismisses this as a ploy, but as the debate goes on Tommy comes to realize that the man is serious.  Naturally, the two have a bit of back-and-forth over the usefulness (or lack thereof) of a pinky finger; and it isn’t until Carlos has the young man sitting behind the wheel of his roadster out front that the soldier realizes that a car he could only ever dream about owning is nearly within his grasp.  All he need do is agree to the terms – a finger for an auto – and prove that his lighter is as good as it’s always been … and voila.
 
Now, I don’t want to spoil anything further because that’s the thrill that comes from stories of this type.  Rod Serling long ago showed himself to a veritable master of the twist endings, but – if South is any indication – Dahl arguably could give the veteran TV yarnspinner a run for his money.  The script is a wonderful exploration of how one simple construct can be stretched into a handful of tense scenes, and it never gets preachy about its subject matter nor judgmental over the mores of its various characters.  It sticks to presenting characters revolving around a premise, and it leaves condemnation entirely out of the spectrum.
 
As I said, I see South as an essay on the dangers of wanting something so bad that, perhaps, it clouds your mind to the reality of one’s circumstances.  There are always prices to be paid for ignorance, and nothing in life is ever as easy as it presents.  Tommy – somewhat blinded by his desire to possess the status machine of its era (and still highly regarded decades later) – sees an easy path to victory.  Such an achievement would be a legendary tale amongst friends and family, so if he could accomplish it then the reward vastly outweighs what he perceives as the possible and negligible risk – the loss of a finger.
 
After all, isn’t that – really – a small price to pay for greatness?
 
Thankfully, Tommy does learn a lesson.  I can only hope that he keeps it in heart and mind for the remainder of his days.
 
Tales Of The Unexpected’s “The Man From The South” was produced by Anglia Television.  The episode shows available via physical or digital purchase (or rental) via a variety of platforms and vendors.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the episode’s provided sights and sounds to be exception from start-to-finish.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  As I viewed this via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
 
Highly recommended.
 
Longtime readers of SciFiHistory.Net know of my fondness for anthologies, and I was thrilled to finally check out Roald Dahl’s Tales Of The Unexpected: the pilot episode – “The Man From The South” – is about as good as anything I’ve found by way of TV grade chills.  It’s far more conventional than it is unconventional, but the performances are all quite good – Ferrer makes this one more charming than it should be, and that’s a huge advantage given its finale.  Exceptionally entertaining … and it just might give you something to think about, too.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for this review of Tales Of The Unexpected’s “The Man From The South” (S01E01).  I viewed this via my very own subscription to Amazon Prime Video.

-- EZ
​

(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s Letterbxd.com page citation:
“Four-part anthology horror film, with segments featuring witchcraft, ghosts, Frankenstein and his monster, and ancient Christians battling Celtic vampires.”
 
As I’ve often said, I have a fondness for anthologies, both theatrical and small screen.
 
What I think such a format uniquely offers is the chance for storytellers to basically present what I call ‘short stories’ – as opposed to a motion picture’s comparison to a full novel – and, thus, these vignettes can provide a great bit of adrenaline to whatever yarn the producers are trying to spin.  Because they’re shorter, we get to the good stuff quicker, and this usually forces the on-screen talent to both find their respective marks and hit them earlier as opposed to later, strengthening the concoction for all involved.  While I’d agree that sometimes the brevity makes for a curious finale, I’ve more often found these experiences to be more interesting for investing in the tight economy of dispersing all of the who’s, what’s, where’s, when’s, and why’s at a feverish pace.  When they’re done right, they’re generally something special … and even when they’re done poorly the upside is that – if you’ve provided two or three or four stories – there’s often a ‘keeper’ in the bunch.
 
Now, that isn’t always the case.  When anthologies are crafted for theatrical or a longer-form release, I give props to those studios that go to greater lengths to ensure that there’s some common linkage between the separate chapters.  This modest bridging gives the whole piece the added flavor of being one complete tale even though the characters and settings may only align superficially with each other.  If the pieces, instead, go off in wildly different diversions, then the project truly risks disenfranchising the most ardent fans because there’s little pay-off to presenting them in one, simultaneously package.
 
That said, 1971’s Cake Of Blood is a bit of a mixed bag, one that holds together reasonably around the simple fact that spilled blood – vividly dripping into small, glowing pools here and there – gets showcased distinctly in each of its four chapters.
 
The anthology opens with “Tarot,” a period Horror set in the year 1,000 A.D.  In it, a nomadic knight wanders the countryside in search of … well, that doesn’t so much matter here as it’s never quite clear.  Let’s just say that like a warrior in search of a mission he roams from place-to-place but only finds empty, lifeless places.  Eventually, he stumbles across the ruins of a castle or a church (again, it’s unclear) wherein the body of what appears to be a dead woman has been laid out on a small altar.  Nearby, he meets a quirky young boy, and they while away the time in curious exchanges although the man cannot take his mind off the woman.  It isn’t long before she rises from the dead (perhaps a vampire and some demonic inspiration), only to pluck the man’s heart from his chest.  The last scene pulls in for a close-up on said heart and a trail of blood.
​

Up next, writer/director Emilio Martínez Lázaro delivers his interpretation of “Victor Frankenstein,” a chronicle that really only picks up the basic framework of the Mary Shelley novel – that of a doctor creating a monster – and then spins it into a wildly different tale.  In it, the dear doctor seemingly hates his family and has secluded himself with his monster – a rather good-looking though mute young male – only to be drawn back home over the impending death of his mother.  The dying woman makes Victor promise to wed the beautiful Elizabeth, and he does, only to leave shortly thereafter while promising to send a man to ‘serve’ in his stead.  Well, Victor sends in his creation, and – in true monster fashion – the beast basically loves and kills everyone.  The last scene shows the doctor committing suicide in despair, and Frankie – mimicking his creator – follows suit.
 
Chapter Three is titled “Terror Among The Christians.”  In it, a Roman gladiator and one of the disgraced nobles have fled persecution from the empire; and, together, they made their way into a forest with a reputation of being haunted by the dead of a recent slaughter.  As you can imagine, it isn’t long before things get a bit supernatural, and the nameless soldier is the first victim of what appears to be blood-sucking creatures.  As fate would have it, these vampires (of a sort) bite the nobleman, who succumbs to the virus and wages his own havoc before eventually reaches his own dark ending.
 
Lastly, Cake Of Blood closes with a bit called “The Dance, Or Emotional Survivals.”  It’s a bizarre, at times surreal piece about a vagrant who gets talked into breaking and entering a nearby house wherein the beautiful occupant Ana (played by Romy) lives by herself.  Once inside, the vagrant has his way with her while his co-conspirator makes his way about the home with his heavy footsteps punctuating the soundtrack for some time.  As sometimes happens in home invasions, the vagrant kills the woman, only to then learn that his partner and the woman are now ghosts and the whole campaign was little more than an attempt to have them reunited in the afterlife.
 
As each of these stories was written, directed, and produced by their own respective teams, there isn’t a great deal of overlap in terms of the quality of the work.  “Tarot” is, frankly, a confusing tale that goes nowhere while – in contrast – “Terror Among The Christians” benefits greatly from a great location and excellently spooky atmosphere (though it’s still a bit undercooked in the plot department).  While “Victor Frankenstein” had the most involved storyline as well as the biggest cast, there’s still not a great amount of justification around what it was all intended to say about its relatively small world and the people who occupy it.  “The Dance” also offers some wonderful visuals – the home’s interiors strongly suggest that none of this is real, hinting that it’s all a flight of fancy in the imagination of a homeless fellow – and it also reminds me a bit of the kind of storytelling that populated so much of Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone or his later attempts with Night Gallery.
 
My issues with them aren’t really all that important because – again, being perfectly honest – there really isn’t a home run in the bunch.  Each of them is a bit long if not a bit muddling, and none of them has what I’d point to and confirm was a great performance.  So while they’re all united in some bloodletting here and there, they’re also unified in being largely forgettable for plenty of reasons.  While a scene or two or a setting or even a costume might be impressive, Cake Of Blood is still mired in endless mediocrity … and that might just be a fate far worse than death itself.
​

Cake Of Blood (1971) was produced by Teide P.C.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Severin Films.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the provided sights-and-sounds were quite good: honestly, “Tarot” looked a bit better to me than did some of the others, but that could be because it was mostly shot outdoors with plenty of sunlight, making the colors pop whenever possible.  Aesthetically, “Terror Among The Christians” created the best atmosphere for Horror purists as the nighttime cinematography was quite striking in a few spots.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Wow.  The disc is actually loaded up nicely, and – for posterity’s sake – I’m doing the copy-and-paste from Blu-ray.com from Severin Film’s original press release:

• NEW 4K RESTORATION
• Audio Commentary With Rod Barnett Of NaschyCast And The Bloody Pit, And Dr. Adrian Smith, Co-Author Of Norman J. Warren: Gentleman of Terror
• My Generation – Interview With Actress Marisa Paredes
• I Just Wanted To Have Fun – Interview With Co-Director Jaime Chávarri
• To Whoever Wants To Watch – Interview With Actor José Lifante
• An Arthouse UFO – Appreciation By Ángel Sala, Head Of Programming At The Sitges Film Festival
• Audio: Spanish Mono / English Subtitles
• REGION-FREE

 
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
 
My chief complaint here is that there’s no singular achievement in Cake Of Blood (1971).  As I said, I like anthologies, but I do prefer that there be some unifying thread that ties individual chapters together.  While there are some visual similarities, they just aren’t enough to warrant an explanation as to why anyone believed plunking these separate chills from entirely different eras into the same central project.  That and a whole lot of ambiguity surrounding character motivations and spiritual connections made this one a bit of a slog as a whole, though I like tidbits in each one.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Severin Films provided me a complimentary Blu-ray of Cake Of Blood (1971) – as part of the Danza Macabra: Volume Three – The Spanish Gothic Collection – by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

(NEW YORK) September 17, 2024 — The New York Science Fiction Film Festival has announced the the award winners for its fourth annual event, which presented a lineup of films, discussions, virtual reality, and screenplay and graphic novel competitions. Screenings were held on Saturday, September 14, 2024 at Brooklyn’s Stuart City Cinema. For more information on this year’s lineup, visit https://www.newyorksci-fifest.com.

Congratulations to the award winners of The 2024 The New York Science Fiction Film Festival:
​

Best Science Fiction Feature
Red Earth (2022)
Director: Georg Adrian Koszulinski
66 minutes, USA
Red Earth imagines a world in the late Anthropocene, where large parts of Earth have become inhospitable to life. The story follows three generations of Martians, from the first colonists to the first expedition to return to an Earth decimated by interplanetary war.

Best Supernatural Feature
The Coldness (2024) — NY PREMIERE
Director: Gustavo Sampaio
75 minutes, USA
Nick Polito, a retired Jersey City homicide detective with a haunted past, comes to Los Angeles in search of answers to a recent gruesome death that is shockingly like a case that has been an obsession for him since 1999. Determined to find out what happened, Nick connects with his former partner and encounters a cast of characters that lead him steadily down a disturbing path into lethal occult darkness.

Best Science Fiction Short in a Dramatic Setting
LifeQuest (2023)
Director: Richard Lounello
25 minutes, USA
A young physicist lives out his life in search of his greatest scientific discovery and finds one extraordinary truth.

Best Conspiracy Science Fiction Short
The BiodiverCity (2024)
Director: Masataka Ishizaki
11 minutes, USA
In 2035, people live in one big area due to the biodiversity program in which humanity must stay away from nature for the environmental treatment. Nora thinks about Tree because she never saw it. So she decides to go outside to see it with Eric.

Best Short Documentary
You, Forever (2024)
Director: Brenda Kovrig
14 minutes, Canada
A short hybrid film that incorporates documentary and dark comedy fantasy fiction. Robert Ettinger, ‘the father of cryonics,’ speaks of his life’s work while his ‘patients’ experience an unnatural existence in suspended animation.

Best Animation Short
Sileo (2023)
Director: Demeter Lorant
8 minutes, Hungary
A robot after working for years in a factory and being repaired and replaced bit by bit realizes that he doesn't want to loose his identity and sets out to find his creator.


Best Horror Short
Dear Elf on the Shelf (2024)
Director: Tor Martin Norvik
2 minutes, Norway
A captivating tale of a young girl's emotional journey, intertwining reality with the magical lore of the Elf on the Shelf. As the holiday season envelops her home in joy and cheer, nine-year-old Emily encounters her family's Elf on the Shelf in an unexpected light, sparking a series of mysterious events.

Best Dark Fantasy Short
ADA (2023)
Director: Anaïs Vachez
16 minutes, France
Ada, an eight-year-old girl, witnesses the ongoing tensions between her parents. One evening, a particularly heated argument breaks out.

Best Trailer
Wisper (2018; Trailer)
Director: Russ Emanuel
1 minute, USA
In June 2016, a loving family was found shot to death at their suburban home in Northern New Jersey.

Best Music Video
The Panharmonion Chronicles: Times of London (2022)
Director: Henry Chebaane
3 minutes, UK
The video was written and shot as a short film teaser, introducing the creator of the story as a character inside his own fictional universe, which happens to exist also in our own reality. Here, the author-protagonist appears as a time-travel engineer who got lost into the dreamlike world of his own creation.

Best Virtual Reality
Asteroid Quest
Director: Bertrand Jack Daniel Loyer
France

Best Feature Sci-Fi Screenplay
Alpha Chase
Writer: Chuck Gordon
United States

Best Feature Supernatural Screenplay
Restoration
Writer: Don Stroud, Winter Mead
United States

Best Graphic Novel
Halloween Girl Book One: Promises to Keep
Writer: Richard T. Wilson
United States

Best World Building Sci-Fi Screenplay
Inversion
Writer: Suzy Stein, Fernando Perez
United States

Best Sci-Fi Short Screenplay
I/O (Input-Output)
Writer: Molly J Vernon
United States

Best Supernatural Short Screenplay
Sight Specific
Writer: Peter Hardy
United States
​

​About The New York Science Fiction Film Festival:

Founded in 2017, The New York Science Fiction Film Festival celebrates freedom of expression and the unique approaches of independent filmmakers as a merit to the science fiction, horror, supernatural, and fantasy genres. By honoring a groundbreaking past and looking ahead to an unprecedented future, the festival is committed to encompassing the brilliance of film.

Event Contact:
Jonathan Carsten, PR Manager
PressReleased1@gmail.com


Connect with Us:
Website: https://www.newyorksci-fifest.com
Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/nyscififilmfest
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/newyorkscififimfestival
​

(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“While traveling for business, Miro spends the night with a sex worker for the first time in his life after someone sends her to his hotel room. After they've had sex, he finds the girl dead in the bathroom. A successful, happily married man and a father of two, Miro covers up the unfortunate accident with the help of two hotel employees. However, they soon start asking him to return the favor. At first, it's small things but soon their demands get out of hand. The two accomplices in his "crime" suddenly play a major role in his life that will never be the same.”
 
Unlike a great many others who like to think deeply about film, I tend to ‘go with my gut’ when it comes to deciphering the central message intended by the storytelling.
 
Oh, this isn’t to suggest that I’m not prone to discuss the highs and lows of any particular feature because any regular or casual reader of SciFiHistory.Net will tell you there’s plenty of evidence to the contrary.  My point is that – much like Forrest Gump – I consider myself a ‘simple man,’ and I prefer to have any production’s ‘moral to the story’ being accessible minimally in the big finish.  When I have to putter about and try to discern the greater meaning from any yarn, then I’m usually a bit put off by the exercise, thinking it (to a small degree) beneath a truly great story.  While I’m okay with academics and film historians expounding upon what a project might mean for its time and place, I’d still rather come away from the last reel having learned what I was to make of it all.  If not, then what really was all of this fuss about?
 
Still, stories plumbing the depths of the human soul do tend to be a bit more complex, so I’m not sure that there are any easy answers to writer/director Lukas Nola’s Escort (2023).  Some of this is owed to the fact that, yes, matters of personal behavior when measured against the backdrop of a wider society – one that in itself might defy easy definition or categorization – are not easily forced into any critical formula: where I see a flawed man trying to regardless of circumstance make a good decision, you might see an opportunist who has embraced bad decisions while still trying to maintain some small amount of humanity.  Each of us is free to use our respective filters to define good and bad, and it’s this reality that leaves me a bit flummoxed when trying to determine if Miro (as played by Zivko Anocic) has a moral core or not.
​

In order to start this journey, I think it’s important to take Nola at his word.  The packaging for this release of Escort includes a director’s statement that he obviously felt necessary to convey his state of mind in delivering such a curious project to audiences; and I’m going to reproduce it below as I think it’s highly relevant: “Arrogance, primitivism, and violence – of the institutional, political, economic, religious, and cultural kind – they dominate the society and determine almost all of its rules.  This dominance is not always loud and obvious; often it’s covert and almost imperceptible.  But it’s there.  The powerlessness of the people around me and my own is deeply frustrating.  My anger at myself for having accepted this situation has driven me to write and film this story.”
 
Alas, I don’t know a great deal about this auteur.  I did a bit of searching online, and I’ve been able to learn that – though he’s recently passed at the far too young age of 58 – he was somewhat highly regarded by those in the European film community.  A website from his native Croatia suggests that Nola struggled with cancer for some time, and some of this leads me to suspect that he knew his days were limited when he went about making Escort, perhaps even knowing it would be his final film.  As such (and along with the above statement), I believe he wanted to look at the project as making a statement about the world he saw while he was in it.  While that’s about as admirable as one can surmise, the storyteller still made a curious choice that I think ultimately confuses what he was trying to say about film as an art form … and, yes, I strongly believe he was trying to say something by incorporating this weird experimental technique in the picture’s last reel.
 
We’ll get to that …
 
Seemingly on top of the world, Miro – an advertising executive with a knack for knowing what’s needed to sell anything – meets up with a few colleagues while travelling on business.  The trio spend the better night of the evening in a hotel bar, drinking and drugging and generally carousing with one another.  As men are wont to do, they challenge (verbally) one another about their respective personal and professional choices in life, leaving Miro to realize that – of this small pack – he’s largely the best behaved when it comes to straying outside the marriage.  Eventually, the bar closes, and Miro makes his way back to his hotel room, looking for a good night of sleep before heading back home in the morning.
 
Not long after, there comes a knock at his door.  To his surprise, a beautiful blonde escort – Maja (Lena Medar) – enters, and she explains that she’s been booked for the night – all paid in advance, no questions asked.  Over the course of a few minutes, Miro cautiously engages with her, lowering his guard as her advances grow more and more sensual.  Eventually, the two are inseparable, and they while away the hours rutting about in every conceivable fashion known to either of them.  It’s a night of uninhibited sexual indulgence that’s theatrical glorious in every detail.
 
But in the wee small hours of the morning, Miro rises to use the bathroom, and he’s aghast to find Maja dead on the floor of his hotel room shower.  Unable to get an outside line or any answer from the front desk, he rushes downstairs and confronts the clerk – Belc (Kresimir Mikic) – for assistance.  Eventually, the hotelier makes a phone call, calms his guest with a reassuring voice, and goes to examine the room for verification and details.  Over the course of the next hour or so, Miro comes to learn that Belc and his friend Berak (Igor Kovac) have no intention on involving the authorities; rather, they politely dispose of the body, remove all of the evidence of Maja’s presence, and request a small fee in exchange for their troubles.  Still somewhat distraught, Miro finally concedes; and he heads for home.
​

From this point onward, Escort evolves into a cautionary parable about wealth and responsibility.  Now that Belc and Berak have knowledge they can use to softly blackmail Miro for favors and money, they keep coming back again and again, softly implying that their petty demands are more about establishing a friendship than authentic extortion.  Though this successful executive initially goes along with their schemes, he inevitably realizes that they’re using him to benefit from a mistake they were all involved with, and he tries to put a stop to it.  Without revealing too many of the particulars (I don’t like spoiling some of the finer points), things do escalate to the point wherein lives are threatened, yet Miro does halt a bout of torture set into motion by his friends who originally hired the escort because they feel somewhat responsible for the whole affair to begin with.
 
Where Escort derails as a film – and derails significantly – is director Nola – for reasons I can’t even begin to fathom – decided to render a large portion of the conclusion essentially in TikTok mode: the camera lens is a tight, upright frame centered entirely in the middle of the screen, thus turning a major motion picture into an Internet reel.  Initially, I thought this was a bit of narrative trickery set up to give the impression that Miro was going about getting video evidence – or perhaps Belc and Berak were doing the same, it’s entirely unclear whose perspective this is supposed to be – in the event that the circumstances worsened.  But as this unconventional angle never relents from being the province of the director (meaning ‘the storyteller’), it’s ultimately Nola’s view … and it’s an utterly, utterly confusing and unnecessary choice for an otherwise stellar character study.
 
Were I pressed to define what its inclusion was all about, I can only harken back to Nola’s own words, that being his anger and/or shame at feeling complicit in the aforementioned “arrogance, primitivism, and violence” that pervades Croatian society and, more likely, the world at large.  He intersperses scenes of nature throughout all of Escort – shots of birds, mice, and other general wildlife are shot in monochromatic fashion – and there’s an almost black-and-white quality to the rest of the cinematography.  (For clarity’s sake, it isn’t black-and-white colors, but it has the same texture given that so many of the scenes are rendered with a limited palate.)  Because he willfully and deliberately chose to shoot part of his finale in the style, I can only assume that he was either indicting an entire society that chooses to live-and-die by social media, or he was demonstrating that his perspective – that we’re all dominated by forces we accept as the status quo – was far more pervasive than just solely his.
 
Again, it’s a confusing choice … and I really don’t know what to make of it more than that.
​

Tonally, Escort feels like it was intended to be a neo-noir – a sub-genre of storytelling that I have a fondness for, and I cover in this space because I like it so much – but at other moments the mild shenanigans of Miro, Belc, and Berak resonate more as a dark comedy.  When it’s hard to determine whether or not anyone is in serious jeopardy, that’s typically how I see things.  Once Belc is shown dancing in the arms of Miro’s wife Darija (Hrvojka Begovic) with the husband powerless to do anything about it, the film finally feels downright sinister if not dreamlike in the same way director David Lynch spins dark fairy tales so vividly … but when everyone leaves and no harm is done I’m still amiss over what Nola truly wanted me to think.
 
Escort (2023) was produced by Kinorama, Buka Production, and Skopje Film Studio.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) was coordinated by the fine folks at Indie Pix.  As for the technical specifications?  Wow.  While I’m no trained video expert, I was captivated by a good portion of the provided sights-and-sounds in this: as I said above, it has this noirish quality that only disappears in the controversial portion of the ending, and I think Nola’s work is definitely owed for more study.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Alas, this was a bare bones DVD I received, and I definitely would’ve liked to know a bit more.
 
Recommended.
 
I’m conflicted with Escort (2023).  There was so very much in here that I absolutely loved, but the conclusion truly twists an otherwise great film into something that smacks of experimentation that was entirely excessive and problematic.  Honestly, it was the kind of trickery one might expect from a film student and not an accomplished storyteller, evoking more confusion than anything intelligent so far as I care.  While I won’t spoil the last scene, either, I’d still argue that the writer/director kinda/sorta copped out on what could’ve been a signature piece deserving of broad praise.  As it is?  It’s just … there.  And disappointing.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Indie Pix provided me with a complimentary DVD of Escort (2023) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

Despite what some of you younger readers might think, I’m not old enough to have experienced the Golden Age of television’s Space Patrol (1950-1955) in its first run on the airwaves.
 
In fact – and this may shock some of you – it’s a program I honestly hadn’t much heard about until I began this deep dive into genre history that I call my editorship of SciFiHistory.Net.  Oh, it may’ve come up in passing reading here and there, but – for whatever reasons – it was a franchise that just never hooked in the deep, deep crevasses of my fertile brain.  It registered more strongly after I’d done a fair bit of research and learned about how impactful it was with audiences of that bygone era; but – for me – it wasn’t something I knew much less understood.  What is that saying about the generations?  “History begins only with each of our births.”
 
Still, several years back I made a commitment to growing my awareness of Space Patrol’s vast library.  In the process, I promised myself that – as time permitted – I’d even go back and partake of an episode or two or three (or more) of the programs so that I could commit a bit of bandwidth to something that meant so much to so many in fandom.  While this might not resonate with everyone who frequents these corners, I hope that those of you who have that affinity as I do for shows of old might be inspired to do the same if and when you, too have an opening on your social schedule.
 
Today’s adventure?
 
Why … it’s Space Patrol’s pilot episode: “Treachery On Mars!”
 
(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 episode’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Commander Buzz Corry and new recruit Cadet Happy of the Space Patrol face villainous ‘Treachery on Mars!’”
 
There’s always a bit of danger when looking into the past – especially the distant past – in trying to better acquaint oneself with the vastness of the viewing library for all of Science Fiction and Fantasy.
 
The bitterest pill to swallow is that – ahem – good Special Effects back in those early days were exceedingly hard to come by.  Lacking the technological wizardry that wouldn’t even be the germ of an idea back then, storytellers were arguably painted into a small corner with what they could and couldn’t accomplish for screens big and small.  Makeup, prosthetics, and costuming could only take viewers so far into such narrative world-building.  Whilst a great many craftspeople did the best they could, I dare say that today’s audiences would turn up their noses at what audiences of the 1930’s, 1940’s, and 1950’s had to accept as ‘authentic.’
 
That isn’t an insult, certainly not to this viewer.  I’ve long written about my fascination with one of the big screen’s first and best galactic heroes: Flash Gordon soared up in the cinema lights across three wonderful serials – Flash Gordon (1936), Flash Gordon’s Trip To Mars (1938), and Flash Gordon Conquers The Universe (1940) – and his tales of derring-do stood as the highwater mark for what was possible in originally going where no man had gone before.  Yes – for those of you who might be a bit cynical – I even watch and rewatch those things today – fastly approaching a century after their inception – and I still love them.  Of course, some of it is my embrace of nostalgia, but the rest of it is that I find them just simple and wholesome fun.
 
Still, 1950’s premiere of Space Patrol doesn’t look all that different from what Hollywood – with a better budget – had achieved only a dozen or so years earlier with those Gordon features.  Its effects sequences – a few shots of a spaceship hurtling across the heavens along with some impressive miniatures of the Martian surface – are admittedly primitive, which is to say that they work but are not worth dissecting further.  They convey what they’re intended to convey, especially given what was possible mostly in-camera at the time.
 
Alas, audiences weren’t treated to any origins story in this first outing, a caper that serves to introduce series’ regulars Commander Buzz Corry (played by Ed Kemmer) and his sidekick Cadet Happy (Lyn Osborn) on their mission to keep the galaxy under observation from ne’er-do-wells.  As you might suspect, a significant baddie – Major Gorla (Peter Mamakos) – makes an appearance in the adventure: as he’s apparently fallen from grace with the wider United Planets Space Patrol, he sets his vengeful sights on wiping Buzz and Happy out of existence with a missile leftover from Earth space-warring past, a move that dishes the ‘treachery’ promised in the episode’s title.
 
Essentially, that’s all she wrote (as they say).  Treachery basically serves to set the stage and present a few key faces while only hinting at greater depth.  Our dynamic duo manages to tactically outwit the missile using a defensive technology that’s as much ‘magic’ as it is science; and then they descend on the old Mars base where Gorla has holed up for no greater reasons stated.  There are some modest fisticuffs when the opposing forces come together, but – as expected – good triumphs evil in the last reel, allowing the two to make their way to the manmade planet Terra where I’m sure all new adventures await.  (Just tune in next week!)
 
If all of this sounds a tad simplistic, then you wouldn’t be wrong.  As I said, this is largely what storytelling was in those days; and I’m sure viewers who showed up were reasonably tickled by what they saw.  From what I’ve read online (Wikipedia.org and elsewhere), Spaofce Patrol was intended to be a kid’s show, and – lo and behold – the star procedural ended up actually wooing a solid number of adults into the mix.  (Methinks that, perhaps, these more learned souls were experiencing maybe a bit of nostalgia for the aforementioned Flash Gordon, as well.)  After it built up stream, Patrol patrolled those deadly streets of Outer Space for a fun-filled five seasons, becoming a bit of a cultural phenomenon and fueling a radio-show spin-off to boot.
 
Now, all of you are free to make of what you will a somewhat forgotten adventure from yesteryear.  But for me Space Patrol really serves as yet one more example of just how widespread the fandom for even modestly produced Science Fiction and Fantasy stretches.  Such adventures not unlike Flash Gordon before it and Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, and Quantum Leap after it establish audiences hungry for this type of good-vs-evil tales; and we’re a vastly better society for having built them as opposed to what we are when we forget them.
 
Never forget your roots, folks.  Never.
 
Space Patrol’s “Treachery On Mars!” (S01E01) was produced by Tower Productions and ABC Network Television.  A quick Google.com search shows that the program is available for free streaming on Tubi and elsewhere.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I’m willing to concede that, yes, the available stream is a bit subpar from what I’d like it to be, but that doesn’t diminish the entertainment value in any sizable way.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Well, I viewed this one entirely via streaming, so there were no special features under consideration.
 
Recommended.
 
A little something like Space Patrol isn’t going to be for everyone, but for this old dog who occasionally prefers going back into the barrel for a look into the past then a short spin like “Treachery On Mars!” is just fine.  There’s only modest world-building that takes place here, and the character bits are so negligible that you’ll likely do as I did and see them as stock archetypes, nothing more.  Still, I kinda/sorta dig this stuff: it’s a harmless confection that passes less than thirty minutes without rustling up a care in the world otherwise.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for this review of Space Patrol’s “Treachery On Mars” (S01E01) as I viewed it from a posting on YouTube.com.

-- EZ
​

Believe it or not: for at least one generation of children, Saturday mornings were what is known as ‘appointment television.’
 
(Trust me: I was there.  I know what I’m talking about.)
 
Saturday mornings were a veritable oasis of entertainment built to rescue the young and the young-at-heart from the doldrums of the weekly school schedule.  While, yes, each of us likely had our own after school programming choices that met with acceptable variety, we lived for these weekend excursions with our favorite animated or live action extravaganzas.  For it was in these adventures we were whisked away, transported to another time and another place where math tests, spelling bees, and state capital quizzes just didn’t matter.  For those few fun-filled hours, there was no world outside; instead, there was only the best escapism ever conceived and built by man.  It was about as glorious a way to pass our time as ever there was, and one of the more popular excursions was those flights of fancy hosted by the Super Friends.
 
From 1973 through 1985 (though I seem to remember small gaps here and there), this Hanna-Barbera-produced line-up of the greatest superheroes assembled to have ever defended our planet was a mainstay of that Saturday morning experience.  Though the full roster changed from time to time – as did the central title of the show – audiences were rapt with adventures of Batman, Robin, Superman, Aquaman, and Wonder Woman that maybe not so much defied the imagination as they attempted to display that problems had solutions, and these solutions often required a bit of cooperation between opposing forces in order to achieve productive balance.  In fact, I distinctly recall that most episodes closed with discussions – not action – that kinda/sorta served as an educational ‘moral of the story.’
 
Because the show endured a bit of reinvention several times over its life, I find it a bit difficult to offer some general observations on its overall quality.  Originally conceived for an hour-long format, the first and perhaps best incarnation of the show explored adventures a bit more complex and developed; as it evolved and inevitably shortened, some of that superhero magic was lost in the shuffle.  After all, any debacle that can be introduced, explored, and wrapped up in a scant, say, seven minutes of running time is going to be necessarily slim on details; and I suspect the changin’ of the times as well as the growing routine of reinvention killed its prospects as much as its diminishing returns.
 
Still, a case could be made that this is where TV’s original fascination with superheroes entered its Golden Age … a sentiment shared by those who were there when it all began …
​

(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 series’ IMDB.com page citation:
“The greatest of the DC Comics superheroes work together to uphold the good with the help of some young proteges.”
 
As I tried to express in my preamble above, Super Friends and its several iterations – Super Friends (1973-1974), The All-New Super Friends Hour (1977-1978), Super Friends / Challenge Of The Superfriends (1978-1979), The Worlds Greatest Super Friends (1979-1980), SuperFriends (1980-1982), The Best Of The Super Friends (1982-1983), the ‘lost episodes’ (1983-1984), SuperFriends: The Legendary Super Powers Show (1984-1985), and The Super Powers Team: Galactic Guardians (1985-1986) – is a bit difficult to parse critically because each incarnation had its own storytelling format.  These changes weren’t necessarily a reaction to any shortcomings with a previous version; rather, I believe it was more of a way for the writers and animators to continue delivering content based on viewership changes.
 
What I can tell you about this particular version of the Justice League is that – while not my favorite – it deserves a good deal of respect for paving the way for so much of what inevitably followed in its wake.  The ongoing success of Super Friends encouraged other studios to seriously invest in bringing more superhero-themed animated to the forefront – along with additional looks at the Justice League and its various players decades later – and all of viewing mankind has been the recipient of some of the most lavish productions on the Boob Tube, via direct-to-DVD releases, and theatrical output ever.  In a way, this is where it all began – the veritable superhero fountain of youth – and I couldn’t be happier to be reconsidering it after such a long hiatus.
 
However, it is important to take note: Super Friends and its spin-offs were under the care and nurturing of the Hanna-Barbera label, and anyone who knows anything about their television catalogue can probably assure you that this was, is, and will always be very, very, very kid-friendly … almost to a fault.  The stories were fashioned in such a way as to explore a theme – i.e. energy conservation comes up regularly, as does everyone’s shared responsibility in being a good steward to Planet Earth – and, yes, that stuff can get a bit old if not downright passé at times.  Such framework lends itself to predictability, so I encourage those who might be venturing into these waters to know full well that the early 1970’s had its own hang-ups: though most of the messaging is useful – especially for children – it can be understandably dated here and there.
​

The other modest distraction is that it would seem that once a talent was signed to a Hanna-Barbera show then you can rest assured you’d be hearing their voice in – ahem – just about anything and everything.  Those of us who grew up on a steady diet of their Scooby-Doo cartoons should rather easily recognize a few crossover voices (not characters), and I can distinctly remember thinking as a young’un about how Robin sure sounded an awful lot like Shaggy.  (FYI: this is owed to the fact that Casey Kasem played them both.)  I realize that’s a minor quibble, but – as a kid – it can really rock your world, if you think too long and hard about it.
 
Because there was this cultural shift in children’s programming of the era to ensure that shows were educating as much as they were entertaining, some of these adventures are understandably lackadaisical.  Whereas cartoons that would follow in the 1980’s and 1990’s were able to ramp up the spectacle to a degree (with notable exceptions), the emphasis back then was more on using superheroes as a construct to produce better human beings, so installments would end with a good deal of reflection on what those budding caped crusaders on the team had learned.  Yes, it was formulaic.  Yes, it was a bit saccharin.  But it was all animated with good intentions.
 
Even as a young’un, I can recall having my own axe to grind with the show and its several versions.  Having grown up as a reader of various DC Comics’ titles, I knew a bit more than the casual viewers about some the various villains’ histories.  The transition from page to small screen was rarely handled with any finesse; and, sadly, a great deal of what made these multiple evildoers gets lost in the process.  Instead, their screen stories were more about misunderstandings or misperceptions between their perceived reality and ours; consequently, they weren’t so much ‘supervillains’ as they were ‘super-confused.’  Any aggressor you can come together with in the finale and chat about your troubles with isn’t a true archnemesis, so with Super Friends the focus was always a bit too much on ‘Friend’ than it was ‘Super.’
 
Furthermore, the scattered adventures occasionally had to work really hard to involve that great warrior of the sea, Aquaman.  (When you limit stories to just the deep blue, then the same could be said of the land-locked, so don’t think I’m discriminating here, folks.)  Sadly, there wasn’t always direct use of a warrior’s ability to telepathically marshal all the fish of the ocean, so these yarns would twist and turn to incorporate the son of Atlantis in ways that arguably pushed the boundaries of what was necessary.  Sometimes, they accomplished his participation better than others, but the later shows handled it more efficiently by giving him time off to deal with whatever issues were underwater (if you’ll pardon the pun).
 
Still, Super Friends worked best when it stayed focused on the Big Five within the ranks of the Justice League.  While it was great to see that they were always branching out and bringing in other players – many of which have still never been afforded a great deal of screen time in spin-offs – there’s nothing like Batman, Robin, Superman, Aquaman, and Wonder Women to truly make a visual meal.  On that front, the show achieved heights other programs just couldn’t match.
​

Alas, I’m not entirely convinced that today’s more cynical audiences will flock to this release.  While it looks good and finally gives fans who’ve wanted a single purpose for their respective entertainment libraries, Super Friends will likely remain a favorite for those of us who were there in the beginning to experience those early forays into animated history.  Even the shorter episodes fall heavily into predictability – Hanna-Barbera wasn’t exactly well regarded for re-inventing the storytelling wheel – as the exploits grew far more about the message than it ever was the mayhem.  That would change inevitably when other competitors entered the arena, but that’s a different argument for a different day.  For now, purists and completists should celebrate this impressive release for what they’ve always wanted: the dawn of a new era in superhero mythmaking.
 
Super Friends: The Complete Series (1973-1985) was produced by Hanna-Barbera Productions, Warner Bros. Television, Eric Porter Studios, Taft Broadcasting, and Warner Communications.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert (as well as the fact that I’m looking at these episodes for the first time in decades), I find the provided sights-and-sounds to be exceptional from start-to-finish: I don’t see all that much of the negative effects time and aging can have on traditional film, so I believe most viewers will be impressed with how the source masters have held up.  Indeed, the Warner Archive press release confirms that these were all remastered for this Blu-ray release; and I think they look grand.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Alas, there are none … a big miss, but it is what it is.  I believe this is the first time in the United States when a fan can have all 93 episodes together in a single set, and that might be enough to convince buyers to pick this one up.
 
Recommended.
 
In all honesty, Super Friends: The Complete Series (1973-1985) isn’t probably as earthshaking to the older and wiser (mostly older, though) version of myself penning this review today.  As a kid, I can remember running to the television set for the earlier episodes (not so much as it wore on into the 1980’s).  Additionally, I can remember those times when friends – boys and girls alike – would recount what we watched that past Saturday morning on the bus, at lunch, out on the recess fields because it was a seminal experience for so many of us.  I don’t think we realized how pivotal the show could be in those days.  While it may’ve lost a bit of its luster, there’s still no replacing its greatness.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Super Friends: The Complete Series by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​