- Published on
I haven’t always enjoyed both watching and reviewing Horror projects as I do these days.
In fact, I’m quite certain that I’ve mentioned in this space that Horror – as a genre – just doesn’t much scare me. Far too many storytellers have invested far too much of their visions with effects trickery and/or buckets of blood when, inevitably, I’m scared more by what they only hint at and don’t directly show than are most. Oh, sure, I can appreciate the visceral quality of some evil deeds brought to life theatrically the way so many good flicks do; but my point is that more can be accomplished with a good story, great atmosphere, and solid players than most are willing to explore … so I tend to still shy away from stuff that looks a bit too greasy or underlit because those gimmicks just don’t tickle my fancy … nor do they turn my stomach.
Now, a working foundation will always capture my interest, and I think that’s initially the best thing I can say about Deathdream (1974). Originally released under the title of Dead Of Night, the flick was an early cinematic yarn that used the backdrop of the Vietnam War (albeit loosely) to explore what’s basically a ghost story: a soldier dying – Andy – in a frenzied skirmish on the front lines hears the voice of his mother calling out to him, and – voila! – he’s somehow transported back home (or is he?) looking mostly like he did the day he left. But Andy’s come back with something else – an insatiable appetite for blood – and it’s that little something extra that does give a good deal of the film the backbone needed to built, at least, a cult following. It looks like it did; and this is why Blue Underground sought to resurrect their cut with a fiftieth anniversary release for home video.
Did they need to?
Well, that’s always an argument weighed by critics, and if Rotten Tomatoes and IMDB.com are any indication then it would seem that there’s a clamoring for more of this, though I’ve not come across anyone even remotely familiar with the title. (Again, I’ll chalk that up to the fact that I haven’t always dabbled in Horrific circles!) Having now watched it completely, I’m still a bit aghast at its high marks, considering it good but not all that great. I don’t always agree, and yet I’m perfectly comfortable sharing with you (below) what I think might make this Deathdream worth your attention.
(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:
“A young soldier killed in the Vietnam War inexplicably shows up at his family home on the night of his death.”
In fact, I’m quite certain that I’ve mentioned in this space that Horror – as a genre – just doesn’t much scare me. Far too many storytellers have invested far too much of their visions with effects trickery and/or buckets of blood when, inevitably, I’m scared more by what they only hint at and don’t directly show than are most. Oh, sure, I can appreciate the visceral quality of some evil deeds brought to life theatrically the way so many good flicks do; but my point is that more can be accomplished with a good story, great atmosphere, and solid players than most are willing to explore … so I tend to still shy away from stuff that looks a bit too greasy or underlit because those gimmicks just don’t tickle my fancy … nor do they turn my stomach.
Now, a working foundation will always capture my interest, and I think that’s initially the best thing I can say about Deathdream (1974). Originally released under the title of Dead Of Night, the flick was an early cinematic yarn that used the backdrop of the Vietnam War (albeit loosely) to explore what’s basically a ghost story: a soldier dying – Andy – in a frenzied skirmish on the front lines hears the voice of his mother calling out to him, and – voila! – he’s somehow transported back home (or is he?) looking mostly like he did the day he left. But Andy’s come back with something else – an insatiable appetite for blood – and it’s that little something extra that does give a good deal of the film the backbone needed to built, at least, a cult following. It looks like it did; and this is why Blue Underground sought to resurrect their cut with a fiftieth anniversary release for home video.
Did they need to?
Well, that’s always an argument weighed by critics, and if Rotten Tomatoes and IMDB.com are any indication then it would seem that there’s a clamoring for more of this, though I’ve not come across anyone even remotely familiar with the title. (Again, I’ll chalk that up to the fact that I haven’t always dabbled in Horrific circles!) Having now watched it completely, I’m still a bit aghast at its high marks, considering it good but not all that great. I don’t always agree, and yet I’m perfectly comfortable sharing with you (below) what I think might make this Deathdream worth your attention.
(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:
“A young soldier killed in the Vietnam War inexplicably shows up at his family home on the night of his death.”
Alas, I’m still not entirely certain that I believe in ghosts. Though I don’t discount the possibility, I – like many of you – tend to go with either my gut or what I can see. Given that I’ve not seen any, this lack of experience leads my gut to question what the afterlife could all be about and just why anyone who has passed on would necessarily want to come back to the messiness that is life itself. I guess I just don’t understand the appeal.
However, I do appreciate the breadth of stories that presuppose how our thoughts, fears, wishes, and desires might stir up the potential for spectral interactions; and I think that’s part and parcel of what makes Deathdream as interesting a diversion as it is. Life and death affects us all; and the film postulates just how one mother’s strong emotional connection to her son has conjured up a little something unearthly, whether she intended it or not.
Andy Brooks (played by Richard Backus) is serving his country on the front lines of the Vietnam War. One night, he and his platoon find themselves caught in a firefight; and they’re struck down in the resulting crossfire. It just so happens that back home at his family digs, his father Charles (John Marley), his mother Christine (Lynn Carlin), and his sister Cathy (Anya Ormsby) are sitting around the supper table, dreaming about the day the young man will finally be home. To their dismay, a military officer appears at their door with a telegram, informing them that Andy was killed in action. Torn apart with grief, Christine goes to bed chanting a prayer for her son’s return, beckoning him to come back from the beyond.
In the middle of the night, a noise startles Charles awake. He heads downstairs with his wife and daughter close behind … only to find that Andy has returned … and he appears to be in perfect health!
So it should go without saying that a discerning viewer must accept the premise fairly early on in Deathdream that prayer works; otherwise this house of cards couldn’t keep itself standing. Given the state of the federal government, it isn’t hard to imagine that perhaps a mistake was somehow made – that Andy wasn’t there and shot in combat – and I also suspect this may’ve resulted in the film’s popularity back in the day. After all, Uncle Sam got us into a bad war to begin with; is it really that hard to contemplate that they might’ve made a huge mistake in cataloguing the dead? The fact that no one suggests contacting the Army asking for an explanation – a bit of a miss, if you ask me – so don’t look for the rest of this dark tale to unfold with any degree of narrative realism.
Still, there’s a bit more than takes place regarding Andy’s kinda/sorta bizarre behaviors, and none of it gets questioned. Why is he so desperately quiet? Why is he so socially withdrawn? Why does he wish to have nothing to do with any of his loved ones, and why does he insist on just wiling away the time in the rocking chair of his bedroom? Why is he so pale? Why does he wish to ignore his former circumstances? Why doesn’t he want to talk about the ride home? And why did he just choke the family’s beloved dog to death?
(Without a doubt, the film’s centerpiece is the dog scene. It’s handled with a particular degree of gruesomeness – not bloody, just shockingly staged with an almost documentarian’s approach – but I can’t fathom why no one tried to save the poor pooch!)
However, I do appreciate the breadth of stories that presuppose how our thoughts, fears, wishes, and desires might stir up the potential for spectral interactions; and I think that’s part and parcel of what makes Deathdream as interesting a diversion as it is. Life and death affects us all; and the film postulates just how one mother’s strong emotional connection to her son has conjured up a little something unearthly, whether she intended it or not.
Andy Brooks (played by Richard Backus) is serving his country on the front lines of the Vietnam War. One night, he and his platoon find themselves caught in a firefight; and they’re struck down in the resulting crossfire. It just so happens that back home at his family digs, his father Charles (John Marley), his mother Christine (Lynn Carlin), and his sister Cathy (Anya Ormsby) are sitting around the supper table, dreaming about the day the young man will finally be home. To their dismay, a military officer appears at their door with a telegram, informing them that Andy was killed in action. Torn apart with grief, Christine goes to bed chanting a prayer for her son’s return, beckoning him to come back from the beyond.
In the middle of the night, a noise startles Charles awake. He heads downstairs with his wife and daughter close behind … only to find that Andy has returned … and he appears to be in perfect health!
So it should go without saying that a discerning viewer must accept the premise fairly early on in Deathdream that prayer works; otherwise this house of cards couldn’t keep itself standing. Given the state of the federal government, it isn’t hard to imagine that perhaps a mistake was somehow made – that Andy wasn’t there and shot in combat – and I also suspect this may’ve resulted in the film’s popularity back in the day. After all, Uncle Sam got us into a bad war to begin with; is it really that hard to contemplate that they might’ve made a huge mistake in cataloguing the dead? The fact that no one suggests contacting the Army asking for an explanation – a bit of a miss, if you ask me – so don’t look for the rest of this dark tale to unfold with any degree of narrative realism.
Still, there’s a bit more than takes place regarding Andy’s kinda/sorta bizarre behaviors, and none of it gets questioned. Why is he so desperately quiet? Why is he so socially withdrawn? Why does he wish to have nothing to do with any of his loved ones, and why does he insist on just wiling away the time in the rocking chair of his bedroom? Why is he so pale? Why does he wish to ignore his former circumstances? Why doesn’t he want to talk about the ride home? And why did he just choke the family’s beloved dog to death?
(Without a doubt, the film’s centerpiece is the dog scene. It’s handled with a particular degree of gruesomeness – not bloody, just shockingly staged with an almost documentarian’s approach – but I can’t fathom why no one tried to save the poor pooch!)
The film is directed by Bob Clark, a storyteller who has one of the more interesting catalogues of many from his era. I know him best from his efforts to bring the Holiday/Classic A Christmas Story (1983) to the screen; and – like many of you – it’s a picture I’m sure I’ve seen annually ever since. But he also helmed both Porky’s (1981) and its somewhat dark sequel Porky’s II: The Next Day (1983) around the same time that A Christmas Story was also on his plate. 1987’s From The Hip is also another particular effective film – a courtroom comedy that seems to have been mostly forgotten, which I find sad as it houses some great performances from Judd Nelson, Elizabeth Perkins, and John Hurt – that’s about as different thematically from those as they are from one another. I never would’ve imagined that Deathdream would be one of the man’s earliest projects, but … well … there it is.
Similarly, Alan Ormsby – its screenwriter – also possesses a resume with a diverse library of stories. His name’s attached to the Cult/Horror Cat People (1982) around the same time that he was crafting Porky’s II into shootable format; and 1980’s underrated My Bodyguard was a sleeper hit that explored bullying at a time when it wasn’t part of the Hollywood ideological agenda. In 1987, he helped the Mouse House launch a lesser SciFi franchise with his script for the first Not Quite Human starring Jay Underwood and Alan Thicke. The 1990’s saw the Ormsby exploring the dark side of education as he spearheaded The Substitute franchise for the big screen wherein a grizzled soldier took the unwelcome task of shaping the young high school minds of tomorrow.
My point in discussing the breadth of these projects is to underscore that, together, Clark and Ormsby know their way around more than several blocks. Each has explored some dark and light highs and lows of the human condition; but there isn’t a great deal in either of their backgrounds that point to something as occasionally feral as is Deathdream. (Yes, I’m aware of Clark’s Black Christmas.) Together, these two manage to muster up some wonderfully dark atmosphere, and it honestly happens with what seems to be very little effort. I guess it’s mostly my surprise here that these two paired up to give audiences a look at elements decidedly supernatural, especially given the kinda/sorta formulaic finale this film delivers. I won’t spoil it, but let’s just say graveyards have been overused in filmdom since their inception.
The downside to all of this is neither man really felt it necessary to tell us exactly what Andy is and/or was. What they do with him is all that matters … and … what can I say? I like to know a bit more about things that go bump in the night. He’s part zombie. He’s part vampire. He’s part corpse. But we never get the full scoop, and that’s a miss.
Erm … pardon me, readers, if I breach a sensitive topic, but I’ve read a fair bit of commentary online about how Deathdream is one of the earliest Horror flicks to kinda/sorta breach the topic of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) right within the main narrative.
Now – again, I mean no disrespect to anyone – I don’t want to mince words here, folks, but I’ve got to be intellectually honest. Yes, on one level, I suspect that those who’ve made such an observation were trying to do so out of respect for the tale as it’s told. However, my issue with it is that this isn’t the real Andy – as best as I or anyone should be able to surmise – he’s a conjured-up tempestuous spirit – a kinda/sorta golem with loose vampiric appetites – and perhaps such arguments place far too too much weight on his manufactured psyche (and psychosis) as we’ve absolutely no indication that he served his country in any demonstrable capacity. In fact, I see Andy as little more than the figment of his mother’s imagination – it was her prayer that called him into being in the first place – and, as such, there’s very little evidence that he has any of her fallen son’s authentic memories.
Critics, scholars, and (ahem!) film nerds do like to fashion such dissertations about how art reflects reality; and – on that front (and probably that front alone) – I certainly understand where such intelligentsia may’ve devised such a theory. But this is Horror and theatrical Fantasy, and I would no more expect the product of a grieving mother’s pain to know all that was knowable about her deceased child. He’s a spectral thing brought forward from the darkness at her behest; while the ties to, perhaps, family and friends – which she would’ve known – stand to good reason. Anything else? Well … methinks we’re kicking a corpse, if you know what I mean.
Similarly, Alan Ormsby – its screenwriter – also possesses a resume with a diverse library of stories. His name’s attached to the Cult/Horror Cat People (1982) around the same time that he was crafting Porky’s II into shootable format; and 1980’s underrated My Bodyguard was a sleeper hit that explored bullying at a time when it wasn’t part of the Hollywood ideological agenda. In 1987, he helped the Mouse House launch a lesser SciFi franchise with his script for the first Not Quite Human starring Jay Underwood and Alan Thicke. The 1990’s saw the Ormsby exploring the dark side of education as he spearheaded The Substitute franchise for the big screen wherein a grizzled soldier took the unwelcome task of shaping the young high school minds of tomorrow.
My point in discussing the breadth of these projects is to underscore that, together, Clark and Ormsby know their way around more than several blocks. Each has explored some dark and light highs and lows of the human condition; but there isn’t a great deal in either of their backgrounds that point to something as occasionally feral as is Deathdream. (Yes, I’m aware of Clark’s Black Christmas.) Together, these two manage to muster up some wonderfully dark atmosphere, and it honestly happens with what seems to be very little effort. I guess it’s mostly my surprise here that these two paired up to give audiences a look at elements decidedly supernatural, especially given the kinda/sorta formulaic finale this film delivers. I won’t spoil it, but let’s just say graveyards have been overused in filmdom since their inception.
The downside to all of this is neither man really felt it necessary to tell us exactly what Andy is and/or was. What they do with him is all that matters … and … what can I say? I like to know a bit more about things that go bump in the night. He’s part zombie. He’s part vampire. He’s part corpse. But we never get the full scoop, and that’s a miss.
Erm … pardon me, readers, if I breach a sensitive topic, but I’ve read a fair bit of commentary online about how Deathdream is one of the earliest Horror flicks to kinda/sorta breach the topic of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) right within the main narrative.
Now – again, I mean no disrespect to anyone – I don’t want to mince words here, folks, but I’ve got to be intellectually honest. Yes, on one level, I suspect that those who’ve made such an observation were trying to do so out of respect for the tale as it’s told. However, my issue with it is that this isn’t the real Andy – as best as I or anyone should be able to surmise – he’s a conjured-up tempestuous spirit – a kinda/sorta golem with loose vampiric appetites – and perhaps such arguments place far too too much weight on his manufactured psyche (and psychosis) as we’ve absolutely no indication that he served his country in any demonstrable capacity. In fact, I see Andy as little more than the figment of his mother’s imagination – it was her prayer that called him into being in the first place – and, as such, there’s very little evidence that he has any of her fallen son’s authentic memories.
Critics, scholars, and (ahem!) film nerds do like to fashion such dissertations about how art reflects reality; and – on that front (and probably that front alone) – I certainly understand where such intelligentsia may’ve devised such a theory. But this is Horror and theatrical Fantasy, and I would no more expect the product of a grieving mother’s pain to know all that was knowable about her deceased child. He’s a spectral thing brought forward from the darkness at her behest; while the ties to, perhaps, family and friends – which she would’ve known – stand to good reason. Anything else? Well … methinks we’re kicking a corpse, if you know what I mean.
Deathdream (aka Dead Of Night) (1974) was produced by Dead Walk Company, Impact Films, and Quadrant Films. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Blue Underground. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to this Ultra 4K HD presentation to be surprisingly good: there are a fair amount of nighttime sequences that could’ve been a bit more defined, and I suspect the quality is likely owed to sourcing issues. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Blue Underground doesn’t disappoint; and – in order to do it justice – I’m doing the ol’ copy-and-paste from their press release recently printed on Blu-ray.com:
DISC ONE - 4KBLU-RAY
Recommended.
Once again, your faithful editor finds himself a bit at odds with the majority of the marketplace. Whereas quite a few smilers absolutely love Deathdream (1974), I give you my word that I only like it … I like it for what it is, I like it for what it tried to do, and I like it for what it ultimately achieves. It’s one of those imperfect little gems that still means something to so many that fifty years later it’s still being celebrated with a 50th anniversary release. While even I will concede that means something, I’ll also argue that I’ve seen a smattering of these ideas put to better use elsewhere. Performances are good enough, and a few shocking scenes make it a palatable ride for true fans of Horror.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Blue Underground provided me with a Ultra 4K HD + Blu-ray of Deathdream (aka Dead Of Night) (1974) 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
DISC ONE - 4KBLU-RAY
- EXCLUSIVE NEW 4K 16-BIT RESTORATION FROM THE ORIGINAL CAMERA NEGATIVE
- DOLBY VISION/HDR PRESENTATION OF THE FILM
- NEW Audio Commentary #3 with Film Historians Troy Howarth and Nathaniel Thompson
- Audio Commentary #1 with Co-Producer/Director Bob Clark
- Audio Commentary #2 with Writer/Make-Up Artist (Uncredited) Alan Ormsby
- Theatrical Trailer
- Audio: English (1.0 DTS-HD MA)
- Subtitles: English SDH, French, Spanish
- EXCLUSIVE NEW 4K 16-BIT RESTORATION FROM THE ORIGINAL CAMERA NEGATIVE
- NEW The First Andy – Interview with Actor Gary Swanson
- NEW Audio Commentary #3 with Film Historians Troy Howarth and Nathaniel Thompson
- Audio Commentary #1 with Co-Producer/Director Bob Clark
- Audio Commentary #2 with Writer/Make-Up Artist (Uncredited) Alan Ormsby
- A Recollection With Star Anya Liffey and Writer/Make-Up Artist Alan Ormsby
- Notes For A Homecoming – Interview with Composer Carl Zittrer
- Flying Down To Brooksville – Interview with Production Manager John 'Bud' Cardos
- Tom Savini: The Early Years
- Deathdreaming – Interview with Star Richard Backus
- Screen Test with Original Andy, Gary Swanson
- Alan Ormsby Student Film
- Alternate Opening Titles
- Theatrical Trailer
- Still Galleries
- Audio: English (1.0 DTS-HD MA)
- Subtitles: English SDH, French, Spanish
- REGION-FREE
- Limited Edition embossed slipcover and reversible sleeve with alternate artwork (First Pressing Only!)
Recommended.
Once again, your faithful editor finds himself a bit at odds with the majority of the marketplace. Whereas quite a few smilers absolutely love Deathdream (1974), I give you my word that I only like it … I like it for what it is, I like it for what it tried to do, and I like it for what it ultimately achieves. It’s one of those imperfect little gems that still means something to so many that fifty years later it’s still being celebrated with a 50th anniversary release. While even I will concede that means something, I’ll also argue that I’ve seen a smattering of these ideas put to better use elsewhere. Performances are good enough, and a few shocking scenes make it a palatable ride for true fans of Horror.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Blue Underground provided me with a Ultra 4K HD + Blu-ray of Deathdream (aka Dead Of Night) (1974) 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
- Published on
Let me tell you a little story about my online experience debating the cultural relevance of Guillermo del Toro films.
In short, I long ago grew used to being drubbed by fandom on this topic. You see, it isn’t that I don’t like and/or admire what this unique visionary puts up in the lights. Undoubtedly, he has a purposeful style that reaches out in ways other directors must envy. His various sights and sounds have achieved astounding success with critics and audiences alike; and he definitely deserves each and every accolade that’s ever been bestowed on him, his cast, his crew, his pictures, his company, and his nation. If nothing else, then I want to be perfectly clear on that point.
Where I diverge from the crowd is that I just haven’t found any of his pictures to date all that relatable on the character side of things. I’m of the opinion that he crafts relatively simple if not stereotypical people to inhabit his various universes; and I personally believe that this is an unintended consequence of putting so very much of his time, effort, blood, sweat, and tears into his visions. Again, this isn’t to suggest that any of them are inauthentic; rather, it’s that they wind up feeling somewhat static and predictable, so much so that I’ve found it relatively easy to plot out the developments as they unfold in movie-time.
Now … are they well made? Without question. Are they compelling constructed? Hey, c’mon now. Do they give substance to a world distinctively its own? How can you ask such a silly question!
Once more: the characters feel a bit too formulaic. As such, I’m just not drawn to them as much as I am their respective circumstances. Thus, del Toro’s pictures just don’t resonate with me in the same manner that other storytellers do. I find them worthy on every conceivable level except for the dimness of the people; and – to date – I stand by that.
This is why I’ve experienced endless dragging in a variety of forums. You young pups? I you think mudslinging is bad today, then step back in time about twenty to thirty years when fan-based message boards were all the rage; and just imagine how harsh, cruel, and insensitive some folks sought to be with perfect grammar and written structure! I still get the cold sweats when I think back to those dark times, and I’m quite certain I’ll suffer some wrath today with my humble assessment of Crimson Peak (2015).
In short, I long ago grew used to being drubbed by fandom on this topic. You see, it isn’t that I don’t like and/or admire what this unique visionary puts up in the lights. Undoubtedly, he has a purposeful style that reaches out in ways other directors must envy. His various sights and sounds have achieved astounding success with critics and audiences alike; and he definitely deserves each and every accolade that’s ever been bestowed on him, his cast, his crew, his pictures, his company, and his nation. If nothing else, then I want to be perfectly clear on that point.
Where I diverge from the crowd is that I just haven’t found any of his pictures to date all that relatable on the character side of things. I’m of the opinion that he crafts relatively simple if not stereotypical people to inhabit his various universes; and I personally believe that this is an unintended consequence of putting so very much of his time, effort, blood, sweat, and tears into his visions. Again, this isn’t to suggest that any of them are inauthentic; rather, it’s that they wind up feeling somewhat static and predictable, so much so that I’ve found it relatively easy to plot out the developments as they unfold in movie-time.
Now … are they well made? Without question. Are they compelling constructed? Hey, c’mon now. Do they give substance to a world distinctively its own? How can you ask such a silly question!
Once more: the characters feel a bit too formulaic. As such, I’m just not drawn to them as much as I am their respective circumstances. Thus, del Toro’s pictures just don’t resonate with me in the same manner that other storytellers do. I find them worthy on every conceivable level except for the dimness of the people; and – to date – I stand by that.
This is why I’ve experienced endless dragging in a variety of forums. You young pups? I you think mudslinging is bad today, then step back in time about twenty to thirty years when fan-based message boards were all the rage; and just imagine how harsh, cruel, and insensitive some folks sought to be with perfect grammar and written structure! I still get the cold sweats when I think back to those dark times, and I’m quite certain I’ll suffer some wrath today with my humble assessment of Crimson Peak (2015).
(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 (slightly edited for context):
“In the aftermath of a family tragedy, an aspiring author is torn between love for her childhood friend and the temptation of a mysterious outsider. Trying to escape the ghosts of her past, she is swept away to a house that breathes, bleeds, and remembers.”
I’ve had good experiences and I’ve had bad experiences with Gothic Romance.
Generally, my quibble with them is that all too often they devolve from their ornate and involved set-ups to little more than an obvious melodrama with a supernatural backdrop … and at the risk of sounding a bit haughty that’s mostly where I’m at with Crimson Peak. It’s a story of tragic romance all wrapped around some tragic characters in a tragic setting that, ultimately, will lead to a good measure of even greater tragedy (see what I mean?), but that isn’t to say I’ve any problems with the cast or setting. As descents into darkness go, this one is exceedingly well-crafted, all at the hands of its marquee cast and accomplished director.
Edith Cushing (played by one of the screen’s best modern era chameleons Mia Wasikowska) is a turn-of-the-century feminist whose hell bent at seeing her ghost story brought to life on the printed page despite the fact that – well – such thoughts should escape the mind of a sophisticated lady. No doubt the daddy’s financial wherewithal might be strong enough to help push doors open; but before she can realize her life’s dreams she’s curiously awakened by the seemingly wholesome charms of Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston), an entrepreneur seeking investment capital for his latest mining venture. It goes without saying that these two dreamers are cinematically destined to reside in one another’s arms; and the unforeseen death of Carter Cushing (a somewhat miscast Jim Beaver) means that Edith can leave America behind (but not daddy’s wealth) in the embrace of her new beau and his (cough cough) loving sister Lucille (Jessica Chastain).
Thus, audiences are catapulted to one of the screen’s most curious and scenic destinations: Allerdale Hall – secretly known as ‘Crimson Peak’ – is a combination of high society by way of the town dump. At once profoundly ornate, the expansive mansion has now fallen into severe disrepair. There’s a massive gaping hole in the roof in the foyer. Its foundation is said to be sinking slowly into the clay just beneath the structure, strongly suggesting a parallel to Edgar Allan Poe’s ‘The Fall Of The House Of Usher.’ Rats and roaches infest its darkest corners. While some women would be offended by such a place to spend a honeymoon, Edith is curiously okay with it all. Perhaps she’s drawn to the home’s legends of ghosts, spirits, and poltergeists? Well … she will be … in time.
And that’s the thing about Crimson Peak that not even a fantastic narrator like del Toro can overcome: it’s patently predictable from the start to finish. Gothic romances being what they are, there’s just so very little room – despite missing a substantial portion of the roof – to really be all that much new under the sun in this still charming spectral thriller. The cast do what they can – and, yes, it’s occasionally quite remarkable – but with such an obvious starting and ending point I’d never fault the audience for tuning out a bit of what happens in between because – as I said – we already know how this ends most of the time. There’s never any real doubt that these manipulative and incestuous siblings – Thomas and Lucille – will get what’s coming to them in the last reel, so I found the finale a bit lacking in suspense.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation (slightly edited for context):
“In the aftermath of a family tragedy, an aspiring author is torn between love for her childhood friend and the temptation of a mysterious outsider. Trying to escape the ghosts of her past, she is swept away to a house that breathes, bleeds, and remembers.”
I’ve had good experiences and I’ve had bad experiences with Gothic Romance.
Generally, my quibble with them is that all too often they devolve from their ornate and involved set-ups to little more than an obvious melodrama with a supernatural backdrop … and at the risk of sounding a bit haughty that’s mostly where I’m at with Crimson Peak. It’s a story of tragic romance all wrapped around some tragic characters in a tragic setting that, ultimately, will lead to a good measure of even greater tragedy (see what I mean?), but that isn’t to say I’ve any problems with the cast or setting. As descents into darkness go, this one is exceedingly well-crafted, all at the hands of its marquee cast and accomplished director.
Edith Cushing (played by one of the screen’s best modern era chameleons Mia Wasikowska) is a turn-of-the-century feminist whose hell bent at seeing her ghost story brought to life on the printed page despite the fact that – well – such thoughts should escape the mind of a sophisticated lady. No doubt the daddy’s financial wherewithal might be strong enough to help push doors open; but before she can realize her life’s dreams she’s curiously awakened by the seemingly wholesome charms of Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston), an entrepreneur seeking investment capital for his latest mining venture. It goes without saying that these two dreamers are cinematically destined to reside in one another’s arms; and the unforeseen death of Carter Cushing (a somewhat miscast Jim Beaver) means that Edith can leave America behind (but not daddy’s wealth) in the embrace of her new beau and his (cough cough) loving sister Lucille (Jessica Chastain).
Thus, audiences are catapulted to one of the screen’s most curious and scenic destinations: Allerdale Hall – secretly known as ‘Crimson Peak’ – is a combination of high society by way of the town dump. At once profoundly ornate, the expansive mansion has now fallen into severe disrepair. There’s a massive gaping hole in the roof in the foyer. Its foundation is said to be sinking slowly into the clay just beneath the structure, strongly suggesting a parallel to Edgar Allan Poe’s ‘The Fall Of The House Of Usher.’ Rats and roaches infest its darkest corners. While some women would be offended by such a place to spend a honeymoon, Edith is curiously okay with it all. Perhaps she’s drawn to the home’s legends of ghosts, spirits, and poltergeists? Well … she will be … in time.
And that’s the thing about Crimson Peak that not even a fantastic narrator like del Toro can overcome: it’s patently predictable from the start to finish. Gothic romances being what they are, there’s just so very little room – despite missing a substantial portion of the roof – to really be all that much new under the sun in this still charming spectral thriller. The cast do what they can – and, yes, it’s occasionally quite remarkable – but with such an obvious starting and ending point I’d never fault the audience for tuning out a bit of what happens in between because – as I said – we already know how this ends most of the time. There’s never any real doubt that these manipulative and incestuous siblings – Thomas and Lucille – will get what’s coming to them in the last reel, so I found the finale a bit lacking in suspense.
Still, del Toro and Matthew Robbins’ script is always serviceable. And I think it represents about as great of a modern example of how the Gothic Romance still has a bit of fuel in the proverbial tank no matter how good or bad the story is received. Everything in here works, and it works swimmingly (pun intended, and you’ll get it after you’ve seen it) if not too familiarly all too often.
There’s a great little subplot involving just how far the Sharpe family’s shenanigans may’ve stretched – one that, perhaps, could’ve been given even greater exploration were the project a limited series on any number of streaming platforms these days. In fact, I wish that were the case because there were enough breadcrumbs of a trail pointing to some serious skullduggery on both brother and sister’s part that I would’ve tuned in just to see how nefarious they were in their previous dealings. Granted, none of this dismisses the kinda/sorta dull thud of Edith’s purity ultimately infecting Thomas so that he can finally see the error of his ways before succumbing to his own bitter end.
Crimson Peak (2015) was produced by Double Dare You (DDY) and Legendary Entertainment. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert … wow. This film truly looks and sounds spectacular from start-to-finish. Again: set aside the fact that it’s a bit too mechanical in premise and execution, and just marvel at the endless imagery del Toro squeezes into damn near each and every frame. It’s nothing short of inspired.
Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? In order to serve justice to everything in here, I’m doing the admirable copy-and-paste from the released press materials provided on Blu-ray.com below.
There’s a great little subplot involving just how far the Sharpe family’s shenanigans may’ve stretched – one that, perhaps, could’ve been given even greater exploration were the project a limited series on any number of streaming platforms these days. In fact, I wish that were the case because there were enough breadcrumbs of a trail pointing to some serious skullduggery on both brother and sister’s part that I would’ve tuned in just to see how nefarious they were in their previous dealings. Granted, none of this dismisses the kinda/sorta dull thud of Edith’s purity ultimately infecting Thomas so that he can finally see the error of his ways before succumbing to his own bitter end.
Crimson Peak (2015) was produced by Double Dare You (DDY) and Legendary Entertainment. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert … wow. This film truly looks and sounds spectacular from start-to-finish. Again: set aside the fact that it’s a bit too mechanical in premise and execution, and just marvel at the endless imagery del Toro squeezes into damn near each and every frame. It’s nothing short of inspired.
Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? In order to serve justice to everything in here, I’m doing the admirable copy-and-paste from the released press materials provided on Blu-ray.com below.
- DOLBY VISION/HDR PRESENTATION OF THE FILM, approved by director Guillermo Del Toro
- Original 7.1 DTS:X and 2.0 DTS Headphone:X audio
- Optional English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing
- Optional Descriptive Video Service® (DVS®) for the visually impaired
- Audio commentary by co-writer and director Guillermo del Toro
- The House is Alive: Constructing Crimson Peak, a feature-length documentary with cast and crew interviews and extensive behind the scenes footage
- Spanish language interview with Guillermo del Toro
- The Gothic Corridor, The Scullery, The Red Clay Mines, The Limbo Fog Set; four featurettes exploring different aspects of Allerdale Hall
- A Primer on Gothic Romance, the director and stars talk about the key traits of Gothic romance
- The Light and Dark of Crimson Peak, the cast and crew talk about the film's use of color
- Hand Tailored Gothic, a featurette on the film's striking costumes
- A Living Thing, a look at the design, modelling and construction of the Allerdale Hall sets
- Beware of Crimson Peak, a walking tour around Allerdale Hall with Tom Hiddleston
- Crimson Phantoms, a featurette on the film's amazing ghosts
- Kim Newman on Crimson Peak and the Tradition of Gothic Romance, an interview with the author and critic
- Violence and Beauty in Guillermo del Toro's Gothic Fairy Tale Films, a video essay by the writer Kat Ellinger
- Deleted scenes
- Image gallery
- Original trailers and TV spots
- Double-sided, fold-out poster
- Four double-sided postcards
- Limited edition packaging designed by Crimson Peak concept artist Guy Davis
- Limited edition 80-page, hard-bound book featuring writing by David Jenkins and Simon Abrams, an archival interview with Guillermo del Toro, and original conceptual design illustrations by artists Guy Davis and Oscar Chichoni
Now, in my capacity as an approved online reviewer, I’m only provided physical copies of the final disc. I do not receive (unless indicated otherwise) the promotional inserts, newly produced artwork, and collector’s booklet. So while I cannot attest to the efficacy of those materials, I can still assure you that Arrow Films continues to impress with each release. This collection should keep you busy for a few extra hours.
Highly recommended.
My opinion of the expectedness of Gothic Romances being what it is, I insist that there’s not so much new in Crimson Peak (2015) as I would’ve liked. Above, I mentioned that a subplot or two could’ve meant more to me than the core story here; and I’m willing to just chalk that up to having sat through quite a few like-minded thrillers. But … yes … this is quintessential del Toro – meaning the imagery might have cineastes drooling (in a good way) over what’s accomplished visually in every single scene. It’s a feast for the eyes – probably the way the good director intended – and enjoy what you eat while the eatin’s good!
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of Crimson Peak (2015) 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
- Published on
Every now and then there comes a motion picture that deserves just to be seen not so much for any one factor alone but because so very much of it tonally just feels about as perfect as it can get.
Now, this doesn’t mean such an immersive experience is necessarily one audience might agree with and embrace ‘just because’ it’s so well-conceived, shot, and executed. There can always be something about any story – its setting, its characters, its premise – that can serve to trigger a viewer in ways that might be insurmountable. Something as subtle as line delivery or an actor or actress feeling a bit ‘out of sync’ with the material isn’t unheard of, or there can be a small sequence or
exchange that functionally kills the forward momentum in ways that can’t be recovered. Still, when all of the pieces fit together so compellingly, the most critical watcher can still easily forgive the lesser bits if for no other reason than he or she feels it’s the right thing to do. We’re only human, after all, and sometimes it’s best to leave judging to a higher authority, no?
Gravity (2013) may or may not be such a film.
At the time of my writing this review, the production is a little over ten years old; and – in all honesty – it’s not a project I hear talked about all that much today. Though heralded almost out of the gate as an ‘instant classic’ (a term that I and many other loathe), the flick went on a garner accolades and awards throughout the silly season; and there are many who consider it a much needed shot in the arm to both actress Sandra Bullock and actor George Clooney’s respective careers. Personally, I didn’t think that was the case – both continue to be reasonable box office draws for their fans (though the Clooney contingent, I suspect, has never really been that large); and – if anything – Gravity might’ve given the pair a chance to re-establish themselves as once more capable of tackling a smart and thrilling adult venture.
Whatever the truth might be, I’d agree that Gravity is one of those rare theatrical events where the stars aligned favorably around a talented cast, a gripping script, and a visionary behind the lens. It’s a monumental achievement in intelligence and escapism combined, so much so that – yes – seeing it might very well change one’s perspective about what can and cannot be accomplished for the silver screen in the modern era. When special effects continue to redefine our love and appreciation for fantastic visuals, Gravity achieves orbit in a way that perhaps hasn’t quite happened before … and may never again.
(NOTE: The following review will include 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:
“Dr. Ryan Stone, an engineer on her first time on a space mission, and Matt Kowalski, an astronaut on his final expedition, have to survive in space after they are hit by debris while spacewalking.”
Readers, I’ve admitted before that there are some actors and actresses I just don’t understand the fascination behind; and, yes, I’m reminding you today of my thoughts on George Clooney.
Now, this doesn’t mean such an immersive experience is necessarily one audience might agree with and embrace ‘just because’ it’s so well-conceived, shot, and executed. There can always be something about any story – its setting, its characters, its premise – that can serve to trigger a viewer in ways that might be insurmountable. Something as subtle as line delivery or an actor or actress feeling a bit ‘out of sync’ with the material isn’t unheard of, or there can be a small sequence or
exchange that functionally kills the forward momentum in ways that can’t be recovered. Still, when all of the pieces fit together so compellingly, the most critical watcher can still easily forgive the lesser bits if for no other reason than he or she feels it’s the right thing to do. We’re only human, after all, and sometimes it’s best to leave judging to a higher authority, no?
Gravity (2013) may or may not be such a film.
At the time of my writing this review, the production is a little over ten years old; and – in all honesty – it’s not a project I hear talked about all that much today. Though heralded almost out of the gate as an ‘instant classic’ (a term that I and many other loathe), the flick went on a garner accolades and awards throughout the silly season; and there are many who consider it a much needed shot in the arm to both actress Sandra Bullock and actor George Clooney’s respective careers. Personally, I didn’t think that was the case – both continue to be reasonable box office draws for their fans (though the Clooney contingent, I suspect, has never really been that large); and – if anything – Gravity might’ve given the pair a chance to re-establish themselves as once more capable of tackling a smart and thrilling adult venture.
Whatever the truth might be, I’d agree that Gravity is one of those rare theatrical events where the stars aligned favorably around a talented cast, a gripping script, and a visionary behind the lens. It’s a monumental achievement in intelligence and escapism combined, so much so that – yes – seeing it might very well change one’s perspective about what can and cannot be accomplished for the silver screen in the modern era. When special effects continue to redefine our love and appreciation for fantastic visuals, Gravity achieves orbit in a way that perhaps hasn’t quite happened before … and may never again.
(NOTE: The following review will include 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:
“Dr. Ryan Stone, an engineer on her first time on a space mission, and Matt Kowalski, an astronaut on his final expedition, have to survive in space after they are hit by debris while spacewalking.”
Readers, I’ve admitted before that there are some actors and actresses I just don’t understand the fascination behind; and, yes, I’m reminding you today of my thoughts on George Clooney.
Whether he would agree with my stating that he’s the poster boy for the Institutional Left, the truth of the matter is that he and I would likely agree on absolutely nothing. As he – like so many in Hollywood – has used his platform to advance political ideas I think best left to the voters, I have tended to tune him out over the years. Even though I’ve seen him in several films over the years that I thought he’s been good in, he’s never displayed the skill level I believe so many in the press and intelligentsia have afford him. Good looks can buy you a career in our modern era; and Clooney likely has a fleet of them. I just don’t think he’s that accomplished an actor. This is where I diverge from the popular opinion and represent just my perspective.
Now – as I just said – he’s good in Gravity … but only good in the way that I’d likely christen any actor as adequate for the part. As space veteran Matt Kowalski, Clooney sounds the part of a grizzled astronaut, but he never looks authentic to me. Perhaps this is owed to the fact that he really isn’t in all that much of the flick as well as the fact that when he returns late in it, the moment plays out almost ridiculously with its presentation. (Without spoiling it … I wasn’t fooled.) In fact, this scene unfurled with so much a visible misunderstanding of science that I started laughing, at which point I better grasped what was happening in the moment; and I can only suspect others bought it. If you can’t suspend disbelief, then you risk being pulled out of the experience, and perhaps I’m getting a bit too deep in the weeds. Let’s just say I accepted the actor in the roll, but I think there are others who could’ve performed it more than capably.
In comparison, I do believe that Bullock was perfectly cast but perhaps not for the reasons many others might think.
Since she truly roared onto the theatrical scene in such mainstream hits as Speed (1994) and While You Were Sleeping (1995), Sandra Bullock has been a contender for the hearts of men (and women of a certain persuasion) around the world. While I’d argue that her talents might not exactly reach the heights of, say, a Julia Roberts or a Michelle Pfeiffer, there’s still no denying her ability to mold herself into just about any soul she needs inhabit on the big screen. Still, I’ve always found her underplaying certain scenes that might’ve been celebrated with stronger emotions; and I wonder if such a tendency has kept her from wider critical acclaim. (Again, folks, I’m not complaining; I’m merely offering my honest observations.) As such, she winds up feeling a bit more relatable – she could be your next-door neighbor who made it big in Hollywood – not sacrificing a bit of herself in roles but instead finding ways to enhance a character’s likeability. In Gravity, she both looks and sounds like some practiced brainiac who’s given the chance to step into the Final Frontier, and I’d argue that such congeniality endears her to audiences. They want her to survive, and they’re willing to watch her risk life and limb in the process.
Now – as I just said – he’s good in Gravity … but only good in the way that I’d likely christen any actor as adequate for the part. As space veteran Matt Kowalski, Clooney sounds the part of a grizzled astronaut, but he never looks authentic to me. Perhaps this is owed to the fact that he really isn’t in all that much of the flick as well as the fact that when he returns late in it, the moment plays out almost ridiculously with its presentation. (Without spoiling it … I wasn’t fooled.) In fact, this scene unfurled with so much a visible misunderstanding of science that I started laughing, at which point I better grasped what was happening in the moment; and I can only suspect others bought it. If you can’t suspend disbelief, then you risk being pulled out of the experience, and perhaps I’m getting a bit too deep in the weeds. Let’s just say I accepted the actor in the roll, but I think there are others who could’ve performed it more than capably.
In comparison, I do believe that Bullock was perfectly cast but perhaps not for the reasons many others might think.
Since she truly roared onto the theatrical scene in such mainstream hits as Speed (1994) and While You Were Sleeping (1995), Sandra Bullock has been a contender for the hearts of men (and women of a certain persuasion) around the world. While I’d argue that her talents might not exactly reach the heights of, say, a Julia Roberts or a Michelle Pfeiffer, there’s still no denying her ability to mold herself into just about any soul she needs inhabit on the big screen. Still, I’ve always found her underplaying certain scenes that might’ve been celebrated with stronger emotions; and I wonder if such a tendency has kept her from wider critical acclaim. (Again, folks, I’m not complaining; I’m merely offering my honest observations.) As such, she winds up feeling a bit more relatable – she could be your next-door neighbor who made it big in Hollywood – not sacrificing a bit of herself in roles but instead finding ways to enhance a character’s likeability. In Gravity, she both looks and sounds like some practiced brainiac who’s given the chance to step into the Final Frontier, and I’d argue that such congeniality endears her to audiences. They want her to survive, and they’re willing to watch her risk life and limb in the process.
Over all of this pomp and circumstance, director Alfonso Cuarón once again proved himself a master of visual wizardry unlike so many others who helm projects big and small these days. All one need do is check out the man’s IMDB.com profile to see that he’s practically cornered the market on award citations with an inconceivable 259 wins (at present); and viewers can rest assured that if he’s brought his singular style to the picture then it is, minimally, worth a view. Under his watchful eye, Gravity soars in ways that undoubtedly should inspire others to follow in such footsteps – with elongated scenes casually stringing what appear to be inconsequential snippets together only to conceal their importance for later in the ride. Accomplishing everything that he did in an environment allowing for weightless simulation is incredible; the fact that he’s able – with special effects work that truly raises the bar – to do so much more is a testament to the project’s 7 Oscar wins along with over two hundred other awards achievements.
Now … because I’m a bit of a nerd (yes, it’s true) … I’ll admit that I’m not entirely certain Gravity got all of the science absolutely correct. (As I said above, such narrative inconsistencies might fracture the ‘good time’ viewers have with any yarn no matter how winningly assembled, so I’m offering this as a cautionary observation.) Bullock’s character – Dr. Ryan Stone – goes an incredibly long amount of time after her spacesuit runs out of oxygen; and the script’s solution (again, not gonna spoil it) truly pushed me to the limits. Also – entirely from what I’ve both read and heard on guided tours at Cape Kennedy Space Center – I’m not convinced that her escape capsule could’ve survived the trip back to Earth in the manner in which it traveled on screen. While I might have a few other little gripes, I’ll leave that be because this is film, after all, and it’s only a representation of real life.
The short skinny? Gravity excels where others crash and burn. Enjoy it for what it is … a remarkable achievement in film history. Let’s hope it continues to stand the test of time.
Gravity (2013) was produced by Warner Bros., Esperanto Filmoj, and Heyday 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 … wow. The film both looks and sounds astonishing from start-to-finish. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? This release is a two-disc pressing that truly gives viewers the opportunity to delve into every aspect of the production, including shorts about both the science and the filmed performances from every conceivable perspective.
Highest recommendation possible.
Readers, it’s perfectly natural for any of us to emerge from any theatrical journey with a quibble or two, but so very much of Gravity (2013) is about as close to perfection as I think it gets. Sure, I might have some issues with Clooney (just not a fan), or I might question whether the science truly hits the right mark or not; but the sheer entertainment value of the whole kit and kaboodle is the kind of payback one wants at successful conclusion to every blockbuster endeavor. Gravity is thrilling visually and emotionally, a rare convergence of everything that makes watching a truly great film reason enough to hope others can follow in its footsteps down the road. Well done.
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 Gravity 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
Now … because I’m a bit of a nerd (yes, it’s true) … I’ll admit that I’m not entirely certain Gravity got all of the science absolutely correct. (As I said above, such narrative inconsistencies might fracture the ‘good time’ viewers have with any yarn no matter how winningly assembled, so I’m offering this as a cautionary observation.) Bullock’s character – Dr. Ryan Stone – goes an incredibly long amount of time after her spacesuit runs out of oxygen; and the script’s solution (again, not gonna spoil it) truly pushed me to the limits. Also – entirely from what I’ve both read and heard on guided tours at Cape Kennedy Space Center – I’m not convinced that her escape capsule could’ve survived the trip back to Earth in the manner in which it traveled on screen. While I might have a few other little gripes, I’ll leave that be because this is film, after all, and it’s only a representation of real life.
The short skinny? Gravity excels where others crash and burn. Enjoy it for what it is … a remarkable achievement in film history. Let’s hope it continues to stand the test of time.
Gravity (2013) was produced by Warner Bros., Esperanto Filmoj, and Heyday 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 … wow. The film both looks and sounds astonishing from start-to-finish. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? This release is a two-disc pressing that truly gives viewers the opportunity to delve into every aspect of the production, including shorts about both the science and the filmed performances from every conceivable perspective.
Highest recommendation possible.
Readers, it’s perfectly natural for any of us to emerge from any theatrical journey with a quibble or two, but so very much of Gravity (2013) is about as close to perfection as I think it gets. Sure, I might have some issues with Clooney (just not a fan), or I might question whether the science truly hits the right mark or not; but the sheer entertainment value of the whole kit and kaboodle is the kind of payback one wants at successful conclusion to every blockbuster endeavor. Gravity is thrilling visually and emotionally, a rare convergence of everything that makes watching a truly great film reason enough to hope others can follow in its footsteps down the road. Well done.
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 Gravity 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
- Published on
(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:
“Many years after the reign of Caesar, a young ape goes on a journey that will lead him to question everything he’s been taught about the past and make choices that will define a future for apes and humans alike.”
It should go without saying, but I’ll say it anyway: the goal of any sequel should be to both build on the established ideas of the original while tactfully and respectfully pushing the property in, perhaps, an unseen direction. Jazz musicians do this when they’re free forming all the time, giving some inspiration some all-new life by providing audiences with something as familiar as it is new to the universe. Granted, this doesn’t happen all the time, but it should minimally be the goal of all involved, especially with tentpole style theatrical franchises like the Planet Of The Apes: if it ain’t fresh, then it’s more likely to mire itself in the comfortable middle ground, never quite aspiring to be something more but accepting its place as ‘more of the same.’
To a degree, that’s what I felt with Kingdom Of The Planet Of The Apes, a kinda/sorta loose reboot in the Apes universe that opens up only moments after Caesar’s demise at the end of War For The Planet Of The Apes (2017). Viewers are given some opening text alongside their attendance of Caesar’s funeral; and it’s pretty clear that such a visual passing of the torch attempts to both clarify that Kingdom seeks to be the next chapter in the ongoing saga as well as it is variations on the themes and ideas already established in this Apocalyptic world. Setting this installment several generations after that first trilogy feels right – the Apes have continued to bend what’s left of civilization to their will; humans have continued a descent into simpler mindsets; and the Earth has been left in dilapidated decay; etc. – and also waiting more than a few years to release this variation on a theme feels equally like a good idea.
What makes this chapter’s Earth markedly similar to the Apes first foray onto the silver screen (1968-1973) is that we learn that not all humans surviving in this particular Armageddon have devolved into animals: there are pockets of humanity left – albeit spaced out across and around our planet – and they’re all dedicated to somehow putting mankind back at the top of the food chain. This aptly demonstrated by the introduction of Mae (played by Freya Allan), a young woman separated from her group of survivors sent out into the wild to recover a missing piece of technology (I’m keeping it deliberately vague in order to avoid spoilers) needed to … erm … “cure” what ails the humans still alive. While others online claim this is a new development in the Apes flicks, I’m here – as the old dog – to assure you that it isn’t: we’ve seen such a plot twist – albeit handled much, much differently – in Beneath The Planet Of The Apes (1970) with the depiction of a subterranean cult that worshipped a nuclear bomb. For those who’ve seen it, the technology inevitably leads to, say, mutually assured destruction; but in Kingdom it serves to provide society with a bit of hope.
Noa (voiced by Owen Teague) can’t quite seem to catch a break amongst apedom. Feeling a bit like an outcast from him father and his clan (who’ve made significant societal progress by both taming and training eagles to do their bidding), he heads out into the dark of night to find an egg that would be required for his next rite of passage into adulthood. While he’s searching, he stumbles across some violent ape aggressors who are hellbent on finding an escaped ‘echo’ (the ape word of human), a mission that ultimately leads them to Noa’s peaceful village. Sadly, he arrives back too late to save his father from being cut down; and General Koro (Neil Sandilands) abducts the survivors and takes them into his custody. Left for dead, Noa awakens the next day, and he sets out on a journey to free his people from Proximus Caesar (Kevin Durand), a self-declared emperor seeking what remains of human technology to give apes the advantage in the next evolution of the world.
What Kingdom adds to the mythology enduring from the Caesar Trilogy of films is it shows how belief systems can be deliberately corrupted over the passage of time.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Many years after the reign of Caesar, a young ape goes on a journey that will lead him to question everything he’s been taught about the past and make choices that will define a future for apes and humans alike.”
It should go without saying, but I’ll say it anyway: the goal of any sequel should be to both build on the established ideas of the original while tactfully and respectfully pushing the property in, perhaps, an unseen direction. Jazz musicians do this when they’re free forming all the time, giving some inspiration some all-new life by providing audiences with something as familiar as it is new to the universe. Granted, this doesn’t happen all the time, but it should minimally be the goal of all involved, especially with tentpole style theatrical franchises like the Planet Of The Apes: if it ain’t fresh, then it’s more likely to mire itself in the comfortable middle ground, never quite aspiring to be something more but accepting its place as ‘more of the same.’
To a degree, that’s what I felt with Kingdom Of The Planet Of The Apes, a kinda/sorta loose reboot in the Apes universe that opens up only moments after Caesar’s demise at the end of War For The Planet Of The Apes (2017). Viewers are given some opening text alongside their attendance of Caesar’s funeral; and it’s pretty clear that such a visual passing of the torch attempts to both clarify that Kingdom seeks to be the next chapter in the ongoing saga as well as it is variations on the themes and ideas already established in this Apocalyptic world. Setting this installment several generations after that first trilogy feels right – the Apes have continued to bend what’s left of civilization to their will; humans have continued a descent into simpler mindsets; and the Earth has been left in dilapidated decay; etc. – and also waiting more than a few years to release this variation on a theme feels equally like a good idea.
What makes this chapter’s Earth markedly similar to the Apes first foray onto the silver screen (1968-1973) is that we learn that not all humans surviving in this particular Armageddon have devolved into animals: there are pockets of humanity left – albeit spaced out across and around our planet – and they’re all dedicated to somehow putting mankind back at the top of the food chain. This aptly demonstrated by the introduction of Mae (played by Freya Allan), a young woman separated from her group of survivors sent out into the wild to recover a missing piece of technology (I’m keeping it deliberately vague in order to avoid spoilers) needed to … erm … “cure” what ails the humans still alive. While others online claim this is a new development in the Apes flicks, I’m here – as the old dog – to assure you that it isn’t: we’ve seen such a plot twist – albeit handled much, much differently – in Beneath The Planet Of The Apes (1970) with the depiction of a subterranean cult that worshipped a nuclear bomb. For those who’ve seen it, the technology inevitably leads to, say, mutually assured destruction; but in Kingdom it serves to provide society with a bit of hope.
Noa (voiced by Owen Teague) can’t quite seem to catch a break amongst apedom. Feeling a bit like an outcast from him father and his clan (who’ve made significant societal progress by both taming and training eagles to do their bidding), he heads out into the dark of night to find an egg that would be required for his next rite of passage into adulthood. While he’s searching, he stumbles across some violent ape aggressors who are hellbent on finding an escaped ‘echo’ (the ape word of human), a mission that ultimately leads them to Noa’s peaceful village. Sadly, he arrives back too late to save his father from being cut down; and General Koro (Neil Sandilands) abducts the survivors and takes them into his custody. Left for dead, Noa awakens the next day, and he sets out on a journey to free his people from Proximus Caesar (Kevin Durand), a self-declared emperor seeking what remains of human technology to give apes the advantage in the next evolution of the world.
What Kingdom adds to the mythology enduring from the Caesar Trilogy of films is it shows how belief systems can be deliberately corrupted over the passage of time.
The script from Josh Friedman, Rick Jaffa, and Amanda Silver isn’t always centered precisely on this theme, but – generally speaking – it hits the right notes to keep the various story threads moving in directions similar enough for those watching even casually. Viewers watch as the lessons handed down by the beloved Caesar have been either diluted and/or widely misinterpreted for vastly more personal schemes. For example, ‘apes stronger together’ was evolved to represent an almost colonialism mentality from Proximus while Noa’s Eagle Clan uses it to project a kinda/sorta peacenik co-existence with nature (but even they are caging birds for their use) – so both the good guys and the bad are guilty in their own respective ways. The difference here is really only in the presentation: Proximus uses his slogan as almost a war cry, and Noa’s tribe gets flattering lighting and an uplifting orchestral score. But they’re both guilty, in my estimation, though others will likely disagree.
Still, this is obviously a Hollywood production, and the scribes – perhaps along with director Wes Ball – can’t help but insert a bit of ideology to push politics.
Veteran actor William H. Macy shows up as – you guessed it – a male conspirator who’s sold-out his fellow human survivors in order to work alongside the apes in exchange for special treatment. (Mind you: Tinseltown will stop at nothing to paint the old white male as the universe’s greatest adversary.) Sadly, it’s a role beneath the man’s obvious chops; but he does a solid job bringing the turncoat weasel to life in the limited screen time he’s afforded. Furthermore, I found myself questioning the choice of having Mae as the lead human action hero – no sleight whatsoever intended to the actress. My issue with sending a young and fertile female out into this Apocalypse on such a deadly mission is that I’m assuming that the humans left haven’t forgotten that the chief activity to rebuilding any civilization will be CHILD-REARING. Given that only women (despite what news pundits and politicians tell you these days on television) can conceive and birth new additions to the human race, I thought that sending her out was a bit reckless if not downright stupid. Call me old-fashioned if you must, but I can’t overlook fundamental truths to biology just because the script suggests otherwise.
None of this reduces the entertainment quality to Kingdom in any way whatsoever. It’s a great adventure, one that rather deftly balances the ideas of war and peace after the collapse of civilization; and it’s told in the same style as was the Caesar installments. The cinematography is particularly good, though I’ll admit that the occasional scene here and there obviously enhanced by CGI could’ve been crafted a bit better. Noa makes for a new thematic center in the world of the Apes – as does Mae – and I, for one, am hoping that we haven’t seen the last of their teaming up despite the strain put on their relationship with this one’s ending. They’re not exactly what you would call ‘friends’ or ‘enemies,’ and that’s an interesting place to see how they might need one another’s services again in the dark, dark future where men are no longer top dog.
Kingdom Of The Planet Of The Apes (2024) was produced by Twentieth Century Fox, Jason T. Reed Productions, Oddball Entertainment, and Disney Studios Australia. The film is currently playing theatrically at locations around the world. As for the technical specifications? Wow. The CGI looks incredible throughout this one’s various sights-and-sounds, but there were a few crowd scenes that were a bit undercooked (in my humble opinion). If you’re looking for special features? As I viewed this one theatrically, there were no special features to consider.
Highly recommended.
2024’s Kingdom Of The Planet Of The Apes effectively reminds the audience of where this whole shebang began thematically as well as charts the course for a further exploration of morality at the end of civilized existence. The new faces all feel as if they’re the natural next step in development for a world evolving from the chaos that brought about our demise; and it’ll even be interesting to see where all of apedom can go should this chapter emerge profitable enough for the powers that be to wish to see it continued. Sadly, it has a few ideological statements that could’ve been avoided … but Hollywood will be Hollywood until it falls as well. Take note, producers. Take note.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for my review of Kingdom Of The Planet Of The Apes (2024) as I took this one in entirely of my own accord over the weekend.
-- EZ
Still, this is obviously a Hollywood production, and the scribes – perhaps along with director Wes Ball – can’t help but insert a bit of ideology to push politics.
Veteran actor William H. Macy shows up as – you guessed it – a male conspirator who’s sold-out his fellow human survivors in order to work alongside the apes in exchange for special treatment. (Mind you: Tinseltown will stop at nothing to paint the old white male as the universe’s greatest adversary.) Sadly, it’s a role beneath the man’s obvious chops; but he does a solid job bringing the turncoat weasel to life in the limited screen time he’s afforded. Furthermore, I found myself questioning the choice of having Mae as the lead human action hero – no sleight whatsoever intended to the actress. My issue with sending a young and fertile female out into this Apocalypse on such a deadly mission is that I’m assuming that the humans left haven’t forgotten that the chief activity to rebuilding any civilization will be CHILD-REARING. Given that only women (despite what news pundits and politicians tell you these days on television) can conceive and birth new additions to the human race, I thought that sending her out was a bit reckless if not downright stupid. Call me old-fashioned if you must, but I can’t overlook fundamental truths to biology just because the script suggests otherwise.
None of this reduces the entertainment quality to Kingdom in any way whatsoever. It’s a great adventure, one that rather deftly balances the ideas of war and peace after the collapse of civilization; and it’s told in the same style as was the Caesar installments. The cinematography is particularly good, though I’ll admit that the occasional scene here and there obviously enhanced by CGI could’ve been crafted a bit better. Noa makes for a new thematic center in the world of the Apes – as does Mae – and I, for one, am hoping that we haven’t seen the last of their teaming up despite the strain put on their relationship with this one’s ending. They’re not exactly what you would call ‘friends’ or ‘enemies,’ and that’s an interesting place to see how they might need one another’s services again in the dark, dark future where men are no longer top dog.
Kingdom Of The Planet Of The Apes (2024) was produced by Twentieth Century Fox, Jason T. Reed Productions, Oddball Entertainment, and Disney Studios Australia. The film is currently playing theatrically at locations around the world. As for the technical specifications? Wow. The CGI looks incredible throughout this one’s various sights-and-sounds, but there were a few crowd scenes that were a bit undercooked (in my humble opinion). If you’re looking for special features? As I viewed this one theatrically, there were no special features to consider.
Highly recommended.
2024’s Kingdom Of The Planet Of The Apes effectively reminds the audience of where this whole shebang began thematically as well as charts the course for a further exploration of morality at the end of civilized existence. The new faces all feel as if they’re the natural next step in development for a world evolving from the chaos that brought about our demise; and it’ll even be interesting to see where all of apedom can go should this chapter emerge profitable enough for the powers that be to wish to see it continued. Sadly, it has a few ideological statements that could’ve been avoided … but Hollywood will be Hollywood until it falls as well. Take note, producers. Take note.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for my review of Kingdom Of The Planet Of The Apes (2024) as I took this one in entirely of my own accord over the weekend.
-- EZ
- Published on
Ach, folks. This one truly, truly, truly hurts.
Without belaboring the issue, there are times when there just aren't enough words to do justice to what one person's passing means. Life isn't exactly full of pioneers or visionaries -- I'd honestly say that maybe there's a good dozen each of us learns of in our respective lifetimes -- and it goes without saying that a true luminary's impact likely won't be fully appreciated until he or she is -- ahem -- dead and gone. I think, culturally, we've tried to make some adjustments along the way -- we've made some solid attempts to honor those who paved the way for so, so, so many -- and yet there's still no barometer by which we can effectively gauge how far and wide any single person's reach has grown across however many years he or she has been given.
Alas, none of us lasts forever. Though the souls we've touched along the way do live on well past our heartbeats, there comes that time when our contributions cease ... and such is the news I have to deliver with the passing of Hollywood heavyweight Roger Corman.
No, I'm not even going to try to put into sentences just how much of a legacy this man built. With an astonishing catalogue of titles across every conceivable genre and a resume that nearly reached five hundred different films, it's obvious to suggest that we'll likely not see another like him any time soon. Yes, yes, and yes: I realize that -- to a degree -- the projects he associated with over the years varied in qualitiy -- with 500 of them, how could they not? -- but those of us who've both followed cinema and written about it undoubtedly have something in there that we might worship, praise, or admire ... and -- in all honesty -- I've probably got a few.
A few years back, I recall debating his works with some folks in an online message board. (Ask your parents, kids.) While the general consensus was that the -- cough cough -- young ones in the discussioni didn't think highly of Corman's output, the older and wiser and perhaps more learned pointed out a fact or two not the least of which was that some of the entertainment industry's intellectual giants might not be where they were unless someone like Corman came first, swung open doors, and even gave a few of them a chance. Think what you will about a storyteller who, sure, trafficked in a bit of schlock, but Corman knew talent when he saw it ... and he never stopped to put it to good use in whatever way he could.
Though he's gone and/or passed over, his impact should be felt for a few decades more ... if there is any justice in the known universe.
Our warmest praises are extended to family, friends, and fans of Roger Corman.
May he forever rest in peace.
-- EZ
Without belaboring the issue, there are times when there just aren't enough words to do justice to what one person's passing means. Life isn't exactly full of pioneers or visionaries -- I'd honestly say that maybe there's a good dozen each of us learns of in our respective lifetimes -- and it goes without saying that a true luminary's impact likely won't be fully appreciated until he or she is -- ahem -- dead and gone. I think, culturally, we've tried to make some adjustments along the way -- we've made some solid attempts to honor those who paved the way for so, so, so many -- and yet there's still no barometer by which we can effectively gauge how far and wide any single person's reach has grown across however many years he or she has been given.
Alas, none of us lasts forever. Though the souls we've touched along the way do live on well past our heartbeats, there comes that time when our contributions cease ... and such is the news I have to deliver with the passing of Hollywood heavyweight Roger Corman.
No, I'm not even going to try to put into sentences just how much of a legacy this man built. With an astonishing catalogue of titles across every conceivable genre and a resume that nearly reached five hundred different films, it's obvious to suggest that we'll likely not see another like him any time soon. Yes, yes, and yes: I realize that -- to a degree -- the projects he associated with over the years varied in qualitiy -- with 500 of them, how could they not? -- but those of us who've both followed cinema and written about it undoubtedly have something in there that we might worship, praise, or admire ... and -- in all honesty -- I've probably got a few.
A few years back, I recall debating his works with some folks in an online message board. (Ask your parents, kids.) While the general consensus was that the -- cough cough -- young ones in the discussioni didn't think highly of Corman's output, the older and wiser and perhaps more learned pointed out a fact or two not the least of which was that some of the entertainment industry's intellectual giants might not be where they were unless someone like Corman came first, swung open doors, and even gave a few of them a chance. Think what you will about a storyteller who, sure, trafficked in a bit of schlock, but Corman knew talent when he saw it ... and he never stopped to put it to good use in whatever way he could.
Though he's gone and/or passed over, his impact should be felt for a few decades more ... if there is any justice in the known universe.
Our warmest praises are extended to family, friends, and fans of Roger Corman.
May he forever rest in peace.
-- EZ
- Published on
"I'm not a women's libber. Having a pretty girl running down the beach, then having her torn apart by a shark, is a lot better than having a flabby guy running down the beach and getting torn up. I don't think women are exploited as much as some women think they are."
-- Actress Susan Backlinie
-- Actress Susan Backlinie
While I've always said here on SciFiHistory.Net that not all of us have to agree, I do believe I'm right when I say that actress Susan Backlinie delivered one of filmdom's most iconic deaths.
In 1975's Jaws, the actress and stuntlady was given the task of kinda/sorta loosely introducing the world to the menace that was the Great White Shark. Her wonderful dip and tragic death truly set the stage for the thrill ride that was the entire run for one of the screen's biggest blockbusters. It was terrifying in all the right ways, and it certainly helped underscore the film's genius tagline that gets quoted from time-to-time decades later: "You'll be afraid to go back in the water."
In fact, it was such a memorable scene in Jaws that director Steven Spielberg kinda/sorta satirized it just a few years later. Backlinie was back in the water -- perhaps to all of our surprise -- -only this time should found herself hoisted up the periscope of a Japanese submarine lurking just off the coast of California. Yes, it was all for a laugh, but none of it would've worked unless Backlinie's earlier oceanic exploit hadn't meant so much to so many.
Alas, none of us lasts forever; and word reached the Information Superhighway over the weekend of the lady's passing.
Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Susan Backlinie.
May she forever rest in peace.
-- EZ
- Published on
As I’ve often remarked around these internet parts, I absolutely love a good monster movie.
Frankly, it doesn’t even have to be the hard-core scary type of flick. It can be simple. It can be benign. It can be good-hearted. It can even be soft-spoken. Nothing big. Nothing flashy. Just a good old-fashioned monster movie. Granted, I do reserve my highest praise for those films that unabashedly embrace the whole monster mythos from start-to-finish … but even I at my ripe old age can see something noble in any creative team having an idea, putting in the effort, and bringing it to fruition.
Such is the case with Wolfcop (2014). And – like its name – you can make no mistake: you’ll go in knowing exactly what you’re going to get!
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of person who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last 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:
“Officer Lou Garou isn’t the best cop in small-town Woodhaven – in fact, he’s probably the worst. He mostly just looks to avoid anything that could possibly interfere with his goal of getting wasted. One evening during the night shift, Lou investigates a mysterious disturbance at the edge of town and wakes up with a pentagram carved in his chest, heightened senses and body hair that’s growing at an alarming rate …”
There’s a bit more, but methinks you get the drill. As they say, “This ain’t Shakespeare,” and it never attempts to be.
To its praises, Wolfcop is probably exactly the kind of film one expects from picking up a project bearing such a title. It’s part goofy and part delirious fun. It never takes itself entirely all that seriously, yet thankfully it doesn’t skimp on sticking to the shallow world it creates. By the time its 79 minutes are over, no doubt most in the audience will have found something to relish in what’s possible to become a camp cult classic for folks who know exactly what camp cult classics should look like. Writer/director Lowell Dean pleasingly delivers the goods as promised from the first scene all the way until the last one (which, for the record, comes after the closing credits).
To Dean’s credit, he’s enlisted a smart group of talented Thespians who clearly were all-in on the material. Leo Fafard embodies Garou with the perfect small-town “don’t care” attitude, and this makes his transformation from man to beast – into the seminal canine crusader – all the more winning. Jonathan Cherry plays Willie Higgins – town misfit (but … with a secret!) – with excellent comic timing, the kind audiences expect from any would-be sidekick. Lovely Sarah Lind oozes equal doses of cunning and charm as the deliciously seductive town skank (also … with a secret!). But my money was on Amy Matysio: she plays the dour yet blissfully mousy Tina – the straight-laced police counterpart to Garou’s ‘Captain Oblivious’ – to perfection. If there ever were a sequel, Dean must give Matysio more to do!
Wolfcop (2014) is produced by Echolands Creative Group. DVD distribution is being handled by the reliable RLJ Entertainment and Image Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? This is one smartly assembled flick, and though there are a few sequences that could’ve used a cleaner sound mix it’s still a pretty nifty assortment of sights and sounds. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then you’re in for a real treat: there’s an audio commentary, some behind-the-scenes and origins stuff, as well as much, much more – a terrific surprise for audiences who celebrate subversive cinema!
Recommended.
Is Wolfcop (2014) the perfect movie? No way. Far from it. But the reality of B-Movie heaven is that it quite probably is the perfect story exploring the “half man, half wolf, all cop.” It delivers precisely what it promises, and I suspect most folks couldn’t ask for anything more. I would’ve liked a bit more laughs – watch the outtakes, and you’ll see they certain intended a bit more – but I’m not sure where they could’ve packed ‘em into this lean, mean, 80 minute killing machine (though the ripped-off face sequence I did have to watch twice it was so wonderful!).
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at RLJ Entertainment and Image Entertainment provided me with a DVD copy of Wolfcop 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
Frankly, it doesn’t even have to be the hard-core scary type of flick. It can be simple. It can be benign. It can be good-hearted. It can even be soft-spoken. Nothing big. Nothing flashy. Just a good old-fashioned monster movie. Granted, I do reserve my highest praise for those films that unabashedly embrace the whole monster mythos from start-to-finish … but even I at my ripe old age can see something noble in any creative team having an idea, putting in the effort, and bringing it to fruition.
Such is the case with Wolfcop (2014). And – like its name – you can make no mistake: you’ll go in knowing exactly what you’re going to get!
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of person who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last 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:
“Officer Lou Garou isn’t the best cop in small-town Woodhaven – in fact, he’s probably the worst. He mostly just looks to avoid anything that could possibly interfere with his goal of getting wasted. One evening during the night shift, Lou investigates a mysterious disturbance at the edge of town and wakes up with a pentagram carved in his chest, heightened senses and body hair that’s growing at an alarming rate …”
There’s a bit more, but methinks you get the drill. As they say, “This ain’t Shakespeare,” and it never attempts to be.
To its praises, Wolfcop is probably exactly the kind of film one expects from picking up a project bearing such a title. It’s part goofy and part delirious fun. It never takes itself entirely all that seriously, yet thankfully it doesn’t skimp on sticking to the shallow world it creates. By the time its 79 minutes are over, no doubt most in the audience will have found something to relish in what’s possible to become a camp cult classic for folks who know exactly what camp cult classics should look like. Writer/director Lowell Dean pleasingly delivers the goods as promised from the first scene all the way until the last one (which, for the record, comes after the closing credits).
To Dean’s credit, he’s enlisted a smart group of talented Thespians who clearly were all-in on the material. Leo Fafard embodies Garou with the perfect small-town “don’t care” attitude, and this makes his transformation from man to beast – into the seminal canine crusader – all the more winning. Jonathan Cherry plays Willie Higgins – town misfit (but … with a secret!) – with excellent comic timing, the kind audiences expect from any would-be sidekick. Lovely Sarah Lind oozes equal doses of cunning and charm as the deliciously seductive town skank (also … with a secret!). But my money was on Amy Matysio: she plays the dour yet blissfully mousy Tina – the straight-laced police counterpart to Garou’s ‘Captain Oblivious’ – to perfection. If there ever were a sequel, Dean must give Matysio more to do!
Wolfcop (2014) is produced by Echolands Creative Group. DVD distribution is being handled by the reliable RLJ Entertainment and Image Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? This is one smartly assembled flick, and though there are a few sequences that could’ve used a cleaner sound mix it’s still a pretty nifty assortment of sights and sounds. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then you’re in for a real treat: there’s an audio commentary, some behind-the-scenes and origins stuff, as well as much, much more – a terrific surprise for audiences who celebrate subversive cinema!
Recommended.
Is Wolfcop (2014) the perfect movie? No way. Far from it. But the reality of B-Movie heaven is that it quite probably is the perfect story exploring the “half man, half wolf, all cop.” It delivers precisely what it promises, and I suspect most folks couldn’t ask for anything more. I would’ve liked a bit more laughs – watch the outtakes, and you’ll see they certain intended a bit more – but I’m not sure where they could’ve packed ‘em into this lean, mean, 80 minute killing machine (though the ripped-off face sequence I did have to watch twice it was so wonderful!).
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at RLJ Entertainment and Image Entertainment provided me with a DVD copy of Wolfcop 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
- Published on
Unlike what some other reviewers have clearly tried to establish, Zombie Hunter (2013) is not the worst zombie movie ever made. In fact, there are times with its quite entertaining.
Mind you, it lacks a consistent polish that would’ve elevated it to at least the level of a modest crowd-pleaser. And, yes, it’s probably what one might call a few quarts low in the intelligence department: sadly, this is owed to the fact that it never quite figures out what and/or how its particular version of the undead are meant to behave and/or suffer whatever cruel fate our heroes might have in store for them. But as a one-time casual viewing? Meh. I enjoyed it well enough in the first half to give it a nod. It’s the lackluster, hands-off-the-continuity handling of its second half that’ll probably mire this flick in the trash heap of cinema history … but it didn’t have to be.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the kind 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 film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“When a street drug turns junkies into an army of zombies, a man named Hunter finds himself with nothing but a beat-up car and a trunk full of guns and booze, until he stumbles across a small band of survivors.”
Ok. It’s the Apocalypse (again?), and all of the present downfall is apparently the result of some street drug (those cursed cartels!) which turned its users, losers, and abusers into creatures not unlike the Walking Dead. Eaters. Shamblers. The Infected. Good-ol’ Zombies. Well, into this depraved and forsaken wasteland comes Hunter (played with some hard-boiled delight by Martin Copping), and – rest assured – he’s having a really bad day. Though it started out fine, it all went south once he took a bullet to the arm, crashed his car, and was spit on my some backwoods Looney Tunes dragging him back to his compound.
If what’s left of the crumbling society isn’t careful, Hunter’s likely to rise up and prove he’s the last thing worth fearing on planet Earth!
So, if you’ve seen the product packaging, I’d imagine the first thing you’re asking yourself is, “Hey, wait a minute, what happened to Danny Trejo? Isn’t he the star of this?” Well, the short answer is, “No.” The longer answer is that, obviously, Trejo’s name and image were probably used to get this thing off the ground by writer/director Kevin King. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that!) To his credit, Trejo plays a significant role in the first half of the film – the half that actually works and feels like it had a coherent script – but, alas, he disappears midway, and the picture is not best served by his departure. Instead, audiences are left with somewhat of a narrative mess that sounds like it was entirely improvised on the fly.
But … that first half?
Honestly, I found it surprisingly good. Zombie Hunter just the right balance of Grindhouse charm – the kind where viewers could easily tell no one was meant to take this all this seriously – and even an auteur’s compelling vision. Based on the set-up, King knew what he wanted – something a bit more tongue-in-cheek than the usual Zombie fare – so he kept the action light, the mood witty, and even some welcome bosoms (not quite fully bared, mind you!) on display from actresses Clare Niederpruem and Jade Reiger. It’s Armageddon, but it’s somehow tepidly reassuring women keeping themselves in shape well enough to pole dance.
Sadly, Trejo’s departure almost signaled the coming of a new AntiChrist, one who apparently burned the shooting script. From this point on, dialogue sounds entirely devised on the spot, situations descend from weird to just downright bizarre, and one man who gets de-pantsed shows up in the very next seen absolutely fully clothed.
I’ve got it: those zombies ate the continuity person!
What could’ve been a comic Horror contender quickly spools out of control in the final scenes, leaving Zombie Hunter with no trail of brains in sight.
Zombie Hunter (2013) is produced by Arrowstorm Entertainment and The Klimax. DVD distribution is being handled by Well Go USA. As for the technical specifications? Well, the video and audio looks fairly solid, though there’s some laughable CGI special effects on some kind of intelligent Zombie Overlord that are just plain awful at times. The practical, in-camera splatter effects are quite good, and it’s given a whole ‘Grindhousery’ feel that certainly complements much of the narrative. Lastly – much to my disappointment – there are no special features to speak of, and that’s a big miss on something that tries to be this clever.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended … and even then with extreme caution.
What’s exceedingly disappointing about Zombie Hunter is that, mostly during the first half, it’s actually not half bad. Really! It’s quite good. Granted, the best it has to offer is that those high points feel very much like a heavily watered down version of the vastly superior Zombieland (2009), but it’s saying something when you can take a concept as well-worn these days as zombies and still serve up something that’s smart, funny, and relevant, even if only occasionally. However, the latter half truly smacks of a production that either fell completely apart, lost funding, or (worst case scenario) burned its shooting script.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Well Go USA provided me with a copy of Zombie Hunter (2013) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.
-- EZ
Mind you, it lacks a consistent polish that would’ve elevated it to at least the level of a modest crowd-pleaser. And, yes, it’s probably what one might call a few quarts low in the intelligence department: sadly, this is owed to the fact that it never quite figures out what and/or how its particular version of the undead are meant to behave and/or suffer whatever cruel fate our heroes might have in store for them. But as a one-time casual viewing? Meh. I enjoyed it well enough in the first half to give it a nod. It’s the lackluster, hands-off-the-continuity handling of its second half that’ll probably mire this flick in the trash heap of cinema history … but it didn’t have to be.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the kind 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 film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“When a street drug turns junkies into an army of zombies, a man named Hunter finds himself with nothing but a beat-up car and a trunk full of guns and booze, until he stumbles across a small band of survivors.”
Ok. It’s the Apocalypse (again?), and all of the present downfall is apparently the result of some street drug (those cursed cartels!) which turned its users, losers, and abusers into creatures not unlike the Walking Dead. Eaters. Shamblers. The Infected. Good-ol’ Zombies. Well, into this depraved and forsaken wasteland comes Hunter (played with some hard-boiled delight by Martin Copping), and – rest assured – he’s having a really bad day. Though it started out fine, it all went south once he took a bullet to the arm, crashed his car, and was spit on my some backwoods Looney Tunes dragging him back to his compound.
If what’s left of the crumbling society isn’t careful, Hunter’s likely to rise up and prove he’s the last thing worth fearing on planet Earth!
So, if you’ve seen the product packaging, I’d imagine the first thing you’re asking yourself is, “Hey, wait a minute, what happened to Danny Trejo? Isn’t he the star of this?” Well, the short answer is, “No.” The longer answer is that, obviously, Trejo’s name and image were probably used to get this thing off the ground by writer/director Kevin King. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that!) To his credit, Trejo plays a significant role in the first half of the film – the half that actually works and feels like it had a coherent script – but, alas, he disappears midway, and the picture is not best served by his departure. Instead, audiences are left with somewhat of a narrative mess that sounds like it was entirely improvised on the fly.
But … that first half?
Honestly, I found it surprisingly good. Zombie Hunter just the right balance of Grindhouse charm – the kind where viewers could easily tell no one was meant to take this all this seriously – and even an auteur’s compelling vision. Based on the set-up, King knew what he wanted – something a bit more tongue-in-cheek than the usual Zombie fare – so he kept the action light, the mood witty, and even some welcome bosoms (not quite fully bared, mind you!) on display from actresses Clare Niederpruem and Jade Reiger. It’s Armageddon, but it’s somehow tepidly reassuring women keeping themselves in shape well enough to pole dance.
Sadly, Trejo’s departure almost signaled the coming of a new AntiChrist, one who apparently burned the shooting script. From this point on, dialogue sounds entirely devised on the spot, situations descend from weird to just downright bizarre, and one man who gets de-pantsed shows up in the very next seen absolutely fully clothed.
I’ve got it: those zombies ate the continuity person!
What could’ve been a comic Horror contender quickly spools out of control in the final scenes, leaving Zombie Hunter with no trail of brains in sight.
Zombie Hunter (2013) is produced by Arrowstorm Entertainment and The Klimax. DVD distribution is being handled by Well Go USA. As for the technical specifications? Well, the video and audio looks fairly solid, though there’s some laughable CGI special effects on some kind of intelligent Zombie Overlord that are just plain awful at times. The practical, in-camera splatter effects are quite good, and it’s given a whole ‘Grindhousery’ feel that certainly complements much of the narrative. Lastly – much to my disappointment – there are no special features to speak of, and that’s a big miss on something that tries to be this clever.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended … and even then with extreme caution.
What’s exceedingly disappointing about Zombie Hunter is that, mostly during the first half, it’s actually not half bad. Really! It’s quite good. Granted, the best it has to offer is that those high points feel very much like a heavily watered down version of the vastly superior Zombieland (2009), but it’s saying something when you can take a concept as well-worn these days as zombies and still serve up something that’s smart, funny, and relevant, even if only occasionally. However, the latter half truly smacks of a production that either fell completely apart, lost funding, or (worst case scenario) burned its shooting script.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Well Go USA provided me with a copy of Zombie Hunter (2013) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.
-- EZ
- Published on
Once again, I find myself reminding the Information Superhighway that, yes, I’m probably the last hold-out who’s willing to admit that I still totally dig found footage films.
Now, let me clarify for the uninitiated: found footage films – when done correctly – are the products of mad geniuses. Of that, there is no doubt. It takes a certain mindset that’s more than a bit askew in order to properly conceive and execute an entire story from a vastly limiting perspective; and yet there exist those wayward spirits here and there who have done so quite effectively with professionalism and grace. Granted, the truly good ones are few and far between, but that’s probably what makes them special experiences if not truly memorable flights of fancy. And I can appreciate those who even try and just miss the mark because effort deserves to be acknowledged – if not rewarded – when prize stories are so hard to find.
All that said, I’m going to caution readers right up front that found footage has been vastly misinterpreted by both the filmmakers and the film-watchers. In fact, a good portion of what gets openly called or critiqued as found footage these days is pretty far off base; and I think this is because the literal explosion of content emerging from the World Wide Web has offered some interesting narrative twists still needing a bit of tweaking in order to be truly effective. That’s why I’m willing to concede that a little something-something like Mind Body Spirit (2023) is a flawed but effective attempt to revolutionize found footage for the digital age. Yes, it is indeed good – very good in a handful of ways – but it is in no way, shape, or form an authentic ‘found footage’ tale.
That might be why it’s still worth your time.
(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:
“An aspiring yoga influencer embarks on a ritual practice left behind by her estranged grandmother.”
Now, let me clarify for the uninitiated: found footage films – when done correctly – are the products of mad geniuses. Of that, there is no doubt. It takes a certain mindset that’s more than a bit askew in order to properly conceive and execute an entire story from a vastly limiting perspective; and yet there exist those wayward spirits here and there who have done so quite effectively with professionalism and grace. Granted, the truly good ones are few and far between, but that’s probably what makes them special experiences if not truly memorable flights of fancy. And I can appreciate those who even try and just miss the mark because effort deserves to be acknowledged – if not rewarded – when prize stories are so hard to find.
All that said, I’m going to caution readers right up front that found footage has been vastly misinterpreted by both the filmmakers and the film-watchers. In fact, a good portion of what gets openly called or critiqued as found footage these days is pretty far off base; and I think this is because the literal explosion of content emerging from the World Wide Web has offered some interesting narrative twists still needing a bit of tweaking in order to be truly effective. That’s why I’m willing to concede that a little something-something like Mind Body Spirit (2023) is a flawed but effective attempt to revolutionize found footage for the digital age. Yes, it is indeed good – very good in a handful of ways – but it is in no way, shape, or form an authentic ‘found footage’ tale.
That might be why it’s still worth your time.
(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:
“An aspiring yoga influencer embarks on a ritual practice left behind by her estranged grandmother.”
As an online champion of all things genre related, I occasionally get called out as ‘an influencer’ by this modern generation. One of my side hobbies these days has been working with a local high school speech and debate; and because so much of my existence they see as shucking Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror films and television shows, they see me in that role even though I’d argue – if they asked – that I wear a vastly different hat. But – if nothing else – it’s nice to be noticed, am I right?
Being noticed is very close to what Mind Body Spirit revolves around.
Anya (played by the fetching Sarah J. Bartholomew) is a somewhat mousy homebody who has decided to take the jump from introvert to true extrovert, setting about the behind-the-scenes business of creating content she hopes to inevitably spring onto the online marketplace. Utilizing her New Age attitude and her commitment to self-help, she’s begun recording yoga sessions in the front room of an old California house her recently department grandmother Verasha (Kristi Noory) has left to her in her will. What Anya doesn’t know is that Verasha had a distinctly and dastardly motivation in mind (body and spirit!) when she did so, and such a secret campaign of destruction plays out for the audience with each of the young woman’s successive taping segments. We’re treated to Anya’s slow spiritual demise – along with Verasha’s return from the netherworld – as if this were the ultimate … VLOG FROM HELL!
(Yes, I kid, I kid.)
So …
As I stated above, I think there’s been a tendency by those in the film business to present tales as if they’re found footage when, in reality, they’re ridiculously far from it; and such is the case with Mind Body Spirit. Undoubtedly, this story as presented has been edited together from the footage found on Anya’s smartphone (recorder?); and it’s been given all of the bells and whistles that would accompany any online vlog up to and even including advertisements. What this means is that – from a narrative perspective alone – it can’t be ‘found footage’ because a rational mind would assume that Anya – as its creator – would’ve noticed all of these spectral happenings when and if she were editing them together for unveiling to her internet followers (assuming she had any). That isn’t a gripe, my friends: it’s just an observation of fact. Likely, Anya would’ve seen what Verasha – as a ghost or spirit or poltergeist – was up to, and all of this haunting and possession business could’ve been easily avoided.
Dispensing with that narrative issue does help increase one’s enjoyment of Mind Body Spirit: at its core, it’s an extremely effective ghost story – with a side helping of demonic intrusion – all brought to life by the winning direction of Alex Henes and Matthew Merenda as well as a fabulous central performance from Bartholomew. Together, they take us slowly and methodically through the various staged events, cleverly subverting our disbelief with some wonderful cinematography in reasonable cramped quarters, and they give their lead actress time to plant seeds with each and every smaller reveal, all leading up to the big ‘showdown’ (of sorts). Grandma had issues, obviously, and she’s not willing to go quietly into the night. Sadly, Anya becomes little more than the next victim on her list, and all of this plays out rather smartly in what I’ll call ‘vlogtime.’
Like the best scripts do, Mind Body Spirit does make some observations about our world and the times in which we live. Anya shares several video calls with her mother Lenka (Anna Knigge), and their mild estrangement becomes crystal clear in these troubled exchanges. And if the dialogue doesn’t make it perfectly clear, then all you need do is look at the tenuousness of the connectivity – images freeze up, mother is easily distracted by things occurring offscreen, etc. – leading this viewing to ask how much of our humanity has been sacrificed by our dependence on technology? Sure, it’s brought us closer in some ways, but how might it have broadened the divide as well? Additionally, Anya is visited by a former childhood friend Kenzi (Madi Bready) – a successful influencer whose narcissism and self-absorption is evident immediately – and it’s pretty clear that in Horror terms this hot, young professional just stepped into the worst place she will ever visit for the rest of her days. (Let’s make that “short days,” too.)
Being noticed is very close to what Mind Body Spirit revolves around.
Anya (played by the fetching Sarah J. Bartholomew) is a somewhat mousy homebody who has decided to take the jump from introvert to true extrovert, setting about the behind-the-scenes business of creating content she hopes to inevitably spring onto the online marketplace. Utilizing her New Age attitude and her commitment to self-help, she’s begun recording yoga sessions in the front room of an old California house her recently department grandmother Verasha (Kristi Noory) has left to her in her will. What Anya doesn’t know is that Verasha had a distinctly and dastardly motivation in mind (body and spirit!) when she did so, and such a secret campaign of destruction plays out for the audience with each of the young woman’s successive taping segments. We’re treated to Anya’s slow spiritual demise – along with Verasha’s return from the netherworld – as if this were the ultimate … VLOG FROM HELL!
(Yes, I kid, I kid.)
So …
As I stated above, I think there’s been a tendency by those in the film business to present tales as if they’re found footage when, in reality, they’re ridiculously far from it; and such is the case with Mind Body Spirit. Undoubtedly, this story as presented has been edited together from the footage found on Anya’s smartphone (recorder?); and it’s been given all of the bells and whistles that would accompany any online vlog up to and even including advertisements. What this means is that – from a narrative perspective alone – it can’t be ‘found footage’ because a rational mind would assume that Anya – as its creator – would’ve noticed all of these spectral happenings when and if she were editing them together for unveiling to her internet followers (assuming she had any). That isn’t a gripe, my friends: it’s just an observation of fact. Likely, Anya would’ve seen what Verasha – as a ghost or spirit or poltergeist – was up to, and all of this haunting and possession business could’ve been easily avoided.
Dispensing with that narrative issue does help increase one’s enjoyment of Mind Body Spirit: at its core, it’s an extremely effective ghost story – with a side helping of demonic intrusion – all brought to life by the winning direction of Alex Henes and Matthew Merenda as well as a fabulous central performance from Bartholomew. Together, they take us slowly and methodically through the various staged events, cleverly subverting our disbelief with some wonderful cinematography in reasonable cramped quarters, and they give their lead actress time to plant seeds with each and every smaller reveal, all leading up to the big ‘showdown’ (of sorts). Grandma had issues, obviously, and she’s not willing to go quietly into the night. Sadly, Anya becomes little more than the next victim on her list, and all of this plays out rather smartly in what I’ll call ‘vlogtime.’
Like the best scripts do, Mind Body Spirit does make some observations about our world and the times in which we live. Anya shares several video calls with her mother Lenka (Anna Knigge), and their mild estrangement becomes crystal clear in these troubled exchanges. And if the dialogue doesn’t make it perfectly clear, then all you need do is look at the tenuousness of the connectivity – images freeze up, mother is easily distracted by things occurring offscreen, etc. – leading this viewing to ask how much of our humanity has been sacrificed by our dependence on technology? Sure, it’s brought us closer in some ways, but how might it have broadened the divide as well? Additionally, Anya is visited by a former childhood friend Kenzi (Madi Bready) – a successful influencer whose narcissism and self-absorption is evident immediately – and it’s pretty clear that in Horror terms this hot, young professional just stepped into the worst place she will ever visit for the rest of her days. (Let’s make that “short days,” too.)
From a characterization standpoint, I do take issue with how easily Anya simply leapt feet first into what she perceives as being a holistic lifestyle choice her grandmother not only made but sought to leave as a legacy to her granddaughter. (FYI: just like Lenka and Verasha were estranged, so too were grandma and grandchild.) Knowing a few self-help gurus like I do, I can assure you that none of them – not a one – would take and put an entirely unknown substance from a creepy attic crawlspace and put it into their tea. These types are fully committed to knowing everything about what they put in their body – what it is, where it’s from, what’s the benefit, etc. – and this entirely unrealistic moment pulled me out of the film with a bit of a laugh. Sometimes, truth hurts, and it should.
Also, one has to accept that Anya’s command of time and space is more than a bit stilted. Apparently, she’s really, really, really bad at spatial problems because – as we learn – there’s an entire hidden room she never imagined in the same floor space she’s admittedly only been using a short time; but I would notice and question why there was an obvious easement to the floor plan. Not only that, but we soon learn that there’s an entire second floor, the hints of a possible third floor, and an additional concealed crawl space … and you see where I’m heading with this. Why, it’s almost like there was another entire house magically hidden within this old home; and Anya – no engineer – somehow missed it when touring the place? Yeah. That dog don’t hunt, folks.
Where the directors make a huge misstep (in my opinion) is that – for reasons I’m at a loss to explain – they felt it necessary to remind their audience that they’re watching an online YouTube-style video: the narrative gets broken up a few times with some strategically placed advertisements (Kenzi’s!) underscoring such a technological screening, along with a few of those God-awful scrolling circles to let you know streaming rates are varying. While I appreciate how these snippets were used to enhance the storyline, I just feel they were ultimately inconsequential to the fright fest that should’ve stayed front-and-center the entire wild ride.
Mind Body Spirit (2023) was produced by Dan Asma. According to a Google.com search, the film is presently available for rental or purchase digitally on the Vudu streaming platform. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the provided sights-and-sounds were pretty exceptional from start-to-finish: there’s a bit of special effects wizardy along the way, but it’s all wonderfully conceived and executed. As for the special features? Because I streamed this on the World Wide Web, there were no special features under consideration.
Recommended.
As I’ve tried to be clear, Mind Body Spirit (2023) really only uses the ‘found footage’ construct in order to try doing something a bit fresh and a bit different with it. While the effort doesn’t always work and sometimes gets in the way of what could be an otherwise convincing ghost story, I’ll always applaud those who strive to do something different if the end result is as winning as this one is. Flawed but effective, Mind Body Spirit proves once again that Spirit always trumps Mind and Body when it comes to Horror.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Villain Films provided me with complimentary streaming access to Mind Body Spirit (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
Also, one has to accept that Anya’s command of time and space is more than a bit stilted. Apparently, she’s really, really, really bad at spatial problems because – as we learn – there’s an entire hidden room she never imagined in the same floor space she’s admittedly only been using a short time; but I would notice and question why there was an obvious easement to the floor plan. Not only that, but we soon learn that there’s an entire second floor, the hints of a possible third floor, and an additional concealed crawl space … and you see where I’m heading with this. Why, it’s almost like there was another entire house magically hidden within this old home; and Anya – no engineer – somehow missed it when touring the place? Yeah. That dog don’t hunt, folks.
Where the directors make a huge misstep (in my opinion) is that – for reasons I’m at a loss to explain – they felt it necessary to remind their audience that they’re watching an online YouTube-style video: the narrative gets broken up a few times with some strategically placed advertisements (Kenzi’s!) underscoring such a technological screening, along with a few of those God-awful scrolling circles to let you know streaming rates are varying. While I appreciate how these snippets were used to enhance the storyline, I just feel they were ultimately inconsequential to the fright fest that should’ve stayed front-and-center the entire wild ride.
Mind Body Spirit (2023) was produced by Dan Asma. According to a Google.com search, the film is presently available for rental or purchase digitally on the Vudu streaming platform. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the provided sights-and-sounds were pretty exceptional from start-to-finish: there’s a bit of special effects wizardy along the way, but it’s all wonderfully conceived and executed. As for the special features? Because I streamed this on the World Wide Web, there were no special features under consideration.
Recommended.
As I’ve tried to be clear, Mind Body Spirit (2023) really only uses the ‘found footage’ construct in order to try doing something a bit fresh and a bit different with it. While the effort doesn’t always work and sometimes gets in the way of what could be an otherwise convincing ghost story, I’ll always applaud those who strive to do something different if the end result is as winning as this one is. Flawed but effective, Mind Body Spirit proves once again that Spirit always trumps Mind and Body when it comes to Horror.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Villain Films provided me with complimentary streaming access to Mind Body Spirit (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
- Published on
In case you missed it (and I’ve no doubt a good many fans did) on ‘May The 4th Be With You’ Day, Lucasfilm actually ponied up some brand-spanking-new Star Wars in celebration of their once powerful intellectual property: behind the infamous pay wall that is Disney+, Dave Filoni and merry yarn spinners dropped six episodes of a little something-something called Tales Of The Empire. Basically, these were two stand-alone mini features linked by the fact that they jointly explored the Dark Side of government (and the Force) after Chancellor Palpatine turned the Republic into the First Galactic Empire. Episodes One, Two, and Three shone a little light on the character of Morgan Elsbeth; and Episodes Four, Five, and Six explored what happened to fallen Jedi Barriss Offee after the issuance of Order 66.
For the purposes of clarity, I’m solely going to focus on those first three chapters for this review; and I’ll likely do something soon to tie up my thoughts on the reminder later this week. Readers, keep your eyes peeled!
(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 program’s IMDB.com page citations:
Episode 1: “Young Morgan Elsbeth seeks revenge after losing everything.”
Episode 2: “Morgan is approached by a potentially powerful ally.”
Episode 3: “Offered the chance to stand trial for her crimes, Morgan instead seeks her destiny.”
Sigh.
Readers, I again find myself wanting to be perfectly clear about my opinions of Star Wars.
Like that of so many, mine has evolved over the years, cratering to a large degree in just the short time that Lucasfilm – under Walt Disney’s care – has truly squandered any solid mythmaking potential. Though I, too, once championed the name of Dave Filoni – who of late seems to think of himself as more instrumental than was even Star Wars’ creator George Lucas – but then he started making choices which appeared more inclined to push his employer’s ideology over logical plot progression. No, I’ve no axe to grind with him or any of his willing co-conspirators; my point is that I watch programming to be entertained and not … well … programmed. Sadly, it would seem that the man in the cowboy hat isn’t much of a cowboy at all, and that’s a bit discouraging.
For the purposes of clarity, I’m solely going to focus on those first three chapters for this review; and I’ll likely do something soon to tie up my thoughts on the reminder later this week. Readers, keep your eyes peeled!
(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 program’s IMDB.com page citations:
Episode 1: “Young Morgan Elsbeth seeks revenge after losing everything.”
Episode 2: “Morgan is approached by a potentially powerful ally.”
Episode 3: “Offered the chance to stand trial for her crimes, Morgan instead seeks her destiny.”
Sigh.
Readers, I again find myself wanting to be perfectly clear about my opinions of Star Wars.
Like that of so many, mine has evolved over the years, cratering to a large degree in just the short time that Lucasfilm – under Walt Disney’s care – has truly squandered any solid mythmaking potential. Though I, too, once championed the name of Dave Filoni – who of late seems to think of himself as more instrumental than was even Star Wars’ creator George Lucas – but then he started making choices which appeared more inclined to push his employer’s ideology over logical plot progression. No, I’ve no axe to grind with him or any of his willing co-conspirators; my point is that I watch programming to be entertained and not … well … programmed. Sadly, it would seem that the man in the cowboy hat isn’t much of a cowboy at all, and that’s a bit discouraging.
In fairness, I had noticed across his run with Star Wars: The Clone Wars and Star Wars: The Bad Batch that he was putting vastly greater effort (it would seem) into crafting female characters than he was males. How did I reach this bold conclusion? Well, it’s really rather simple, so much so that I’m surprised no one else whom I follow online has pointed this out before (if they have, then I’ve missed it). His males? Well, they’re to the vast degree all descended from the same genetic stock: both The Clone Wars and The Bad Batch were essentially variations on the same male character – the famed Kaminoan clones descended from Jango Fett’s DNA – meaning that they were given minor physical tweaks here and there or perhaps even something as simple (and meaningless) as a quirky accent. Some face tattoos here. Loss of a limb there. Otherwise, each of them had the same exact foundation.
By contrast, the women brought to life under Filoni’s care were a wide variety of different species, characteristics, likes, dislikes, and traits. Vivid and colorful, they all spoke with respective purposes, and they were given all kinds of different origin stories, personal histories, and the like. Now, I love women as much as the next red-blooded male – I am what I am, as Popeye once famously said – but this rather obvious dumbing down of the masculine archetypes should’ve been a cause for alarm earlier amongst critics and general watchers because it reinforces a Progressive stereotype: men are, functionally, all the same, but women comes in all shapes, sizes, and (if you believe the political Left) genders!
As I said above: sigh.
Under Filoni’s tenure, the representation of male diversity has all but disappeared from that galaxy far, far away; and – in its place – Lucasfilm and Mouse House have been able to craftily indoctrinate their audience to embrace “the fairer sex” at every opportunity.
This brings me to Morgan Elsbeth.
From what I know, this human member of Filoni’s Nightsisters was first brought to life aboard The Mandalorian’s second season; and she was given even greater narrative spotlight in the first season of his Ahsoka series. Largely painted as an evildoer, Elsbeth was responsible for taking audiences to an all-new quadrant of space with hopes of rescuing her villainous sponsor – a rather portly Grand Admiral Thrawn (see what I mean about negative male representations?) – only then to find herself abandoned (again, negative male representation) and, ultimately, cut down by Ahsoka in a truncated showdown. Now – for some unexplainable reason – Filoni felt it necessary to give this character a backstory, one that – again – paints her as a victim, thus trying to whitewash her dastardly deeds beneath a bit of modern psychobabble.
(You guessed it: men turned her into what she is. At this point, these people are so unoriginal.)
Regardless, I find it important to note that there is some very good storytelling – and very inspired Star Wars – at work in Elsbeth entirely unnecessary arc. While very little of substance is learned, Filoni and scriptwriter Amanda Rose Muñoz take the required steps to establish the events of the lady’s existence that explains how she ultimately becomes a source for badassery (my word, not theirs) in this universe. These ingredients are most vivid in the first chapter, “The Path Of Fear,” where the audience is taken to an onslaught during the Clone Wars which leaves her by all intents and purposes the sole survivor of her clan. This is all told with some vivid and frightening sequences, capturing her when she’s most fragile and showing where the initial germ of her motivations to evil take root.
What is less clear, however, is how only one chapter later – Chapter 2: “The Path Of Anger” – she’s suddenly seeking the approval of the Galactic Empire. Without going into the particulars, the installment opens with her giving a presentation to some admirals in hopes of winning an Imperial contract to construct a new class of TIE fighters; and I was left wondering, “How in the heck did we get from there to here?” Why would this woman – knowing that the Empire was loosely tied to her family being desecrated – now be trying to essentially ‘get in bed’ with them? Yes, yes, and yes: I realize that allegiances were shifting in these dark times, but I would think that she’d instead be trying to establish relationships to undo what Palpatine put in place (which is kinda/sorta where Chapter 3 inevitably heads). This lack of impetus never quite gets cleared up – she’s basically become her own regional overlord – and that kills the story’s momentum for me.
By contrast, the women brought to life under Filoni’s care were a wide variety of different species, characteristics, likes, dislikes, and traits. Vivid and colorful, they all spoke with respective purposes, and they were given all kinds of different origin stories, personal histories, and the like. Now, I love women as much as the next red-blooded male – I am what I am, as Popeye once famously said – but this rather obvious dumbing down of the masculine archetypes should’ve been a cause for alarm earlier amongst critics and general watchers because it reinforces a Progressive stereotype: men are, functionally, all the same, but women comes in all shapes, sizes, and (if you believe the political Left) genders!
As I said above: sigh.
Under Filoni’s tenure, the representation of male diversity has all but disappeared from that galaxy far, far away; and – in its place – Lucasfilm and Mouse House have been able to craftily indoctrinate their audience to embrace “the fairer sex” at every opportunity.
This brings me to Morgan Elsbeth.
From what I know, this human member of Filoni’s Nightsisters was first brought to life aboard The Mandalorian’s second season; and she was given even greater narrative spotlight in the first season of his Ahsoka series. Largely painted as an evildoer, Elsbeth was responsible for taking audiences to an all-new quadrant of space with hopes of rescuing her villainous sponsor – a rather portly Grand Admiral Thrawn (see what I mean about negative male representations?) – only then to find herself abandoned (again, negative male representation) and, ultimately, cut down by Ahsoka in a truncated showdown. Now – for some unexplainable reason – Filoni felt it necessary to give this character a backstory, one that – again – paints her as a victim, thus trying to whitewash her dastardly deeds beneath a bit of modern psychobabble.
(You guessed it: men turned her into what she is. At this point, these people are so unoriginal.)
Regardless, I find it important to note that there is some very good storytelling – and very inspired Star Wars – at work in Elsbeth entirely unnecessary arc. While very little of substance is learned, Filoni and scriptwriter Amanda Rose Muñoz take the required steps to establish the events of the lady’s existence that explains how she ultimately becomes a source for badassery (my word, not theirs) in this universe. These ingredients are most vivid in the first chapter, “The Path Of Fear,” where the audience is taken to an onslaught during the Clone Wars which leaves her by all intents and purposes the sole survivor of her clan. This is all told with some vivid and frightening sequences, capturing her when she’s most fragile and showing where the initial germ of her motivations to evil take root.
What is less clear, however, is how only one chapter later – Chapter 2: “The Path Of Anger” – she’s suddenly seeking the approval of the Galactic Empire. Without going into the particulars, the installment opens with her giving a presentation to some admirals in hopes of winning an Imperial contract to construct a new class of TIE fighters; and I was left wondering, “How in the heck did we get from there to here?” Why would this woman – knowing that the Empire was loosely tied to her family being desecrated – now be trying to essentially ‘get in bed’ with them? Yes, yes, and yes: I realize that allegiances were shifting in these dark times, but I would think that she’d instead be trying to establish relationships to undo what Palpatine put in place (which is kinda/sorta where Chapter 3 inevitably heads). This lack of impetus never quite gets cleared up – she’s basically become her own regional overlord – and that kills the story’s momentum for me.
All of Elsbeth’s business at this part of her journey is brought to a close with “The Path Of Hate,” a dark section that truly only serves to show us who we already knew she was in The Mandalorian and Ahsoka – a tyrant on a personal mission of glory to nothing greater than herself. Again, I didn’t feel as if I learned anything significant about the player. It’s all facts and figures, really, and there’s just no thematic current to any of it. While others who are unaware of what role she plays in the aforementioned Disney+ series might be better served to watch this feature before delving into those, folks like me who’ve already invested time in this galaxy far, far away might be left scratching our heads. Was this really necessary? Was this even worth the expense?
It should go without saying that the best time to functionally introduce characters (in any fictional universe) is when there’s something to say about them. Crafting villains – male or female – shouldn’t be about getting some cool, nifty, or swell onto the big or small screen; and they should serve not only a narrative purpose but also some wider goal in the whole story. While I’ve no problem with this being Elsbeth’s backstory, I’m still questioning why it couldn’t have been worked directly into her earlier live-action visits to The Mandalorian and Ahsoka. Giving me data in such a fashion leaves me with a kinda/sorta “yeah, I guess it’s nice to know” impression but in no way, shape, or form affects the broader universe in any conceivable way. So much of this was entirely inconsequential, making me suspect this was a vanity project and nothing more.
Star Wars: Tales Of The Empire (Episodes 1-3) were produced by Lucasfilm and Lucasfilm Animation. The episodes are currently streaming on Disney+.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
A nice development or two can’t overwhelm the questions as to why anyone thought bringing the backstory of a deceased throwaway villain in a universe once rich as Star Wars was even necessary. Morgan Elsbeth was no Darth Vader. She’s certainly no Emperor Palpatine. And she’s definitely no Jabba The Hutt. Though the animation continues to reach the heights audiences have come to expect from the name ‘Filoni,’ this storytelling felt a bit vacuous and needless come its big finish. Perhaps he has more in store for this character? Since he’s established that the dead can rise again now in this property, maybe Elsbeth will be getting her own spin-off program … complete with zombie make-up.
In the interests of fairness, I’m beholden to no one for this review of Star Wars: Tales Of The Empire (Episodes 1-3) which I viewed via streaming by my very own subscription to Disney+ … so take that, Lucasfilm!
-- EZ
It should go without saying that the best time to functionally introduce characters (in any fictional universe) is when there’s something to say about them. Crafting villains – male or female – shouldn’t be about getting some cool, nifty, or swell onto the big or small screen; and they should serve not only a narrative purpose but also some wider goal in the whole story. While I’ve no problem with this being Elsbeth’s backstory, I’m still questioning why it couldn’t have been worked directly into her earlier live-action visits to The Mandalorian and Ahsoka. Giving me data in such a fashion leaves me with a kinda/sorta “yeah, I guess it’s nice to know” impression but in no way, shape, or form affects the broader universe in any conceivable way. So much of this was entirely inconsequential, making me suspect this was a vanity project and nothing more.
Star Wars: Tales Of The Empire (Episodes 1-3) were produced by Lucasfilm and Lucasfilm Animation. The episodes are currently streaming on Disney+.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
A nice development or two can’t overwhelm the questions as to why anyone thought bringing the backstory of a deceased throwaway villain in a universe once rich as Star Wars was even necessary. Morgan Elsbeth was no Darth Vader. She’s certainly no Emperor Palpatine. And she’s definitely no Jabba The Hutt. Though the animation continues to reach the heights audiences have come to expect from the name ‘Filoni,’ this storytelling felt a bit vacuous and needless come its big finish. Perhaps he has more in store for this character? Since he’s established that the dead can rise again now in this property, maybe Elsbeth will be getting her own spin-off program … complete with zombie make-up.
In the interests of fairness, I’m beholden to no one for this review of Star Wars: Tales Of The Empire (Episodes 1-3) which I viewed via streaming by my very own subscription to Disney+ … so take that, Lucasfilm!
-- EZ