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Good morning, gentle readers, and welcome to February 6th!
How's everyone's day going this morning? Yes, yes, and yes: I realize it's early, and your day might really just be starting out, so it may be somewhat difficult to measure exactly how it's 'going,' but do try to make it one for the record books. That's something I try to do more and more in this space, highlighting everything I believe deserves highlighting, all in hopes of showing the level of appreciation I think Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror deserve. It's a tough job ... but somebody's gotta do it!
Let's get down to the business of it, though, shall we?
I spent a good portion of yesterday with a few of those home video releases I mentioned I had on tap. Two Horrors, and an old Film Noir. The straight skinny without any of the goodness (I'll reserve that for the individual reviews) is that ... well ... meh. Not a real winner in the bunch, if you're familiar with that phrase. I think each of them had something solid to offer -- all were very well made and dealt with some interesting character stuff -- but ... nah ... still no winner in the bunch. Watch this space, and you'll see what I mean with the full reviews. Otherwise, I also had to go out and get a shot -- a vaccination -- so I'm a little weary today. Kinda/sorta a bit sluggish. Nothing bad, but it'll probably keep me stuck in first gear for a few more hours. Shots and general illnesses do that to me, so I don't think it's anything to be alarmed about. It is what it is.
So ... what else have I got? Well, well, well ... I'm glad you asked.
How's everyone's day going this morning? Yes, yes, and yes: I realize it's early, and your day might really just be starting out, so it may be somewhat difficult to measure exactly how it's 'going,' but do try to make it one for the record books. That's something I try to do more and more in this space, highlighting everything I believe deserves highlighting, all in hopes of showing the level of appreciation I think Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror deserve. It's a tough job ... but somebody's gotta do it!
Let's get down to the business of it, though, shall we?
I spent a good portion of yesterday with a few of those home video releases I mentioned I had on tap. Two Horrors, and an old Film Noir. The straight skinny without any of the goodness (I'll reserve that for the individual reviews) is that ... well ... meh. Not a real winner in the bunch, if you're familiar with that phrase. I think each of them had something solid to offer -- all were very well made and dealt with some interesting character stuff -- but ... nah ... still no winner in the bunch. Watch this space, and you'll see what I mean with the full reviews. Otherwise, I also had to go out and get a shot -- a vaccination -- so I'm a little weary today. Kinda/sorta a bit sluggish. Nothing bad, but it'll probably keep me stuck in first gear for a few more hours. Shots and general illnesses do that to me, so I don't think it's anything to be alarmed about. It is what it is.
So ... what else have I got? Well, well, well ... I'm glad you asked.
The warmest and the fuzziest birthday wishes are extended to actress Alice Eve, the lady who rather famously appears in the God-awful sequel -- Star Trek Into Darkness (2013) -- but also does so in her skivvies ... for absolutely no reason at all!
Now, I have read that the actress doesn't understand why this scene was controversial in the slightest. In an interview, she stated that she went to an incredible amount of work getting in shape for this appearance; and to me that indicates fully that she was on-board with baring a goodly portion of what the Good Lord gave her thinking this was -- cough cough -- pitch perfect for the Star Trek Cinematic Universe under the stewardship of -- cough cough -- wunkderkind and puzzle box fanatacist JJ Abrams. Don't get me wrong: I'm all in favor of women showing up as scantilly clad as they like, but -- when it comes to storytelling -- there really ought to be some authentic reason for such an unveiling to be there in the script. For my take, there just wasn't here -- she's clothed, and then the next minute she's not, and she's chastising James T. Kirk for taking a second to ogle her (as did many in the audience) -- and, sorry to say, it's just tonally flat and ... well ... stupid.
At the end of the day, I think anyone with a decent brain understands just how awful Into Darkness was, especially incoherent in that it tried to upend a whole bucket of established Trek mythology; but -- ahem -- this is what accounts for good storytelling in the mind of -- you guessed it -- JJ and his ilk. They're currently decimated a good deal of the franchise on Paramount+, and I think many of us older fans suggested the Intellectual Property was, indeed, heading down dark corridors if Into Darkness was any indication.
Look: I don't fault Alice here for this in the slightest. As I said, she's on record as thinking this scene was a necessary component of the story as written. While that does tell me something about -- cough cough -- Alice's intellect, she's still an actress hired to do and say certain things, so more power to her. I also listened to her at a convention kinda/sorta imply that Trek fandom was a bit racist for not embracing Benedict Cumberbatch in the role of Khan Noonien Singh, but I won't even begin to 'go there' as each of us are entitled to our opinions on such matters. Let's just wish her our best -- especially on her birthday -- and hope she has one of the grandest days of human record.
Now, I have read that the actress doesn't understand why this scene was controversial in the slightest. In an interview, she stated that she went to an incredible amount of work getting in shape for this appearance; and to me that indicates fully that she was on-board with baring a goodly portion of what the Good Lord gave her thinking this was -- cough cough -- pitch perfect for the Star Trek Cinematic Universe under the stewardship of -- cough cough -- wunkderkind and puzzle box fanatacist JJ Abrams. Don't get me wrong: I'm all in favor of women showing up as scantilly clad as they like, but -- when it comes to storytelling -- there really ought to be some authentic reason for such an unveiling to be there in the script. For my take, there just wasn't here -- she's clothed, and then the next minute she's not, and she's chastising James T. Kirk for taking a second to ogle her (as did many in the audience) -- and, sorry to say, it's just tonally flat and ... well ... stupid.
At the end of the day, I think anyone with a decent brain understands just how awful Into Darkness was, especially incoherent in that it tried to upend a whole bucket of established Trek mythology; but -- ahem -- this is what accounts for good storytelling in the mind of -- you guessed it -- JJ and his ilk. They're currently decimated a good deal of the franchise on Paramount+, and I think many of us older fans suggested the Intellectual Property was, indeed, heading down dark corridors if Into Darkness was any indication.
Look: I don't fault Alice here for this in the slightest. As I said, she's on record as thinking this scene was a necessary component of the story as written. While that does tell me something about -- cough cough -- Alice's intellect, she's still an actress hired to do and say certain things, so more power to her. I also listened to her at a convention kinda/sorta imply that Trek fandom was a bit racist for not embracing Benedict Cumberbatch in the role of Khan Noonien Singh, but I won't even begin to 'go there' as each of us are entitled to our opinions on such matters. Let's just wish her our best -- especially on her birthday -- and hope she has one of the grandest days of human record.
On this day all the way back in 1998, Stargate: SG-1 aired "Solitudes," a rather solid entry into the growing mythology of that Intellectual Property.
I know, I know, I know: those of you who are regular readers might be thinking right now, "What a minute! Isn't this guy who runs SciFiHistory.Net on record as saying he's not all that fond of the whole Stargate thing?" Yes, yes, and yes: that's true. I'd never argue otherwise. But -- as I always caution -- that doesn't mean I haven't watched it and found some of it quite good. In fact, of everything I experienced in the show's first season, this hour was really one of my favorites.
Officially, this was the seventeenth episode in the long-running program's first season; and here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
"Following a Stargate technical defect, O'Neill and Carter are stranded next to a Stargate in a cave on an icy wasteland. O'Neill is severely wounded and both are freezing. Will the SGC find and rescue them in time?"
In case you're wondering, I liked the adventure because it really finally gave Richard Dean Anderson and Amanda Tapping the chance to show us their respective acting chops in the franchise. This wasn't a yarn about running around, shooting, or any kind of high stakes action set pieces. This was a story of human survival against the elements; and -- at the same time -- Brad Wright's script really tried to expand the playing field surrounding the whole mystery of these stargates. While others might dismiss it as being a bit too routine a procedural, I found it stirring and brilliant at the same time.
Well done, Stargate! Well done!
I know, I know, I know: those of you who are regular readers might be thinking right now, "What a minute! Isn't this guy who runs SciFiHistory.Net on record as saying he's not all that fond of the whole Stargate thing?" Yes, yes, and yes: that's true. I'd never argue otherwise. But -- as I always caution -- that doesn't mean I haven't watched it and found some of it quite good. In fact, of everything I experienced in the show's first season, this hour was really one of my favorites.
Officially, this was the seventeenth episode in the long-running program's first season; and here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
"Following a Stargate technical defect, O'Neill and Carter are stranded next to a Stargate in a cave on an icy wasteland. O'Neill is severely wounded and both are freezing. Will the SGC find and rescue them in time?"
In case you're wondering, I liked the adventure because it really finally gave Richard Dean Anderson and Amanda Tapping the chance to show us their respective acting chops in the franchise. This wasn't a yarn about running around, shooting, or any kind of high stakes action set pieces. This was a story of human survival against the elements; and -- at the same time -- Brad Wright's script really tried to expand the playing field surrounding the whole mystery of these stargates. While others might dismiss it as being a bit too routine a procedural, I found it stirring and brilliant at the same time.
Well done, Stargate! Well done!
When I think about Zardoz -- a Science Fiction and Fantasy film with a heavy dose of social commentary that was first released fifty years ago today -- I stumble across that immortal snippet of dialogue (not from this film) that kinda/sorta encapsulates everyone's take on it: "I saw your film, man, and I loved it. What was it about?"
I say this because I'm not sure anyone has ever really made perfect sense of the world as depicted on the silver screen by John Boorman. Clearly, I'd insist that he was trying to say something about the world-at-large in here -- something about the human necessity to rise about against our oppressors and throw off the chains they've used to bind us for so long -- but the message gets truly lost along the way through more theatrical malarkey that you can throw a stick at. At times, it just seems like an endless parade of images all loosely connected with a light premise; and whatever lesson I'm supposed to glean from its madness just falls into chaos.
Still, the 1975 Hugo Awards recognized the motion picture with a nomination in their category of 'Best Dramatic Presentation' ... so what do I know?
I say this because I'm not sure anyone has ever really made perfect sense of the world as depicted on the silver screen by John Boorman. Clearly, I'd insist that he was trying to say something about the world-at-large in here -- something about the human necessity to rise about against our oppressors and throw off the chains they've used to bind us for so long -- but the message gets truly lost along the way through more theatrical malarkey that you can throw a stick at. At times, it just seems like an endless parade of images all loosely connected with a light premise; and whatever lesson I'm supposed to glean from its madness just falls into chaos.
Still, the 1975 Hugo Awards recognized the motion picture with a nomination in their category of 'Best Dramatic Presentation' ... so what do I know?
Naturally, there's more -- a pretty solid amount more -- over on February 6th's Daily Citation Page; and this is the point in our exchange wherein I encourage you folks to head on over there to check out all of the madness -- just plain madness -- for the sake of bringing you up to speed on the day. Here's the happy link ...
As always, thanks for reading ... thanks for sharing ... thanks for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Good morning, gentle readers! Welcome back to yet another case of 'The Mondays!'
Woof! Am I right?
Ah, come on ... it's not that bad. Another Monday -- after all -- means the start to another great week of genre-specific trivia, and that can't be a bad thing. It's good to always find something new to celebrate ... maybe find out a bit more about a cherished celebrity or a forgotten movie ... and join in with the effort to bring the past alive ... especially as it relates to all of the smilers who helped to make the worlds of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror as powerful as they've become with their work in the days gone by. That's my story, anyway, and I'm sticking to it! I'm still thrilled to have all of you along for the ride!
How was the weekend, you ask? Well, thank you very much! It was busy. Uncharacteristically busy. The wifey and I enjoyed a great burger and gymnastics meet on Friday night, and then we busied ourselves with experiencing the unbridled joys of High School speech and debate on Saturday. (One of my volunteer gigs is helping to coach some of these youngsters, so it's so damn refreshing to see so much talent in our future leaders. Mind you: I don't always agree with their political opinions or their dramatic choices, but it's still really refreshing to see what they can do when they put their minds to it.) Sunday? Ah, that was a lazy day, because we'd earned it.
As for this week, I have a short stack of new physical media that's been sent to me from distributors, and I really have to dig into them. There are some great genre titles in there, so if I were you I'd keep watching this space as the reviews should be flowing in print form very, very, very soon. While I may have a small medical appointment this afternoon, the day will otherwise likely be spent in front of the glare of the TV set. It's a hard-knock life, but somebody's gotta do it.
Woof! Am I right?
Ah, come on ... it's not that bad. Another Monday -- after all -- means the start to another great week of genre-specific trivia, and that can't be a bad thing. It's good to always find something new to celebrate ... maybe find out a bit more about a cherished celebrity or a forgotten movie ... and join in with the effort to bring the past alive ... especially as it relates to all of the smilers who helped to make the worlds of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror as powerful as they've become with their work in the days gone by. That's my story, anyway, and I'm sticking to it! I'm still thrilled to have all of you along for the ride!
How was the weekend, you ask? Well, thank you very much! It was busy. Uncharacteristically busy. The wifey and I enjoyed a great burger and gymnastics meet on Friday night, and then we busied ourselves with experiencing the unbridled joys of High School speech and debate on Saturday. (One of my volunteer gigs is helping to coach some of these youngsters, so it's so damn refreshing to see so much talent in our future leaders. Mind you: I don't always agree with their political opinions or their dramatic choices, but it's still really refreshing to see what they can do when they put their minds to it.) Sunday? Ah, that was a lazy day, because we'd earned it.
As for this week, I have a short stack of new physical media that's been sent to me from distributors, and I really have to dig into them. There are some great genre titles in there, so if I were you I'd keep watching this space as the reviews should be flowing in print form very, very, very soon. While I may have a small medical appointment this afternoon, the day will otherwise likely be spent in front of the glare of the TV set. It's a hard-knock life, but somebody's gotta do it.
I've mentioned somewhere on this great mountain of trivia that I was slow to love the very first Alien (1979) film.
Now, don't get me wrong: I saw it for extremely high quality storytelling right out of the gate, but I had some minor issues with the story. As one who typically hasn't much cared for the traditional locked box yarn (mostly because they're so predictable), I came out of wishing for a few more twists and turns, maybe a bit more depth added to the whole Xenomorph background. Critters and creatures that get no historical perspective in a story -- or, at the very least, some explanation of who they are and where they came from -- end up falling a bit flat with me for the simple fact that I like answers. So the script -- while great in some ways -- just brushed over a bit too much, outright ignoring the kinds of things I like to know about a new species. Naturally, it didn't quite sit well with Yours Truly, so I was kinda/sorta split on it.
Still, there was nothing else on film before -- to my limited knowledge at the time -- that had ever looked like the fabled Xenomorph. It was truly an inspired look at something vastly different that had come before ... so all genre fans most definitely owe a debt of gratitude to its designer, the late H.R. Giger. Without this man's astonishing grasp of the scariest damn visions ever adapted to celluloid, all of that original film just wouldn't have worked as well as it did. That alone is one astonishing legacy; and, yes, he deserved the Academy Award (he shares with others) in 1980 for bringing such a unique and disturbing vision to life.
So ... wherever you are, Mr. Giger, Happy Birthday from all of us!
Now, don't get me wrong: I saw it for extremely high quality storytelling right out of the gate, but I had some minor issues with the story. As one who typically hasn't much cared for the traditional locked box yarn (mostly because they're so predictable), I came out of wishing for a few more twists and turns, maybe a bit more depth added to the whole Xenomorph background. Critters and creatures that get no historical perspective in a story -- or, at the very least, some explanation of who they are and where they came from -- end up falling a bit flat with me for the simple fact that I like answers. So the script -- while great in some ways -- just brushed over a bit too much, outright ignoring the kinds of things I like to know about a new species. Naturally, it didn't quite sit well with Yours Truly, so I was kinda/sorta split on it.
Still, there was nothing else on film before -- to my limited knowledge at the time -- that had ever looked like the fabled Xenomorph. It was truly an inspired look at something vastly different that had come before ... so all genre fans most definitely owe a debt of gratitude to its designer, the late H.R. Giger. Without this man's astonishing grasp of the scariest damn visions ever adapted to celluloid, all of that original film just wouldn't have worked as well as it did. That alone is one astonishing legacy; and, yes, he deserved the Academy Award (he shares with others) in 1980 for bringing such a unique and disturbing vision to life.
So ... wherever you are, Mr. Giger, Happy Birthday from all of us!
Egads, folks! If I had a nickle for every time some knucklehead on the other side of a web browser showed up in my space trying to tell me what is and what isn't Science Fiction or Fantasy or Horror, then I'd be a very, very, very wealthy man. But, yes, I consider Blue Thunder to -- first and foremost -- be an Action flick, but because its central story -- that of cutting-edge technology applied to a start of the art flying helicopter -- utilizes the elements of Science Fiction, it gets featured in this space.
Tough boobies, my friend, if you think otherwise.
I've no problem confessing this is one of my soft spots when it comes to film. Blue Thunder -- as brought to the screen by director John Badham -- is blazingly near perfect in showcasing the sentiments of what can possible go wrong with technology put into the wrong hands, and Roy Scheider as veteran police chopper pilot 'Murphy' is perfectly cast as the guy who'll break every conceivable rule if it means he'll get the job done right. Fabulous story. Fabulous pacing. And a fabulous message for its time. Those of you who haven't seen it have no idea what theatrical joy you're missing, so I'll encourage you to seek it out with no delay.
The film first premiered on this day all the way back in 1983; and, yes, it still looks good decades later.
Tough boobies, my friend, if you think otherwise.
I've no problem confessing this is one of my soft spots when it comes to film. Blue Thunder -- as brought to the screen by director John Badham -- is blazingly near perfect in showcasing the sentiments of what can possible go wrong with technology put into the wrong hands, and Roy Scheider as veteran police chopper pilot 'Murphy' is perfectly cast as the guy who'll break every conceivable rule if it means he'll get the job done right. Fabulous story. Fabulous pacing. And a fabulous message for its time. Those of you who haven't seen it have no idea what theatrical joy you're missing, so I'll encourage you to seek it out with no delay.
The film first premiered on this day all the way back in 1983; and, yes, it still looks good decades later.
Holy Mother of Dragons ... can we all just give a shout of praise to the works of Bruce Timm today?
This man achieved some genius-level storytelling especially as such acclaim applies to the world of DC Comics. He was tasked with bringing the seminal avenger of Batman to life on the small screen with Batman: The Animated Series; and -- in the process -- the result likely grew Batfandom to incredible lengths. Such epic storytelling brought an untold number of new fans to the BatUniverse; and the fact that he was pretty much given the reins to do more -- Superman: The Animated Series, Batman Beyond, and Justice League -- shows that the powers that be saw what he was doing, liked it, and demanded more. His is a talent I truly wish was in charge of the DC Cinematic Universe -- I said as much online for some time -- but, alas, it wasn't meant to be. He may not have been the perfect choice, what with his background being animation, but I would've loved to see what he could do with a live action incarnation of any of the big characters.
His work in both crafting and bringing a whole new iteration in the BatUniverse -- Batman Beyond -- was awarded with a Primetime Emmy back in 2001.
Happy Birthday, Mr. Timm! Our spotlight shines strongly in favor of your work!
This man achieved some genius-level storytelling especially as such acclaim applies to the world of DC Comics. He was tasked with bringing the seminal avenger of Batman to life on the small screen with Batman: The Animated Series; and -- in the process -- the result likely grew Batfandom to incredible lengths. Such epic storytelling brought an untold number of new fans to the BatUniverse; and the fact that he was pretty much given the reins to do more -- Superman: The Animated Series, Batman Beyond, and Justice League -- shows that the powers that be saw what he was doing, liked it, and demanded more. His is a talent I truly wish was in charge of the DC Cinematic Universe -- I said as much online for some time -- but, alas, it wasn't meant to be. He may not have been the perfect choice, what with his background being animation, but I would've loved to see what he could do with a live action incarnation of any of the big characters.
His work in both crafting and bringing a whole new iteration in the BatUniverse -- Batman Beyond -- was awarded with a Primetime Emmy back in 2001.
Happy Birthday, Mr. Timm! Our spotlight shines strongly in favor of your work!
Of course, there's more. There's a great deal more as the Daily Citation Day for February 5th hosts presently a mind-blowing 71 different entries, so please -- PLEASE, I IMPLORE YOU -- head on over there and check it out for posterity's sake:
As always, thank you for reading ... thank you for sharing ... thank you for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Readers, as I often remind you -- especially in posts like this -- it's never easy bringing you the latest breaking news ... and I'm heartbroken today to have to pass along the word that actor Carl Weathers has died.
Anyone who has followed his career knows that he certainly rose to prominence opposite Sylvester Stallone in the boxing saga of Rocky Balboa, a series that even saw his character killed in the ring compliments of one Ivan Drago. That alone left a huge mark on fans, so I can't even begin to imagine what passing along the news of Weathers' passing will do to those of us left around.
But -- as one of the screen's immortal tough guys -- the actor wasn't left out of the action when in 1987 he joined forced with no less than Arnold Schwarzenegger himself in facing off against the ugliest mother-humper imaginable -- from the stars! Predator was a sensation, and -- yes -- Weathers' character also met a dark fate in that picture along with a whole ensemble of baddies. What a way to go.
But, thankfully, Weathers' career endured, and it's certainly safe to say that the man kept busy. That's why it was so great to see him cast in the Walt Disney streaming show The Mandalorian. His presence as 'Greef Karga' was a fabulous addition to -- ahem -- Seasons 1 and 2 of the property; and while it may've made for some interesting laughs what they did to him in Season 3 -- largely reducing him to comic relief -- that was another terrific example of how a craftsman like Weathers could sink his teeth into any project and truly bring it alive.
Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Mr. Weathers.
May he forever rest in peace.
-- EZ
Anyone who has followed his career knows that he certainly rose to prominence opposite Sylvester Stallone in the boxing saga of Rocky Balboa, a series that even saw his character killed in the ring compliments of one Ivan Drago. That alone left a huge mark on fans, so I can't even begin to imagine what passing along the news of Weathers' passing will do to those of us left around.
But -- as one of the screen's immortal tough guys -- the actor wasn't left out of the action when in 1987 he joined forced with no less than Arnold Schwarzenegger himself in facing off against the ugliest mother-humper imaginable -- from the stars! Predator was a sensation, and -- yes -- Weathers' character also met a dark fate in that picture along with a whole ensemble of baddies. What a way to go.
But, thankfully, Weathers' career endured, and it's certainly safe to say that the man kept busy. That's why it was so great to see him cast in the Walt Disney streaming show The Mandalorian. His presence as 'Greef Karga' was a fabulous addition to -- ahem -- Seasons 1 and 2 of the property; and while it may've made for some interesting laughs what they did to him in Season 3 -- largely reducing him to comic relief -- that was another terrific example of how a craftsman like Weathers could sink his teeth into any project and truly bring it alive.
Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Mr. Weathers.
May he forever rest in peace.
-- EZ
- Published on
Good morning, gentle readers, and welcome to February 2, 2024! Despite what you may think, this is the only day that'll ever be 02/02/2024, so please make the best of it! The universe is watching, and it expects no less!
Well, well, well ... what do I have for you this morning?
Folks, when I say that "I do it all for you," I certainly don't mean that "I do it all for you personally." I don't know you -- certainly not anywhere near the level required to tailor entertainment to your specific requirements -- and I'm really only speaking of the Collective You. I don't know the Individual You. So when I encourage you to head on over to the Daily Citation Page because there's something there waiting for your discovery, again I'm speaking to the Collective You. There's no way I can set up SciFiHistory.Net to filter out those franchises and/or properties you either (A) despise or (B) deem less worthy of your time ... but thanks for the Individual You for asking! Yes, yes, yes: I'm sure that there's some kind of filtering software that could be set up for you to choose just which information you'd like to see, but doesn't having more than you want show you just how good it is that we genre fans have it?
Sigh.
There's always one ...
Well, well, well ... what do I have for you this morning?
Folks, when I say that "I do it all for you," I certainly don't mean that "I do it all for you personally." I don't know you -- certainly not anywhere near the level required to tailor entertainment to your specific requirements -- and I'm really only speaking of the Collective You. I don't know the Individual You. So when I encourage you to head on over to the Daily Citation Page because there's something there waiting for your discovery, again I'm speaking to the Collective You. There's no way I can set up SciFiHistory.Net to filter out those franchises and/or properties you either (A) despise or (B) deem less worthy of your time ... but thanks for the Individual You for asking! Yes, yes, yes: I'm sure that there's some kind of filtering software that could be set up for you to choose just which information you'd like to see, but doesn't having more than you want show you just how good it is that we genre fans have it?
Sigh.
There's always one ...
I've always thought that the immeasurable beauty of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror is that we never really know where the next big movie is coming from. In other words, it could be a big flick or a small flick. It could have a huge talent attached to it, or it could be a cast of virtual unknowns. Because there are just so many avenues with which to weave some interesting adventures, great storytellers can come at us from a myriad of possibilities. Ultimately, we don't know what to make of it until it spools out on the silver screen ... and when it's a piece of cinematic magic like 1993's Groundhog Day I think we're all the better for it.
Yuuup. You guessed it. Groundhog Day's birthday is today. And in some bizarre parallel universe, it'll be the film's birthday again tomorrow ... and tomorrow ... and tomorrow ... and tomorrow ...
Written (in part) and directed by Harold Ramis, this ingeniuos little flick brought together a winning cast that included Bill Murray, Andie MacDowell, Chris Elliott, Stephen Tobolowsky, and Brian Doyle-Murray. Its story highlights the adventures of a cynical weatherman who finds himself trapped in a timeloop wherein he's forced to relive the seminal Groundhog Day over and over and over until, somehow, he magically 'gets it right.' (The universe can be a harsh mistress, indeed.) It's the kind of flick that is easy for mainstream audiences to embrace the realms of the Fantastic; and, yes, I do wish Hollywood would do far more of that than what they've shucking these days.
In response to its greatness, both the Academy Of Science Fiction, Fantasy, And Horror Films and the Hugo Awards nominated the picture in their respective storytelling categories. While it may not have taken home the gold, it still earned a welcome spot deep in the hearts of countless fans around the world.
Yuuup. You guessed it. Groundhog Day's birthday is today. And in some bizarre parallel universe, it'll be the film's birthday again tomorrow ... and tomorrow ... and tomorrow ... and tomorrow ...
Written (in part) and directed by Harold Ramis, this ingeniuos little flick brought together a winning cast that included Bill Murray, Andie MacDowell, Chris Elliott, Stephen Tobolowsky, and Brian Doyle-Murray. Its story highlights the adventures of a cynical weatherman who finds himself trapped in a timeloop wherein he's forced to relive the seminal Groundhog Day over and over and over until, somehow, he magically 'gets it right.' (The universe can be a harsh mistress, indeed.) It's the kind of flick that is easy for mainstream audiences to embrace the realms of the Fantastic; and, yes, I do wish Hollywood would do far more of that than what they've shucking these days.
In response to its greatness, both the Academy Of Science Fiction, Fantasy, And Horror Films and the Hugo Awards nominated the picture in their respective storytelling categories. While it may not have taken home the gold, it still earned a welcome spot deep in the hearts of countless fans around the world.
The whole acting gig within the genres of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror can be a tough thing at times; and while I've never met or spoken with actor Brent Spiner -- who turns another year older and wiser this year -- I have to wonder if it's all that it's cracked up to be.
You see, I've seen him on other shows, and I've heard him in an interview blurb here and there talking about the phenomenon of Star Trek ... and there are a few occasions when I thought he sounded a bit jaded. Maybe a bit tired. Maybe a bit ... uninspired? Navigating one's career is always a daunting task regardless of the field; and there have been actors and actresses who've kinda/sorta gone public with never quite being happy with -- ahem -- having been in a Star Trek show. Spiner -- while never saying those words directly -- has left me with the impression that he's dealt with a lot of good and bad of it, and that's sad.
Whatever his thoughts on going where no one has gone before, he's had some great screen time, so much so that it's hard to imagine the character of 'Data' were it rested in anyone else's hands. I hope he feels the love that he's earned from fandom abroad, and I hope that love sustains him throughout whatever remains on his career. He's been a real bright spot in the TNG franchise, and that says something, indeed.
You see, I've seen him on other shows, and I've heard him in an interview blurb here and there talking about the phenomenon of Star Trek ... and there are a few occasions when I thought he sounded a bit jaded. Maybe a bit tired. Maybe a bit ... uninspired? Navigating one's career is always a daunting task regardless of the field; and there have been actors and actresses who've kinda/sorta gone public with never quite being happy with -- ahem -- having been in a Star Trek show. Spiner -- while never saying those words directly -- has left me with the impression that he's dealt with a lot of good and bad of it, and that's sad.
Whatever his thoughts on going where no one has gone before, he's had some great screen time, so much so that it's hard to imagine the character of 'Data' were it rested in anyone else's hands. I hope he feels the love that he's earned from fandom abroad, and I hope that love sustains him throughout whatever remains on his career. He's been a real bright spot in the TNG franchise, and that says something, indeed.
Why, of course, there's more. There's a good deal more over on the Daily Citation Page -- and reminder, peeps, I'm speaking to the Collective You and not the Individual You -- and each and every damn one of you (Collective You) are encouraged to surf on over there to check it out. Yes, yes, and yes: I have plenty more to add to that space -- in fact, I'm planning on putting up a few more just this morning -- so keep your eyes on that space in the moments ahead for even more!
As always, thanks for reading ... thanks for sharing ... thanks for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Growing up, I had two – and only two – true loves: Science Fiction and the tales of hard-boiled tough guys.
Two of the earliest books that I can remember reading – and fully appreciating – are Ray Bradbury’s stellar ‘The Martian Chronicles’ and Mickey Spillane’s ‘I, The Jury.’ While one I was introduced to in an early high school literature class (I’m sure you can figure out which of those two fits that bill), the other I picked off the shelves of a second-hand bookstore that operated briefly on the edge of town. Mike Hammer’s seminal tale of vengeance introduced me to the world of private detectives – hot dames, blazing pistols, and fistfights aplenty – and, to a degree, that choice drove me to eventually expand my film tastes into criminal thrillers, gangster pictures, and Film Noir. Lo and behold, I came to know that there was a whole world out there that looked just like the one Spillane captured in print; and I’ve never looked back in my pursuit of finding another entry to whet my whistle with regards to street justice being dispensed from the business end of a revolver.
To some extent, I’ll concede that not all of the stories that resonate with me (or fans of similar fare) translate well to film; and that’s kinda/sorta the case with today’s entry, a mostly forgotten crime yarn called The Outside Man (1972). Written (in part) and directed by Jacques Deray, there’s a slow-burning fuse sparking theatrically to the story of dueling hitmen whose trajectories overlap when one – Lenny (as played by Roy Scheider) – gets hired to take out the other – Lucien Bellon (revered French actor Jean-Louis Trintignant) and will stop at nothing that gets in the way. They collide and escape one another across a handful of hours – running, shooting, racing, ducking, and swinging – but eventually team-up (albeit briefly) in an attempt to make sense of some of the story’s senselessness. While I’m not entirely convinced all of what’s detailed amounts to perfect narrative logic, this remains a picture grounded by two big performances set in a surprisingly gritty Los Angeles, a city that’s unlikely to let either of them out alive … if it knows what’s good for them.
(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 …)
Two of the earliest books that I can remember reading – and fully appreciating – are Ray Bradbury’s stellar ‘The Martian Chronicles’ and Mickey Spillane’s ‘I, The Jury.’ While one I was introduced to in an early high school literature class (I’m sure you can figure out which of those two fits that bill), the other I picked off the shelves of a second-hand bookstore that operated briefly on the edge of town. Mike Hammer’s seminal tale of vengeance introduced me to the world of private detectives – hot dames, blazing pistols, and fistfights aplenty – and, to a degree, that choice drove me to eventually expand my film tastes into criminal thrillers, gangster pictures, and Film Noir. Lo and behold, I came to know that there was a whole world out there that looked just like the one Spillane captured in print; and I’ve never looked back in my pursuit of finding another entry to whet my whistle with regards to street justice being dispensed from the business end of a revolver.
To some extent, I’ll concede that not all of the stories that resonate with me (or fans of similar fare) translate well to film; and that’s kinda/sorta the case with today’s entry, a mostly forgotten crime yarn called The Outside Man (1972). Written (in part) and directed by Jacques Deray, there’s a slow-burning fuse sparking theatrically to the story of dueling hitmen whose trajectories overlap when one – Lenny (as played by Roy Scheider) – gets hired to take out the other – Lucien Bellon (revered French actor Jean-Louis Trintignant) and will stop at nothing that gets in the way. They collide and escape one another across a handful of hours – running, shooting, racing, ducking, and swinging – but eventually team-up (albeit briefly) in an attempt to make sense of some of the story’s senselessness. While I’m not entirely convinced all of what’s detailed amounts to perfect narrative logic, this remains a picture grounded by two big performances set in a surprisingly gritty Los Angeles, a city that’s unlikely to let either of them out alive … if it knows what’s good for them.
(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:
“After fulfilling a contract killing in Los Angeles, a French hit man becomes the target of a hit himself and tries to flee back to Paris.”
Honestly, I sat down with The Outside Man mostly because it was a film I’d surprisingly never even heard of.
As one can imagine, the beauty of this approach is that I really had zero idea of what to expect – well, except for what scant reading I could find on this mostly forgotten flick – and I think it helped increase my overall excitement for what I found. Writer/director Jacques Deray – whom I’ve had modest experience exposure to in watching 1970’s Borsalino (reviewed here) – does a better-than-affable job pushing a relatively simple story of two hitmen in pursuit of their respective end games – linked only by their shared desire to survive – and the film rises and falls on the merits of what’s captured almost perfunctorily on camera. It isn’t lush visuals or tightly conceived images to any degree, nor is there any complex character study performed on either lead; like the two craftsmen just doing what they do best, there’s an effortlessness to the flow that only gets interrupted with an occasional sequence that stretches on a bit longer than needed for art’s sake.
The assassin Bellon is hired to fly into Los Angeles for a day to perform a single contract kill of Victor Kovacs (Ted de Corsia), a California-based mobster who has apparently made more than a few enemies along the way. Once the deed is done, the hitman returns to his hotel room only to discover things surprisingly amiss: he’s been checked out of the place with no further instructions, and a strange man – Lenny – is now tailing him around the city. It isn’t long before bullets are exchanged between the two adversaries, and Bellon realizes he’s been set-up by someone intended to ultimately get him out of the way, all of which might just lead back to the younger Alex Kovacs (Umberto Orsini) and his stepmother/lover Jackie (Angie Dickinson) who have conspired to pry the criminal empire from Victor’s grasp.
Proving that there’s little new under the sun, The Outside Man plays out in somewhat predictable fashion here and there. A goodly portion of the film is chase sequences – Bellon remains a fish-out-of-water always searching for a safe place to land, and he spends screen time fleeing the always just-on-his-heels Lenny. Given that so many stronger entries have used such a pursuit to fill up a film, this one could’ve benefitted from Deray giving it a bit more cinematic flavor, but that isn’t the case. Sadly, the usually picturesque L.A. isn’t given the kind of spectacular backdrop that it’s received elsewhere, especially from some of the best of the 1960’s and 1970’s releases; and – in fairness – Outside winds up feeling like a basic crime story that could’ve taken place in any of the U.S.’s bigger cities if not, even, somewhere abroad. A few interesting places are chosen – a blighted city block that looks like it’s been the aftermath of a bomb attack; some piers along the shoreline; etc. – but, overall, there isn’t much distinctiveness to the environs here.
“After fulfilling a contract killing in Los Angeles, a French hit man becomes the target of a hit himself and tries to flee back to Paris.”
Honestly, I sat down with The Outside Man mostly because it was a film I’d surprisingly never even heard of.
As one can imagine, the beauty of this approach is that I really had zero idea of what to expect – well, except for what scant reading I could find on this mostly forgotten flick – and I think it helped increase my overall excitement for what I found. Writer/director Jacques Deray – whom I’ve had modest experience exposure to in watching 1970’s Borsalino (reviewed here) – does a better-than-affable job pushing a relatively simple story of two hitmen in pursuit of their respective end games – linked only by their shared desire to survive – and the film rises and falls on the merits of what’s captured almost perfunctorily on camera. It isn’t lush visuals or tightly conceived images to any degree, nor is there any complex character study performed on either lead; like the two craftsmen just doing what they do best, there’s an effortlessness to the flow that only gets interrupted with an occasional sequence that stretches on a bit longer than needed for art’s sake.
The assassin Bellon is hired to fly into Los Angeles for a day to perform a single contract kill of Victor Kovacs (Ted de Corsia), a California-based mobster who has apparently made more than a few enemies along the way. Once the deed is done, the hitman returns to his hotel room only to discover things surprisingly amiss: he’s been checked out of the place with no further instructions, and a strange man – Lenny – is now tailing him around the city. It isn’t long before bullets are exchanged between the two adversaries, and Bellon realizes he’s been set-up by someone intended to ultimately get him out of the way, all of which might just lead back to the younger Alex Kovacs (Umberto Orsini) and his stepmother/lover Jackie (Angie Dickinson) who have conspired to pry the criminal empire from Victor’s grasp.
Proving that there’s little new under the sun, The Outside Man plays out in somewhat predictable fashion here and there. A goodly portion of the film is chase sequences – Bellon remains a fish-out-of-water always searching for a safe place to land, and he spends screen time fleeing the always just-on-his-heels Lenny. Given that so many stronger entries have used such a pursuit to fill up a film, this one could’ve benefitted from Deray giving it a bit more cinematic flavor, but that isn’t the case. Sadly, the usually picturesque L.A. isn’t given the kind of spectacular backdrop that it’s received elsewhere, especially from some of the best of the 1960’s and 1970’s releases; and – in fairness – Outside winds up feeling like a basic crime story that could’ve taken place in any of the U.S.’s bigger cities if not, even, somewhere abroad. A few interesting places are chosen – a blighted city block that looks like it’s been the aftermath of a bomb attack; some piers along the shoreline; etc. – but, overall, there isn’t much distinctiveness to the environs here.
Also, Bellon rather easily – perhaps a bit too easily – manages to just keep going even when circumstances kinda look so grim that he’d be better off just disappearing in the gloomy urban landscape. He absconds with the dowdy housewife Mrs. Barnes (Georgia Engel) for a time – a turn of events that has her emerging as one of those unlikely media celebrities, and it’s the comic relief of the flick – and then manages to find aid and comfort in the arms of Nancy Robson (the eternally fetching Ann-Margret). Granted, it would’ve made for a tighter tale had Deray and his screenwriting cohorts (Jean-Claude Carrière and Ian McLellan Hunter) given a stronger accounting of just how these two knew one another; but – as I said – stories of this sort don’t always come together as smoothly as do those of other genres. They function on economy – the fewest words exchanged always makes for more impactful stares between mortal enemies – so nuance and information get sacrificed in the transition from script to screen.
But I’d be a fool if I failed to point out how well both Trintignant and Scheider make for polar opposites in this bad-versus-badder premise. Both men have a coolness about them – a sense of detachment from the world-at-large and what role they play in it – that elevates the picture just about every time it begins to wind down with inactivity. It’s a master class in minimalism – so far as acting goes – with each man allowing his facial expressions to convey the level of focus, disgust, aggravation, and even disinterest as they hop from one scene to the next, always accomplishing far more with far less than their contemporaries might’ve brought to their respective roles. Such technique might not work with all audiences, and yet those of us who love to spend our time with such pursuits? It’s a work of genius that deserves to have the brutal and uncompromising light of day – a brilliance in which no one can hide – thrown across the canvas.
Still, those who live life on the edge ultimately are destined to perhaps be forgotten except by those who knew them best. This sentiment is visually captured by Deray in the last reel when the deceased Kovacs is put on – cough cough – funereal display in a private ceremony for closest friends and family. Instead of the usual open-coffin ritual, the mobster spends his final hours arranged seated in an ornate chair (consider it his throne), his face a bit pasty, with one arm extended slightly with a customary cigar pointing the way into the afterlife. Few of us would ask to be remembered this way by those we met along the long, long road of life, but it’s a fitting, Mafiosi-style, ‘final wishes’ send-off between the men and women who see themselves bigger-than-life-itself and refuse to meet the ‘Great Thereafter’ lying on their backs in some holy God-forsaken crypt.
Move aside, Saint Peter. This resting place is now under guidance and protection of one Victor Kovacs.
And you might wanna lose the halo.
But I’d be a fool if I failed to point out how well both Trintignant and Scheider make for polar opposites in this bad-versus-badder premise. Both men have a coolness about them – a sense of detachment from the world-at-large and what role they play in it – that elevates the picture just about every time it begins to wind down with inactivity. It’s a master class in minimalism – so far as acting goes – with each man allowing his facial expressions to convey the level of focus, disgust, aggravation, and even disinterest as they hop from one scene to the next, always accomplishing far more with far less than their contemporaries might’ve brought to their respective roles. Such technique might not work with all audiences, and yet those of us who love to spend our time with such pursuits? It’s a work of genius that deserves to have the brutal and uncompromising light of day – a brilliance in which no one can hide – thrown across the canvas.
Still, those who live life on the edge ultimately are destined to perhaps be forgotten except by those who knew them best. This sentiment is visually captured by Deray in the last reel when the deceased Kovacs is put on – cough cough – funereal display in a private ceremony for closest friends and family. Instead of the usual open-coffin ritual, the mobster spends his final hours arranged seated in an ornate chair (consider it his throne), his face a bit pasty, with one arm extended slightly with a customary cigar pointing the way into the afterlife. Few of us would ask to be remembered this way by those we met along the long, long road of life, but it’s a fitting, Mafiosi-style, ‘final wishes’ send-off between the men and women who see themselves bigger-than-life-itself and refuse to meet the ‘Great Thereafter’ lying on their backs in some holy God-forsaken crypt.
Move aside, Saint Peter. This resting place is now under guidance and protection of one Victor Kovacs.
And you might wanna lose the halo.
The Outside Man (1972) was produced by Cité Films, General Production Company, Les Productions Artistes Associés, and Mondial Televisione Film. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to what’s been reported as an all-new 4K scan of the 35mm original camera negative – to be exceptional. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? This is a two-disc set, offering consumers an uncut 112-minute English version along with the 111-minute French version (I haven’t viewed the French cut at this time, but with only a one-minute difference I can’t imagine there being many effective much less interesting differences). Additionally, there’s an audio commentary hosted by film historian Howard S. Berger along with Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson. And, of course, the set includes theatrical trailers for both released versions of the completed film.
Highly recommended.
When compared to the other crime pictures of its day – The French Connection (1971), The Godfather (1972), or Chinatown (1974) – I think it’s easy to see how even a lesser gem like The Outside Man (1972) may’ve been overlooked in the passage of time. It has no signature performance, nor does it boast any paradigm-shifting theatrical sequence that deserves, say, a shot-by-shot comparison besides the competition. Where those other films went for creative flourish, Outside Man pays far more attention to the stewardship of a lean-and-mean nuts-and-bolts progression. What it does have is a fabulous tete a tete between screen villains – Scheider and Trintignant – that keeps the wheels turning, even when a wobble here and there threatens to derail the forward motion. Their sizzle was done inside – not the outside – thus sacrificing crowd appeal in favor of pleasing only purists who dig the vibe … and even that’s assuming they can find this picture in a world that’s probably forgotten it even existed … much like these fate these two hitmen suffered.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Outside Man 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
Highly recommended.
When compared to the other crime pictures of its day – The French Connection (1971), The Godfather (1972), or Chinatown (1974) – I think it’s easy to see how even a lesser gem like The Outside Man (1972) may’ve been overlooked in the passage of time. It has no signature performance, nor does it boast any paradigm-shifting theatrical sequence that deserves, say, a shot-by-shot comparison besides the competition. Where those other films went for creative flourish, Outside Man pays far more attention to the stewardship of a lean-and-mean nuts-and-bolts progression. What it does have is a fabulous tete a tete between screen villains – Scheider and Trintignant – that keeps the wheels turning, even when a wobble here and there threatens to derail the forward motion. Their sizzle was done inside – not the outside – thus sacrificing crowd appeal in favor of pleasing only purists who dig the vibe … and even that’s assuming they can find this picture in a world that’s probably forgotten it even existed … much like these fate these two hitmen suffered.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Outside Man 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 the month of February, 2024!
How's your year shaping up thus far?
I won't go into any particulars, but I, for one, am incredible glad that we've left 2023 behind. It wasn't just one thing -- in fairness to all that befell our household in that ghastly, ghastly year -- but it was the sum total of a lot of small things. What's the saying? Death by a thousand cuts? That's kinda/sorta how last year went for us at the SciFiHistory.Net household. Again, it isn't worth going into in any great measure, but it's safe to say that all of us -- cats included -- were thrilled to leave 2023 in our dust. Better things are in store for 2024. Heck, I even had my first paid advertisement with the blog -- in our tenth year of web-based business -- so that feels like an improvement.
Now, I'm thinking about doing one of my 'Because You Asked' columns soon, and this is because -- ahem -- I keep receiving emails from folks trying to be helpful, encouraging me to spend some time adding extra features to SciFiHistory.Net. As a blogger, I've always been willing to take and consider feedback, but my bottom line -- when it comes to reader requests, in all honesty -- is that a great many folks who come here have very little idea of how long it takes to build something as vast and complex as SciFiHistory.Net (seriously, there's a TON of research in this pages, peeps) and then to maintain it. Naturally, I'd love for the place to grow exponentially overnight, but anyone in this business will tell you that rarely -- if ever -- happens. While I'm all for adding new pages and whatnot, some of the suggestions would ultimately turn this place more into IMDB.com ... and I've just no interest in that whatsoever.
As always, thank you for the suggestion. It's nice to know that you visit this place, and you care about it so much so that you expend a bit of thought about how it might tickle your fancy even a bit more. Still, I just don't have the kind of time some of these suggestions would require, and I'll have to leave it at that.
How's your year shaping up thus far?
I won't go into any particulars, but I, for one, am incredible glad that we've left 2023 behind. It wasn't just one thing -- in fairness to all that befell our household in that ghastly, ghastly year -- but it was the sum total of a lot of small things. What's the saying? Death by a thousand cuts? That's kinda/sorta how last year went for us at the SciFiHistory.Net household. Again, it isn't worth going into in any great measure, but it's safe to say that all of us -- cats included -- were thrilled to leave 2023 in our dust. Better things are in store for 2024. Heck, I even had my first paid advertisement with the blog -- in our tenth year of web-based business -- so that feels like an improvement.
Now, I'm thinking about doing one of my 'Because You Asked' columns soon, and this is because -- ahem -- I keep receiving emails from folks trying to be helpful, encouraging me to spend some time adding extra features to SciFiHistory.Net. As a blogger, I've always been willing to take and consider feedback, but my bottom line -- when it comes to reader requests, in all honesty -- is that a great many folks who come here have very little idea of how long it takes to build something as vast and complex as SciFiHistory.Net (seriously, there's a TON of research in this pages, peeps) and then to maintain it. Naturally, I'd love for the place to grow exponentially overnight, but anyone in this business will tell you that rarely -- if ever -- happens. While I'm all for adding new pages and whatnot, some of the suggestions would ultimately turn this place more into IMDB.com ... and I've just no interest in that whatsoever.
As always, thank you for the suggestion. It's nice to know that you visit this place, and you care about it so much so that you expend a bit of thought about how it might tickle your fancy even a bit more. Still, I just don't have the kind of time some of these suggestions would require, and I'll have to leave it at that.
A great deal of my love for genre entertainment blossomed in my early years. Growing up in a small, small town where there was, literally, so little to do, I had no choice but to turn my attention to books, comics, TV shows, and movies ... and perhaps the single greatest experience as a young'un was discovering the films of George Pal.
I've often said that I considered Pal the 'George Lucas' and 'Steven Spielberg' of an earlier generation. Some have taken issue with that characterization, saying that -- technically -- Pal never so much created or wrote anything, certainly not in the same way that Lucas and Spielberg may've crafted some of their original stories; and that's true. My point in making the association, however, was to draw emphasis to the man's prowess is seeing a great Science Fiction or Fantasy story and setting out to present the very best form of it up in the lights the way audiences would be thrilled to experience. In that regard, I think the comparison is valid, and I stand by it.
In the days of my youth, I'd regularly tune in to WGN (out of Chicago) to watch their Family Classics slot over the weekends. Frazier Thomas -- for those of you who remember the name -- would host this line-up; and the catalogue of flicks that made the rotation were a great many titles those of my generation came to know and love. Well, the films of George Pal were staples to Classics, and it was during this time that I was introduced to such epics as Destination Moon (1950), When Worlds Collide (1951), The War Of The Worlds (1953), The Time Machine (1960), and Atlantis: The Lost Continent (1961). Mind you, there are other titles in Pal's library, but it was these seminal pictures that truly introduced me along with countless others to the joys of the realms of the Fantastic ... and, quite frankly, filmdom as a whole owes a debt to the talented director and producer that can never be repaid.
So wherever you may be, Mr. Pal, let me be one of the first and loudest to say 'Happy Birthday!'
I've often said that I considered Pal the 'George Lucas' and 'Steven Spielberg' of an earlier generation. Some have taken issue with that characterization, saying that -- technically -- Pal never so much created or wrote anything, certainly not in the same way that Lucas and Spielberg may've crafted some of their original stories; and that's true. My point in making the association, however, was to draw emphasis to the man's prowess is seeing a great Science Fiction or Fantasy story and setting out to present the very best form of it up in the lights the way audiences would be thrilled to experience. In that regard, I think the comparison is valid, and I stand by it.
In the days of my youth, I'd regularly tune in to WGN (out of Chicago) to watch their Family Classics slot over the weekends. Frazier Thomas -- for those of you who remember the name -- would host this line-up; and the catalogue of flicks that made the rotation were a great many titles those of my generation came to know and love. Well, the films of George Pal were staples to Classics, and it was during this time that I was introduced to such epics as Destination Moon (1950), When Worlds Collide (1951), The War Of The Worlds (1953), The Time Machine (1960), and Atlantis: The Lost Continent (1961). Mind you, there are other titles in Pal's library, but it was these seminal pictures that truly introduced me along with countless others to the joys of the realms of the Fantastic ... and, quite frankly, filmdom as a whole owes a debt to the talented director and producer that can never be repaid.
So wherever you may be, Mr. Pal, let me be one of the first and loudest to say 'Happy Birthday!'
Amongst fans of a certain generation, there will always be that quintessential debate: which show did you like better ... Star Trek (1966-1969) or Lost In Space (1965-1968)?
Now, of course, there's room for folks to like both of them. In fairness, they do have some storytelling similarities -- being that they were created and aired in similar cultural eras -- but they're vastly different programs in tone. Lost was always more of a monster show, in my mind, never really facing or addressing the complexities of space or Science Fiction but, instead, using them as a construct to weave a very family-friendly adventure. In contrast, Trek tried to deal with issues, painting them with a fairly broad brush against a scale of morality; and it was much more adult in tone. It's great that there's room in entertainment history for there to be shows of both types, but I rarely confuse the two other than to say they were programs I enjoyed in the days of true TV syndication way back when.
And much like Captain Kirk was the central perspective of Trek, young Will Robinson -- as played by actor Bill Mumy -- remained front-and-center in a great deal of the action and intrigue surrounding the entire Robinson family. (I know, I know, I know: there are folks who contend that the show really belonged to either Dr. Smith or the Robot, but I agree to disagree.) Will maintained this wide-eyed innocence, especially about always doing the right thing whenever faced with a conflict, and it was this beating heart that kept alive so much of the program's narrative. While I was a kid, it was downright grand to see these adventures played out through the eyes of a fellow youngster; and Irwin Allen's Lost In Space will always be a bit of sugary perfection for those reasons.
Happy birthday, Mr. Mumy! What a TV pioneer you remain!
Now, of course, there's room for folks to like both of them. In fairness, they do have some storytelling similarities -- being that they were created and aired in similar cultural eras -- but they're vastly different programs in tone. Lost was always more of a monster show, in my mind, never really facing or addressing the complexities of space or Science Fiction but, instead, using them as a construct to weave a very family-friendly adventure. In contrast, Trek tried to deal with issues, painting them with a fairly broad brush against a scale of morality; and it was much more adult in tone. It's great that there's room in entertainment history for there to be shows of both types, but I rarely confuse the two other than to say they were programs I enjoyed in the days of true TV syndication way back when.
And much like Captain Kirk was the central perspective of Trek, young Will Robinson -- as played by actor Bill Mumy -- remained front-and-center in a great deal of the action and intrigue surrounding the entire Robinson family. (I know, I know, I know: there are folks who contend that the show really belonged to either Dr. Smith or the Robot, but I agree to disagree.) Will maintained this wide-eyed innocence, especially about always doing the right thing whenever faced with a conflict, and it was this beating heart that kept alive so much of the program's narrative. While I was a kid, it was downright grand to see these adventures played out through the eyes of a fellow youngster; and Irwin Allen's Lost In Space will always be a bit of sugary perfection for those reasons.
Happy birthday, Mr. Mumy! What a TV pioneer you remain!
Naturally, there's more. There's a lot more. Febuary 1st presently has up an astonishing 82 different trivia citations -- yes, for those of you wondering, I have a few dozen more I'm working to add in my personal archives -- and I dare you to find something in that space that doesn't tickle your brain just the way intended. Head on over to that space and check it out. Goodness awaits your arrival right here ...
As always, thanks for reading ... thanks for sharing ... thanks for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Well, well, well ... good afternoon, gentle readers, and welcome to the very last day of January, 2024!
Did you seriously think that you were going to get through today without a Daily Grindhouse post? Oh, perish the thought ... perish the thought ... I was simply tied up with some other activities this morning, and it kept me away from the blog until now. Now, I'm here -- rest easy, folks -- and I'm making my way through today's trivia in order to give you a little bit extra as you've come to expect from SciFiHistory.Net!
How's your Hump Day, peeps?
Mine is going just fine. On the way home from my volunteer gig, I had to stop at a few stores to try to find a very specific cat food that has been in short supply on shelves as of late. I won't trouble you with all of the particulars, but I have one feline who has always suffered from some nasal issues. For whatever reason, there's only this one brand of food she eats on a fairly consistent basis; and this sometimes requires me to run from store to store trying to find it as it isn't always stocked in ample supply. Ah, the life of a cat parent ...
In any event, I spent yesterday afternoon enthralled with a 70's action/thriller that -- yes -- I'll be reviewing in this space probably tomorrow or Friday at the latest. It was quite good -- won't spoil it for you now -- so keep your eyes peeled. It should be a welcome surprise.
Did you seriously think that you were going to get through today without a Daily Grindhouse post? Oh, perish the thought ... perish the thought ... I was simply tied up with some other activities this morning, and it kept me away from the blog until now. Now, I'm here -- rest easy, folks -- and I'm making my way through today's trivia in order to give you a little bit extra as you've come to expect from SciFiHistory.Net!
How's your Hump Day, peeps?
Mine is going just fine. On the way home from my volunteer gig, I had to stop at a few stores to try to find a very specific cat food that has been in short supply on shelves as of late. I won't trouble you with all of the particulars, but I have one feline who has always suffered from some nasal issues. For whatever reason, there's only this one brand of food she eats on a fairly consistent basis; and this sometimes requires me to run from store to store trying to find it as it isn't always stocked in ample supply. Ah, the life of a cat parent ...
In any event, I spent yesterday afternoon enthralled with a 70's action/thriller that -- yes -- I'll be reviewing in this space probably tomorrow or Friday at the latest. It was quite good -- won't spoil it for you now -- so keep your eyes peeled. It should be a welcome surprise.
Gosh. The name of Norm Prescott is one that's rarely (if ever) uttered these days, and -- sigh -- it's a shame that a good deal of his work is lost to history. Championing these pioneers who helped bring Science Fiction and Fantasy to the masses-at-large was one of the chief reasons that I started SciFiHistory.Net, so I think it only fitting to give readers a minor education on this day as the producer got his start in our plane of existence all the way back in the year 1927. (So ... Happy Birthday, Norm ... if you're looking down from the other side ...)
For those of you who've never heard his name, it's equally likely that you never heard of the company he helped found -- along with Hal Sutherland and Lou Scheimer. They're brainchild was known as Filmation, and it opened its doors all the way back in 1963, lasting all the way until 1989 when they finally closed up shop. And yet in between that start and finish date were some of the staples that made appointment television the glory is was for the bygone era. There is no way for me to do justice to all of their adventures on screens big and small, but I'll not let the day go by without naming the biggest and brightest so far as this reviewer (and watcher) is concerned.
1967's Journey To The Center Of The Earth was an animated show that lasted seventeen episodes and kinda/sorta mined its source material -- the novel of the same name written by genre legend Jules Verne -- for all it could. Here's the series' premise as provided by IMDB.com: "Based on the Jules Verne classic novel and the 1959 film by 20th Century Fox. This Saturday morning animated series followed the adventures of Professor Lindenbrook and his party trying to get to the center of the Earth before the evil Count Saknussem They follow a trail left centuries earlier by Arne Saknussem, an ancestor of the Count's."
In similar fashion, Fantastic Voyage (1968-1969) drew inspiration from the 1966 major motion picture that was a bit of a sensation at the box office. It also lasted only a single season of seventeen episodes. Here's its premise as provided by IMDB.com: "The government confronts mysterious incidents that threaten international safety and determines it must employ a team of experts who are shrunken to microscopic size to infiltrate and combat otherwise impenetrable dangers; thus is the Combined Miniature Defense Force created; it is led by US Navy Commander Jonathan Kidd, an expert frogman; Guru, a Tibetan wizard possessing fantastic powers; Erica Lane, an astronaut, doctor, and biologist; and Busby Birdwell, a scientist and engineer who builds the CMDF's primary aerial craft, the Voyager."
But it really wasn't until 1973 when Filmation truly came into its own when it bravely went where no man had gone before. Star Trek: The Animated Series holds a much beloved place in the heart of Trek enthusiasts everywhere, so much so that it's often regarded as a continuation of the live action television show which lasted three seasons on broadcast television. While I didn't think it was 'on par' with those adventures, it definitely had a few outings that enhanced some of the existing mythology, so much so that it's easy to accept why so many consider it canon in the beloved franchise.
There's more -- honestly, a good deal more -- but I'm going to leave it at that, encouraging folks to check out Mr. Prescott's profile on IMDB.com and explore what strange new worlds truly look like when conceived by one of the industry's smartest players.
For those of you who've never heard his name, it's equally likely that you never heard of the company he helped found -- along with Hal Sutherland and Lou Scheimer. They're brainchild was known as Filmation, and it opened its doors all the way back in 1963, lasting all the way until 1989 when they finally closed up shop. And yet in between that start and finish date were some of the staples that made appointment television the glory is was for the bygone era. There is no way for me to do justice to all of their adventures on screens big and small, but I'll not let the day go by without naming the biggest and brightest so far as this reviewer (and watcher) is concerned.
1967's Journey To The Center Of The Earth was an animated show that lasted seventeen episodes and kinda/sorta mined its source material -- the novel of the same name written by genre legend Jules Verne -- for all it could. Here's the series' premise as provided by IMDB.com: "Based on the Jules Verne classic novel and the 1959 film by 20th Century Fox. This Saturday morning animated series followed the adventures of Professor Lindenbrook and his party trying to get to the center of the Earth before the evil Count Saknussem They follow a trail left centuries earlier by Arne Saknussem, an ancestor of the Count's."
In similar fashion, Fantastic Voyage (1968-1969) drew inspiration from the 1966 major motion picture that was a bit of a sensation at the box office. It also lasted only a single season of seventeen episodes. Here's its premise as provided by IMDB.com: "The government confronts mysterious incidents that threaten international safety and determines it must employ a team of experts who are shrunken to microscopic size to infiltrate and combat otherwise impenetrable dangers; thus is the Combined Miniature Defense Force created; it is led by US Navy Commander Jonathan Kidd, an expert frogman; Guru, a Tibetan wizard possessing fantastic powers; Erica Lane, an astronaut, doctor, and biologist; and Busby Birdwell, a scientist and engineer who builds the CMDF's primary aerial craft, the Voyager."
But it really wasn't until 1973 when Filmation truly came into its own when it bravely went where no man had gone before. Star Trek: The Animated Series holds a much beloved place in the heart of Trek enthusiasts everywhere, so much so that it's often regarded as a continuation of the live action television show which lasted three seasons on broadcast television. While I didn't think it was 'on par' with those adventures, it definitely had a few outings that enhanced some of the existing mythology, so much so that it's easy to accept why so many consider it canon in the beloved franchise.
There's more -- honestly, a good deal more -- but I'm going to leave it at that, encouraging folks to check out Mr. Prescott's profile on IMDB.com and explore what strange new worlds truly look like when conceived by one of the industry's smartest players.
Regular readers to SciFiHistory.Net know all too well that one of my greatest assets (my word, not yours) is that unlike a great many others who blog about genre I don't always agree with fandom. Furthermore, I'm not opposed to saying so. I speak my piece. I try to stick to my convictions. If something is grand, then I'll champion it just the way I think it deserves to be applauded. If I don't see it that way, then I'm perfectly comfortable with being left behind in the process.
One of the biggest disagreements I've had as of the last few years involves Alita: Battle Angel, a flick that premiered on this day back in 2019.
The short skinny here is that Alita was embraced by fandom. As for me? I honestly felt 'meh.'
Now, don't get me wrong: the film is a masterpiece with its technical prowess. What the story loses in epic proportions it definitely makes up for with effects, imagery, and ideas. But because -- at its core -- it's essentialy little more than a high-tech riff on the whole Pinocchio story, I just wasn't moved by its characters. Again: yes, it has some great scenes, and it definitely benefits from a stellar cast ... but -- as I've contended -- I just wasn't engaged the way so many others were. This is what I mean when I say that sometimes my preferences just don't quite coincide with the mainstream; this doesn't make my opinion any better or any worse than anyone else's. What moves each of us is different, and Alita just seemed a bit too light in pushing boundaries other than the technical ones. Wizardy is good, but some tricks just don't impress me as they do you.
Regardless, Happy Birthday, Alita. Here's hoping that long-promised sequel finally gets a greenlight. It'd be grand to see where you go next.
One of the biggest disagreements I've had as of the last few years involves Alita: Battle Angel, a flick that premiered on this day back in 2019.
The short skinny here is that Alita was embraced by fandom. As for me? I honestly felt 'meh.'
Now, don't get me wrong: the film is a masterpiece with its technical prowess. What the story loses in epic proportions it definitely makes up for with effects, imagery, and ideas. But because -- at its core -- it's essentialy little more than a high-tech riff on the whole Pinocchio story, I just wasn't moved by its characters. Again: yes, it has some great scenes, and it definitely benefits from a stellar cast ... but -- as I've contended -- I just wasn't engaged the way so many others were. This is what I mean when I say that sometimes my preferences just don't quite coincide with the mainstream; this doesn't make my opinion any better or any worse than anyone else's. What moves each of us is different, and Alita just seemed a bit too light in pushing boundaries other than the technical ones. Wizardy is good, but some tricks just don't impress me as they do you.
Regardless, Happy Birthday, Alita. Here's hoping that long-promised sequel finally gets a greenlight. It'd be grand to see where you go next.
Of course, there's more. In fact, with an incredible 81 different genre trivia citations, there's actually a lot more. And this is where I encourage each of you to head on over to the Daily Citation Page to check it all out. There's nothing better than celebrating SciFi, Fantasy, and Horror, and you'll all encouraged to join in on the fun. Here's the link to make it easy for you ...
As always, folks, thanks for reading ... thanks for sharing ... thanks for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Under SciFiHistory.Net’s ‘Monsters Of A Sort’ category heading, I take a look at features that kinda/sorta dabble into sensibilities very close to (if not downright demonstrative of) Film Noir and/or the unconventional screen mystery. Despite maintaining a heavy (and near constant) diet of genre projects, I’m not always satiated by just SciFi, Fantasy, and Horror; so I do like – from time-to-time – to add a little substance from these other realms. It helps to widen my perspective. It helps to cleanse the palate. It keeps me fresh … and a ‘fresh me’ is good for all of you, my faithful readers.
Today’s distraction: 1942’s The Mystery Of Marie Roget was based on an Edgar Allan Poe story who – from what I’ve read – based his original short on the true life crime of Mary Cecilia Rogers’ murder. Though by all accounts Rogers’ death was never quite solved, Poe used the details of her somewhat sensational disappearance, return, and subsequent second disappearance as the setting for his own narrative, inserting a mystery in to tantalize readers with what he may’ve deduced become of the lady. It’s also worth noting that Poe crafted the puzzle as a sequel to his popular short – “The Murders In The Rue Morgue” – bringing back his police detective C. Auguste Dupin to host the action. Incidentally, I’ve also read that the Roget story bears the literary distinction of being the very first mystery to be based on actual events. What better source material to adapt to the silver screen?
Directed by Phil Rosen with the Poe story adapted by Michael Jacoby, the feature film includes Patric Knowles, Maria Montez, Maria Ouspenskaya, John Litel, and Edward Norris in prominent roles. Rosen would go on to helm such genre entries as 1944’s Return Of The Ape Man (with Bela Lugosi and John Carradine) and 1946’s The Shadow Returns; and Montez – possibly the box office draw here – would put her exotic good looks to great use as ‘Queen Antinea’ in 1949’s Fantasy/Adventure Siren Of Atlantis for United Artists. Knowles had already made a name for himself with audiences for his work in The Adventures Of Robin Hood (1938) and The Wolf Man (1941), so there’s no doubting he, too, may’ve been a source of interest for audiences coming into this feature, though I have to wonder if some might’ve left it scratching their heads just a bit as I did.
As per my usual format, the film’s synopsis appears below. My two cents on its construction follow.
Today’s distraction: 1942’s The Mystery Of Marie Roget was based on an Edgar Allan Poe story who – from what I’ve read – based his original short on the true life crime of Mary Cecilia Rogers’ murder. Though by all accounts Rogers’ death was never quite solved, Poe used the details of her somewhat sensational disappearance, return, and subsequent second disappearance as the setting for his own narrative, inserting a mystery in to tantalize readers with what he may’ve deduced become of the lady. It’s also worth noting that Poe crafted the puzzle as a sequel to his popular short – “The Murders In The Rue Morgue” – bringing back his police detective C. Auguste Dupin to host the action. Incidentally, I’ve also read that the Roget story bears the literary distinction of being the very first mystery to be based on actual events. What better source material to adapt to the silver screen?
Directed by Phil Rosen with the Poe story adapted by Michael Jacoby, the feature film includes Patric Knowles, Maria Montez, Maria Ouspenskaya, John Litel, and Edward Norris in prominent roles. Rosen would go on to helm such genre entries as 1944’s Return Of The Ape Man (with Bela Lugosi and John Carradine) and 1946’s The Shadow Returns; and Montez – possibly the box office draw here – would put her exotic good looks to great use as ‘Queen Antinea’ in 1949’s Fantasy/Adventure Siren Of Atlantis for United Artists. Knowles had already made a name for himself with audiences for his work in The Adventures Of Robin Hood (1938) and The Wolf Man (1941), so there’s no doubting he, too, may’ve been a source of interest for audiences coming into this feature, though I have to wonder if some might’ve left it scratching their heads just a bit as I did.
As per my usual format, the film’s synopsis appears below. My two cents on its construction follow.
(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 detective tries to unravel the strange circumstances surrounding the death of a young actress.”
When is a mystery not a mystery?
Well … the simplest answer would be when there really isn’t all that much mystery to begin with, and that’s probably my biggest issue with The Mystery Of Marie Roget. All of the action is kinda/sorta founded on the premise that our central character of Marie Roget (played by the fetching Maria Montez) being absent, and yet she turns up all of her own accord (and in perfect health) in the first reel of a trim 61-minute feature … so … what else ya got?
Therein lies the problem: this mystery had little left in store.
Now, there’s the whole business about just where the actress went and why it all had to be a secret; and this is where Marie Roget turns rather sharply out of the realm of the Fantastic into what’s otherwise a fairly predictable and conventional melodrama. It would seem that Marie has set her homewrecking sights on Marcel (Edward Norris) – the fiancé of her own younger sister Camille (Nell O’Day) – and their romantic escapades as of late required her to vanish from the face of the Earth (seemingly) so that the two can have time together away from prying eyes. Yes, this mystery is little more than one more exploration of the wages of sin, but it gets a little more complex in the second half when Roget does turn up dead, though the guilty culprit really isn’t all that difficult to deduce.
Sadly, there just isn’t all that much more to the film. With the runtime just over one hour, it isn’t as if there’s a lot of room to fill, and the performances from top to bottom all feel a bit too routine to arouse much interest in those showing up expecting more but getting less. Knowles is efficient but rather plain as our lead detective, and he’s not really given all that much character in interactions with sidekick fellow detective Gobelin (Lloyd Corrigan). Their relationship is largely set up for comic relief, and I suppose it works just fine on that level. Actress Maria Ouspenskaya makes a great turn as Madame Roget, the outspoken matriarch to the family who sets Dupin to the task of uncovering what’s up with her family; and, arguably, she makes the most of her limited screen time.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A detective tries to unravel the strange circumstances surrounding the death of a young actress.”
When is a mystery not a mystery?
Well … the simplest answer would be when there really isn’t all that much mystery to begin with, and that’s probably my biggest issue with The Mystery Of Marie Roget. All of the action is kinda/sorta founded on the premise that our central character of Marie Roget (played by the fetching Maria Montez) being absent, and yet she turns up all of her own accord (and in perfect health) in the first reel of a trim 61-minute feature … so … what else ya got?
Therein lies the problem: this mystery had little left in store.
Now, there’s the whole business about just where the actress went and why it all had to be a secret; and this is where Marie Roget turns rather sharply out of the realm of the Fantastic into what’s otherwise a fairly predictable and conventional melodrama. It would seem that Marie has set her homewrecking sights on Marcel (Edward Norris) – the fiancé of her own younger sister Camille (Nell O’Day) – and their romantic escapades as of late required her to vanish from the face of the Earth (seemingly) so that the two can have time together away from prying eyes. Yes, this mystery is little more than one more exploration of the wages of sin, but it gets a little more complex in the second half when Roget does turn up dead, though the guilty culprit really isn’t all that difficult to deduce.
Sadly, there just isn’t all that much more to the film. With the runtime just over one hour, it isn’t as if there’s a lot of room to fill, and the performances from top to bottom all feel a bit too routine to arouse much interest in those showing up expecting more but getting less. Knowles is efficient but rather plain as our lead detective, and he’s not really given all that much character in interactions with sidekick fellow detective Gobelin (Lloyd Corrigan). Their relationship is largely set up for comic relief, and I suppose it works just fine on that level. Actress Maria Ouspenskaya makes a great turn as Madame Roget, the outspoken matriarch to the family who sets Dupin to the task of uncovering what’s up with her family; and, arguably, she makes the most of her limited screen time.
Now, Marie Roget does make some great use of atmosphere in the final reel: with a last-minute plot of their own creation, Dupin and Gobelin set the stage for a showdown with a masked phantom across the rooftops of Paris. While the set-up is a bit easy and could have as easily failed as it succeeded (damn the movie logic!), such narrative trickery has been used across filmdom to rescue a premise that otherwise may’ve reached its limitations. What transpires in the foot chase and gunplay is pretty grand, so much so that I wish Jacoby’s script could’ve undergone another overhaul to insert more of the same into everything that came before. A bit more of such suspense could easily have made for a better film. I guess that wasn’t meant to be; and we’re left with a lukewarm affair that barely fits the definition of Film Noir to be included as part of this release from Kino Lorber.
The Mystery Of Marie Roget (aka Phantom Of Paris) (1942) was produced by Universal Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to what’s reported as a brand-new HD master (from a 2K scan of the 35mm fine grain) exceptional: yes, there’s some obvious highs and lows attributed to the age of the source material, but it’s all still very, very good. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts two separate audio commentaries along with the original theatrical trailer. It’s a quality collection, indeed.
Alas, only mildly recommended.
Going into The Mystery Of Marie Roget (1942), I was entranced with the prospects of experiencing one more theatrical incarnation of the works of genre master Edgar Allan Poe. That and one more chance to ogle Maria Montez doing what she did best in her brief career with the silver screen certainly led me to believe I was on the cusp of discovering another cinematic classic I’d never heard of in that pantheon of forgotten thrillers. On the other end of its 61 minutes, I felt a bit cheated over how little inspiration made its way into the shadows and light, making the alleged mystery and its slim cast a bit of a slog that never quite comes together the way a good yarn should. It’s not a complete failure … but it’s about as close as one gets considering how much talent went into the whole shebang.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Mystery Of Marie Roget – as part of their Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema Collection, Volume XVI – 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
The Mystery Of Marie Roget (aka Phantom Of Paris) (1942) was produced by Universal Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to what’s reported as a brand-new HD master (from a 2K scan of the 35mm fine grain) exceptional: yes, there’s some obvious highs and lows attributed to the age of the source material, but it’s all still very, very good. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts two separate audio commentaries along with the original theatrical trailer. It’s a quality collection, indeed.
Alas, only mildly recommended.
Going into The Mystery Of Marie Roget (1942), I was entranced with the prospects of experiencing one more theatrical incarnation of the works of genre master Edgar Allan Poe. That and one more chance to ogle Maria Montez doing what she did best in her brief career with the silver screen certainly led me to believe I was on the cusp of discovering another cinematic classic I’d never heard of in that pantheon of forgotten thrillers. On the other end of its 61 minutes, I felt a bit cheated over how little inspiration made its way into the shadows and light, making the alleged mystery and its slim cast a bit of a slog that never quite comes together the way a good yarn should. It’s not a complete failure … but it’s about as close as one gets considering how much talent went into the whole shebang.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Mystery Of Marie Roget – as part of their Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema Collection, Volume XVI – 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 January 30, 2024!
Yes, yes, and yes: it's Tuesday. It's also early. So allow me to be the first to ask: "How's your week going thus far?"
From the SciFiHistory.Net News Desk, I -- for one -- am hoping that it's progressing swimmingly. Mine is doing just fine.
Well, well, well ... what to report for this morning? I can tell you that I spent the better part of yesterday doing a lot of general addition and clean-up to the site. The way I've plotted out my work week in this space is that I try to front-load a great deal of graphic work to Mondays; that way, I'm using my time strategically to attack a good deal of heavy time requirements for upcoming posts, the Daily Citation Pages, etc.. I also try to do a measure of clean-up to the upcoming pages, setting things up for the blog, etc. It's a process, and over the years I've been able to refine it to the point wherein I pretty much have a solid idea of what's in store for the week. Granted, there's so much to do that I'll never get a handle on all of it, but it definitely helps to put as much busywork in on Mondays, leaving me a bit freer the rest of the week to view and write reviews for the library of content on a consistent basis.
But ... what do I have for you, you ask?
Let's get to it ...
Yes, yes, and yes: it's Tuesday. It's also early. So allow me to be the first to ask: "How's your week going thus far?"
From the SciFiHistory.Net News Desk, I -- for one -- am hoping that it's progressing swimmingly. Mine is doing just fine.
Well, well, well ... what to report for this morning? I can tell you that I spent the better part of yesterday doing a lot of general addition and clean-up to the site. The way I've plotted out my work week in this space is that I try to front-load a great deal of graphic work to Mondays; that way, I'm using my time strategically to attack a good deal of heavy time requirements for upcoming posts, the Daily Citation Pages, etc.. I also try to do a measure of clean-up to the upcoming pages, setting things up for the blog, etc. It's a process, and over the years I've been able to refine it to the point wherein I pretty much have a solid idea of what's in store for the week. Granted, there's so much to do that I'll never get a handle on all of it, but it definitely helps to put as much busywork in on Mondays, leaving me a bit freer the rest of the week to view and write reviews for the library of content on a consistent basis.
But ... what do I have for you, you ask?
Let's get to it ...
Unlike other sites, I try to avoid 'picking on' reboots.
Now, don't get me wrong: I'm probably not as fond of them -- generally speaking, I really don't think all that many consumers are -- but I try to avoid harping on them. The entertainment industry is a big business, and its movers and shakers do try to keep a lot of balls in motion. So many ideas are made based on the possibility of profitting from them that I think it's easy for them to short-change a reboot creatively ... and -- sigh -- that happens all too often to my liking.
Seriously, producers: if you're gonna reboot an intellectual property -- especially one as groundbreaking as was the original RoboCop (1987 -- at least have a solid reason to do so. If you don't, then audiences will see through your efforts probably more quickly than you'd expect. They see a 'cash grab' for what it is; and they're less inclined to embrace this new iteration no matter how hard you try to draw it back to the source material.
I look at a motion picture like 2014's RoboCop, and I ask, "Why? Why was this film made? What does it say differently than did the first flick? Why did anyone feel a new version of this story was necessary? What did we gain culturally in the process? And -- more importantly -- what did we lose?" When it's hard to answer any of those simple queries, then it becomes pretty clear that no authentic inspiration was behind it; and the more cynical of us tune out the possibility of any element of it being worthwhile. It becomes a story without relevance. No measure of special effects can distract viewers from this RoboCop's lack of soul, and it failed to inspire.
Sure, it had some modest popcorn appeal. Folks who saw this one -- which premiered on this day back in 2014 -- might've even enjoyed an action sequence or a few laughs here and there. They may even have appreciated a performance or two. But was it necessary? Did it truly add anything of substance to the greater RoboCop mythology? I didn't think so -- not in the slightest -- and I think audiences agreed as this was one overhaul that was a bit sub-par.
Now, don't get me wrong: I'm probably not as fond of them -- generally speaking, I really don't think all that many consumers are -- but I try to avoid harping on them. The entertainment industry is a big business, and its movers and shakers do try to keep a lot of balls in motion. So many ideas are made based on the possibility of profitting from them that I think it's easy for them to short-change a reboot creatively ... and -- sigh -- that happens all too often to my liking.
Seriously, producers: if you're gonna reboot an intellectual property -- especially one as groundbreaking as was the original RoboCop (1987 -- at least have a solid reason to do so. If you don't, then audiences will see through your efforts probably more quickly than you'd expect. They see a 'cash grab' for what it is; and they're less inclined to embrace this new iteration no matter how hard you try to draw it back to the source material.
I look at a motion picture like 2014's RoboCop, and I ask, "Why? Why was this film made? What does it say differently than did the first flick? Why did anyone feel a new version of this story was necessary? What did we gain culturally in the process? And -- more importantly -- what did we lose?" When it's hard to answer any of those simple queries, then it becomes pretty clear that no authentic inspiration was behind it; and the more cynical of us tune out the possibility of any element of it being worthwhile. It becomes a story without relevance. No measure of special effects can distract viewers from this RoboCop's lack of soul, and it failed to inspire.
Sure, it had some modest popcorn appeal. Folks who saw this one -- which premiered on this day back in 2014 -- might've even enjoyed an action sequence or a few laughs here and there. They may even have appreciated a performance or two. But was it necessary? Did it truly add anything of substance to the greater RoboCop mythology? I didn't think so -- not in the slightest -- and I think audiences agreed as this was one overhaul that was a bit sub-par.
I've taken a lot of flack over the years for not enjoying Christian Bale's work as the big screen incarnation of DC Comics' Batman.
Folks, on one level, my disinterest in him in this role truly has little to do with him. As I've mentioned many, many, many times in this space, I grew up reading Batman in the books; so it's a character that's always been near-and-dear to me in ways I probably can't articulate as well as one would think. Whereas other kids my age grew up with a favorite blanket or a favorite toy or some other cherished bauble, I had my time spent in the pages of that immortal comic book. Those adventures transported me elsewhere in days that I really needed to be somewhere else, so seeing any actor step into those shoes and leave a mark on me is really daunting. Frankly, no one will likely ever be up to the challenge, so I don't mean any disrespect to Bale and Christopher Nolan and the other movers and shakers who made some good films but didn't mean anything to me.
I did, however, enjoy Bale's work as John Connor from the Terminator Salvation movie. Yes, yes, and yes: I realize I'm probably one of the only people on Earth who actually enjoyed that film; and what I respected about it is that the story tried to take the central character in a slightly different direction than what audiences expected and, ultimately, wanted. Doing something different isn't always met with acclaim -- especially in a property like The Terminator saga -- but Bale still showed us a man obsessed with trying to change the future even at the risk of his own soul. We're all flawed, and I think a flawed Connor just wasn't something audiences wanted in that time and place.
Regardless, Happy Birthday, Mr. Bale, and here's to many more!
Folks, on one level, my disinterest in him in this role truly has little to do with him. As I've mentioned many, many, many times in this space, I grew up reading Batman in the books; so it's a character that's always been near-and-dear to me in ways I probably can't articulate as well as one would think. Whereas other kids my age grew up with a favorite blanket or a favorite toy or some other cherished bauble, I had my time spent in the pages of that immortal comic book. Those adventures transported me elsewhere in days that I really needed to be somewhere else, so seeing any actor step into those shoes and leave a mark on me is really daunting. Frankly, no one will likely ever be up to the challenge, so I don't mean any disrespect to Bale and Christopher Nolan and the other movers and shakers who made some good films but didn't mean anything to me.
I did, however, enjoy Bale's work as John Connor from the Terminator Salvation movie. Yes, yes, and yes: I realize I'm probably one of the only people on Earth who actually enjoyed that film; and what I respected about it is that the story tried to take the central character in a slightly different direction than what audiences expected and, ultimately, wanted. Doing something different isn't always met with acclaim -- especially in a property like The Terminator saga -- but Bale still showed us a man obsessed with trying to change the future even at the risk of his own soul. We're all flawed, and I think a flawed Connor just wasn't something audiences wanted in that time and place.
Regardless, Happy Birthday, Mr. Bale, and here's to many more!
Of course, there's more. In fact, there's a lot more. Hell, I've even found more just this morning that I have to add. I'll never get to adding everything I've collected -- ah, life is short, folks, so make sure you enjoy it along the way -- but that won't stop me from trying.
As always, thanks for reading ... thanks for sharing ... thanks for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Having both watched an incredible number of titles in my lifetime and written about only a fraction of them, I can still say that I’ve only endured a handful of experiences wherein I truly disliked a production.
No, no, and no: I’m not trying to ‘set the reader up’ for any big twist or change-up here. All I’m really doing is trying to give you the low down. What can I say? I truly like film. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I’m aware that a good number of readers have told me that I’m too easy on film, but if I’ve learned anything from this vast number of years watching so many is that even a low-budget stinker might have something memorable to it. This might be a single performance. It might be a certain sequence. It could be something as simple as a great idea or a well-written scene of dialogue. The point is I’ve gone to great pain in my life writing about motion pictures to give readers some nugget of joy – even in those joyless experiences – because such an attempt was made to entertain us … and I feel it’s a small measure of respect back to everyone involved. It’s really no more complicated than that.
But today I’ll happily let you know that 1983’s The Man Who Wasn’t There is a film that truly pushed me to my limits. Though I didn’t see this one on its original release (theaters in my area just didn’t run anything resulting from the year’s 3D craze), I did have the – ahem – misfortune of discovering it on VHS. I think screenwriter Stanford Sherman – who’s also responsible for another travesty that goes by the name Krull (1983) – went into the process of crafting this story as a loose kinda/sorta Cold War comedy that was intended to bring invisibility into the modern era; and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that goal. The problem is that I suspect somewhere along the way what little substance there was to an already thin plot wound up getting sacrificed in favor of ramping up the childish pratfalls, stereotypical humor, and mildly lewd humor.
That which survives in the final cut is, tonally, all over the place, leaving it a genuine mess of curious proportions.
(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 State Department employee finds an egg-shaped device with a green fluid inside that makes the person who drinks it invisible. He finds himself being chased by foreign agents who want the substance.”
No, no, and no: I’m not trying to ‘set the reader up’ for any big twist or change-up here. All I’m really doing is trying to give you the low down. What can I say? I truly like film. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I’m aware that a good number of readers have told me that I’m too easy on film, but if I’ve learned anything from this vast number of years watching so many is that even a low-budget stinker might have something memorable to it. This might be a single performance. It might be a certain sequence. It could be something as simple as a great idea or a well-written scene of dialogue. The point is I’ve gone to great pain in my life writing about motion pictures to give readers some nugget of joy – even in those joyless experiences – because such an attempt was made to entertain us … and I feel it’s a small measure of respect back to everyone involved. It’s really no more complicated than that.
But today I’ll happily let you know that 1983’s The Man Who Wasn’t There is a film that truly pushed me to my limits. Though I didn’t see this one on its original release (theaters in my area just didn’t run anything resulting from the year’s 3D craze), I did have the – ahem – misfortune of discovering it on VHS. I think screenwriter Stanford Sherman – who’s also responsible for another travesty that goes by the name Krull (1983) – went into the process of crafting this story as a loose kinda/sorta Cold War comedy that was intended to bring invisibility into the modern era; and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that goal. The problem is that I suspect somewhere along the way what little substance there was to an already thin plot wound up getting sacrificed in favor of ramping up the childish pratfalls, stereotypical humor, and mildly lewd humor.
That which survives in the final cut is, tonally, all over the place, leaving it a genuine mess of curious proportions.
(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 State Department employee finds an egg-shaped device with a green fluid inside that makes the person who drinks it invisible. He finds himself being chased by foreign agents who want the substance.”
I think there was a time when actor Steve Guttenberg was one of the screen’s reliable talents. Though his resume may not look as rich today as it was perhaps then, the guy had an effortlessness to him not unlike, say, an early Tom Hanks. In fact, the two emerged on the Hollywood scene at roughly the same time; but whereas Hanks built a career around some smart choices that would push his skills to greater heights, Guttenberg’s infinitely laid-back personae kept him eternally close to home.
1981’s Diner – a smart Drama/Comedy from Barry Levinson – definitely put Steve on the map; and – from there – he emerged as a capable player in such pictures as The Day After (1983), Police Academy (1984), Cocoon (1986), Short Circuit (1986), and the often overlooked The Bedroom Window (1987). Still, somehow during the height of his exceptional exposure, Guttenberg found himself cast in The Man Who Wasn’t There. It’s a curious misfire that, likely, would’ve sidelined a weaker talent; and it just may have if it had been more widely seen.
Conceived during an era that brought a good handful of 3D pictures to the silver screen, The Man Who Wasn’t There began with a premise that audiences should’ve appreciated if history is any indicator. Taking the story of an invisible man and reframing it into a technological struggle between the East and West – this being the glory days of tensions between the United States and the former Soviet Union – could’ve intrigued both commoners and our cultural elite; but somehow this Man reached for cheaper and cheaper laughs – easier and lazier ones, too – never quite giving anyone onscreen the chance to do anything memorable with their material.
Instead of depicting the proper conflicts of the day, director Bruce Malmuth staged State Department employee Sam Cooper (played by Guttenberg) as little more than a happy camper who spends the better part of what’s supposed to be his wedding day playing host to a veritable cavalcade of stereotypical Third World diplomats whose government dinner unspools like a really, really bad vaudeville routine. Instead of populating the U.S. Capitol with people of reasonable intellectual integrity or even ruthless foreign adversaries, audiences were treated to some Three Stooges wannabes whose antics feel like they may’ve been culled from some rarely seem silent era comedies. Rather than explore the dramatic nuances of adult relationships, the script has Guttenberg – without giving his decisions so much as a second thought – willfully and deliberately jumping from the presumed love of his life Amanda (Morgan Host) into the arms of her younger sister Cindy (Lisa Langlois) just because it was convenient. He didn’t fall out of love with her. He just simply turned and went another way … with absolutely no real circumspection whatsoever.
Seriously, folks: this Man is a horribly bad script – even as a comedy – that just never justifies its need to exist.
In the hands of a more accomplished group, the film’s central MacGuffin – at the very least – could’ve been given some substance. There should’ve been some greater explanation of precisely where it came from and how it suddenly found itself into the hallowed halls of power of Washington, D.C. Instead, we’re treated to the usual exposition dumps – light ones, as it is – to fill in the holes created by a script that bobs and weaves only when the screenwriter (or director) says it should and not as a consequence of true d-e-v-e-l-o-p-m-e-n-t. There is a modest collection of moments here that amount to a central story, but – in this bunch’s hands – it feels more like they were stuffed in around the comic material instead of the other way. Invisibility is used as an excuse to deliver audiences with a moment in the ladies’ shower at an all-girls prep school … so if that’s the kind of movie magic you look for, then you’ll be glad to know that the T’s and the A’s are on full display.
Thin as it is, even invisibility deserved better than this.
1981’s Diner – a smart Drama/Comedy from Barry Levinson – definitely put Steve on the map; and – from there – he emerged as a capable player in such pictures as The Day After (1983), Police Academy (1984), Cocoon (1986), Short Circuit (1986), and the often overlooked The Bedroom Window (1987). Still, somehow during the height of his exceptional exposure, Guttenberg found himself cast in The Man Who Wasn’t There. It’s a curious misfire that, likely, would’ve sidelined a weaker talent; and it just may have if it had been more widely seen.
Conceived during an era that brought a good handful of 3D pictures to the silver screen, The Man Who Wasn’t There began with a premise that audiences should’ve appreciated if history is any indicator. Taking the story of an invisible man and reframing it into a technological struggle between the East and West – this being the glory days of tensions between the United States and the former Soviet Union – could’ve intrigued both commoners and our cultural elite; but somehow this Man reached for cheaper and cheaper laughs – easier and lazier ones, too – never quite giving anyone onscreen the chance to do anything memorable with their material.
Instead of depicting the proper conflicts of the day, director Bruce Malmuth staged State Department employee Sam Cooper (played by Guttenberg) as little more than a happy camper who spends the better part of what’s supposed to be his wedding day playing host to a veritable cavalcade of stereotypical Third World diplomats whose government dinner unspools like a really, really bad vaudeville routine. Instead of populating the U.S. Capitol with people of reasonable intellectual integrity or even ruthless foreign adversaries, audiences were treated to some Three Stooges wannabes whose antics feel like they may’ve been culled from some rarely seem silent era comedies. Rather than explore the dramatic nuances of adult relationships, the script has Guttenberg – without giving his decisions so much as a second thought – willfully and deliberately jumping from the presumed love of his life Amanda (Morgan Host) into the arms of her younger sister Cindy (Lisa Langlois) just because it was convenient. He didn’t fall out of love with her. He just simply turned and went another way … with absolutely no real circumspection whatsoever.
Seriously, folks: this Man is a horribly bad script – even as a comedy – that just never justifies its need to exist.
In the hands of a more accomplished group, the film’s central MacGuffin – at the very least – could’ve been given some substance. There should’ve been some greater explanation of precisely where it came from and how it suddenly found itself into the hallowed halls of power of Washington, D.C. Instead, we’re treated to the usual exposition dumps – light ones, as it is – to fill in the holes created by a script that bobs and weaves only when the screenwriter (or director) says it should and not as a consequence of true d-e-v-e-l-o-p-m-e-n-t. There is a modest collection of moments here that amount to a central story, but – in this bunch’s hands – it feels more like they were stuffed in around the comic material instead of the other way. Invisibility is used as an excuse to deliver audiences with a moment in the ladies’ shower at an all-girls prep school … so if that’s the kind of movie magic you look for, then you’ll be glad to know that the T’s and the A’s are on full display.
Thin as it is, even invisibility deserved better than this.
The Man Who Wasn’t There (1983) was produced by Paramount Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I nonetheless found the sights-and-sounds to what’s reported as a brand-new 3D and HD Mastering (from a 4K scan of the original camera negative) to be – aghast – surprisingly awful in spots. While some sequences look just fine, the inadequacies of the 3D technology of this bygone era (more like ‘begone,’ if you ask me) get a lot of really sad face time; these new scans truly bring some of the inferior cinematography to life, and – gasp – it ain’t all that favorable. This flick looks cheap on a whole lotta levels! Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, the disc includes not only a 2D presentation of the main feature but also includes two different 3D versions, and the packaging includes a nifty pair of red/blue glasses for individual use. There’s also a commentary from author Paul Corupe and film historian Jason Pichonsky, for those interested in such things. And, yes, there are a few trailers for posterity’s sake.
Alas, folks, this one is only mildly recommended for the following reasons …
Wow. I mean … wow. I hadn’t seen this one in ages, and – just wow – it hasn’t aged well at all.
Made to capitalize on the 3D craze of its day, The Man Who Wasn’t There (1983) is a painfully unfunny genre comedy that never quite blends its low-key boorish character humor with the fact that so much of it feels intended as the bawdy, R-rated sex comedy that emerges. The alleged political thriller elements of the story never quite feel anything other than cartoonish, and everyone except Langlois seems to be coasting through the whole premise on autopilot, never hitting anything near an authentic note much less tone in this untidy caper. It’s about as big an example of cinematic stinkery has ever been committed to film, and it’ll probably even disappoint fans of the usually-likeable Guttenberg who never commands a single scene he’s in.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of The Man Who Wasn’t There (1983) 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
Alas, folks, this one is only mildly recommended for the following reasons …
Wow. I mean … wow. I hadn’t seen this one in ages, and – just wow – it hasn’t aged well at all.
Made to capitalize on the 3D craze of its day, The Man Who Wasn’t There (1983) is a painfully unfunny genre comedy that never quite blends its low-key boorish character humor with the fact that so much of it feels intended as the bawdy, R-rated sex comedy that emerges. The alleged political thriller elements of the story never quite feel anything other than cartoonish, and everyone except Langlois seems to be coasting through the whole premise on autopilot, never hitting anything near an authentic note much less tone in this untidy caper. It’s about as big an example of cinematic stinkery has ever been committed to film, and it’ll probably even disappoint fans of the usually-likeable Guttenberg who never commands a single scene he’s in.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of The Man Who Wasn’t There (1983) 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