- Published on
Folks, let's get something straight: I'm not opposed to reboots.
Still, what I am opposed to -- strongly opposed to -- are unnecessary reboots.
If you're going to redo any story just for the sake of redoing it, then I ask, "Why?" What's the point? If you're not going to bring anything new or fresh or different to a mythology, then what's the motivation to revisit any universe?
And ... for that matter ... it isn't as if an Intellectual Property like The Crow is something that fandom has been clamoring for a do-over. The late Brandon Lee -- along with the fact that the young man was tragically shot dead in production of the film -- gave what's arguably one of the better performances in Gothic Fantasy ever; so dusting off the already celebrated universe for a fresh take may not be in anyone's best interest ... but Hollywood never passes up the chance when given.
So ...
I've received some of the publicity materials regarding 2024's The Crow in my inbox this morning; and I wanted to do the noble thing, pass along such info to my readers, and whatnot. I've just watched the trailer -- honestly, trailers just never excite me -- and it's certainly interesting. While I'll circumstantially agree with most that I'm not quite convinced that Bill Skardgard has the chops required to bring said legacy to bold, new life, it does look as if this incarnation of the troubled soul who can't find peace in this life or the next might have injected the universe with some John Wick-style fight choreography and ample buckets of blood. That can't be all bad ... can it?
Well, you be the judge. I'll throw in a few pictures along with some of the information shared with me via my contact at Lionsgate.
-- EZ
Still, what I am opposed to -- strongly opposed to -- are unnecessary reboots.
If you're going to redo any story just for the sake of redoing it, then I ask, "Why?" What's the point? If you're not going to bring anything new or fresh or different to a mythology, then what's the motivation to revisit any universe?
And ... for that matter ... it isn't as if an Intellectual Property like The Crow is something that fandom has been clamoring for a do-over. The late Brandon Lee -- along with the fact that the young man was tragically shot dead in production of the film -- gave what's arguably one of the better performances in Gothic Fantasy ever; so dusting off the already celebrated universe for a fresh take may not be in anyone's best interest ... but Hollywood never passes up the chance when given.
So ...
I've received some of the publicity materials regarding 2024's The Crow in my inbox this morning; and I wanted to do the noble thing, pass along such info to my readers, and whatnot. I've just watched the trailer -- honestly, trailers just never excite me -- and it's certainly interesting. While I'll circumstantially agree with most that I'm not quite convinced that Bill Skardgard has the chops required to bring said legacy to bold, new life, it does look as if this incarnation of the troubled soul who can't find peace in this life or the next might have injected the universe with some John Wick-style fight choreography and ample buckets of blood. That can't be all bad ... can it?
Well, you be the judge. I'll throw in a few pictures along with some of the information shared with me via my contact at Lionsgate.
-- EZ
A note from Bill Skarsgård:
I was a huge fan of the original film growing up as a kid and was so honored to take on the role of Eric Draven. But really what drew me to it was what Rupert Sanders wanted to do with it. He wanted to completely reimagine the story and the character and tailor it towards a modern audience. It’s a character that I know many revere and have a strong connection to - he is unlike any I’ve ever taken on before. Working with the remarkably talented FKA Twigs was magical. I felt a responsibility to Eric’s story and endeavored to stay true to the spirit of the source material; I can’t wait for the world to see the film, and hope it resonates with audiences as strongly as it did with those of us involved.
I was a huge fan of the original film growing up as a kid and was so honored to take on the role of Eric Draven. But really what drew me to it was what Rupert Sanders wanted to do with it. He wanted to completely reimagine the story and the character and tailor it towards a modern audience. It’s a character that I know many revere and have a strong connection to - he is unlike any I’ve ever taken on before. Working with the remarkably talented FKA Twigs was magical. I felt a responsibility to Eric’s story and endeavored to stay true to the spirit of the source material; I can’t wait for the world to see the film, and hope it resonates with audiences as strongly as it did with those of us involved.
A note from FKA twigs:
I am so thrilled to be in THE CROW alongside the talented Bill Skardgard and extraordinary director Rupert Sanders. The love Bill and I share on screen is effortless and indicative of the authenticity and ease that I dreamed of bringing to the role of Shelley. Eric and Shelley’s unbreakable unity is so profound and beautiful, something I hope we all feel at least once as part of the human experience. I am so excited that the trailer is being unveiled and even more excited to have the world see the film this summer.
I am so thrilled to be in THE CROW alongside the talented Bill Skardgard and extraordinary director Rupert Sanders. The love Bill and I share on screen is effortless and indicative of the authenticity and ease that I dreamed of bringing to the role of Shelley. Eric and Shelley’s unbreakable unity is so profound and beautiful, something I hope we all feel at least once as part of the human experience. I am so excited that the trailer is being unveiled and even more excited to have the world see the film this summer.
A note from Director Rupert Sanders:
The Crow is the original anti-superhero. His story is about tragic loss, about dealing with the pain of everything that comes with losing someone you love, something that all of us have or will encounter at some point in our lives. It is about the dark shadow of grief, about what we would do when something so meaningful is taken from us.
The original graphic novel is deeply meaningful for so many, and the character, his journey and his need for revenge has inspired a canon of films for the last three decades. Our version goes back to that graphic novel by James O’Barr, who I had the honour of meeting shortly before production, and explores the love story as the primary drive for our film.
What Alex Proyas did with the Crow in 1994 - and Brandon Lee's iconic embodiment of that character - will forever impact that generation and others to follow. It was a culture-defining film that is beloved to this day and has inspired many other iterations both inside and outside the Crow Universe.
That film sparked a fire with the youth of that day, a youth who grew up on hard, alternative rock, punk and metal, that binged on MTV and zines. It held a mirror to that generation in the aesthetic of the film, its smoky, rain-drenched streets, stylized and subverted sets, its leather-clad hero and chain wielding villains. It expressed its time in a very specific, music-driven vision, that spoke to a young audience who had never been spoken to in that way. It became a cult classic.
Our interpretation of James’ work also reflects this young generation, whose tastes and references have changed so dramatically from the original film. Hopefully it speaks to them in their language, with their style and music and hopefully will get them to discover Alex Proyas' film and James O’Barr’s graphic novel, bringing a new audience to the source material.
For this story is as universal as an epic poem or Greek myth, it deals with the very primal, naturalistic emotions of love, grief and rage and it also deals with the supernatural and physiological imaginings of heaven and hell, the dead and the undead. It explores the great positive force of love and the great negative force of rage and hate that stands in its shadow, it asks what would we do, but also what would we have become by doing so. When Eric slumps to the floor, covered in the blood of the slain, we look deep into his eyes and he asks us...why?
I am very pleased to have worked with two young actors whose performances are the backbone of this film. Bill Skarsgard is so committed and vulnerable, monstrously violent and delicately tender, he brings so many layers to the complex emotion of a man consumed with so much love and hate, but also a man who will do anything for the woman he loves. He fights, numb with pain and grief, killing and maiming for the one he loves…but to what end? FKA Twigs brings the same unique and wondrous talent that she does to her entire volume of work and her performance and the vacuum created by her absence undoubtedly gives reason for this Crow to be born.
The Crow is the original anti-superhero. His story is about tragic loss, about dealing with the pain of everything that comes with losing someone you love, something that all of us have or will encounter at some point in our lives. It is about the dark shadow of grief, about what we would do when something so meaningful is taken from us.
The original graphic novel is deeply meaningful for so many, and the character, his journey and his need for revenge has inspired a canon of films for the last three decades. Our version goes back to that graphic novel by James O’Barr, who I had the honour of meeting shortly before production, and explores the love story as the primary drive for our film.
What Alex Proyas did with the Crow in 1994 - and Brandon Lee's iconic embodiment of that character - will forever impact that generation and others to follow. It was a culture-defining film that is beloved to this day and has inspired many other iterations both inside and outside the Crow Universe.
That film sparked a fire with the youth of that day, a youth who grew up on hard, alternative rock, punk and metal, that binged on MTV and zines. It held a mirror to that generation in the aesthetic of the film, its smoky, rain-drenched streets, stylized and subverted sets, its leather-clad hero and chain wielding villains. It expressed its time in a very specific, music-driven vision, that spoke to a young audience who had never been spoken to in that way. It became a cult classic.
Our interpretation of James’ work also reflects this young generation, whose tastes and references have changed so dramatically from the original film. Hopefully it speaks to them in their language, with their style and music and hopefully will get them to discover Alex Proyas' film and James O’Barr’s graphic novel, bringing a new audience to the source material.
For this story is as universal as an epic poem or Greek myth, it deals with the very primal, naturalistic emotions of love, grief and rage and it also deals with the supernatural and physiological imaginings of heaven and hell, the dead and the undead. It explores the great positive force of love and the great negative force of rage and hate that stands in its shadow, it asks what would we do, but also what would we have become by doing so. When Eric slumps to the floor, covered in the blood of the slain, we look deep into his eyes and he asks us...why?
I am very pleased to have worked with two young actors whose performances are the backbone of this film. Bill Skarsgard is so committed and vulnerable, monstrously violent and delicately tender, he brings so many layers to the complex emotion of a man consumed with so much love and hate, but also a man who will do anything for the woman he loves. He fights, numb with pain and grief, killing and maiming for the one he loves…but to what end? FKA Twigs brings the same unique and wondrous talent that she does to her entire volume of work and her performance and the vacuum created by her absence undoubtedly gives reason for this Crow to be born.
FOLLOW #THECROW ONLINE
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thecrow
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TheCrow_Movie
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheCrow
Directed by: Rupert Sanders
Written by: Zach Baylin, and William Schneider
Produced by: Edward R. Pressman, Samuel Hadida, Victor Hadida, John Jencks, Molly Hassell
Cast: Bill Skarsgård, FKA twigs, and Danny Huston
Synopsis: Bill Skarsgård takes on the iconic role of THE CROW in this modern reimagining of the original graphic novel by James O’Barr.
Soulmates Eric Draven (Skarsgård) and Shelly Webster (FKA twigs) are brutally murdered when the demons of her dark past catch up with them. Given the chance to save his true love by sacrificing himself, Eric sets out to seek merciless revenge on their killers, traversing the worlds of the living and the dead to put the wrong things right.
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thecrow
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TheCrow_Movie
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheCrow
Directed by: Rupert Sanders
Written by: Zach Baylin, and William Schneider
Produced by: Edward R. Pressman, Samuel Hadida, Victor Hadida, John Jencks, Molly Hassell
Cast: Bill Skarsgård, FKA twigs, and Danny Huston
Synopsis: Bill Skarsgård takes on the iconic role of THE CROW in this modern reimagining of the original graphic novel by James O’Barr.
Soulmates Eric Draven (Skarsgård) and Shelly Webster (FKA twigs) are brutally murdered when the demons of her dark past catch up with them. Given the chance to save his true love by sacrificing himself, Eric sets out to seek merciless revenge on their killers, traversing the worlds of the living and the dead to put the wrong things right.
- Published on
Good morning, gentle readers, and welcome to On This Day In Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror History for today's date ... March 14, 2024.
Whew! Typing that is a mouthful! (Well ... you know what I mean.)
Not a whole heckuva lot to report for this morning. I'm up and puttering about the house doing a few chores, and I decided to take a few moments out to do the Daily Grindhouse post for those of you paying attention. It's a moderate morning here in the Other Land Down Under (aka Arizona), though I do see a few clouds on the horizon. Rain? Not very likely. Not here in Dryland. And we could use it.
Whew! Typing that is a mouthful! (Well ... you know what I mean.)
Not a whole heckuva lot to report for this morning. I'm up and puttering about the house doing a few chores, and I decided to take a few moments out to do the Daily Grindhouse post for those of you paying attention. It's a moderate morning here in the Other Land Down Under (aka Arizona), though I do see a few clouds on the horizon. Rain? Not very likely. Not here in Dryland. And we could use it.
Oh, good grief, I can hear the haters already ...
... for it was on this day all the way back in the year 1994 -- thirty years ago today -- that the television incarnation of RoboCop first reported for duty. Lasting only a single season -- with 23 individual episodes -- the series has been largely maligned by fandom, probably in part because it had to understandably tone down a lot of the gratuitous violence associated with the film series. For what it's worth, what I've seen of it has been mostly passable -- I don't hate it, but it's a long way from being a favorite, as well -- and I give it kudos for trying to incorporate some of the cynicism that made the Intellectual Property popular with audiences while also metastasizing into a more mainstream commodity (curse you, television censors!). A noble attempt ... but, yeah, wouldn't it be great to get a serialized do-over ... maybe on a pay cable channel or streaming platform ... that could be a welcome return-to-form for Robo?
I do know that -- as of fairly recently -- the property has had no one but two significant releases on DVD. (In fact, I received a complimentary copy of one, and I've penned a few episodes reviews here on the site.) Fandom criticized one of the efforts mostly because it was kinda/sorta (horrifically) reformatted to fit modern screen sizes; and I'd agree that such a transformation didn't always bode well in some sequences. Still, I think it's great that older shows can find new life, even if they might not have met with genre's highest standards back in the day.
... for it was on this day all the way back in the year 1994 -- thirty years ago today -- that the television incarnation of RoboCop first reported for duty. Lasting only a single season -- with 23 individual episodes -- the series has been largely maligned by fandom, probably in part because it had to understandably tone down a lot of the gratuitous violence associated with the film series. For what it's worth, what I've seen of it has been mostly passable -- I don't hate it, but it's a long way from being a favorite, as well -- and I give it kudos for trying to incorporate some of the cynicism that made the Intellectual Property popular with audiences while also metastasizing into a more mainstream commodity (curse you, television censors!). A noble attempt ... but, yeah, wouldn't it be great to get a serialized do-over ... maybe on a pay cable channel or streaming platform ... that could be a welcome return-to-form for Robo?
I do know that -- as of fairly recently -- the property has had no one but two significant releases on DVD. (In fact, I received a complimentary copy of one, and I've penned a few episodes reviews here on the site.) Fandom criticized one of the efforts mostly because it was kinda/sorta (horrifically) reformatted to fit modern screen sizes; and I'd agree that such a transformation didn't always bode well in some sequences. Still, I think it's great that older shows can find new life, even if they might not have met with genre's highest standards back in the day.
Speaking of turning one more year wiser, let's all clap our hands together to celebrate the birthday of actress Penny Johnson Jerald.
Her face isn't, say, well known to all of America, but she's definitely earned her stripes in the realm of Science Fiction and Fantasy, appearing as a frequent guest aboard Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and as a series' regular aboard the Trek-inspired entity that is/was The Orville. (No word yet on a renewal, sad to say.) Thankfully, she's played strong confident women in both shows; and -- for that matter -- I even loved her work aboard Fox TV's celebrated 24 when it was in existence. She's a top class talent, and I love being able to feature her goodness in this space.
Happy birthday, milady, wherever in the galaxy you might be!
Her face isn't, say, well known to all of America, but she's definitely earned her stripes in the realm of Science Fiction and Fantasy, appearing as a frequent guest aboard Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and as a series' regular aboard the Trek-inspired entity that is/was The Orville. (No word yet on a renewal, sad to say.) Thankfully, she's played strong confident women in both shows; and -- for that matter -- I even loved her work aboard Fox TV's celebrated 24 when it was in existence. She's a top class talent, and I love being able to feature her goodness in this space.
Happy birthday, milady, wherever in the galaxy you might be!
But you don't think that this is seriously all there is to the day worth celebrating, do you? Of course not, and there's a good deal more awaiting your personal deep dive, so don't delay. Head on over to the Daily Citation Page for March 14th and boldly go where no one has gone before.
As always, thank you for reading ... thank you for sharing ... thank you for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Folks, I don't shill products for anyone.
Now, this isn't to say that I wouldn't accept some advertising inquiries to SciFiHistory.Net, because nothing could be further from the truth. I'd have to hammer out some real policies were I so inclined to go out there and recruit some interested companies; but -- at the end of the day -- I'd have to be very, very, very specific about what I'd allow to be promoted in this space than are some of the website I visit. I like staying true to my colors, and, yes, that means I'd only be inclined to point readers in the direction of the absolute best products in the marketplace showcasing Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror. Truer words were never spoken ... well ... written, anyway.
I've mentioned many times before that I used to avidly -- very avidly -- collect all kinds of items, from books to action figures -- but there came a day when it both got too expensive and just not interesting enough. You can only have so many sculpts of secondary characters -- especially when you're dealing with universes as vast as Star Wars and Star Trek -- but I do still from time-to-time check out the shelves in Target and WalMart. Occasionally, something of merit prompts a word from yours truly, and that's why I'm slinging a few words this morning in defense of Doorables' Star Wars Collection.
Ok, ok, ok ... stop right there.
Look, haters: this isn't about supporting or not supporting the Walt Disney Company and Lucasfilm. Like so many of you, I'm not exactly enamored with the current state of affairs for the galaxy far, far away; but -- as I've always said -- I'm free to like what I like ... and I happened to have fallen head over heels for these super-small figures because they're just so damn adorable.
Of course, I'm not up on the whole Doorables' history. It looks like this line in particular has been around from Disney for some time, as the internet has a handful of different series focusing on the full gamut of Disney-specific properties. While I'm not much interested in those, I am very keen on the whole Star Wars stuff, chiefly because the bulk of what I've seen ties back to the Original Trilogy as opposed to the (cough cough) God-awful Sequel Travesty. (I said what I said; I'm not sorry.) These blind bag assortments come in a few different packaging choices -- there are figures with vehicles or just plain figures (concealed in a Death Star replica) -- and they're all reasonably priced (as compared to traditional action figures). Granted, you can't much play with them -- zero articulation and really possess only display potential -- but if you're like me you can't help but stick these little guys all around the desk, the shelves, and the house in general.
I'm including a few pics that I snapped yesterday for posterity's sake. If I pick up any more of the blind bags and get something special, I'll probably share on the MainPage as well.
-- EZ
Now, this isn't to say that I wouldn't accept some advertising inquiries to SciFiHistory.Net, because nothing could be further from the truth. I'd have to hammer out some real policies were I so inclined to go out there and recruit some interested companies; but -- at the end of the day -- I'd have to be very, very, very specific about what I'd allow to be promoted in this space than are some of the website I visit. I like staying true to my colors, and, yes, that means I'd only be inclined to point readers in the direction of the absolute best products in the marketplace showcasing Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror. Truer words were never spoken ... well ... written, anyway.
I've mentioned many times before that I used to avidly -- very avidly -- collect all kinds of items, from books to action figures -- but there came a day when it both got too expensive and just not interesting enough. You can only have so many sculpts of secondary characters -- especially when you're dealing with universes as vast as Star Wars and Star Trek -- but I do still from time-to-time check out the shelves in Target and WalMart. Occasionally, something of merit prompts a word from yours truly, and that's why I'm slinging a few words this morning in defense of Doorables' Star Wars Collection.
Ok, ok, ok ... stop right there.
Look, haters: this isn't about supporting or not supporting the Walt Disney Company and Lucasfilm. Like so many of you, I'm not exactly enamored with the current state of affairs for the galaxy far, far away; but -- as I've always said -- I'm free to like what I like ... and I happened to have fallen head over heels for these super-small figures because they're just so damn adorable.
Of course, I'm not up on the whole Doorables' history. It looks like this line in particular has been around from Disney for some time, as the internet has a handful of different series focusing on the full gamut of Disney-specific properties. While I'm not much interested in those, I am very keen on the whole Star Wars stuff, chiefly because the bulk of what I've seen ties back to the Original Trilogy as opposed to the (cough cough) God-awful Sequel Travesty. (I said what I said; I'm not sorry.) These blind bag assortments come in a few different packaging choices -- there are figures with vehicles or just plain figures (concealed in a Death Star replica) -- and they're all reasonably priced (as compared to traditional action figures). Granted, you can't much play with them -- zero articulation and really possess only display potential -- but if you're like me you can't help but stick these little guys all around the desk, the shelves, and the house in general.
I'm including a few pics that I snapped yesterday for posterity's sake. If I pick up any more of the blind bags and get something special, I'll probably share on the MainPage as well.
-- 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:
“A dying gunfighter spends his last days looking for a way to die with a minimum of pain and a maximum of dignity.”
Regular readers of SciFiHistory.Net might’ve noticed that for this review of Don Siegel’s The Shootist (1976) I’ve dispensed with the usual introductory format.
To be blunt, not every motion picture needs to be discussed in general terms like I do in that preamble. Granted, I do try to open each column with a wider observation on the nature of the picture or its subject matter; but my real problem here is that The Shootist has always been one of my personal favorite Westerns for reasons I’d rather include in the wider body of discussion. So, yes, as you might’ve guessed, this is a personal experience for me; and I hope you’ll grant me a bit of leeway in unraveling my thoughts on it, its place in film history, and how it rests in my own personal pantheon of favorites.
Unlike so many, I first discovered The Shootist in its original print form. This popular 1975 tome was written by Glendon Swarthout, and – from what I’ve read – the rights for it were snatched up very, very quickly. As a part of the production deal, Swarthout insisted that his son – Miles Hood Swarthout – be contracted to pen the screenplay, a development that certainly coincides to a small degree with themes in the book, namely the father/son dynamic that gets represented by legendary gunslinger J.B. Books (played by Hollywood legend John Wayne) filling in as a surrogate father figure to young Gillom Rogers (Ron Howard). Having read (and even reread) the story, I was reasonably familiar with it when I first viewed the production on home video well after its run in the theaters; and I was thrilled with how well the resulting script stayed close to the source material.
Without belaboring the point, I’ve always said that I love The Shootist because it both is and isn’t a traditional Western. As I realize that might confuse some, let me clarify: Don Siegel imbued his picture with many of the usual tropes commonly accepted with any film in the genre, but he was also prescient enough to recognize that Swarthout’s novel functioned as a kinda/sorta ‘passing of the torch’ culturally. The days of the Wild West were quickly coming to an end as the 1800’s turned into the 1900’s, and it’s this encroaching mortality that drives the narrative and its characters. Nothing lasts forever – even legends come and go these days – and precisely how we deal with that change in reality speaks volumes about who each of us was as a person … and it’s this struggle – this finding of self in a last expression – that troubles J.B. Books up until his demise on his own terms.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A dying gunfighter spends his last days looking for a way to die with a minimum of pain and a maximum of dignity.”
Regular readers of SciFiHistory.Net might’ve noticed that for this review of Don Siegel’s The Shootist (1976) I’ve dispensed with the usual introductory format.
To be blunt, not every motion picture needs to be discussed in general terms like I do in that preamble. Granted, I do try to open each column with a wider observation on the nature of the picture or its subject matter; but my real problem here is that The Shootist has always been one of my personal favorite Westerns for reasons I’d rather include in the wider body of discussion. So, yes, as you might’ve guessed, this is a personal experience for me; and I hope you’ll grant me a bit of leeway in unraveling my thoughts on it, its place in film history, and how it rests in my own personal pantheon of favorites.
Unlike so many, I first discovered The Shootist in its original print form. This popular 1975 tome was written by Glendon Swarthout, and – from what I’ve read – the rights for it were snatched up very, very quickly. As a part of the production deal, Swarthout insisted that his son – Miles Hood Swarthout – be contracted to pen the screenplay, a development that certainly coincides to a small degree with themes in the book, namely the father/son dynamic that gets represented by legendary gunslinger J.B. Books (played by Hollywood legend John Wayne) filling in as a surrogate father figure to young Gillom Rogers (Ron Howard). Having read (and even reread) the story, I was reasonably familiar with it when I first viewed the production on home video well after its run in the theaters; and I was thrilled with how well the resulting script stayed close to the source material.
Without belaboring the point, I’ve always said that I love The Shootist because it both is and isn’t a traditional Western. As I realize that might confuse some, let me clarify: Don Siegel imbued his picture with many of the usual tropes commonly accepted with any film in the genre, but he was also prescient enough to recognize that Swarthout’s novel functioned as a kinda/sorta ‘passing of the torch’ culturally. The days of the Wild West were quickly coming to an end as the 1800’s turned into the 1900’s, and it’s this encroaching mortality that drives the narrative and its characters. Nothing lasts forever – even legends come and go these days – and precisely how we deal with that change in reality speaks volumes about who each of us was as a person … and it’s this struggle – this finding of self in a last expression – that troubles J.B. Books up until his demise on his own terms.
At this point, I have to warn readers that we’re venturing into spoiler territory. Those who traffic in these parts know that I don’t do that lightly ever – yes, even on films several decades old – because I’m remiss to tarnish any experience. However, it’s important here as I need to underscore something that the picture alters significantly from the book; and it’s kinda/sorta close to why I prefer one ending over another.
In the film, Books spends the bulk of his few last days pining away for whatever small human connection he can find. In a rather protracted timeframe, he sees the good, the bad, and the ugly of life in the West; but audiences are spoon-fed in standard Hollywood fashion that there’s a method to the madness – that each subsequent experience leads up to the gunfighter’s reflections on his life and its approaching end – and that’s all well and good. Once he’s assured by the town physician Dr. Hostetler (Jimmy Stewart) that lying in bed wasting painfully away is no way to die, Books concocts his own scheme to go out in a fitting blaze of pistols: he invites the three deadliest adversaries to a time and a place of his choosing, knowing full well that shots will be fired and – in his debilitated condition – he’s likely to lose. And badly.
But Fate can be a – pardon the expression – a “cruel bitch,” and Books – to his credit – survives, though he’s arguably not destined to long in this world. Audiences watched as ‘the Duke’ rolled over and closed his eyes for the last time, dying in the presence of young Gillom who shot down the man’s attacker, a cowardly barkeep who blasted two barrels into J.B.’s back while turned.
OK … final warning about spoilers …
In the novel, the situation is largely the same. Functionally, the greatest difference lies in the fact that Gillom isn’t as noble as he’s depicted onscreen by Howard. In fact, Gillom formatively is a bit of a bad seed who bonds with Books more over his legendary predilection for violence than he does the fact that there’s an absent father (deceased) at home. While the film gives hints that the lad has started down the path not dissimilar to that which drove Books to a life of isolation, Siegel and company perhaps found that too dour to depict on the silver screen. But as the gunslinger is bleeding out on the floor of the saloon and he comes to realization that he’s still dying too slowly, he instead asks Gillom to finish the job … and the boy does. In the novel, Gillom even leaves the bar fully in possession of Books’ six-shooters, seemingly fully committed to setting out on course to raise a little Hell all of his own … while the Siegel film shows the boy throwing the guns away and choosing a life of peace over what he witnessed.
See what I mean?
You couldn’t quite ask for two endings to be, thematically, further apart.
In the film, Books spends the bulk of his few last days pining away for whatever small human connection he can find. In a rather protracted timeframe, he sees the good, the bad, and the ugly of life in the West; but audiences are spoon-fed in standard Hollywood fashion that there’s a method to the madness – that each subsequent experience leads up to the gunfighter’s reflections on his life and its approaching end – and that’s all well and good. Once he’s assured by the town physician Dr. Hostetler (Jimmy Stewart) that lying in bed wasting painfully away is no way to die, Books concocts his own scheme to go out in a fitting blaze of pistols: he invites the three deadliest adversaries to a time and a place of his choosing, knowing full well that shots will be fired and – in his debilitated condition – he’s likely to lose. And badly.
But Fate can be a – pardon the expression – a “cruel bitch,” and Books – to his credit – survives, though he’s arguably not destined to long in this world. Audiences watched as ‘the Duke’ rolled over and closed his eyes for the last time, dying in the presence of young Gillom who shot down the man’s attacker, a cowardly barkeep who blasted two barrels into J.B.’s back while turned.
OK … final warning about spoilers …
In the novel, the situation is largely the same. Functionally, the greatest difference lies in the fact that Gillom isn’t as noble as he’s depicted onscreen by Howard. In fact, Gillom formatively is a bit of a bad seed who bonds with Books more over his legendary predilection for violence than he does the fact that there’s an absent father (deceased) at home. While the film gives hints that the lad has started down the path not dissimilar to that which drove Books to a life of isolation, Siegel and company perhaps found that too dour to depict on the silver screen. But as the gunslinger is bleeding out on the floor of the saloon and he comes to realization that he’s still dying too slowly, he instead asks Gillom to finish the job … and the boy does. In the novel, Gillom even leaves the bar fully in possession of Books’ six-shooters, seemingly fully committed to setting out on course to raise a little Hell all of his own … while the Siegel film shows the boy throwing the guns away and choosing a life of peace over what he witnessed.
See what I mean?
You couldn’t quite ask for two endings to be, thematically, further apart.
It’s at this point that I have to confess that while both last scenes work wonderfully, I think that Siegel’s choice was the better of the two, especially where the ideas of the film are concerned. As I’ve mentioned, The Shootist truly is all about the signature last days of an untamed frontier, one that’s best exemplified by the life led by J.B. Books. Ignoring the novel’s hard-boiled and pulpy finale, the director stayed true to the undercurrent that gave the picture so much of its beating heart, giving even greater poignancy to the smaller moments Books himself shares with a barber, an undertaker, a newspaper reporter, and even the widow Bond Rogers (Lauren Bacall). Some of this is tender, and some of it is a bit treacherous, but – at the core – it’s all very human … perhaps the greatest tragedy involving us all.
Lastly, there is a great deal of context to what the world was at the change of the century, and the script takes great pains to capturing them – warts and all – leaving judgment to those in the viewing audience. Books ultimately tells you what he thinks of life, the universe, and everything. He even confides in you his life’s mission statement, and it’s a doozy. But he never forces the audience to see things his way. He never really draws a line in the sand and tells you which side to stand on if you knew what was best. Instead, he leaves you pretty much as he met you, free to make up your own mind when your time comes.
Of course, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention as so many have that this was Wayne’s last theatrical hurrah. He’d struggled with cancer before, and some ongoing issues with it even sidetracked filming during a bit of production on The Shootist. There are a good many critics who’ve pontificated about how the actor’s philosophy on life might’ve overlapped in small ways with the flick; and, yes, I suppose that, too, might make viewing this Western Classic tugging on one’s heartstrings in all the right ways. But as I’ve tried to be clear I think the Duke’s performance here is a winning one precisely because it fits so well with the story as designed by the father and son team of the Swarthout family – one aging cowboy desperate to have his last stand mean something to him and no one else. That’s why I’ll always insist that The Shootist is the stuff of movie magic.
The Shootist (1976) was produced by Paramount Picture, Dino De Laurentiis Company, and Polyphony Digital. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to this reported 4K restoration from the original 35mm camera negative to be exceptional on all counts. (I noticed a few sequences with an awful lot of grain, and I suspect that’s most likely owed to problems with the source.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, this is Arrow Films we’re talking about, so I’m doing the copy-and-paste from the Bluray.com listing just for accuracy’s sake:
Lastly, there is a great deal of context to what the world was at the change of the century, and the script takes great pains to capturing them – warts and all – leaving judgment to those in the viewing audience. Books ultimately tells you what he thinks of life, the universe, and everything. He even confides in you his life’s mission statement, and it’s a doozy. But he never forces the audience to see things his way. He never really draws a line in the sand and tells you which side to stand on if you knew what was best. Instead, he leaves you pretty much as he met you, free to make up your own mind when your time comes.
Of course, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention as so many have that this was Wayne’s last theatrical hurrah. He’d struggled with cancer before, and some ongoing issues with it even sidetracked filming during a bit of production on The Shootist. There are a good many critics who’ve pontificated about how the actor’s philosophy on life might’ve overlapped in small ways with the flick; and, yes, I suppose that, too, might make viewing this Western Classic tugging on one’s heartstrings in all the right ways. But as I’ve tried to be clear I think the Duke’s performance here is a winning one precisely because it fits so well with the story as designed by the father and son team of the Swarthout family – one aging cowboy desperate to have his last stand mean something to him and no one else. That’s why I’ll always insist that The Shootist is the stuff of movie magic.
The Shootist (1976) was produced by Paramount Picture, Dino De Laurentiis Company, and Polyphony Digital. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to this reported 4K restoration from the original 35mm camera negative to be exceptional on all counts. (I noticed a few sequences with an awful lot of grain, and I suspect that’s most likely owed to problems with the source.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, this is Arrow Films we’re talking about, so I’m doing the copy-and-paste from the Bluray.com listing just for accuracy’s sake:
NEW 2K RESTORATION by Arrow Films from the original 35mm camera negative
Again, I’ll remind readers that when I receive press copies, that I’m not provided artwork, reproductions, booklets, etc., so I cannot speak to the efficacy of what’s reported. I’m only given the disc, so I’m sticking to the video extras. They’re solid, though I’ll admit to turning off one of them only a few seconds in as the critic/historian felt it necessary to provide his opinion of Wayne’s politics, and I found that not only a bit offensive but also completely unnecessary. (Besides, Wayne is a bigger legend than any ol’ critic will ever be.) Also, Howard S. Berger’s audio commentary was particularly boring, so I didn’t make my way through a great deal of it. (Do better, Hollywood. Do better.)
Highly recommended.
Unlike others who wax-on-wax-off about pictures, I’ll not apologize for being a terrific fan of The Shootist (1976). To me, the film represented not only the end of an era in Westerns (what with it being Wayne’s last project) but also a new beginning, one wherein perhaps the kinda/sorta sqeaky-clean days of the American Frontier could be examined in a new light. It’s a rare character story – a significant departure for the traditional oater – and its performances by the principals and supporting players deserve the mythic respect that perhaps they’ve been afforded by their respective careers. Even though arrive late on the Wild West scene, its smart adaptation proved that these pioneers still had plenty to say … even if you knew they were all destined for Boot Hill in the big finish.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary screening copy of The Shootist (1976) 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
- Brand new audio commentary by filmmaker and critic Howard S. Berger
- The Last Day, a new visual essay by film critic David Cairns
- A Man-Making Moment, a new interview with Western author C. Courtney Joyner
- Laments of the West, a new appreciation of Elmer Bernstein's score by film historian and composer Neil Brand
- Contemplating John Wayne: The Death of a Cowboy, a new visual essay by filmmaker and critic Scout Tafoya
- The Shootist: The Legend Lives On, archival featurette
- Theatrical trailer
- Image gallery
- Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Juan Esteban Rodríguez
- Double-sided fold-out poster featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Juan Esteban Rodríguez
- Six postcard-sized lobby card reproductions
- Original lossless mono audio
- Optional English Subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing
- Illustrated collector's booklet featuring new writing by film critic Philip Kemp
Again, I’ll remind readers that when I receive press copies, that I’m not provided artwork, reproductions, booklets, etc., so I cannot speak to the efficacy of what’s reported. I’m only given the disc, so I’m sticking to the video extras. They’re solid, though I’ll admit to turning off one of them only a few seconds in as the critic/historian felt it necessary to provide his opinion of Wayne’s politics, and I found that not only a bit offensive but also completely unnecessary. (Besides, Wayne is a bigger legend than any ol’ critic will ever be.) Also, Howard S. Berger’s audio commentary was particularly boring, so I didn’t make my way through a great deal of it. (Do better, Hollywood. Do better.)
Highly recommended.
Unlike others who wax-on-wax-off about pictures, I’ll not apologize for being a terrific fan of The Shootist (1976). To me, the film represented not only the end of an era in Westerns (what with it being Wayne’s last project) but also a new beginning, one wherein perhaps the kinda/sorta sqeaky-clean days of the American Frontier could be examined in a new light. It’s a rare character story – a significant departure for the traditional oater – and its performances by the principals and supporting players deserve the mythic respect that perhaps they’ve been afforded by their respective careers. Even though arrive late on the Wild West scene, its smart adaptation proved that these pioneers still had plenty to say … even if you knew they were all destined for Boot Hill in the big finish.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary screening copy of The Shootist (1976) 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
Good morning, gentle readers, and welcome to On This Day In Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror History ... March 13, 2024!
How's everyone's Hump Day going?
Well, mine's going pretty good. I puttered a bit behind-the-scenes this morning with a good deal of genre research, some of which will eventually be showing up in the Daily Citation Pages on the site. Sometimes, I'll just set aside a few hours to research film titles and the like -- I've pretty much seen that those announcements are a good deal of what gets me 'clicks,' and 'clicks' are a necessary evil to surviving online these days -- so keep your eyes peeled. Nothing big or revelatory ... just a bit of this and that ...
Otherwise, I did manage to watch a few flicks yesterday afternoon, both of which I'll be covering on the Main Page with reviews. One came from a distributor, and one was an old film noir I picked up entirely on my own. Don't worry: you'll see the coverage when I'm good and ready, folks.
But ... with a mind-blowing 93 trivia citations ... let's get down to the brass tacks and see what's worthy of some extra observations by yours truly.
How's everyone's Hump Day going?
Well, mine's going pretty good. I puttered a bit behind-the-scenes this morning with a good deal of genre research, some of which will eventually be showing up in the Daily Citation Pages on the site. Sometimes, I'll just set aside a few hours to research film titles and the like -- I've pretty much seen that those announcements are a good deal of what gets me 'clicks,' and 'clicks' are a necessary evil to surviving online these days -- so keep your eyes peeled. Nothing big or revelatory ... just a bit of this and that ...
Otherwise, I did manage to watch a few flicks yesterday afternoon, both of which I'll be covering on the Main Page with reviews. One came from a distributor, and one was an old film noir I picked up entirely on my own. Don't worry: you'll see the coverage when I'm good and ready, folks.
But ... with a mind-blowing 93 trivia citations ... let's get down to the brass tacks and see what's worthy of some extra observations by yours truly.
No, no, and no: I am absolutely not getting into any of the controversial bits regarding the greater life of author and thinker L. Ron Hubbard.
Of course, I understand perfectly that even mentioning the man is not without a bit of controversy, but that's not why I do it. I highlight him because his novel Battlefield Earth is considered to be a bit of a Science Fiction and Fantasy classic by many in the business and certainly those who've read it. I do think it's pretty sad that the story hasn't quite had a proper theatrical or small screen telling, and I suspect a lot of this is probably owed to rights issues. Given his legacy and the greater greed of the dollar, I wonder if a proper telling might be a sum producers ultimately wouldn't want to pay ... and, yet, wouldn't it be great to get some long-form TV or streaming serial? I think it would ... but what do I know?
In any event, L. Ron Hubbard was born on this day back in 1911.
Of course, I understand perfectly that even mentioning the man is not without a bit of controversy, but that's not why I do it. I highlight him because his novel Battlefield Earth is considered to be a bit of a Science Fiction and Fantasy classic by many in the business and certainly those who've read it. I do think it's pretty sad that the story hasn't quite had a proper theatrical or small screen telling, and I suspect a lot of this is probably owed to rights issues. Given his legacy and the greater greed of the dollar, I wonder if a proper telling might be a sum producers ultimately wouldn't want to pay ... and, yet, wouldn't it be great to get some long-form TV or streaming serial? I think it would ... but what do I know?
In any event, L. Ron Hubbard was born on this day back in 1911.
I think it was just the other day that I was blogging about the reality of my particular 'critical' circumstance, that being that I tend to be 'of my own mind' on a lot of genre projects and that doesn't always align with what society thinks.
Today's case in point: 2010's Monsters from writer/director Gareth Edwards is a motion picture that many in fandom just kinda/sorta rag on -- meaning 'hate' on it -- but I actually enjoy it quite a bit. Oh, I realize that there isn't a great deal of authentic monster-on-monster action in the feature; and that's mostly because I think Edwards really wanted to challenge viewers with what he, ultimately, thought the definition of a 'monster' is in the world he created. Also, there's just a wonderful grittiness to it -- all the comforts of the modern world are largely stripped away, leaving a story about two lost souls finding themselves as their environment is closing in around them -- and, yes, that means it kinda/sorta ends on a pretty down note. But I love flicks with 'down notes,' and I consider Monsters a truly noble effort.
It first played theatrically on this day back in 2010.
Today's case in point: 2010's Monsters from writer/director Gareth Edwards is a motion picture that many in fandom just kinda/sorta rag on -- meaning 'hate' on it -- but I actually enjoy it quite a bit. Oh, I realize that there isn't a great deal of authentic monster-on-monster action in the feature; and that's mostly because I think Edwards really wanted to challenge viewers with what he, ultimately, thought the definition of a 'monster' is in the world he created. Also, there's just a wonderful grittiness to it -- all the comforts of the modern world are largely stripped away, leaving a story about two lost souls finding themselves as their environment is closing in around them -- and, yes, that means it kinda/sorta ends on a pretty down note. But I love flicks with 'down notes,' and I consider Monsters a truly noble effort.
It first played theatrically on this day back in 2010.
Why ... of course there's more! There's a great, great, great deal more, my good friend; and I give you my guarantee (or your money back) that there's something for everyone somewhere within those 93 different citations. It's truly mind-blowing, so I hope you'll check it out.
As always, thanks for reading ... thanks for sharing ... thanks for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Even by today’s standards, there really wasn’t anything else like grindhouse releases.
To some degree, it’s difficult to explain this unique subset of Horror, Mystery, and Fantasy to younger, contemporary audiences, mostly because this kind of story just doesn’t get told for screens big and small any longer. While some might chalk that up as an unintended consequence of the #MeToo Era, I tend to believe that storytellers have moved on from them as there just isn’t any marketplace for such schlock. Back in the days of the VHS craze and the launch of pay cable channels, you damn well couldn’t avoid such flicks – exploitation had its time and place – and even a modestly-budgeted stinker could still turn a profit if the producers invested in some ample flesh on display, a few buckets of well-timed blood, or a bloody power tool.
Ahhhh … the memories …
However, I’d argue that time hasn’t exactly been kind of these films of yesteryear, so much so that the moneymen have turned their interests elsewhere. Heck, I recall a time when you could sign some former TV juggernaut – say, William Shatner in the early 1970’s – bring in a storyteller schooled in trashy mediocrity – say, someone like writer/director/producer William Grefé – and somehow against all odds the magic still happened … magic that looked an awful lot like 1974’s Impulse. Such cinematic endeavors were never meant to transcend time and space. Instead, they were just intended to separate a fool from his money, leaving him just enough to purchase a drink and a small popcorn at the concession stand.
Well, the good people at Grindhouse Releasing – on an Impulse – have decided to bring Impulse back for today’s discerning viewers with an incredible assortment of extras. As imperfect as the film was (and still is), I suspect most will be drawn to this set for the expansive extras than they will the main event. Even the great William Shatner – at the absolute height of his Shatnerism – can’t quite rescue this one from obscurity no matter how hard he might try.
(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,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A paranoid, leisure-suit wearing conman/gigolo named Matt Stone seduces lonely women, bilks them of their savings via an investment scam, then kills them. When he begins seeing an attractive widow, her daughter Tina becomes suspicious of his motives.”
Kids, I don’t like to harp on films.
To some degree, it’s difficult to explain this unique subset of Horror, Mystery, and Fantasy to younger, contemporary audiences, mostly because this kind of story just doesn’t get told for screens big and small any longer. While some might chalk that up as an unintended consequence of the #MeToo Era, I tend to believe that storytellers have moved on from them as there just isn’t any marketplace for such schlock. Back in the days of the VHS craze and the launch of pay cable channels, you damn well couldn’t avoid such flicks – exploitation had its time and place – and even a modestly-budgeted stinker could still turn a profit if the producers invested in some ample flesh on display, a few buckets of well-timed blood, or a bloody power tool.
Ahhhh … the memories …
However, I’d argue that time hasn’t exactly been kind of these films of yesteryear, so much so that the moneymen have turned their interests elsewhere. Heck, I recall a time when you could sign some former TV juggernaut – say, William Shatner in the early 1970’s – bring in a storyteller schooled in trashy mediocrity – say, someone like writer/director/producer William Grefé – and somehow against all odds the magic still happened … magic that looked an awful lot like 1974’s Impulse. Such cinematic endeavors were never meant to transcend time and space. Instead, they were just intended to separate a fool from his money, leaving him just enough to purchase a drink and a small popcorn at the concession stand.
Well, the good people at Grindhouse Releasing – on an Impulse – have decided to bring Impulse back for today’s discerning viewers with an incredible assortment of extras. As imperfect as the film was (and still is), I suspect most will be drawn to this set for the expansive extras than they will the main event. Even the great William Shatner – at the absolute height of his Shatnerism – can’t quite rescue this one from obscurity no matter how hard he might try.
(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,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A paranoid, leisure-suit wearing conman/gigolo named Matt Stone seduces lonely women, bilks them of their savings via an investment scam, then kills them. When he begins seeing an attractive widow, her daughter Tina becomes suspicious of his motives.”
Kids, I don’t like to harp on films.
I know, I know, I know: many of you have read a review or two of mine, and even a few have reached out to me privately, suggesting that I was a bit too harsh on one of your personal favorites. I’ve always reminded those interested that, ultimately, each of us gets to make of any project what we will; and if your particular project wasn’t to my liking that doesn’t mean it’s inferior in any measure. It just failed to resonate with me … and “to each his own.”
But I have – most likely – watched far, far, far more flicks than the average person, mostly because I like films. I like good films. I like bad films. I like ugly films. I like expensive productions, and I have a fondness for ones that somehow squeak by with pennies on the dollar. In fact, I often spend more time talking about low budget projects to give them and those who participate in their manufacture the same kind of attention paid to tentpole releases. As I say, it’s just how I’m wired.
Being modestly familiar with the works of William Grefé – an auteur known in certain circles for completing a respectable portion of theatrical stinkery – I can also assure you that Impulse is not his best product. Granted, he may not have written the film – the script is credited Tony Crechales – but his imprimatur remains all over it. Known chiefly for his time in exploitation pictures, Grefé capably puts Shatner through his paces here, and it’s likely a walk good ol’ Bill would like to forget.
Matt Stone (Shatner) is a conman who exists solely to take advantage of women. Though the script strongly suggests this is how he gets by in life, viewers have to take that on faith as we’re only shown a single set-up involving a doomed missus who never quite sounds nor acts like she’s ‘rolling in the dough.’ But we are given a black-and-white psychological set-up involving a young boy – a young Stone played by Chad Walker – who “accidentally” kills his mother’s potential rapist; and this sequence is meant to show Stone retains a desire to commit murder when and if life starts to close in on him … which it does here at nearly every turn.
Eventually, Stone sets his sights on the wealthy widow Julia Marstow (Ruth Roman), a madame slightly smitten with his charms but not so much she wants him for her own. Instead, Julia encourages her friend Ann Moy (Jennifer Bishop) – also widowed – to spend a bit of quality time with Matt if for no other reason to start the process of healing wounds left from the loss of her husband. All of this would be well and good except Ann’s daughter, Tina (Kim Nicholas), happens to show up when Matt needs her least, namely whenever he’s involved with the commission of a bloody crime. Given that there’s seemingly no end to the man’s dastardly deeds, Tina becomes ‘the boy (girl) who cried wolf’ to both Julia and Ann as the lovely ladies just can’t accept that Matt is anything other than the most eligible bachelor around.
That said, Impulse is an irrepressibly predictable affair.
Stone can’t stop himself from behaving badly, and – as mentioned above – Tina is somehow always miraculously present to witness his dark deeds. Had either director Grefé or screenwriter Crechales taken five minutes to authentically think about their story, they might’ve realized that nothing in here develops completely on its own accord. Every next chapter in Matt’s affairs moves exactly as designed, stripping an otherwise good performance by Shatner of any true nuance. Instead, he apes and mopes and grimaces for the camera on command; Tina – in contrast – runs and screams and sounds like a snotty little girl at each opportunity. By the time the last reel rolls around, I suspect everyone involved knew exactly what was going to happen, and – lo and behold – yep … that’s what happened.
On the plus side, Bishop emerges as about as lovely a leading lady to come out of the exploitation scene as ever did. It was a reasonably short stay in the limelight, however, as her IMDB.com profile shows she only enjoyed fifteen screen roles. Granted, she wasn’t quite given much to do here but look swell and constantly challenge her spunky daughter, but who knows what could’ve been had she broken through the white noise of Drive-In theatrical stinkers and found Hollywood success.
But I have – most likely – watched far, far, far more flicks than the average person, mostly because I like films. I like good films. I like bad films. I like ugly films. I like expensive productions, and I have a fondness for ones that somehow squeak by with pennies on the dollar. In fact, I often spend more time talking about low budget projects to give them and those who participate in their manufacture the same kind of attention paid to tentpole releases. As I say, it’s just how I’m wired.
Being modestly familiar with the works of William Grefé – an auteur known in certain circles for completing a respectable portion of theatrical stinkery – I can also assure you that Impulse is not his best product. Granted, he may not have written the film – the script is credited Tony Crechales – but his imprimatur remains all over it. Known chiefly for his time in exploitation pictures, Grefé capably puts Shatner through his paces here, and it’s likely a walk good ol’ Bill would like to forget.
Matt Stone (Shatner) is a conman who exists solely to take advantage of women. Though the script strongly suggests this is how he gets by in life, viewers have to take that on faith as we’re only shown a single set-up involving a doomed missus who never quite sounds nor acts like she’s ‘rolling in the dough.’ But we are given a black-and-white psychological set-up involving a young boy – a young Stone played by Chad Walker – who “accidentally” kills his mother’s potential rapist; and this sequence is meant to show Stone retains a desire to commit murder when and if life starts to close in on him … which it does here at nearly every turn.
Eventually, Stone sets his sights on the wealthy widow Julia Marstow (Ruth Roman), a madame slightly smitten with his charms but not so much she wants him for her own. Instead, Julia encourages her friend Ann Moy (Jennifer Bishop) – also widowed – to spend a bit of quality time with Matt if for no other reason to start the process of healing wounds left from the loss of her husband. All of this would be well and good except Ann’s daughter, Tina (Kim Nicholas), happens to show up when Matt needs her least, namely whenever he’s involved with the commission of a bloody crime. Given that there’s seemingly no end to the man’s dastardly deeds, Tina becomes ‘the boy (girl) who cried wolf’ to both Julia and Ann as the lovely ladies just can’t accept that Matt is anything other than the most eligible bachelor around.
That said, Impulse is an irrepressibly predictable affair.
Stone can’t stop himself from behaving badly, and – as mentioned above – Tina is somehow always miraculously present to witness his dark deeds. Had either director Grefé or screenwriter Crechales taken five minutes to authentically think about their story, they might’ve realized that nothing in here develops completely on its own accord. Every next chapter in Matt’s affairs moves exactly as designed, stripping an otherwise good performance by Shatner of any true nuance. Instead, he apes and mopes and grimaces for the camera on command; Tina – in contrast – runs and screams and sounds like a snotty little girl at each opportunity. By the time the last reel rolls around, I suspect everyone involved knew exactly what was going to happen, and – lo and behold – yep … that’s what happened.
On the plus side, Bishop emerges as about as lovely a leading lady to come out of the exploitation scene as ever did. It was a reasonably short stay in the limelight, however, as her IMDB.com profile shows she only enjoyed fifteen screen roles. Granted, she wasn’t quite given much to do here but look swell and constantly challenge her spunky daughter, but who knows what could’ve been had she broken through the white noise of Drive-In theatrical stinkers and found Hollywood success.
Impulse (1974) was produced by Conquerer Films, Inc. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by Grindhouse Releasing. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to this 4K restoration (from rare archival elements) to be consistently good but not all that great. Yes, yes, and yes: you can see everything clearly, but there are some sequences kinda/sorta generally dull in texture. (It is what it is.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Purists will be able to spend hours with this 2-disc set, and – for clarity’s sake – I’m doing the old copy-and-paste from Bluray.com right from their product listing:
Special Features and Technical Specs:
Alas, only mildly recommended.
While I can appreciate a bit of grindhouse as much as the next person, Impulse (1974) just didn’t strike any chords or bells with me. True, it was pretty grand to see the epic Thespian William Shatner doing (I’m a diehard Trek enthusiast for over five decades, kids), but … well … that’s honestly all this one had going for it. The script relies heavily on convenience, and very little that happens in these 87 minutes felt all that organic. Also, considering that this one was reasonably light on what viewers authentically show up for in a grindhouse release (minimal violence, minimal tension, and no nudity to speak of), it just fails to light the usual vicarious fires. A creative misfire.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Grindhouse Releasing provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Impulse (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.
Special Features and Technical Specs:
- EXCLUSIVE NEW 4K RESTORATION OF THE FILM
- Provocative, in-depth interviews with director William Grefé
- KINGDOM OF THE SHATNER - William Shatner Live in Santa Monica - Oct. 9, 2022
- Additional interviews with producer and make-up artist Doug Hobart (FLESH FEAST, SCREAM BABY SCREAM) and art director Roger Carlton Sherman
- Audio commentary by William Grefé
- Haunting alternate French soundtrack
- Hours of rare cinematic treasures from the vaults of William Grefé
- Two bonus features! - THE DEVIL'S SISTERS and THE GODMOTHERS
- Glossy illustrated booklet with liner notes by acclaimed underground filmmaker Jacques Boyreau
- Beautifully embossed slipcover with new art by esteemed painter Dave Lebow
- Still galleries, trailers
Alas, only mildly recommended.
While I can appreciate a bit of grindhouse as much as the next person, Impulse (1974) just didn’t strike any chords or bells with me. True, it was pretty grand to see the epic Thespian William Shatner doing (I’m a diehard Trek enthusiast for over five decades, kids), but … well … that’s honestly all this one had going for it. The script relies heavily on convenience, and very little that happens in these 87 minutes felt all that organic. Also, considering that this one was reasonably light on what viewers authentically show up for in a grindhouse release (minimal violence, minimal tension, and no nudity to speak of), it just fails to light the usual vicarious fires. A creative misfire.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Grindhouse Releasing provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Impulse (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.
- Published on
Good morning, gentle readers, and welcome to On This Day In Science Fiction, Fantasy, And Horror History ... with your host ... me!
I kid, I kid, I kid. I'm really no host. I'm really no expert on anything. I like to do a bit of research here and there, and I do keep the blog flowing with daily tidbits to the delight of readers around the world, but ... me? A host? I kinda/sorta subscribe to that whole Woody Allen philosophy that goes a little something like this: "I'd never be a part of any organization that would have someone like me as a member!" (snicker snicker)
But, nonetheless, I'm happy to bring you the latest and greatest daily trivia blurbs from Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror; and if that keeps you coming back to this space on a regular basis to share in the joy? Well, then my job here is done. I hope it brings a smile to your face because that's my only goal.
Let me say ... what can I say about today?
Well, nothing quite yet. I'm just getting started. I did, yesterday afternoon, watch an old grindhouse-style murder thriller called Impulse. It stars genre master William Shatner as a kinda/sorta serial killer who robs rich old ladies of their money and then leaves them dead in his wake. Quite a surprise to see the ol' Shat up to such deviousness, but he did a reasonably good job in the part. I'll likely have a review up either later today or tomorrow, depending upon how my morning and afternoon shape up. I have a few errands to run, but I should squeeze in some writing time later today. Keep your eyes peeled, if you will.
I kid, I kid, I kid. I'm really no host. I'm really no expert on anything. I like to do a bit of research here and there, and I do keep the blog flowing with daily tidbits to the delight of readers around the world, but ... me? A host? I kinda/sorta subscribe to that whole Woody Allen philosophy that goes a little something like this: "I'd never be a part of any organization that would have someone like me as a member!" (snicker snicker)
But, nonetheless, I'm happy to bring you the latest and greatest daily trivia blurbs from Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror; and if that keeps you coming back to this space on a regular basis to share in the joy? Well, then my job here is done. I hope it brings a smile to your face because that's my only goal.
Let me say ... what can I say about today?
Well, nothing quite yet. I'm just getting started. I did, yesterday afternoon, watch an old grindhouse-style murder thriller called Impulse. It stars genre master William Shatner as a kinda/sorta serial killer who robs rich old ladies of their money and then leaves them dead in his wake. Quite a surprise to see the ol' Shat up to such deviousness, but he did a reasonably good job in the part. I'll likely have a review up either later today or tomorrow, depending upon how my morning and afternoon shape up. I have a few errands to run, but I should squeeze in some writing time later today. Keep your eyes peeled, if you will.
On this day all the way back in 1971, the groundbreaking SciFi/Drama The Andromeda Strain first put the face of killer viruses from Outer Space into our collective consciousness.
Directed by the great Robert Wise -- who about a decade later would helm the first Star Trek movie on the big screen -- the script emerged from the mind of the late Michael Crichton; and, yes, the project enjoyed a 1972 Hugo Award nomination in the category of 'Best Dramatic Presentation' along with a pair of Academy Awards noms (in technical categories). Its talented line-up included James Olson, Arthur Hill, David Wayne, and Kate Reid, all playing brainy scientists trying to unravel the mystery of why one off-the-beaten-track sleepy Arizona town was wiped out with the exception of two survivors ... one very old man and a crying infant.
Now ... for those of you who haven't seen it, let me give you my two cents on the matter. You can check out the citation for the flick over on IMDB.com, and you will find that it has a solid critical reputation. Yes, that's definitely earned, as The Andromeda Strain is respectably 'hard SciFi' or, at least, about as close to 'hard SciFi' that mainstream audiences expected in the early 1970's. Performances are very good, and the script is exceedingly well crafted. My issue with the flick has always been around its slow, slow, slow pacing. Wise takes his time in putting his principles through their paces, and it kinda/sorta shows in a few spots. True, science takes time, but this is a movie, after all, and I think this one could've used a clip job in a sequence or two that would've resulted in a better experience.
Again: feel free to disagree. I know that my opinion is in the minority ... and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.
Directed by the great Robert Wise -- who about a decade later would helm the first Star Trek movie on the big screen -- the script emerged from the mind of the late Michael Crichton; and, yes, the project enjoyed a 1972 Hugo Award nomination in the category of 'Best Dramatic Presentation' along with a pair of Academy Awards noms (in technical categories). Its talented line-up included James Olson, Arthur Hill, David Wayne, and Kate Reid, all playing brainy scientists trying to unravel the mystery of why one off-the-beaten-track sleepy Arizona town was wiped out with the exception of two survivors ... one very old man and a crying infant.
Now ... for those of you who haven't seen it, let me give you my two cents on the matter. You can check out the citation for the flick over on IMDB.com, and you will find that it has a solid critical reputation. Yes, that's definitely earned, as The Andromeda Strain is respectably 'hard SciFi' or, at least, about as close to 'hard SciFi' that mainstream audiences expected in the early 1970's. Performances are very good, and the script is exceedingly well crafted. My issue with the flick has always been around its slow, slow, slow pacing. Wise takes his time in putting his principles through their paces, and it kinda/sorta shows in a few spots. True, science takes time, but this is a movie, after all, and I think this one could've used a clip job in a sequence or two that would've resulted in a better experience.
Again: feel free to disagree. I know that my opinion is in the minority ... and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.
There's a small contingent of semi-regular readers who show up in my private messages from time-to-time complaining that I don't cover enough Science Fiction authors in this space. While I'll admit that's true, I've always (ALWAYS) confessed that -- unlike many who do what I do online -- I just didn't read much SciFi when I was growing up, consequently I'm just not aware of the number of writers and works as I should be. I'm always on the lookout for additions; but -- like any voluminous archive -- that takes time. So just be happy with what I've managed to squeeze in instead of harping on what I've left out.
That said, I can assure you that one of the earliest SciFi reading experiences on my youth was the 'Stainless Steel Rat' series of novels, and those, my friends, were penned by the great Harry Harrison. His isn't a name as well known as it should be, what with another one of his creations serving as the inspiration for 1973's incredible SciFi/Classic Soylent Green ... but who am I to complain? Nobody listens, after all. Sigh.
But Harrison's prose makes for some compelling visions for those seeking suggestions on one's to check out. He might not have crafted works that were as rewarded as his contemporaries, but I always thought he had a solid knack of delivering ideas and characters that were relatable within the context of their respective universes. Maybe it's safe to suggest that he was one of the writers who popularized Science Fiction and Fantasy for more mainstream-style audiences -- great concepts with a bit of wit -- and that's something our genre can always use more of.
Though he's no longer with us, Harry Harrison was born on this day back in 1925.
That said, I can assure you that one of the earliest SciFi reading experiences on my youth was the 'Stainless Steel Rat' series of novels, and those, my friends, were penned by the great Harry Harrison. His isn't a name as well known as it should be, what with another one of his creations serving as the inspiration for 1973's incredible SciFi/Classic Soylent Green ... but who am I to complain? Nobody listens, after all. Sigh.
But Harrison's prose makes for some compelling visions for those seeking suggestions on one's to check out. He might not have crafted works that were as rewarded as his contemporaries, but I always thought he had a solid knack of delivering ideas and characters that were relatable within the context of their respective universes. Maybe it's safe to suggest that he was one of the writers who popularized Science Fiction and Fantasy for more mainstream-style audiences -- great concepts with a bit of wit -- and that's something our genre can always use more of.
Though he's no longer with us, Harry Harrison was born on this day back in 1925.
Of course, it should go without saying that there's more -- there's a lot more -- and a mind-blowing 59 genre trivia citations is really only scratching the surface of the goodness in store for those of you willing to check out On This Day In Science Fiction, Fantasy, And Horror History compliments of yours truly. I have a great many new additions just waiting in the wings -- maybe I'll get a few of them up this morning -- so keep your eyes fixed on this space. There's always more to come.
In the meantime, check it all out right here ...
As always, thanks for reading ... thanks even more for sharing ... thanks for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Good morning, gentle readers, and welcome to March 11, 2024!
I know, I know, I know ... where have I been? Ach, my friends, but the wifey had a few vacation days scheduled, so we were off playing here and there. It was, actually, a very busy few days in which we crammed in some chores along with some play, some much needed distraction from the daily grind that she toils away on each and every day. So sue me. Just be thankful that I'm back and refreshed and on-the-job in this space as it were; and I'm also ready and raring to go with an incredible 52 genre trivia citations this morning to make your Monday special.
No, no, and no: I don't watch award shows. Honestly, I don't watch any of them. So, no, I really don't have anything to say about the Academy Awards. I detest how those platforms have really been coopted by folks who use them for political means, and -- as a consequence -- I tune them out. Now, this isn't to suggest in any way that those people are wrong for expressing themselves, readers: on that front, I say to each his or her own. I occasionally use my space here on SciFiHistory.Net to push an idea; I guess it's just that I don't feel I browbeat anyone into submission on any topic. I mention it, and then I move along. I do think that a bit of moderation could be exercised by the wealthy elitists in Hollywood, but that's probably an argument for another day.
As for ... Dune: Part 2?
Well, I tried to temper expectations, folks. While it's done respectable box office to date, it certainly doesn't appear to be on track for the "predicted" one billion dollars in ticket sales that some in our field of expertise had said "possible." (There is some chitchat in certain corners of fandom that suggests the film has failed to deliver on its potential or something like that.) As I've always said regarding the franchise, Dune is not mainstream Science Fiction and Fantasy. It will never achieve the heights that Star Wars has, no matter how many times diehard enthusiasts proclaim its greatness. (And, yes, it is great, but it's also a niche property with very, very, very little mainstream interest.) Besides, I reviewed the flick right here, and I think I said as such. Anyone who suggested that Villenueve was going to be the Second Coming of George Lucas was likely speaking from their own perspective and not with the lessons of history in mind. It just is what it is.
I know, I know, I know ... where have I been? Ach, my friends, but the wifey had a few vacation days scheduled, so we were off playing here and there. It was, actually, a very busy few days in which we crammed in some chores along with some play, some much needed distraction from the daily grind that she toils away on each and every day. So sue me. Just be thankful that I'm back and refreshed and on-the-job in this space as it were; and I'm also ready and raring to go with an incredible 52 genre trivia citations this morning to make your Monday special.
No, no, and no: I don't watch award shows. Honestly, I don't watch any of them. So, no, I really don't have anything to say about the Academy Awards. I detest how those platforms have really been coopted by folks who use them for political means, and -- as a consequence -- I tune them out. Now, this isn't to suggest in any way that those people are wrong for expressing themselves, readers: on that front, I say to each his or her own. I occasionally use my space here on SciFiHistory.Net to push an idea; I guess it's just that I don't feel I browbeat anyone into submission on any topic. I mention it, and then I move along. I do think that a bit of moderation could be exercised by the wealthy elitists in Hollywood, but that's probably an argument for another day.
As for ... Dune: Part 2?
Well, I tried to temper expectations, folks. While it's done respectable box office to date, it certainly doesn't appear to be on track for the "predicted" one billion dollars in ticket sales that some in our field of expertise had said "possible." (There is some chitchat in certain corners of fandom that suggests the film has failed to deliver on its potential or something like that.) As I've always said regarding the franchise, Dune is not mainstream Science Fiction and Fantasy. It will never achieve the heights that Star Wars has, no matter how many times diehard enthusiasts proclaim its greatness. (And, yes, it is great, but it's also a niche property with very, very, very little mainstream interest.) Besides, I reviewed the flick right here, and I think I said as such. Anyone who suggested that Villenueve was going to be the Second Coming of George Lucas was likely speaking from their own perspective and not with the lessons of history in mind. It just is what it is.
Speaking of George Lucas (see above) ...
Those of you who don't know, the talented auteur had actually already kinda/sorta somewhat established himself in the realms of the Fantastic with his 1971 flick, THX 1138. (Kiddies, don't run out and watch it thinking that it's anything remotely resembling Star Wars: it's social Science Fiction, and -- as such -- it is a bit harder to relate to.) It was first released theatrically on this day all the way back in 1971, and it gave audiences a look into a rather harsh tomorrow, one ruled by drugs and Dystopia. It starred Robert Duvall, Donald Pleasence, Don Pedro Colley, Maggie McOmie, and genre regular Sid Haig.
Here's the plot summary provided by our good friends at IMDB.com:
"In the 25th century, a time when people have designations instead of names, a man, THX 1138, and a woman, LUH 3417, rebel against their rigidly controlled society."
Any time I've discussed Lucas with others, I get asked my opinion of the film; and, frankly, I really don't have one. (I know, I know, I know: that ain't fair.) I guess my take on it is that it resembles a lot of classic SciFi works so closely that I've not yet quite formed an assessment of it that I feel worth mentioning ... and, yes, that's really on me more than it is anyone else. Thematically, it keeps with the theatrical trends of Science Fiction of its day -- late 60's and early 70's stuff was reasonably dark -- but ... other than that? Meh. I'm just not strongly moved by it, certainly not enough to think about it in any great estimation. Interesting but still a bit detached.
Maybe I'll someday tackle it in a full review, but for now? That's really all I've got to say about that.
Those of you who don't know, the talented auteur had actually already kinda/sorta somewhat established himself in the realms of the Fantastic with his 1971 flick, THX 1138. (Kiddies, don't run out and watch it thinking that it's anything remotely resembling Star Wars: it's social Science Fiction, and -- as such -- it is a bit harder to relate to.) It was first released theatrically on this day all the way back in 1971, and it gave audiences a look into a rather harsh tomorrow, one ruled by drugs and Dystopia. It starred Robert Duvall, Donald Pleasence, Don Pedro Colley, Maggie McOmie, and genre regular Sid Haig.
Here's the plot summary provided by our good friends at IMDB.com:
"In the 25th century, a time when people have designations instead of names, a man, THX 1138, and a woman, LUH 3417, rebel against their rigidly controlled society."
Any time I've discussed Lucas with others, I get asked my opinion of the film; and, frankly, I really don't have one. (I know, I know, I know: that ain't fair.) I guess my take on it is that it resembles a lot of classic SciFi works so closely that I've not yet quite formed an assessment of it that I feel worth mentioning ... and, yes, that's really on me more than it is anyone else. Thematically, it keeps with the theatrical trends of Science Fiction of its day -- late 60's and early 70's stuff was reasonably dark -- but ... other than that? Meh. I'm just not strongly moved by it, certainly not enough to think about it in any great estimation. Interesting but still a bit detached.
Maybe I'll someday tackle it in a full review, but for now? That's really all I've got to say about that.
And just like that you've reached the part of this daily experiment wherein I tell you that there's more -- a lot more -- awaiting your very own deep dive on the Daily Citation Page for March 11. So don't delay ... head on over to that space so that you can begin your journey into Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror like no other ...
As always, thank you for reading ... thank you for sharing ... thank you for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Folks, I often have to remind readers that in all of the wide, wide Internet I might be the very last person who actually enjoys found footage films.
Now, let me clarify: this isn’t to say that I love each and every one of them. I can assure you that there have been a great many stinkers that have tried to take whatever advantage they could find of this particular storytelling format, so please don’t confuse my affection for them with unsubstantiated or unearned praise. Honestly, I think it’s that to me found footage kinda/sorta represents a unique subset of flicks that tend to more often than not be made on-the-cheap by folks who really want to spin some yarn with a bit of a twist. These folks tend to demonstrate that last wave of battle-hardened auteurs who’ll stop at nothing to compose a film against the odds, so – yes – I do tend to give them a bit of leeway if for no other reason than I like to see what they can come up with. The flicks don’t always work … but they’re definitely tried, and I think that alone warrants someone somewhere giving them serious consideration.
If that’s me? Well, so be it.
In any event, 2023’s Frogman successfully taps into the subset by taking on the case of an urban legend: this half-man-half-frog critter has resulted in the town of Loveland crafting their own cottage industry surrounding his legend, and – as tends to happen in these stories -- a small team of interested parties set out on the mission to expose it for what it is or lose themselves in the process. Of course, this kind of thing has been done before – it’s practically the core foundation to the bulk of found footage films – but creators Anthony Cousins and John Karsko did put in a bit more thought into their characters and the script, giving those of us who like three dimensions a little something extra to watch along the way. Their commentary proves that effective relationships might ultimately be as elusive as some of our world’s greatest cryptids, but that shouldn’t stop anyone from trying to capture them either on film or in our own experience.
(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 …)
Now, let me clarify: this isn’t to say that I love each and every one of them. I can assure you that there have been a great many stinkers that have tried to take whatever advantage they could find of this particular storytelling format, so please don’t confuse my affection for them with unsubstantiated or unearned praise. Honestly, I think it’s that to me found footage kinda/sorta represents a unique subset of flicks that tend to more often than not be made on-the-cheap by folks who really want to spin some yarn with a bit of a twist. These folks tend to demonstrate that last wave of battle-hardened auteurs who’ll stop at nothing to compose a film against the odds, so – yes – I do tend to give them a bit of leeway if for no other reason than I like to see what they can come up with. The flicks don’t always work … but they’re definitely tried, and I think that alone warrants someone somewhere giving them serious consideration.
If that’s me? Well, so be it.
In any event, 2023’s Frogman successfully taps into the subset by taking on the case of an urban legend: this half-man-half-frog critter has resulted in the town of Loveland crafting their own cottage industry surrounding his legend, and – as tends to happen in these stories -- a small team of interested parties set out on the mission to expose it for what it is or lose themselves in the process. Of course, this kind of thing has been done before – it’s practically the core foundation to the bulk of found footage films – but creators Anthony Cousins and John Karsko did put in a bit more thought into their characters and the script, giving those of us who like three dimensions a little something extra to watch along the way. Their commentary proves that effective relationships might ultimately be as elusive as some of our world’s greatest cryptids, but that shouldn’t stop anyone from trying to capture them either on film or in our own experience.
(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:
“Three friends in search of the Loveland Frogman find out that he is more than just a local legend.”
Dirty little secret time, my friends: yes, I’m a firm believer in the statement that “the truth is out there.”
Yes, I love a global conspiracy as much as the next knucklehead. Unexplained phenomena have been something I’ve followed closely since the 1970’s when things like UFOs, spontaneous human combustion, haunted houses, and Bigfoot pretty much emerged into our collective consciousness. While so many in the mainstream press and middle America tend to dismiss such stories as a bunch of hokum, I’ve instead invested time, effort, and money in books pulling back the veneer of the ordinary in hopes of coming to my own terms with the extraordinary: monsters may not live and breathe on every streetcorner around the world, and yet I’m willing to embrace the possibility that there are corners and pockets in small places that serve up a glimpse at things defying conventional explanations.
So, yes, things like the Mothman intrigue me without end, and a little film dabbling with something called Frogman (2023) would naturally tweak my interest.
For those who might’ve missed it, the Loveland (Ohio) Frogman is a legend that dates back to the 1950’s; so storytellers Cousins and Karsko aren’t exactly making things up out of whole cloth. While they might tinker with some of the mythology a bit – from what I’ve read online, the creature has never quite been described as being so much man-sized as it has been large-kid-sized – this is still a fable grounded in eyewitness accounts. Believe it or not, there are those who’ve seen such a thing, making the myth something worthy of the extra light Cousins and Karsko shine on it, albeit briefly in their film of relationships as flawed as might be the stuff of an old wives’ tale.
At one time they were the best of friends, but then life happened for ex-film school chums Dallas (Nathan Tymoshuk), Scotty (Benny Barrett), and Amy (Chelsey Grant). But when a bon voyage party for Amy – who’s departing for the bright lights and the big cities of California to pursue her Hollywood dream even further – brings the gang back together, it presents Dallas with one more chance to appeal to his friends: come with him to Loveland for one last road trip to capture footage of the indefinable Frogman, something he knows he saw in his youth (on a family vacation) and has never been able live without ever since. Putting the legend to bed – meaning proving or disproving its existence – might give him the peace his life has never had, and who better to do it with than his two besties?
“Three friends in search of the Loveland Frogman find out that he is more than just a local legend.”
Dirty little secret time, my friends: yes, I’m a firm believer in the statement that “the truth is out there.”
Yes, I love a global conspiracy as much as the next knucklehead. Unexplained phenomena have been something I’ve followed closely since the 1970’s when things like UFOs, spontaneous human combustion, haunted houses, and Bigfoot pretty much emerged into our collective consciousness. While so many in the mainstream press and middle America tend to dismiss such stories as a bunch of hokum, I’ve instead invested time, effort, and money in books pulling back the veneer of the ordinary in hopes of coming to my own terms with the extraordinary: monsters may not live and breathe on every streetcorner around the world, and yet I’m willing to embrace the possibility that there are corners and pockets in small places that serve up a glimpse at things defying conventional explanations.
So, yes, things like the Mothman intrigue me without end, and a little film dabbling with something called Frogman (2023) would naturally tweak my interest.
For those who might’ve missed it, the Loveland (Ohio) Frogman is a legend that dates back to the 1950’s; so storytellers Cousins and Karsko aren’t exactly making things up out of whole cloth. While they might tinker with some of the mythology a bit – from what I’ve read online, the creature has never quite been described as being so much man-sized as it has been large-kid-sized – this is still a fable grounded in eyewitness accounts. Believe it or not, there are those who’ve seen such a thing, making the myth something worthy of the extra light Cousins and Karsko shine on it, albeit briefly in their film of relationships as flawed as might be the stuff of an old wives’ tale.
At one time they were the best of friends, but then life happened for ex-film school chums Dallas (Nathan Tymoshuk), Scotty (Benny Barrett), and Amy (Chelsey Grant). But when a bon voyage party for Amy – who’s departing for the bright lights and the big cities of California to pursue her Hollywood dream even further – brings the gang back together, it presents Dallas with one more chance to appeal to his friends: come with him to Loveland for one last road trip to capture footage of the indefinable Frogman, something he knows he saw in his youth (on a family vacation) and has never been able live without ever since. Putting the legend to bed – meaning proving or disproving its existence – might give him the peace his life has never had, and who better to do it with than his two besties?
As the film unspools, however, it becomes clear that the young filmmaker’s inability to separate fact from fiction has put a toll on all of his relationships. Dallas has been unable to maintain positive connections with anyone; and – for reasons that are never quite hammered into perfect shape in the wayward script – he seemingly ties his shortcomings to that seminal experience of seeing “something” in the woods outside of Loveland. Much like Captain Ahab and his maniacal quest for Moby Dick, Dallas chooses to live his life pursuing a topic most dismiss as beneath consideration; so it becomes only natural to see that he’d tie so much of his self-worth to returning to that place of legend and proving that the fabled amphibian lives, hops, and breathes in offroad Ohio. Such closure is necessary for achieving his dreams, thus giving his willingness to sacrifice those who care for him most his Achilles’ Heel in the process.
Plus, this kind of devotion is what makes most found footage films truly tick like a well-wound clock. There’s almost always a central legend, and such a foundation practically requires misfit souls who’ll stop at nothing to show the world they’ve been wrong for so many years. It’s only when these forces collide that the drama of the ensemble’s shared circumstances takes center stage; and – in that respect – Frogman is, arguably, a bit better than most attempts. Dallas, Scotty, and Amy may’ve been seen before – there’s nothing new under the sun – but audiences still root for them, especially when they’re stacked up against forces they can neither control nor anticipate.
To their credit, Cousins and Karsko give their thrill ride one additional layer for complexity’s sake: Dallas and Amy enjoyed a one-night-stand that obviously meant more to them than either is willing to admit. As the perennial ‘third wheel,’ Scotty knows and sees all – he’s the only one with enough awareness to understand the two were and remain in love with one another – but his respect for their separate affairs of the heart keeps him from pushing them together, choosing instead to nudge each of them privately in the right direction. He’s no Cupid, mind you, and yet he perseveres to matchmake them as politely as he can, perhaps secretly knowing it’ll never come to fruition.
It goes without saying that Frogman contains all the good, bad, and ugly elements that go hand-in-hand with found footage. Yes, there’s more than a fair share of jerky camera work – tons of it rendered just slightly out-of-focus and at the customarily bizarre camera angles – and there’s a scene or two with some post-production effects trickery that makes it even harder to discern a footprint from any other hole in the ground. Also, this one isn’t fully ‘found footage’ authentic as the story as presented does end up being edited together in a few spots in order to weave this spell the way filmmakers did. I dare suggest that perhaps this story would’ve been vastly better if it had been captured as a more conventional procedural – there’s definitely enough story to have made it work that way – but that’s the kind of Monday Morning Quarterbacking that amounts to much of nothing at this stage of the game. I throw it out because I think it could’ve made for a more universally accepted feature than found footage stuff ever gets.
Plus, this kind of devotion is what makes most found footage films truly tick like a well-wound clock. There’s almost always a central legend, and such a foundation practically requires misfit souls who’ll stop at nothing to show the world they’ve been wrong for so many years. It’s only when these forces collide that the drama of the ensemble’s shared circumstances takes center stage; and – in that respect – Frogman is, arguably, a bit better than most attempts. Dallas, Scotty, and Amy may’ve been seen before – there’s nothing new under the sun – but audiences still root for them, especially when they’re stacked up against forces they can neither control nor anticipate.
To their credit, Cousins and Karsko give their thrill ride one additional layer for complexity’s sake: Dallas and Amy enjoyed a one-night-stand that obviously meant more to them than either is willing to admit. As the perennial ‘third wheel,’ Scotty knows and sees all – he’s the only one with enough awareness to understand the two were and remain in love with one another – but his respect for their separate affairs of the heart keeps him from pushing them together, choosing instead to nudge each of them privately in the right direction. He’s no Cupid, mind you, and yet he perseveres to matchmake them as politely as he can, perhaps secretly knowing it’ll never come to fruition.
It goes without saying that Frogman contains all the good, bad, and ugly elements that go hand-in-hand with found footage. Yes, there’s more than a fair share of jerky camera work – tons of it rendered just slightly out-of-focus and at the customarily bizarre camera angles – and there’s a scene or two with some post-production effects trickery that makes it even harder to discern a footprint from any other hole in the ground. Also, this one isn’t fully ‘found footage’ authentic as the story as presented does end up being edited together in a few spots in order to weave this spell the way filmmakers did. I dare suggest that perhaps this story would’ve been vastly better if it had been captured as a more conventional procedural – there’s definitely enough story to have made it work that way – but that’s the kind of Monday Morning Quarterbacking that amounts to much of nothing at this stage of the game. I throw it out because I think it could’ve made for a more universally accepted feature than found footage stuff ever gets.
Also, the script tries a bit too hard to give Frogman a wider and even more conspiratorial mythology; and I’m not entirely certain all of that works as well as intended. Without spoiling the pot, let’s just say that the locals are hiding their various dark sides despite building a whole cottage industry on the Frogman’s back; and – yes – it kinda/sorta feels hokier than the toad’s existence. Still, cults have their time and place in filmdom; and I suspect those showing up to celebrate Horror’s most basic elements might have a bit of fun knowing that middle Americans see nothing wrong with worshipping anything different than the norm. Indeed, stranger things have happened.
Frogman (2023) was produced by Feral Child Films, Rotting Press, and Shock Treatment Productions. Based on the press materials I’ve received, the film is presently available for purchase on physical media or digitally across a variety of platforms. As for the technical specifications? Well … look … while I’m no trained video expert, I’m comfortable saying that the kinda/sorta primitive presentation aspects of ‘found footage films’ is controversial with audiences because of its low resolution framework … so consider yourself warned. (Again: I’m OK with it, so there’s that.) Lastly, as I considered this one via streaming? There were no special features under review.
Recommended.
As a fan of found footage stories, I had more fun than I honestly expected with Frogman (2023), and I think that’s because there was a bit more to the characters than what one generally gets with the format. Indeed, Dallas ultimately loses more than he ever gains from achieving his dream of being a celebrated filmmaker (at least, that’s my takeaway from the closing scenes); and rarely do found footage flicks even hint at such depth. Traditionally, they’re all about the surprises – which Frogman offers – but I’m thankful that this ensemble delivered a bit more. If the truth is out there, then there’s nothing wrong with adding a layer of character to a journey of discovery … especially when the message is to be careful what you search for.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Rotting Press provided me with complimentary streaming access to Frogman (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
Frogman (2023) was produced by Feral Child Films, Rotting Press, and Shock Treatment Productions. Based on the press materials I’ve received, the film is presently available for purchase on physical media or digitally across a variety of platforms. As for the technical specifications? Well … look … while I’m no trained video expert, I’m comfortable saying that the kinda/sorta primitive presentation aspects of ‘found footage films’ is controversial with audiences because of its low resolution framework … so consider yourself warned. (Again: I’m OK with it, so there’s that.) Lastly, as I considered this one via streaming? There were no special features under review.
Recommended.
As a fan of found footage stories, I had more fun than I honestly expected with Frogman (2023), and I think that’s because there was a bit more to the characters than what one generally gets with the format. Indeed, Dallas ultimately loses more than he ever gains from achieving his dream of being a celebrated filmmaker (at least, that’s my takeaway from the closing scenes); and rarely do found footage flicks even hint at such depth. Traditionally, they’re all about the surprises – which Frogman offers – but I’m thankful that this ensemble delivered a bit more. If the truth is out there, then there’s nothing wrong with adding a layer of character to a journey of discovery … especially when the message is to be careful what you search for.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Rotting Press provided me with complimentary streaming access to Frogman (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
I never like to mince words on what I think of any particular film or DVD, and, under most circumstances, The Seasoning House (2012) is one of those flicks I can take or leave.
At its core, it’s a revenge picture (of sorts) where the lead character finds herself trapped in the black market of cold, cruel exploitation – sex trafficking – but, to its credit, it stylistically tries to be something a bit more: there’s the lukewarm suggestion of a kinda/sorta character study through flashbacks of how one young victim found herself forced into sexual slavery where presumably anything goes. The sad part is that, on the character front, it isn’t really all that interesting or effective. As a result, the script marginally lessens the impact of its central theme: sex without consequence doesn’t exist in this world any longer.
However, at all times, The Seasoning House is indeed brilliantly crafted, an impressive, gritty work culled together by director Paul Hyett.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or character. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last three paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Sold at a brothel deep in the woods to work as a caretaker, a hapless deaf girl must summon the courage to fight for her life.”
Angel (played with great conviction by a promising Rosie Day) is a young mute who finds herself orphaned in front of her eyes by the war-time conflict raging in her unnamed homeland. Against her will, she finds herself thrown aboard a truck and carted off to a nearby hotel, where the manager Viktor (Kevin Howarth) becomes smitten with her youthful, innocent charms. Realizing she could never survive as one of his house prostitutes, he instead takes her aboard to serve as a ‘caretaker’ to the girls, helping to make them ready for the vile sexual torture they’re about to endure (which basically amounts to shooting them up with drugs). However, Angel eventually befriends one of the captured ladies, and this forces her to re-examine her past and present while secretly plotting her future escape.
At its core, it’s a revenge picture (of sorts) where the lead character finds herself trapped in the black market of cold, cruel exploitation – sex trafficking – but, to its credit, it stylistically tries to be something a bit more: there’s the lukewarm suggestion of a kinda/sorta character study through flashbacks of how one young victim found herself forced into sexual slavery where presumably anything goes. The sad part is that, on the character front, it isn’t really all that interesting or effective. As a result, the script marginally lessens the impact of its central theme: sex without consequence doesn’t exist in this world any longer.
However, at all times, The Seasoning House is indeed brilliantly crafted, an impressive, gritty work culled together by director Paul Hyett.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or character. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last three paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Sold at a brothel deep in the woods to work as a caretaker, a hapless deaf girl must summon the courage to fight for her life.”
Angel (played with great conviction by a promising Rosie Day) is a young mute who finds herself orphaned in front of her eyes by the war-time conflict raging in her unnamed homeland. Against her will, she finds herself thrown aboard a truck and carted off to a nearby hotel, where the manager Viktor (Kevin Howarth) becomes smitten with her youthful, innocent charms. Realizing she could never survive as one of his house prostitutes, he instead takes her aboard to serve as a ‘caretaker’ to the girls, helping to make them ready for the vile sexual torture they’re about to endure (which basically amounts to shooting them up with drugs). However, Angel eventually befriends one of the captured ladies, and this forces her to re-examine her past and present while secretly plotting her future escape.
Frankly, The Seasoning House shares an awful lot of theatrical DNA with sexploitation films popularized in the late 1970’s and early 80’s where rape and revenge even made newspaper headlines. House posits a world where sex is not only used as currency but also as a violent means of personal expression for some burly, rough, uncaring men. All the women featured within are trapped in some state of perpetual victimhood while only one – Angel – has the key (literally) that could deliver freedom.
The problem?
Well, she lacks the courage to use it … until it’s almost too late.
Hyett directs from a script that he helped craft (he’s sharing credit with Conal Palmer), and therein may lie the problem with House: there’s an awful lot of ambiguity here, and it doesn’t make much literal sense. Whereas the two scribes were possibly working in concert, I felt kinda/sorta left out on the particulars that might’ve given greater definition to this particular time and place in existence, and the missing context kept me from understanding succinctly everything I felt necessary to draw me into the story.
See, there’s an overwhelming vagueness to the whole affair that kept forcing me to ask questions I couldn’t answer. These details might not have been central to the story being told, but the ongoing lack of clarity pushed me to wonder what the precise parameters of this world were. For starters, when are we? Is this the past? Is it some glimpse at a possible tomorrow? If this were stated, then I completely missed it, and I kept wanting to know. There’s part of me that suspects it could’ve been either possibility – never a good position to be in as a viewer – because the environment offers up clues for either supposition. Many of the men are soldiers who’ve apparently overrun another country, and they speak in heavy Russian accents … but, one more than one occasion, they’re shown paying Viktor in U.S. dollars. Where did they get those? Is this supposed to be America being occupied by an invading army? If so, why do the invaders speak English? Why don’t they converse in their native Russian?
Also, who in the name of Sam Hill designed this house?
One of the story’s conceits is that there’s ample crawlspaces between these rooms in order for Angel to secretly make her way about without drawing Viktor or his guard’s attention. That’s all well and good, but, by the end, one starts to wonder why there’s so much more living space behind the walls as opposed to in front of it. I understand that, to some degree, this was only intended to be a plot device; still, all plot devices need to have some grounding in logic, and this one really made me question whether a legitimate architect or builder made this house … or was it designed by a pair of screenwriters?
The problem?
Well, she lacks the courage to use it … until it’s almost too late.
Hyett directs from a script that he helped craft (he’s sharing credit with Conal Palmer), and therein may lie the problem with House: there’s an awful lot of ambiguity here, and it doesn’t make much literal sense. Whereas the two scribes were possibly working in concert, I felt kinda/sorta left out on the particulars that might’ve given greater definition to this particular time and place in existence, and the missing context kept me from understanding succinctly everything I felt necessary to draw me into the story.
See, there’s an overwhelming vagueness to the whole affair that kept forcing me to ask questions I couldn’t answer. These details might not have been central to the story being told, but the ongoing lack of clarity pushed me to wonder what the precise parameters of this world were. For starters, when are we? Is this the past? Is it some glimpse at a possible tomorrow? If this were stated, then I completely missed it, and I kept wanting to know. There’s part of me that suspects it could’ve been either possibility – never a good position to be in as a viewer – because the environment offers up clues for either supposition. Many of the men are soldiers who’ve apparently overrun another country, and they speak in heavy Russian accents … but, one more than one occasion, they’re shown paying Viktor in U.S. dollars. Where did they get those? Is this supposed to be America being occupied by an invading army? If so, why do the invaders speak English? Why don’t they converse in their native Russian?
Also, who in the name of Sam Hill designed this house?
One of the story’s conceits is that there’s ample crawlspaces between these rooms in order for Angel to secretly make her way about without drawing Viktor or his guard’s attention. That’s all well and good, but, by the end, one starts to wonder why there’s so much more living space behind the walls as opposed to in front of it. I understand that, to some degree, this was only intended to be a plot device; still, all plot devices need to have some grounding in logic, and this one really made me question whether a legitimate architect or builder made this house … or was it designed by a pair of screenwriters?
Now, I realize that some of these questions may have answers that rely on the business demands, breaking that wall into the real world outside (ours) – perhaps for purposes of ensuring the best business it was easier to avoid producing a foreign language picture. Still, because these narrative conflicts kept popping up again and again and again, they ended up screaming out and calling attention to their reality in places when they shouldn’t have. They end up ‘distracting’ when they should have been an organic part of the story, and I can’t help but wonder if this was the necessary quirks of a first-time director (House is Hyett’s debut directing gig).
What’s entirely impressive, nonetheless, is the job the director does in putting the pieces of his story together. As a thriller, it’s highly effective. There are some solid sequences that play nicely (and a bit gruesomely) into the experience. Instead of watching this one again (ever), I’d be more inclined to see what Hyett can do with a more accomplished script. Same thing for actress Day. They showed up to play, and I’d love to see what they can do with a project given ample pre-production attention.
The Seasoning House (2012) is produced by Sterling Pictures, Templeheart Films, and Filmgate Films. DVD distribution is being handled through Well Go USA Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still see that the film is sharply made, and there’s great care that’s been put into its various sights and sounds, along with some winning cinematography. As for the special features, it comes with the usual obligatory ‘making of’ short (about 15 minutes) that really doesn’t reveal all that much into the story or vision, but it’s nice to have something, isn’t it? Plus, there is the theatrical trailer.
Recommended.
It goes without saying that the subject matter of The Seasoning House (2012) is not going to be everyone’s cup of tea, and I certainly can’t blame them: I’m not entirely certain it’s even my cup of tea! The script toys with male dominance themes in this curiously under-developed or ill-defined world. Is this the future? Is this our past? Why does everyone speak with Russian accents but soldiers pay with U.S. money? How was this house constructed with more space behind its walls than in front of them? That, and there’s no characterization to speak of. What there is remains a white-knuckles-bared thriller – nothing more – so don’t expect anything else … and you’re likely to be entertained. Otherwise, it’s morally bankrupt about a morally bankrupt universe … with a downbeat ending that almost promises a follow-up (though none is needed).
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Well GO USA Entertainment provided me with a DVD copy of The Seasoning House (2012) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
What’s entirely impressive, nonetheless, is the job the director does in putting the pieces of his story together. As a thriller, it’s highly effective. There are some solid sequences that play nicely (and a bit gruesomely) into the experience. Instead of watching this one again (ever), I’d be more inclined to see what Hyett can do with a more accomplished script. Same thing for actress Day. They showed up to play, and I’d love to see what they can do with a project given ample pre-production attention.
The Seasoning House (2012) is produced by Sterling Pictures, Templeheart Films, and Filmgate Films. DVD distribution is being handled through Well Go USA Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still see that the film is sharply made, and there’s great care that’s been put into its various sights and sounds, along with some winning cinematography. As for the special features, it comes with the usual obligatory ‘making of’ short (about 15 minutes) that really doesn’t reveal all that much into the story or vision, but it’s nice to have something, isn’t it? Plus, there is the theatrical trailer.
Recommended.
It goes without saying that the subject matter of The Seasoning House (2012) is not going to be everyone’s cup of tea, and I certainly can’t blame them: I’m not entirely certain it’s even my cup of tea! The script toys with male dominance themes in this curiously under-developed or ill-defined world. Is this the future? Is this our past? Why does everyone speak with Russian accents but soldiers pay with U.S. money? How was this house constructed with more space behind its walls than in front of them? That, and there’s no characterization to speak of. What there is remains a white-knuckles-bared thriller – nothing more – so don’t expect anything else … and you’re likely to be entertained. Otherwise, it’s morally bankrupt about a morally bankrupt universe … with a downbeat ending that almost promises a follow-up (though none is needed).
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Well GO USA Entertainment provided me with a DVD copy of The Seasoning House (2012) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ