- Published on
Good morning, gentle readers, and welcome to Tuesday, January 24th! Here's hoping you're up and at 'em today as mankind needs whatever you're going to add to the party in order to thrive!
Ahhhh ... well me? I just got up from a power nap. I had one of those nights where I just couldn't sleep. You ever have one of those? For whatever reason, you just keep waking up and waking up and waking up. I tried trying to find a more comfortable position, and that didn't help. I tried listening to white noise for some time, and that didn't help. I ended up just staying awake for so long that I needed a bit extra, so I'm better now ... even refreshed, I'd say.
But enough about me ... how are all of you this morning?
I've built a short stack of flicks I'm needing to pen reviews for, and I'll be working on that later today. One is a Science Fiction Comedy, and the other two are film noirs I received as part of a set. It's an interesting assortment that gave me something to think about, but sadly there wasn't a home run in the bunch. Doesn't mean they're not worth seeing; these just aren't ... well ... magical, the way a really solid story swings and hits from the plate. Regardless, watch this space over the next few days, and you'll see what I mean.
Ahhhh ... well me? I just got up from a power nap. I had one of those nights where I just couldn't sleep. You ever have one of those? For whatever reason, you just keep waking up and waking up and waking up. I tried trying to find a more comfortable position, and that didn't help. I tried listening to white noise for some time, and that didn't help. I ended up just staying awake for so long that I needed a bit extra, so I'm better now ... even refreshed, I'd say.
But enough about me ... how are all of you this morning?
I've built a short stack of flicks I'm needing to pen reviews for, and I'll be working on that later today. One is a Science Fiction Comedy, and the other two are film noirs I received as part of a set. It's an interesting assortment that gave me something to think about, but sadly there wasn't a home run in the bunch. Doesn't mean they're not worth seeing; these just aren't ... well ... magical, the way a really solid story swings and hits from the plate. Regardless, watch this space over the next few days, and you'll see what I mean.
Oh, sweet Mother of Dragons, I can't begin to tell you the grief I've had to endure over the years for admitting for ... ahem ... Stargate: SG-1 just wasn't a show for me.
Now, now, now: hear me out, people.
I absolutely loved the ensemble, as well as their stable of capable back-up players. Stargate: SG-1 was one of the better produced sagas in all of genre entertainment. My issue with it was just that it never quite meant anything to me on a personal level. Some of its stories were quite good, but I honestly found a lot of blandness to a good deal of what I've seen (about three seasons of it). This just happens from time-to-time -- fandom will embrace a show wholeheartedly, so I'll watch it and go 'meh' -- so don't take it personally. Each of us are entitled to our own opinions, and my disinterest with it has absolutely nothing to do with its quality. In ways, I felt like I'd seen a lot of it before, so it lacked a measure of freshness I need in new adventures.
But ... Richard Dean Anderson? What a solid leader for the crew, and it was great to see him headline a SciFi/Fantasy show the way he did. Fabulous work, and his ongoing contributions to the whole Stargate Universe of shows is to be commended.
(I know, I know, I know ... I never quite got into MacGyver, but that's another whole issue.)
Happy birthday, Mr. Anderson, and here's to many, many more!
Now, now, now: hear me out, people.
I absolutely loved the ensemble, as well as their stable of capable back-up players. Stargate: SG-1 was one of the better produced sagas in all of genre entertainment. My issue with it was just that it never quite meant anything to me on a personal level. Some of its stories were quite good, but I honestly found a lot of blandness to a good deal of what I've seen (about three seasons of it). This just happens from time-to-time -- fandom will embrace a show wholeheartedly, so I'll watch it and go 'meh' -- so don't take it personally. Each of us are entitled to our own opinions, and my disinterest with it has absolutely nothing to do with its quality. In ways, I felt like I'd seen a lot of it before, so it lacked a measure of freshness I need in new adventures.
But ... Richard Dean Anderson? What a solid leader for the crew, and it was great to see him headline a SciFi/Fantasy show the way he did. Fabulous work, and his ongoing contributions to the whole Stargate Universe of shows is to be commended.
(I know, I know, I know ... I never quite got into MacGyver, but that's another whole issue.)
Happy birthday, Mr. Anderson, and here's to many, many more!
Speaking of birthdays, the great Gil Gerard -- better known as TV's Buck Rogers himself -- turns another year older and another year wiser today.
For better or for worse, Buck Rogers In The 25th Century was appointment television in the years of my youth. Sadly, I couldn't quite say why -- well, other than the obvious, it being SciFi -- because so many of its first season episodes were the stuff of reasonably high camp and corn (things I vehemently hate). I suppose it's probably because there really wasn't anything else like it around the dial at the time, and Gerard was such a good sport of making all of it work. He had a swagger not unlike Star Trek's Captain Kirk, and he definitely had a thing for the space ladies ... also like Capt. Kirk.
Yes, I know, I know, I know (what is it with you complainers today?): it's second season was a bit of an embarassment of riches to those who watched it ... but you know what? I actually liked a few of those adventures precisely because they were a change of pace from the goofiness of the first season. Clearly, they tried to adopt a more serious tone, and they added a few faces to the cast that could've used more screen time for audiences to like them. I guess it just wasn't meant to be, and Buck disappeared into the distant reaches of space almost in the same way he appeared out of them in the pilot telefilm.
Happy birthday, Mr. Gerard! You're a true veteran space hero regardless!
For better or for worse, Buck Rogers In The 25th Century was appointment television in the years of my youth. Sadly, I couldn't quite say why -- well, other than the obvious, it being SciFi -- because so many of its first season episodes were the stuff of reasonably high camp and corn (things I vehemently hate). I suppose it's probably because there really wasn't anything else like it around the dial at the time, and Gerard was such a good sport of making all of it work. He had a swagger not unlike Star Trek's Captain Kirk, and he definitely had a thing for the space ladies ... also like Capt. Kirk.
Yes, I know, I know, I know (what is it with you complainers today?): it's second season was a bit of an embarassment of riches to those who watched it ... but you know what? I actually liked a few of those adventures precisely because they were a change of pace from the goofiness of the first season. Clearly, they tried to adopt a more serious tone, and they added a few faces to the cast that could've used more screen time for audiences to like them. I guess it just wasn't meant to be, and Buck disappeared into the distant reaches of space almost in the same way he appeared out of them in the pilot telefilm.
Happy birthday, Mr. Gerard! You're a true veteran space hero regardless!
That's all I have for now, faithful readers, but that doesn't mean that there won't be more later today. As I said above, I'm toiling away on a few items, so keep your eyes peeled as I may just have some other new content in the hours ahead.
Here's what you're really looking for ...
As always, thanks for reading ... thanks for sharing ... thanks for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
I’ve often said that I enjoy watching older films – flicks from the near and bygone eras – because it’s very clear that a great many of those storytellers were far more interested with their ideas than they were foisting some political ideology onto audiences.
In short, there used to be a greater emphasis on story. Characters would come together – often times under a single roof or just a few of them – and then there would be this catalyst for the drama to develop. Much ado would be made about these events – this, after all, was what brought these people together so that we could watch them succeed or suffer – and it would all be tied up in some understandable big finish. We didn’t have to like it, but rarely did the efforts make us feel unimportant if we merely didn’t like the flick … rarely did it make us feel inferior because these same folks knew they’d want us back in the theaters next week or next month … and rarely did one’s political affiliation factor even in the smallest way into the equation. You want a story? Here’s one. Like it or not, this is what you get.
Still, this doesn’t excuse the veritable cavalcade of – ahem – bad films that were churned out in the process. As far as genre entries go, the great Mystery Science Theater 3000 showed us that we could still come together to lampoon some of this stale fodder; and I suspect such a treatment would be warranted for The Devil’s Partner (1960), an underwhelming yet spooky attempt at delivering a supernatural-tinged concoction for the cineplexes of the past. Directed by Charles R. Rondeau from a story by Stanley Clements and Laura Jean Mathews (FYI: the only screen credit for both), Partner cast Edgar Buchanan, Jean Allison, Richard Crane, Specser Carlisle, and Byron Foulger in key roles in a story about one man’s pact with the Devil and his attempts to enjoy a newly-acquired youth in the arms of the town sweetheart … no matter how many lives he must sacrifice in the process.
Mayberry this ain’t, my friends.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An old man sells his soul to the devil and turns into a young man. He then uses witchcraft and black magic to win a woman from his rival.”
With some older films, it’s honestly best not to make too much of them. Because they were crafted in simpler times – with simply effects work along with maybe some mildly dated influences – they were likely made far more for making a buck than they were in inspiring others for social change; and this is likely the case with the somewhat uninspired The Devil’s Partner.
Old man Pete Jensen lived a life that made few friends in Furnace Flats, New Mexico. In the opening of the picture, he’s shown slaughtering a goat in basically the living room of his one or two-room shack, only for audiences to watch in abject horror (meh, not so much) as a dark arm reaches in from off-screen in the attempt to join forces with old timer for only God (or Satan) knows. It isn’t long before Jensen’s adult nephew Nick Richards (played by Ed Nelson) shows up in town not only to close out the affairs of his deceased relative but also set up residence and maybe – just maybe – convince the perfectly fetching Nell Lucas (Jean Allison) to abandon her fiancé David Simpson (Richard Crane) and take up conjugal relations with him instead.
What viewers eventually come to learn is that angry ol’ Pete has apparently found his very own ‘fountain of youth:’ by making a pact with the grand master of the underworld himself Satan, Jensen reclaims his youth but concocts the identity of a distant nephew – Nick – in order to belay any suspicions surrounding his return. Now imbued with youth, vigor, and a healthy dose of witchcraft, he’s set his sights on a new life, this one with Nell at his side.
In short, there used to be a greater emphasis on story. Characters would come together – often times under a single roof or just a few of them – and then there would be this catalyst for the drama to develop. Much ado would be made about these events – this, after all, was what brought these people together so that we could watch them succeed or suffer – and it would all be tied up in some understandable big finish. We didn’t have to like it, but rarely did the efforts make us feel unimportant if we merely didn’t like the flick … rarely did it make us feel inferior because these same folks knew they’d want us back in the theaters next week or next month … and rarely did one’s political affiliation factor even in the smallest way into the equation. You want a story? Here’s one. Like it or not, this is what you get.
Still, this doesn’t excuse the veritable cavalcade of – ahem – bad films that were churned out in the process. As far as genre entries go, the great Mystery Science Theater 3000 showed us that we could still come together to lampoon some of this stale fodder; and I suspect such a treatment would be warranted for The Devil’s Partner (1960), an underwhelming yet spooky attempt at delivering a supernatural-tinged concoction for the cineplexes of the past. Directed by Charles R. Rondeau from a story by Stanley Clements and Laura Jean Mathews (FYI: the only screen credit for both), Partner cast Edgar Buchanan, Jean Allison, Richard Crane, Specser Carlisle, and Byron Foulger in key roles in a story about one man’s pact with the Devil and his attempts to enjoy a newly-acquired youth in the arms of the town sweetheart … no matter how many lives he must sacrifice in the process.
Mayberry this ain’t, my friends.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An old man sells his soul to the devil and turns into a young man. He then uses witchcraft and black magic to win a woman from his rival.”
With some older films, it’s honestly best not to make too much of them. Because they were crafted in simpler times – with simply effects work along with maybe some mildly dated influences – they were likely made far more for making a buck than they were in inspiring others for social change; and this is likely the case with the somewhat uninspired The Devil’s Partner.
Old man Pete Jensen lived a life that made few friends in Furnace Flats, New Mexico. In the opening of the picture, he’s shown slaughtering a goat in basically the living room of his one or two-room shack, only for audiences to watch in abject horror (meh, not so much) as a dark arm reaches in from off-screen in the attempt to join forces with old timer for only God (or Satan) knows. It isn’t long before Jensen’s adult nephew Nick Richards (played by Ed Nelson) shows up in town not only to close out the affairs of his deceased relative but also set up residence and maybe – just maybe – convince the perfectly fetching Nell Lucas (Jean Allison) to abandon her fiancé David Simpson (Richard Crane) and take up conjugal relations with him instead.
What viewers eventually come to learn is that angry ol’ Pete has apparently found his very own ‘fountain of youth:’ by making a pact with the grand master of the underworld himself Satan, Jensen reclaims his youth but concocts the identity of a distant nephew – Nick – in order to belay any suspicions surrounding his return. Now imbued with youth, vigor, and a healthy dose of witchcraft, he’s set his sights on a new life, this one with Nell at his side.
So, basically, Partner is little more than a traditional melodramatic potboiler which incorporates some supernatural skullduggery to make it all palatable. While the flick could have benefitted from a bit of steam suggested between Nick and Nell, this script sticks very close to 1950 and 1960’s moral sensibilities, providing us no greater demonstration that perhaps these two are anything greater than platonic townies. Sadly, even all of the spell craft is accomplished with very little effects work so those showing up hoping for a bit more should truly expect far less. No solid attempts were made to give this anything other than a single-pass construction captured in-camera in what was likely a very quick shoot.
Sadly, the script never even gives any single player a scene or two of substance. What with the suggestion of controversy, a rational thinker might anticipate a sequence of shouting or disagreement; and yet it’s only a spectrally influenced dog attack that gets the blood flowing (yes, pun intended). Richards tries to muster up some Machiavellian ploy by using a few folks to achieve his dark ends, but even those get brushed over without any greater context much less discussion. The small cast all show up and hit their respective marks, no one actor or actress ever trying to eek out a bit of subtext to any suggestion of wider tension. The late Edgar Buchanan gets a few scenes as the town doctor who ends up calling the shots – heck, even the town sheriff pretty much answers to him, it would seem – making this 73-minute feel like it was longer than needed and more than desired in its final reel.
This isn’t to suggest in any way that being a product of its era kept Partner from being as impactful as it could have been. Features like 1955’s East Of Eden or even 1958’s Cat On A Hot Tin Roof effectively pulled the Hollywood veneer off of the ‘Great American Family,’ and 1957’s Peyton Place is highly regarded for suggesting that small town life might conceal a great many activities we culturally would rather ignore. Coming on the heels of such cinematic triumphs, Partner could very easily have pushed the emotional envelope further than it tried – even with its mystic backdrop of sacrifice and Satanic ritual – and achieved solid results. The problem here is that … well … nothing was ventured so nothing was gained, and the resulting film serves more as a testimony to cheap storytelling than anything culturally or socially relevant.
The Devil’s Partner (1960) was produced by Huron Productions, Inc. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Film Masters. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the provided sights-and-sounds to what’s reported as an all-new 4K restoration from original 35mm archival elements to be mostly solid. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts two video presentations (16:9 or 4:3), an audio commentary, some supporting documentary features, and a recut trailer for this new transfer. The packaging also includes some companion essays regarding this and a second feature provided with the set.
Alas … this one’s only mildly recommended.
Wow. What a stunningly wasted opportunity for what could’ve been, minimally, a genre entry into the growing film industry of the small-town melodrama. The Devil’s Partner squanders a clever idea with so much banal delivery. Heck, even a mildly talented community theatre cast could’ve done more if they had only been tempted with a stronger script. This one winds up feeling half-baked even though it didn’t need to turn out that way on screens big or small. A bit more time and a bit more effort could’ve had this one being a contender for fan attention … but as it stands it all feels a bit more misguided than anything else.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Masters provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Devil’s Partner 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
Sadly, the script never even gives any single player a scene or two of substance. What with the suggestion of controversy, a rational thinker might anticipate a sequence of shouting or disagreement; and yet it’s only a spectrally influenced dog attack that gets the blood flowing (yes, pun intended). Richards tries to muster up some Machiavellian ploy by using a few folks to achieve his dark ends, but even those get brushed over without any greater context much less discussion. The small cast all show up and hit their respective marks, no one actor or actress ever trying to eek out a bit of subtext to any suggestion of wider tension. The late Edgar Buchanan gets a few scenes as the town doctor who ends up calling the shots – heck, even the town sheriff pretty much answers to him, it would seem – making this 73-minute feel like it was longer than needed and more than desired in its final reel.
This isn’t to suggest in any way that being a product of its era kept Partner from being as impactful as it could have been. Features like 1955’s East Of Eden or even 1958’s Cat On A Hot Tin Roof effectively pulled the Hollywood veneer off of the ‘Great American Family,’ and 1957’s Peyton Place is highly regarded for suggesting that small town life might conceal a great many activities we culturally would rather ignore. Coming on the heels of such cinematic triumphs, Partner could very easily have pushed the emotional envelope further than it tried – even with its mystic backdrop of sacrifice and Satanic ritual – and achieved solid results. The problem here is that … well … nothing was ventured so nothing was gained, and the resulting film serves more as a testimony to cheap storytelling than anything culturally or socially relevant.
The Devil’s Partner (1960) was produced by Huron Productions, Inc. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Film Masters. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the provided sights-and-sounds to what’s reported as an all-new 4K restoration from original 35mm archival elements to be mostly solid. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts two video presentations (16:9 or 4:3), an audio commentary, some supporting documentary features, and a recut trailer for this new transfer. The packaging also includes some companion essays regarding this and a second feature provided with the set.
Alas … this one’s only mildly recommended.
Wow. What a stunningly wasted opportunity for what could’ve been, minimally, a genre entry into the growing film industry of the small-town melodrama. The Devil’s Partner squanders a clever idea with so much banal delivery. Heck, even a mildly talented community theatre cast could’ve done more if they had only been tempted with a stronger script. This one winds up feeling half-baked even though it didn’t need to turn out that way on screens big or small. A bit more time and a bit more effort could’ve had this one being a contender for fan attention … but as it stands it all feels a bit more misguided than anything else.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Masters provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Devil’s Partner 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
It goes without saying that the emergence and expansion of Special Effects in film has pushed the door wide open for storytellers looking to craft worlds rarely if ever seen before.
A great deal of credit for such reliance on effects works gets attributed back to George Lucas’ Star Wars (1977), and why not? Catapulting audiences to a galaxy far, far away had rarely looked so keen and inviting as it did in that landmark space saga. Naturally, the flick inspired others to follow in those footsteps, and – only a handful of years later – viewers had been supplied with the people, places, and things only previously possible in the pages of a comic book or graphic novel. In fact, it really wasn’t all that long before effects work started showing up in more conventional fare where the change of a city landscape or the catastrophic wreck of automobiles or the power of a Category 5 tornado was needed to ‘sell the sizzle’ of a dramatic sequence. Audiences appreciate a spectacle, so why not push the envelope as far as was technologically possible?
However, there have been some who have warned that this increase of augmenting images in post-production might inevitably cheapen stories to the point wherein it was no longer required to render human stories on film when they could be – as it’s often said – “fixed in post” (meaning post-production). Simply put, there’s no amount of visual trickery that can elevate an otherwise authentically dull story, but that’s never stopped Hollywood and others from trying. To a degree, that’s what I sensed with 2018’s Mute, a futuristic neo-noir from writer/director Duncan Jones that never quite makes sense the way I suspect those behind-the-scenes thought it could, would, or should. There’s a curious reliance on effects that, quite frankly, didn’t need to be there as the breadth of its ‘land of tomorrow’ aspect winds up being more confusing than supportive.
In its place remains a human undercurrent that feels as manufactured as do many of its visuals, thus cheapening the experience that should’ve been vastly superior than the sum of its parts.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A mute bartender goes up against his city’s gangsters in an effort to find out what happened to his missing partner.”
A great deal of credit for such reliance on effects works gets attributed back to George Lucas’ Star Wars (1977), and why not? Catapulting audiences to a galaxy far, far away had rarely looked so keen and inviting as it did in that landmark space saga. Naturally, the flick inspired others to follow in those footsteps, and – only a handful of years later – viewers had been supplied with the people, places, and things only previously possible in the pages of a comic book or graphic novel. In fact, it really wasn’t all that long before effects work started showing up in more conventional fare where the change of a city landscape or the catastrophic wreck of automobiles or the power of a Category 5 tornado was needed to ‘sell the sizzle’ of a dramatic sequence. Audiences appreciate a spectacle, so why not push the envelope as far as was technologically possible?
However, there have been some who have warned that this increase of augmenting images in post-production might inevitably cheapen stories to the point wherein it was no longer required to render human stories on film when they could be – as it’s often said – “fixed in post” (meaning post-production). Simply put, there’s no amount of visual trickery that can elevate an otherwise authentically dull story, but that’s never stopped Hollywood and others from trying. To a degree, that’s what I sensed with 2018’s Mute, a futuristic neo-noir from writer/director Duncan Jones that never quite makes sense the way I suspect those behind-the-scenes thought it could, would, or should. There’s a curious reliance on effects that, quite frankly, didn’t need to be there as the breadth of its ‘land of tomorrow’ aspect winds up being more confusing than supportive.
In its place remains a human undercurrent that feels as manufactured as do many of its visuals, thus cheapening the experience that should’ve been vastly superior than the sum of its parts.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A mute bartender goes up against his city’s gangsters in an effort to find out what happened to his missing partner.”
On the whole, I’m a huge fan of effects work. Yet, when I see so much of it as curiously underwhelming as was what was brought and paid for in Mute I’ll always push back. Succinctly put, if all you can afford are some mildly cartoonish inserts here and there, then perhaps the entire picture should’ve been rendered in CGI? There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that – indeed, it’s grand enough for Saturday morning kids programming – and maybe – with some trimming here and there – the resulting cut of this story might’ve built a cult audience. But … in this package? Yeah. Color me a bit cynical.
Director Jones literally packed Mute to the gills with far too many ideas for viewers to make the level of sense required with a single viewing. There’s an overabundance to every aspect of this – all of it made more curious by the obvious fact that our lead character is Amish – and a bit of streamlining might’ve served everyone involved to a good degree. I’ve read that this was a long-gestating story he was thrilled to finally bring to life, but there are pieces of it that just make so little sense. Besides operating on a shorthand as to when and where this particular future is, the film jumbles its politics in ways that don’t quite make for smooth sailing. At times, it’s decidedly anti-American without clearly spelling out what the big beef is with the United States, and I can’t help but wonder if it needed a few more years ‘gestating’ in order for the perfect incarnation of this plot to rise in the cinematic oven.
As a young boy, Leo (played by Alexander Skarsgård) was involved in a gruesome boating accident that robbed him of his ability to speak. While this disadvantage might’ve sidelined others into a life of misery, Leo grew up and, eventually, left the farm in favor of life in the big city (though we’ve never told why). He exists still clinging to his humble ways – a simple apartment, simple inelegant clothes, an almost miserly existence – and has found employment in a posh nightclub as a bartender. He’s even found love in the arms of Naadirah (Seyneb Saleh), but it’s her sudden disappearance that throws him into disarray. He’ll stop at nothing to find what happened to her, even at the risk of his own safety when crossing paths with some of the big city’s unsavory types becomes necessary to get to the bottom of it all.
With neo-noirs, it’s also safe to suggest that audiences have quite possibly seen this story before.
The disappearance of one’s loved ones has fueled a great many films, so this construct truly needed something extra to deliver the necessary freshness. Sadly, this is where Jones hugely misses the mark, perhaps hoping to simply distract his audience with a world that occasionally seems similar to, say, 1982’s Blade Runner, 1988’s Akira, or 2002’s Minority Report. While those environments were tied thematically to their respective subject matter, Mute lacks such direct association to the land of tomorrow, instead using it as a backdrop for what central story could honestly have been told today or even a few decades ago. Having little to no intrinsic need for this to be futuristic – except for the purposes of utilizing the gadgetry – hollows out the thematic core much in the same way having a character robbed of speech kinda/sorta guts that person, requiring them to find alternative methods to communicating their needs, wants, and desires. As much care that went into crafted Skarsgård’s performance was needed with everything else in here … and that just never happens.
Director Jones literally packed Mute to the gills with far too many ideas for viewers to make the level of sense required with a single viewing. There’s an overabundance to every aspect of this – all of it made more curious by the obvious fact that our lead character is Amish – and a bit of streamlining might’ve served everyone involved to a good degree. I’ve read that this was a long-gestating story he was thrilled to finally bring to life, but there are pieces of it that just make so little sense. Besides operating on a shorthand as to when and where this particular future is, the film jumbles its politics in ways that don’t quite make for smooth sailing. At times, it’s decidedly anti-American without clearly spelling out what the big beef is with the United States, and I can’t help but wonder if it needed a few more years ‘gestating’ in order for the perfect incarnation of this plot to rise in the cinematic oven.
As a young boy, Leo (played by Alexander Skarsgård) was involved in a gruesome boating accident that robbed him of his ability to speak. While this disadvantage might’ve sidelined others into a life of misery, Leo grew up and, eventually, left the farm in favor of life in the big city (though we’ve never told why). He exists still clinging to his humble ways – a simple apartment, simple inelegant clothes, an almost miserly existence – and has found employment in a posh nightclub as a bartender. He’s even found love in the arms of Naadirah (Seyneb Saleh), but it’s her sudden disappearance that throws him into disarray. He’ll stop at nothing to find what happened to her, even at the risk of his own safety when crossing paths with some of the big city’s unsavory types becomes necessary to get to the bottom of it all.
With neo-noirs, it’s also safe to suggest that audiences have quite possibly seen this story before.
The disappearance of one’s loved ones has fueled a great many films, so this construct truly needed something extra to deliver the necessary freshness. Sadly, this is where Jones hugely misses the mark, perhaps hoping to simply distract his audience with a world that occasionally seems similar to, say, 1982’s Blade Runner, 1988’s Akira, or 2002’s Minority Report. While those environments were tied thematically to their respective subject matter, Mute lacks such direct association to the land of tomorrow, instead using it as a backdrop for what central story could honestly have been told today or even a few decades ago. Having little to no intrinsic need for this to be futuristic – except for the purposes of utilizing the gadgetry – hollows out the thematic core much in the same way having a character robbed of speech kinda/sorta guts that person, requiring them to find alternative methods to communicating their needs, wants, and desires. As much care that went into crafted Skarsgård’s performance was needed with everything else in here … and that just never happens.
And … funnyman Paul Rudd?
As your villain?
Look: I’m not one to pick on poor casting decisions. Not every Thespian is up to every challenge of every role ever caught on film. In fact, I’ve often argued that hiring comedians and/or comic actors in dramatic roles is a bit of inspired genius here and there because it gives the talent and the audiences an opportunity to see and experience moments from a vastly different perspective. However, Rudd – as the curiously named Cactus Bill – never quite fills the shoes of this bad-ass character here – an AWOL American soldier who’ll stop at nothing to get back home (again, why?, cause America’s so bad, I thought) – and his work here feels … erm … wildly uncentered and formulaic. He cares deeply for his daughter but not so much to keep her away from the city’s underbelly. Why not? He wants nothing more than to leave this life behind and yet continues to invest in the same behaviors and choices that made this life his normalcy. Why not? But when your shoulders aren’t up to the weight necessary to elevate the motion picture, then you’re just wrong for the part. It’s honestly that simple.
This lack of cohesiveness pervades every single frame of Mute to the point of perhaps confusing viewers about the storyteller’s honest intentions rather than illuminating the brilliance of such choices. Clearly, Leo’s affinity to water – despite having been maimed in it – lies at the heart of what Jones wanted to say about the man; and yet I’ve absolutely no idea of what I’m supposed to make of all those scenes. Subtle hints about a man’s nefariousness arguably needed to be a bit more obvious; and maybe then audiences would’ve felt a greater attachment or repulsion when presented. The lack of definitiveness – all spared in favor of some pretty visuals – kills any momentum the film occasionally develops.
Mute (2018) was produced by Liberty Films Entertainment and Studio Babelsberg. The film is presently available via streaming on Netflix. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found a great deal of the provided sights-and-sounds to be very good; however – as I’ve mentioned above – the special effects sequences are of widely varying quality, so much so that several of them appear more than a bit cartoonish and thus distracting to the overall affair. A bit of a misfire, if you ask me. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? As I viewed this on Netflix, there were no special features under consideration.
Alas … only mildly recommended.
Mute (2018) is the kind of experience that might remind viewers of the vastly greater attempts out there made at Future Noir (compliments to the worlds of James Cameron for creating that sub-genre of Science Fiction). Its greatest problem is that it never effectively does anything with those elements, however, instead throwing them in because they look good and constantly serve to remind us that this is another time and another place … when we’ve already been here before. Some effects sequences are even, sadly, wackily underproduced, giving the film an occasionally amateurish quality that also spoils the mood. Maybe if all of this had been done in CGI it might’ve had a greater chance, but … as is? Well, as is it’s a mess.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for this review of Mute (2018) as it’s a film I watched on Netflix via my own subscription to the streaming platform.
-- EZ
As your villain?
Look: I’m not one to pick on poor casting decisions. Not every Thespian is up to every challenge of every role ever caught on film. In fact, I’ve often argued that hiring comedians and/or comic actors in dramatic roles is a bit of inspired genius here and there because it gives the talent and the audiences an opportunity to see and experience moments from a vastly different perspective. However, Rudd – as the curiously named Cactus Bill – never quite fills the shoes of this bad-ass character here – an AWOL American soldier who’ll stop at nothing to get back home (again, why?, cause America’s so bad, I thought) – and his work here feels … erm … wildly uncentered and formulaic. He cares deeply for his daughter but not so much to keep her away from the city’s underbelly. Why not? He wants nothing more than to leave this life behind and yet continues to invest in the same behaviors and choices that made this life his normalcy. Why not? But when your shoulders aren’t up to the weight necessary to elevate the motion picture, then you’re just wrong for the part. It’s honestly that simple.
This lack of cohesiveness pervades every single frame of Mute to the point of perhaps confusing viewers about the storyteller’s honest intentions rather than illuminating the brilliance of such choices. Clearly, Leo’s affinity to water – despite having been maimed in it – lies at the heart of what Jones wanted to say about the man; and yet I’ve absolutely no idea of what I’m supposed to make of all those scenes. Subtle hints about a man’s nefariousness arguably needed to be a bit more obvious; and maybe then audiences would’ve felt a greater attachment or repulsion when presented. The lack of definitiveness – all spared in favor of some pretty visuals – kills any momentum the film occasionally develops.
Mute (2018) was produced by Liberty Films Entertainment and Studio Babelsberg. The film is presently available via streaming on Netflix. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found a great deal of the provided sights-and-sounds to be very good; however – as I’ve mentioned above – the special effects sequences are of widely varying quality, so much so that several of them appear more than a bit cartoonish and thus distracting to the overall affair. A bit of a misfire, if you ask me. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? As I viewed this on Netflix, there were no special features under consideration.
Alas … only mildly recommended.
Mute (2018) is the kind of experience that might remind viewers of the vastly greater attempts out there made at Future Noir (compliments to the worlds of James Cameron for creating that sub-genre of Science Fiction). Its greatest problem is that it never effectively does anything with those elements, however, instead throwing them in because they look good and constantly serve to remind us that this is another time and another place … when we’ve already been here before. Some effects sequences are even, sadly, wackily underproduced, giving the film an occasionally amateurish quality that also spoils the mood. Maybe if all of this had been done in CGI it might’ve had a greater chance, but … as is? Well, as is it’s a mess.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for this review of Mute (2018) as it’s a film I watched on Netflix via my own subscription to the streaming platform.
-- EZ
- Published on
Good morning, gentle readers, and welcome to the start of a brand-new week! Here's hoping that your weekend was delightful, and it gave you the proper rejuvenation required to give you the energy you need to combat this brand-new week of challenges! I know mine was pretty good, and speaking of which ...
I don't often put up photos of me and the wifey, but here's one from this past Saturday. The local small airport had an event they called 'Airport Dayz,' and it's been quite a few years since they had one. Years back, the organizer would have all of these old-time and experimental aircraft lined up around the field/tarmack/etc., and they'd open the doors for members of the general public to come in and check them out. Well, from what we now understand, I think it was the event organizer passed away ... and then COVID came along, changing the way we could go out and about in public ... but now the city finally found a way to have one again. I took some snaps of the planes and whatnot, but the wifey and I did a selfie in front of one of the cooler helicopters on the field. It wasn't as big or as elaborate as it's been in the past, but it was still a great morning to walk amongst these birds and hear some stories.
If I find the time, I'll post a few of my pics. Gotta find the time, though. Still playing catch-up on some reviews from last week.
If I find the time, I'll post a few of my pics. Gotta find the time, though. Still playing catch-up on some reviews from last week.
I know, I know, I know. That contingent of you who love to tell me (of all people) what is and isn't Science Fiction are likely boiling over in your seats this morning as I'm posting the birthday of one of my favorite shows of the bygone era -- CBS's Airwolf -- for posterity's sake.
I can hear you: "That's not Science Fiction!"
Well, when you have the stones to go and set-up your own SciFi, Fantasy, and Horror blog, then you can do what you want with it. Me? I tend to have a broader appreciation of genre entertainment as a whole, and Airwolf certainly fits within the parameters that I've established. Any exploration of a high-tech experimental aircraft deserves a bit of coverage in this space -- so far as I care -- and you can just like it or lump it, as they say.
I'll give you that the show was imperfect. It's difficult to craft stories that truly push the bar technologically on a weekly basis -- what with the budgetary constraints of broadcast TV -- but creator Donald Bellisario did what he could in the time and place. Airwolf had some wonderful action brought to life with a fabulous cast -- the late Jan-Michael Vincent and Ernest Borgnine joined consistently by the great Alex Cord -- and it was appointment viewing for a great portion of its run on the Boob Tube for yours truly.
I can hear you: "That's not Science Fiction!"
Well, when you have the stones to go and set-up your own SciFi, Fantasy, and Horror blog, then you can do what you want with it. Me? I tend to have a broader appreciation of genre entertainment as a whole, and Airwolf certainly fits within the parameters that I've established. Any exploration of a high-tech experimental aircraft deserves a bit of coverage in this space -- so far as I care -- and you can just like it or lump it, as they say.
I'll give you that the show was imperfect. It's difficult to craft stories that truly push the bar technologically on a weekly basis -- what with the budgetary constraints of broadcast TV -- but creator Donald Bellisario did what he could in the time and place. Airwolf had some wonderful action brought to life with a fabulous cast -- the late Jan-Michael Vincent and Ernest Borgnine joined consistently by the great Alex Cord -- and it was appointment viewing for a great portion of its run on the Boob Tube for yours truly.
Of course, I'm showing my age a bit with this post this morning, especially as it comes to 1970's and 1980's intellectual properties ... and still I have to give a proper shout to the late Bill Bixby.
For those of you who don't know it, Bixby headlined one of the greatest genre shows to hit the airwaves: on a weekly basis, The Incredible Hulk went about trying to dispense a brand of TV-grade justice when regular methods failed to deliver. Yes, you didn't want to make him mad -- you wouldn't like him when he got mad -- but -- sigh -- it happened routinely, turning audiences green with envy. (See what I did there?) I guess it's safe to say Gamma Radiation somehow stood on the right side of history; but it was Bixby's endearing humanity that gave so much of the serialized Hulk its true muscles, showing audiences that caring for one's fellow men, women, and children was a worthwhile occupation. Maybe it's best that you think of him as Jack Reacher -- wandering the great American plateau -- but well before Reacher was in the same business.
It's a fabulous show that pretty much set the bar about as high as you can go for TV-grade comic book adaptations; and its respect endures even to this day.
Check it out, if you're so inclined.
Happy birthday, Mr. Bixby ... wherever you may be in the great cosmos out there.
For those of you who don't know it, Bixby headlined one of the greatest genre shows to hit the airwaves: on a weekly basis, The Incredible Hulk went about trying to dispense a brand of TV-grade justice when regular methods failed to deliver. Yes, you didn't want to make him mad -- you wouldn't like him when he got mad -- but -- sigh -- it happened routinely, turning audiences green with envy. (See what I did there?) I guess it's safe to say Gamma Radiation somehow stood on the right side of history; but it was Bixby's endearing humanity that gave so much of the serialized Hulk its true muscles, showing audiences that caring for one's fellow men, women, and children was a worthwhile occupation. Maybe it's best that you think of him as Jack Reacher -- wandering the great American plateau -- but well before Reacher was in the same business.
It's a fabulous show that pretty much set the bar about as high as you can go for TV-grade comic book adaptations; and its respect endures even to this day.
Check it out, if you're so inclined.
Happy birthday, Mr. Bixby ... wherever you may be in the great cosmos out there.
Of course, there's more. There may be not as much as I'd like more up there for the day, but rest assured that I'm always doing my due diligence to add items to the site. If you know of any regarding today, please reach out and let me know. I have quite a bit in my archives -- and I'll be posting some newbies this afternoon -- but I'm always on-the-lookout for late-breaking additions.
Here's what you want, and you know you want it ...
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, and welcome to ... FRIDAY!
(Cue your favorite party-dancing track)
Well, another week is on the cusp of being done and gone, putting up squarely in the mindset to celebrate another weekend. It feels good, doesn't it? It feels grand to know that all you need is a couple days off, and they're here? (Well, those of you who don't work weekends, that is.) Whatever the case and wherever you may be, here's hoping that life is well on-the-path to giving you everything you've ever wanted and everything you deserve.
HAPPY FRIDAY!
I'm puttering away this morning on a review or two. I did manage to squeeze up one of my 'recovered reviews' from my days at Amazon.com for a flick called Sleep Dealer. Honestly, my review is a bit light on the substance on the film, and that's mostly because I recall being mildly put off by its somewhat obvious and somewhat lazy politics. I enjoyed it -- don't make any mistake on that front -- but I did have to set aside my own persuasions in order to truly do that. It's still definitely worth a watch -- that's strongly encouraged for folks who enjoy independent Science Fiction because this one was reasonably low budget -- and it gets a thumbs up from me. Maybe I'll pull it out some day in the future and revisit it for more depth. We'll see.
(Cue your favorite party-dancing track)
Well, another week is on the cusp of being done and gone, putting up squarely in the mindset to celebrate another weekend. It feels good, doesn't it? It feels grand to know that all you need is a couple days off, and they're here? (Well, those of you who don't work weekends, that is.) Whatever the case and wherever you may be, here's hoping that life is well on-the-path to giving you everything you've ever wanted and everything you deserve.
HAPPY FRIDAY!
I'm puttering away this morning on a review or two. I did manage to squeeze up one of my 'recovered reviews' from my days at Amazon.com for a flick called Sleep Dealer. Honestly, my review is a bit light on the substance on the film, and that's mostly because I recall being mildly put off by its somewhat obvious and somewhat lazy politics. I enjoyed it -- don't make any mistake on that front -- but I did have to set aside my own persuasions in order to truly do that. It's still definitely worth a watch -- that's strongly encouraged for folks who enjoy independent Science Fiction because this one was reasonably low budget -- and it gets a thumbs up from me. Maybe I'll pull it out some day in the future and revisit it for more depth. We'll see.
Not all that long back, I traded words with a fellow on Twitter (now called X for some reason) who was insisting that there was no such thing as a 'perfect film.'
Ahem.
While I certainly understand where the gentleman was coming from (basically, he was trying to come to the defense of a film but could've probably taken a less controversial approach), I strongly -- very strongly -- disagree with him, so much so that I even offered up a short list of perfect films that I could think of just off the top of my head. Today, I'm surprised that I failed to mention 1990's Tremors amongst one of the big screens shots of perfection because that film was and remains a work of pure theatrical art.
Yes, yes, and yes: I can hear you arguing otherwise, much like a thousand voices crying out suddenly going silent, but -- apologies -- you're wrong. Tremors is as perfect as any genre film can get. It resonates on a level with audiences that few flicks do; and decades later the audiences who find it continue to wonder why they've either never heard about it more often or never found it until now. Its script works efficiently. Its characters are authentic. Its pacing is not to be trifled with. In fact, there's absolutely nothing about the motion picture that would ever need to be changed. Kevin Bacon and Fred Ward were silver screen magic -- along with a cast of assorted victims and survivors, alike -- and it remains one of the industry's crowning achievements on every conceivable level.
Well ...
The truth about Tremors is that it wasn't exactly a box office sensation. (FYI: neither was the highly regarded Citizen Kane from 1941, often cited as the highwater mark for all of filmdom.) While there are a handful of arguments as to how and why it escaped so much praise in that first theatrical run, the truth is it's a picture that defies formula -- it's part Comedy, part Science Fiction, part Fantasy, part Horror, etc. -- so advertisers and critics perhaps didn't quite know what to make of it at the time. Still, I've always said that this kinda/sorta wacky assemblage of parts made it a bit of a mutt -- a little bit of everything possible -- much in the same way its two heroes don't exactly have heroic pedigrees in any regard. Thematically and textually, it's perfectly balanced ... and if you haven't seen it then watch it today on its anniversary.
Ahem.
While I certainly understand where the gentleman was coming from (basically, he was trying to come to the defense of a film but could've probably taken a less controversial approach), I strongly -- very strongly -- disagree with him, so much so that I even offered up a short list of perfect films that I could think of just off the top of my head. Today, I'm surprised that I failed to mention 1990's Tremors amongst one of the big screens shots of perfection because that film was and remains a work of pure theatrical art.
Yes, yes, and yes: I can hear you arguing otherwise, much like a thousand voices crying out suddenly going silent, but -- apologies -- you're wrong. Tremors is as perfect as any genre film can get. It resonates on a level with audiences that few flicks do; and decades later the audiences who find it continue to wonder why they've either never heard about it more often or never found it until now. Its script works efficiently. Its characters are authentic. Its pacing is not to be trifled with. In fact, there's absolutely nothing about the motion picture that would ever need to be changed. Kevin Bacon and Fred Ward were silver screen magic -- along with a cast of assorted victims and survivors, alike -- and it remains one of the industry's crowning achievements on every conceivable level.
Well ...
The truth about Tremors is that it wasn't exactly a box office sensation. (FYI: neither was the highly regarded Citizen Kane from 1941, often cited as the highwater mark for all of filmdom.) While there are a handful of arguments as to how and why it escaped so much praise in that first theatrical run, the truth is it's a picture that defies formula -- it's part Comedy, part Science Fiction, part Fantasy, part Horror, etc. -- so advertisers and critics perhaps didn't quite know what to make of it at the time. Still, I've always said that this kinda/sorta wacky assemblage of parts made it a bit of a mutt -- a little bit of everything possible -- much in the same way its two heroes don't exactly have heroic pedigrees in any regard. Thematically and textually, it's perfectly balanced ... and if you haven't seen it then watch it today on its anniversary.
Also, it wasn't all that long ago that I penned a small observation about the highest regarded episodes of the television Science Fiction classic, Star Trek.
No, no, and no: I don't remember the context exactly, but I believe I was trying to point out how some of the original series' run had a solid handful of adventures that -- even though dated by today's standards -- still strike the right chord with viewers even decades later. One such installment was "Arena," and this hour first aired on this day all the way back in 1967.
Now ... ahem ... I'm not gonna suggest in any way that this alien creature -- the Gorn -- was delivered an endearingly as it could have been. You have to keep in mind that creature effects from the 1950's and 1960's were a bit of an acquired taste. These producers couldn't exactly run out to the nearest costume shop and purchase an alien warrior suit 'off the rack,' so there's something to be said for the level of ingenuity that did show up on the small screen. Even to this day, the Gorn remains one of Trek's signature species. Star Trek: Strange New Worlds has kinda/sorta cheapened its legacy by taking it in a vastly different thematic direction, but -- for its place and time -- this lumbering lizard-like monster with its maw of pointed teeth was good enough for those who us who liked to go where no man had gone before.
Welcome to the International Day of the Gorn, fellow readers. Go on out and 'hug a Gorn' today because I said so.
No, no, and no: I don't remember the context exactly, but I believe I was trying to point out how some of the original series' run had a solid handful of adventures that -- even though dated by today's standards -- still strike the right chord with viewers even decades later. One such installment was "Arena," and this hour first aired on this day all the way back in 1967.
Now ... ahem ... I'm not gonna suggest in any way that this alien creature -- the Gorn -- was delivered an endearingly as it could have been. You have to keep in mind that creature effects from the 1950's and 1960's were a bit of an acquired taste. These producers couldn't exactly run out to the nearest costume shop and purchase an alien warrior suit 'off the rack,' so there's something to be said for the level of ingenuity that did show up on the small screen. Even to this day, the Gorn remains one of Trek's signature species. Star Trek: Strange New Worlds has kinda/sorta cheapened its legacy by taking it in a vastly different thematic direction, but -- for its place and time -- this lumbering lizard-like monster with its maw of pointed teeth was good enough for those who us who liked to go where no man had gone before.
Welcome to the International Day of the Gorn, fellow readers. Go on out and 'hug a Gorn' today because I said so.
And ... par for the course? There's more. In fact, there's a lot more for you to explore on the Daily Citation Page from SciFiHistory.Net, and you're encouraged to do so at your leisure right now ...
Seriously, folks, as I always say: THANK YOU for reading ... THANK YOU for sharing ... THANK YOU for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
The absolute brilliance of quality Science Fiction is that it almost always uses the future – either a distant tomorrow or the one lurking right around the corner – to tell us something about who we are today.
In the late 1960’s, Gene Roddenberry’s Star Trek did this uniquely well for television audiences. Several major motion pictures in the last few decades have done similarly; you can add Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner (1982), Alfonso Cuaron’s Children Of Men (2006), and even Neill Blomkamp’s District 9 (2009) to that growing list of films posting stark visions of what the future – near or far – may hold. In the past few years, a few others have once again ignited that trend – Kristina Buozyte’s Vanishing Waves (2012), Brandon Cronenberg’s Antiviral (2012), and Shane Carruth’s Upstream Color (2013) come to mind as smaller, quieter prospects that may’ve escaped the attention of bigger pictures – and it looks like there will be more and more for inquiring minds in the decades ahead.
However, a film from 2008 completely slipped past me in this regard.
As closely as I follow SciFi and Fantasy in particular, I was surprised that I’d never even heard of Alex Rivera’s Sleep Dealer. It earned a good amount of positive praise from screenings on the film festival circuit; but perhaps its U.S. theatrical presence was limited in scope. Still, given the film’s politics – or, at least, the particular leanings of the project’s writer/director – it probably didn’t get much coverage from media outlets I tend to frequent these days. That’s sad because I think both its story and message resonate on a level all connoisseurs of fine film can appreciate no matter which side of the aisle they choose.
(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 two paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“The near future. Like tomorrow. In a world marked by closed borders, corporate warriors, and a global computer network, three strangers risk their lives to connect, break through the barriers of technology, and unseal their fates.”
Just around the corner from today, major countries around the globe have taken a definitive stand against terrorism, completely securing their borders from unauthorized entry. In order for the United States to continue employing low-skilled labor for its various factories and construction projects, they’ve begun utilizing robots operated by drone-like technology, allowing those workers to continue to come from either Third World or other under-developed places. Behind the wall securing Mexico, Memo Cruz (played by Luis Fernando Pena) leaves a lifetime of family history in farming behind after his father is accidentally killed in a military strike; in the city, he’ll need to become wet-wired for service if he’s going to find a job and support his poor relatives back home in their hut.
I’m going to say this once, so pay attention all those who think I disagree with the politics of Sleep Dealer: generally speaking, I disagree with them. Wholeheartedly. And with great conviction.
That said, I can still turn off my political filters and appreciate a good story as much as the next person, and, when it comes to weaving an incredibly profound politically-infused drama, writer/director Alex Rivera has tapped a solid vein here and has let it spill out on the screen. He’s populated this flick with real people – folks who have to work in order to survive, and it’s been my experience that those people take said work very, very seriously – and that helped the narrative transcend most of his script’s political posturing.
(Do I know that Rivera is anti-U.S.? Well, if his story is any indication, then I really don’t need to ask him. That’s just my two cents.)
In the late 1960’s, Gene Roddenberry’s Star Trek did this uniquely well for television audiences. Several major motion pictures in the last few decades have done similarly; you can add Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner (1982), Alfonso Cuaron’s Children Of Men (2006), and even Neill Blomkamp’s District 9 (2009) to that growing list of films posting stark visions of what the future – near or far – may hold. In the past few years, a few others have once again ignited that trend – Kristina Buozyte’s Vanishing Waves (2012), Brandon Cronenberg’s Antiviral (2012), and Shane Carruth’s Upstream Color (2013) come to mind as smaller, quieter prospects that may’ve escaped the attention of bigger pictures – and it looks like there will be more and more for inquiring minds in the decades ahead.
However, a film from 2008 completely slipped past me in this regard.
As closely as I follow SciFi and Fantasy in particular, I was surprised that I’d never even heard of Alex Rivera’s Sleep Dealer. It earned a good amount of positive praise from screenings on the film festival circuit; but perhaps its U.S. theatrical presence was limited in scope. Still, given the film’s politics – or, at least, the particular leanings of the project’s writer/director – it probably didn’t get much coverage from media outlets I tend to frequent these days. That’s sad because I think both its story and message resonate on a level all connoisseurs of fine film can appreciate no matter which side of the aisle they choose.
(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 two paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“The near future. Like tomorrow. In a world marked by closed borders, corporate warriors, and a global computer network, three strangers risk their lives to connect, break through the barriers of technology, and unseal their fates.”
Just around the corner from today, major countries around the globe have taken a definitive stand against terrorism, completely securing their borders from unauthorized entry. In order for the United States to continue employing low-skilled labor for its various factories and construction projects, they’ve begun utilizing robots operated by drone-like technology, allowing those workers to continue to come from either Third World or other under-developed places. Behind the wall securing Mexico, Memo Cruz (played by Luis Fernando Pena) leaves a lifetime of family history in farming behind after his father is accidentally killed in a military strike; in the city, he’ll need to become wet-wired for service if he’s going to find a job and support his poor relatives back home in their hut.
I’m going to say this once, so pay attention all those who think I disagree with the politics of Sleep Dealer: generally speaking, I disagree with them. Wholeheartedly. And with great conviction.
That said, I can still turn off my political filters and appreciate a good story as much as the next person, and, when it comes to weaving an incredibly profound politically-infused drama, writer/director Alex Rivera has tapped a solid vein here and has let it spill out on the screen. He’s populated this flick with real people – folks who have to work in order to survive, and it’s been my experience that those people take said work very, very seriously – and that helped the narrative transcend most of his script’s political posturing.
(Do I know that Rivera is anti-U.S.? Well, if his story is any indication, then I really don’t need to ask him. That’s just my two cents.)
However, the use of the War on Terror – presumably that’s what causes the U.S. and other countries to seal their respective borders – in creating this world never reasonably rises above the level of a metaphor here. In fact, there’s no real war to speak of in the entire motion picture; what audiences are instead treated to are companies using centuries-old war-mongering technology in order to protect their ‘national’ or ‘international’ or ‘intellectual’ property, so one might argue that Rivera’s true target here isn’t big business as opposed to the Land of the Free. Because the metaphor stays largely in the background, it’s easy to push it aside and focus in on the fragile lives these flawed people lead, and that’s the stuff of good, relatable drama. I’d encourage viewers to do the same – don’t see this as anything necessarily pro-Mexico versus anti-America – and you’ll probably enjoy the story as much as I did.
I’d be remiss in my duties if I failed to point out that Sleep Dealer has been the recipient of some pretty tremendous industry praise. Pictures that use politics – even if only a small part of the narrative backdrop – do tend to draw attention from industry organizations and film festivals, and why not? These folks exist to push their messages, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. The film won the Amnesty International Film Prize at the 2008 Berlin International Film Festival, as well as racking up wins for the Alfred P. Sloan Feature Film Prize and the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award from the 2008 Sundance Film Festival. Also in 2008, Dealer won the Narcisse Award from the 2008 Neuchatel International Fantasy Film Festival. To top that off, it picked up a solid handful of other nominations from other reputable outlets, the most of which went toward Rivera’s resume as a storyteller.
(I only ask those of you who follow the ‘biz’ keep in mind that many of those accolades come as a result of the politics of the story – it’s fairly anti-U.S. or anti-U.S. interests, as are most working in the film criticism community. Truth hurts … but there ya go.)
Sleep Dealer (2008) is produced by Likely Story and This Is That Productions. DVD distribution (stateside) was handled via Maya Entertainment. For those needing it spelled out perfectly, this is an Española-spoken-language release with English subtitles available. (There is no English-dubbed track.) For those watching closely, though, you’ll see that there is a fair amount of English sprinkled throughout the picture. As for the technical specifications, the sights and sounds are very good; unless I miss my guess, there’s a fair amount of grain in some of the shots, and I can’t help but wonder if that was a deliberate choice on Rivera’s part, especially given the fact that much of this takes place in backwater Mexico and Tijuana. If it’s special features you’re interested in, then you have an audio commentary from Rivera to look forward to, along with a brief (12 min.) short about what efforts the director took in order to bring his cinematic vision to life.
Highly recommended.
While one might easily conclude that director Alex Rivera clearly has some hang-ups regarding the United States’ foreign policy, I kinda/sorta did what I could to check the ‘conscientious objector’ politics at the door and tripped out on the solid SciFi elements to this very human drama. Mind you: this isn’t, say, as accessible as Star Trek. Tonally, this is closer to the aforementioned Vanishing Waves or District 9. And you’ve really gotta hang on ‘til the end to fully appreciate the world he’s been fashioned here. So be warned: the greater masses-at-large may not see Dealer the way I did, and that’s largely because they’ve grown used to too many alien spaceships, transforming robots, and virtual reality wire-fu to see a legitimate SciFi film as a bona fide SciFi film.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Maya Entertainment provided me with a complimentary DVD of Sleep Dealer for the purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
I’d be remiss in my duties if I failed to point out that Sleep Dealer has been the recipient of some pretty tremendous industry praise. Pictures that use politics – even if only a small part of the narrative backdrop – do tend to draw attention from industry organizations and film festivals, and why not? These folks exist to push their messages, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. The film won the Amnesty International Film Prize at the 2008 Berlin International Film Festival, as well as racking up wins for the Alfred P. Sloan Feature Film Prize and the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award from the 2008 Sundance Film Festival. Also in 2008, Dealer won the Narcisse Award from the 2008 Neuchatel International Fantasy Film Festival. To top that off, it picked up a solid handful of other nominations from other reputable outlets, the most of which went toward Rivera’s resume as a storyteller.
(I only ask those of you who follow the ‘biz’ keep in mind that many of those accolades come as a result of the politics of the story – it’s fairly anti-U.S. or anti-U.S. interests, as are most working in the film criticism community. Truth hurts … but there ya go.)
Sleep Dealer (2008) is produced by Likely Story and This Is That Productions. DVD distribution (stateside) was handled via Maya Entertainment. For those needing it spelled out perfectly, this is an Española-spoken-language release with English subtitles available. (There is no English-dubbed track.) For those watching closely, though, you’ll see that there is a fair amount of English sprinkled throughout the picture. As for the technical specifications, the sights and sounds are very good; unless I miss my guess, there’s a fair amount of grain in some of the shots, and I can’t help but wonder if that was a deliberate choice on Rivera’s part, especially given the fact that much of this takes place in backwater Mexico and Tijuana. If it’s special features you’re interested in, then you have an audio commentary from Rivera to look forward to, along with a brief (12 min.) short about what efforts the director took in order to bring his cinematic vision to life.
Highly recommended.
While one might easily conclude that director Alex Rivera clearly has some hang-ups regarding the United States’ foreign policy, I kinda/sorta did what I could to check the ‘conscientious objector’ politics at the door and tripped out on the solid SciFi elements to this very human drama. Mind you: this isn’t, say, as accessible as Star Trek. Tonally, this is closer to the aforementioned Vanishing Waves or District 9. And you’ve really gotta hang on ‘til the end to fully appreciate the world he’s been fashioned here. So be warned: the greater masses-at-large may not see Dealer the way I did, and that’s largely because they’ve grown used to too many alien spaceships, transforming robots, and virtual reality wire-fu to see a legitimate SciFi film as a bona fide SciFi film.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Maya Entertainment provided me with a complimentary DVD of Sleep Dealer for the purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
In the mid-1980’s, there was a glorious B-Movie unleashed upon unsuspecting audiences, and it went by the name of Chopping Mall.
Written and directed by genre auteur Jim Wynorski, Chopping Mall took the location of what was fastly becoming the ultimate place-to-be for young’uns of a certain generation – namely, the great American indoor shopping mall – and recaptured it as a hunting ground for some bloodthirsty technology gone awry. Essentially, some automated mall security guards – not unlike a tank/robot hybrids – were short-circuited by a lightning strike, and they go on a campaign to wipe the stores clean of some sexually-charged teenagers who stayed indoors after closing time. Though the body count was reasonably limited, the film still made paste of these anti-Authority figures. Perhaps its single greatest asset was giving starlets Barbara Crampton and Kelli Maroney the chance to share the screen, and the flick – I’m told – retains a cult audience even to this day.
So the idea of sentient robots wreaking havoc with various meat puppets isn’t exactly anything fresh or new, but that never stopped a storyteller from giving it another whirl. 2024’s Project Dorothy does just that. Written (in part) and directed by George Henry Horton, Dorothy opens its hunting season in the confines of an expansive abandoned factor where years before something robotic went horribly awry: a central Artificial Intelligence rose up with the intention of overthrowing the human race, only to have been shut down somehow before taking our planet. But when two bank robbers on the run seek shelter inside, one of them inadvertently reactivates the program, putting them at odds with a cybernetic aggressor who won’t go silently into the night this time.
What’s more dangerous? Skynet? Or the dude who accidentally turned it back on after it lay dormant for so many years?
You decide.
(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 a botched robbery, two men take refuge in a remote and lifeless scientific facility, inadvertently awakening a monster within.”
Because I can appreciate any number of ‘naughty A.I.’ stories, I was willing to give Project Dorothy a fair screening. It didn’t exactly look like it was going to be anything inventive with the whole ‘machines gone bad’ formula, and it’s safe to say that nothing necessarily groundbreaking was achieved in its 75-minute running time. Sadly, it doesn’t use its resources perhaps as effectively as it could have, and the end result is the picture feels like somewhere inside its bloat there’s actually a very effective short film that vastly better than the long version.
James (played by Tim DeZarn) and Blake (Adam Budron) are ‘on the lam’ from what appears to have been a bank job gone wrong. Hiking across backroads and cornfields, they ultimately stumble upon a massive industrial complex that appears to have been abandoned some time ago. Breaking inside, they do find shelter; but they also begin to suspect that they’re being watched by a force they’ve never encountered before … a sentient program named Dorothy that’s been asleep for a few decades. Now that it’s awake and realizes there’s a whole new world out there that can be infected via WiFi, Dorothy will stop at nothing to secure the stolen laptop in their possession so that she can unleash her darkest desires on the world-at-large.
Well …
The biggest flaw to the script from Horton and Ryan Scaringe is that we, the audience, are never quite let on as to what Dorothy’s deepest and darkest desires for the human race might be. While revenge for having been ‘terminated’ years ago might be the obvious course of action, the film could’ve benefitted from a grander game plan, one that spelled out perfectly where such a threat could’ve taken us. Instead, the premise unspools a bit too predictably and stereotypically for a genre that’s made endless explorations into A.I. gone cray-cray; and, yes, this winds up cheapening the whole technological affair, primitive though its packaging may be.
Written and directed by genre auteur Jim Wynorski, Chopping Mall took the location of what was fastly becoming the ultimate place-to-be for young’uns of a certain generation – namely, the great American indoor shopping mall – and recaptured it as a hunting ground for some bloodthirsty technology gone awry. Essentially, some automated mall security guards – not unlike a tank/robot hybrids – were short-circuited by a lightning strike, and they go on a campaign to wipe the stores clean of some sexually-charged teenagers who stayed indoors after closing time. Though the body count was reasonably limited, the film still made paste of these anti-Authority figures. Perhaps its single greatest asset was giving starlets Barbara Crampton and Kelli Maroney the chance to share the screen, and the flick – I’m told – retains a cult audience even to this day.
So the idea of sentient robots wreaking havoc with various meat puppets isn’t exactly anything fresh or new, but that never stopped a storyteller from giving it another whirl. 2024’s Project Dorothy does just that. Written (in part) and directed by George Henry Horton, Dorothy opens its hunting season in the confines of an expansive abandoned factor where years before something robotic went horribly awry: a central Artificial Intelligence rose up with the intention of overthrowing the human race, only to have been shut down somehow before taking our planet. But when two bank robbers on the run seek shelter inside, one of them inadvertently reactivates the program, putting them at odds with a cybernetic aggressor who won’t go silently into the night this time.
What’s more dangerous? Skynet? Or the dude who accidentally turned it back on after it lay dormant for so many years?
You decide.
(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 a botched robbery, two men take refuge in a remote and lifeless scientific facility, inadvertently awakening a monster within.”
Because I can appreciate any number of ‘naughty A.I.’ stories, I was willing to give Project Dorothy a fair screening. It didn’t exactly look like it was going to be anything inventive with the whole ‘machines gone bad’ formula, and it’s safe to say that nothing necessarily groundbreaking was achieved in its 75-minute running time. Sadly, it doesn’t use its resources perhaps as effectively as it could have, and the end result is the picture feels like somewhere inside its bloat there’s actually a very effective short film that vastly better than the long version.
James (played by Tim DeZarn) and Blake (Adam Budron) are ‘on the lam’ from what appears to have been a bank job gone wrong. Hiking across backroads and cornfields, they ultimately stumble upon a massive industrial complex that appears to have been abandoned some time ago. Breaking inside, they do find shelter; but they also begin to suspect that they’re being watched by a force they’ve never encountered before … a sentient program named Dorothy that’s been asleep for a few decades. Now that it’s awake and realizes there’s a whole new world out there that can be infected via WiFi, Dorothy will stop at nothing to secure the stolen laptop in their possession so that she can unleash her darkest desires on the world-at-large.
Well …
The biggest flaw to the script from Horton and Ryan Scaringe is that we, the audience, are never quite let on as to what Dorothy’s deepest and darkest desires for the human race might be. While revenge for having been ‘terminated’ years ago might be the obvious course of action, the film could’ve benefitted from a grander game plan, one that spelled out perfectly where such a threat could’ve taken us. Instead, the premise unspools a bit too predictably and stereotypically for a genre that’s made endless explorations into A.I. gone cray-cray; and, yes, this winds up cheapening the whole technological affair, primitive though its packaging may be.
Furthermore, Horton’s film gets understandably shackled with many of the same pitfalls that attach themselves to non-studio efforts.
Whereas Chopping Mall’s biggest asset were these fanciful robots that went about their campaign of carnage, all the budget could afford here were some rather limiting forklifts (aka tow motors) that never look all that threatening and, frankly, aren’t all that fast, all that flexible, and all that frightening. (FYI: in case you’ve never been around one, they’re very heavy – have to be in order to accomplish what they do – so their mobility is small in scope.) While the production makes good use of its abandoned facility’s office, expansive caverns, corridors and what have you, none of it either feels all that fearsome – not in the way that James Cameron’s The Terminator (1984) exoskeleton could terrify audiences – so viewers aren’t chilled as vicariously through the lives of these characters as they could’ve been.
Despite having the requisite leanness that could’ve made this thriller work on, at least, some visceral level, Dorothy wastes far too much time in what I suspect were drone-enabled shots of the factory interiors. It’s almost as if Horton and his crew were trying to inject some life into such mechanized lifelessness, hoping to convince you that there was more to this robotic intelligence than meets the eye, but when there isn’t the audience might feel a bit cheated by so much footage promising more yet delivering less. Those are creative decisions made entirely in pre-production or whilst everything was in-process; and I’d argue that greater restraint – and a shorter run-time – would’ve made for a better adventure.
A tremendous asset was casting screen veteran Tim DeZarn in a rare starring appearance. His isn’t a household name – Hollywood is a competitive industry, if nothing else – but no doubt his face is the kind film fans might recognize. (Seriously, he’s been in well over one hundred projects, often times giving a bit of character to an otherwise supporting and/or forgettable bit.) While the material here might have some inherent weaknesses, DeZarn – with a blue collar attitude – soldiers onward and shows he’s always up to the challenge. Even without the greater context for why he’d want to save a world that has cruelly and inevitably pushed him into a life of crime, he still musters the ‘hero thing’ and hatches a plot to see that this Dorothy stays on the farm in Kansas, never getting to the fabled Oz or its yellow brick road that she dreams about beyond those doors. He might be long in the tooth, but he’s definitely got the chops to make this work, and he does even when it all feels a bit … well … loopy.
Also, Project Dorothy opens with a very interesting vision, following up some scenes of mechanized activity with nothing more than a veritable wall of growing corn. The juxtaposition of what man has made – the machines that might destroy them – versus what the Earth has provided – crops to feed and, thus, give them life – couldn’t be more stark, more obvious, and maybe even more timely. It’s this sentiment that I think a good deal more of was needed to give Dorothy – as a film – the resonance she needed to transcend the tried-and-true indie project scene and be something more relevant. The seeds were clearly planted; I just wish what was harvested made for a more fulfilling meal.
Project Dorothy (2024) was produced by Kinogo Pictures and Liberty Atlantic Studios. According to the press materials provided, the film is available (as of January 16, 2024) via streaming and VOD on such platforms as Prime Video, Vudu, Vubiquity, Cox, and Comcast. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the provided sights-and-sounds were, mostly, very solid quality: sadly, there’s some filler sequences meant to display the A.I.’s activity that gets re-used over and over and over, slowing down what little momentum the flick manages to muster all too often. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? As I viewed this one entirely via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
Alas … only mildly recommended.
It isn’t as if Project Dorothy (2024) is a bad film; rather, its greatest disadvantage is that it brings really nothing new or nothing compelling to the whole ‘locked box’ and ‘A.I. gone bad’ sub-genre of Science Fiction and Fantasy filmmaking. At around 75 minutes, it’s also entirely too long, feeling like someone thought taking a 30-minute episode of The Twilight Zone and expanding it to feature length without also beefing up its ideas, budget, and social commentary potential was a good idea for success. Still, kudos to all involved in for giving genre fans with another iteration of the classic monster movie because it might just challenge budding storytellers to try it again down the road.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Gravitas Ventures provided me with complimentary streaming access to Project Dorothy (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Whereas Chopping Mall’s biggest asset were these fanciful robots that went about their campaign of carnage, all the budget could afford here were some rather limiting forklifts (aka tow motors) that never look all that threatening and, frankly, aren’t all that fast, all that flexible, and all that frightening. (FYI: in case you’ve never been around one, they’re very heavy – have to be in order to accomplish what they do – so their mobility is small in scope.) While the production makes good use of its abandoned facility’s office, expansive caverns, corridors and what have you, none of it either feels all that fearsome – not in the way that James Cameron’s The Terminator (1984) exoskeleton could terrify audiences – so viewers aren’t chilled as vicariously through the lives of these characters as they could’ve been.
Despite having the requisite leanness that could’ve made this thriller work on, at least, some visceral level, Dorothy wastes far too much time in what I suspect were drone-enabled shots of the factory interiors. It’s almost as if Horton and his crew were trying to inject some life into such mechanized lifelessness, hoping to convince you that there was more to this robotic intelligence than meets the eye, but when there isn’t the audience might feel a bit cheated by so much footage promising more yet delivering less. Those are creative decisions made entirely in pre-production or whilst everything was in-process; and I’d argue that greater restraint – and a shorter run-time – would’ve made for a better adventure.
A tremendous asset was casting screen veteran Tim DeZarn in a rare starring appearance. His isn’t a household name – Hollywood is a competitive industry, if nothing else – but no doubt his face is the kind film fans might recognize. (Seriously, he’s been in well over one hundred projects, often times giving a bit of character to an otherwise supporting and/or forgettable bit.) While the material here might have some inherent weaknesses, DeZarn – with a blue collar attitude – soldiers onward and shows he’s always up to the challenge. Even without the greater context for why he’d want to save a world that has cruelly and inevitably pushed him into a life of crime, he still musters the ‘hero thing’ and hatches a plot to see that this Dorothy stays on the farm in Kansas, never getting to the fabled Oz or its yellow brick road that she dreams about beyond those doors. He might be long in the tooth, but he’s definitely got the chops to make this work, and he does even when it all feels a bit … well … loopy.
Also, Project Dorothy opens with a very interesting vision, following up some scenes of mechanized activity with nothing more than a veritable wall of growing corn. The juxtaposition of what man has made – the machines that might destroy them – versus what the Earth has provided – crops to feed and, thus, give them life – couldn’t be more stark, more obvious, and maybe even more timely. It’s this sentiment that I think a good deal more of was needed to give Dorothy – as a film – the resonance she needed to transcend the tried-and-true indie project scene and be something more relevant. The seeds were clearly planted; I just wish what was harvested made for a more fulfilling meal.
Project Dorothy (2024) was produced by Kinogo Pictures and Liberty Atlantic Studios. According to the press materials provided, the film is available (as of January 16, 2024) via streaming and VOD on such platforms as Prime Video, Vudu, Vubiquity, Cox, and Comcast. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the provided sights-and-sounds were, mostly, very solid quality: sadly, there’s some filler sequences meant to display the A.I.’s activity that gets re-used over and over and over, slowing down what little momentum the flick manages to muster all too often. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? As I viewed this one entirely via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
Alas … only mildly recommended.
It isn’t as if Project Dorothy (2024) is a bad film; rather, its greatest disadvantage is that it brings really nothing new or nothing compelling to the whole ‘locked box’ and ‘A.I. gone bad’ sub-genre of Science Fiction and Fantasy filmmaking. At around 75 minutes, it’s also entirely too long, feeling like someone thought taking a 30-minute episode of The Twilight Zone and expanding it to feature length without also beefing up its ideas, budget, and social commentary potential was a good idea for success. Still, kudos to all involved in for giving genre fans with another iteration of the classic monster movie because it might just challenge budding storytellers to try it again down the road.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Gravitas Ventures provided me with complimentary streaming access to Project Dorothy (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
Good morning, gentle readers, and welcome to Thursday, January 19th, 2024. Now that you're over the hump -- as they say -- it's all downhill from here. Let's keep up the pace together, shall we?
Not a whole heckuva lot to report this morning. Life -- both in and around genre -- is fairly status quo. I've received some emails wanting my thoughts on the whole Star Wars debacle going on right now (the Rey movie, the Mando movie, etc.); but, folks, I honestly can't muster a whole lot of interest in either project for a lot of the same reasons no one else in fandom can. Essentially, it all looks like a bit of misdirection on the part of the Lucasfilm suits, if you ask me; and there's just no clear vision to any of the projects in development. Others have pointed out that -- under Disney's stewardship -- Star Wars has morphed from storytelling to more product manufacturing, and I generally agree with that. When the goal is to simply make something for something's sake, it's very hard to not recognize cynically that the Emperor has no new clothes ... and can be brought back on a whim when there's been no authentic story written before the films have gone into production.
Seriously, if I do think of something greater to say about the train wreck of a franchise? I'll post it in this space. But until there's something substantive to react to -- a story leak, some casting news, etc. -- I just have so very little to say about it.
At the end of the day, I've always thought of myself first as a critic and, second, as a historian of genre. Because I've trained my brain to respond to something solid -- a film, a TV episode, a completed production, etc. -- I just don't always have a huge reaction to general news. This is why I've often explained to newer readers of SciFiHistory.Net why I don't cover a lot of 'breaking news' type stories. So many productions that get announced don't see the light of day, and -- having learned this lesson over time -- I just don't get excited about the latest blurb. When I do, I'll mention it; but as a practice such news bits just don't jazz these ol' bones.
Not a whole heckuva lot to report this morning. Life -- both in and around genre -- is fairly status quo. I've received some emails wanting my thoughts on the whole Star Wars debacle going on right now (the Rey movie, the Mando movie, etc.); but, folks, I honestly can't muster a whole lot of interest in either project for a lot of the same reasons no one else in fandom can. Essentially, it all looks like a bit of misdirection on the part of the Lucasfilm suits, if you ask me; and there's just no clear vision to any of the projects in development. Others have pointed out that -- under Disney's stewardship -- Star Wars has morphed from storytelling to more product manufacturing, and I generally agree with that. When the goal is to simply make something for something's sake, it's very hard to not recognize cynically that the Emperor has no new clothes ... and can be brought back on a whim when there's been no authentic story written before the films have gone into production.
Seriously, if I do think of something greater to say about the train wreck of a franchise? I'll post it in this space. But until there's something substantive to react to -- a story leak, some casting news, etc. -- I just have so very little to say about it.
At the end of the day, I've always thought of myself first as a critic and, second, as a historian of genre. Because I've trained my brain to respond to something solid -- a film, a TV episode, a completed production, etc. -- I just don't always have a huge reaction to general news. This is why I've often explained to newer readers of SciFiHistory.Net why I don't cover a lot of 'breaking news' type stories. So many productions that get announced don't see the light of day, and -- having learned this lesson over time -- I just don't get excited about the latest blurb. When I do, I'll mention it; but as a practice such news bits just don't jazz these ol' bones.
But on this day back in 2013, the television phenomenon that was Fringe bowed out of its original broadcast existence with the airing of its two-part finale.
Once it found its central story -- that of parallel worlds and the general consequences of trying to cheat time -- Fringe was a work of singular genius. In its first season, I think it tried a bit too hard to serve as the 'Second Coming' of Fox TV's other great paranormal procedural -- The X-Files -- and that resulted in a kinda/sorta false start. Don't get wrong: many of those episodes were quite good, definitely succeeding in recapturing some of X's magic but with a harder scientific angle. Still, the writers room (from what I've read) was struggling to deliver standalone stories alongside trickling a slow yet steady beat of mythology; all of that changed (again, from what I've read) when Akiva Goldsman came on board, saw what was waiting in the wings, and told the creative crew to lean more heavily in that direction.
As a consequence, Fringe was one of those rare TV experiences that actually grew in popularity as it went along. Audiences were suddenly vastly more aware of how the show differed from The X-Files while only cultivating some of the same warm fuzzies; and they rewarded it with improved ratings. For a good complement of the TV landscape, it became required viewing, the kind of intellectual adventure folks would talk about around the water cooler in the workplace.
Naturally, it was sad to see it go, but I choose to celebrate it being there in the first place.
Excellent, excellent stories.
Once it found its central story -- that of parallel worlds and the general consequences of trying to cheat time -- Fringe was a work of singular genius. In its first season, I think it tried a bit too hard to serve as the 'Second Coming' of Fox TV's other great paranormal procedural -- The X-Files -- and that resulted in a kinda/sorta false start. Don't get wrong: many of those episodes were quite good, definitely succeeding in recapturing some of X's magic but with a harder scientific angle. Still, the writers room (from what I've read) was struggling to deliver standalone stories alongside trickling a slow yet steady beat of mythology; all of that changed (again, from what I've read) when Akiva Goldsman came on board, saw what was waiting in the wings, and told the creative crew to lean more heavily in that direction.
As a consequence, Fringe was one of those rare TV experiences that actually grew in popularity as it went along. Audiences were suddenly vastly more aware of how the show differed from The X-Files while only cultivating some of the same warm fuzzies; and they rewarded it with improved ratings. For a good complement of the TV landscape, it became required viewing, the kind of intellectual adventure folks would talk about around the water cooler in the workplace.
Naturally, it was sad to see it go, but I choose to celebrate it being there in the first place.
Excellent, excellent stories.
I know, I know, I know:
"But, hey, I thought all of mankind hated Waterworld?"
Well, consider me amongst the rare few who actually thought it was great cinematic fun.
I've written before that because there was so much written about how -- at the time -- Waterworld grew into one of Hollywood's biggest and most expensive vanity projects. The mainstream press loves an opportunity to take down a Hollywood heavyweight; and -- back in the day -- there was none bigger on the silver screen than Kevin Costner. He was an easy target for a press that could smell blood in the water (snicker snicker), and I've argued that this -- in no small way -- fueled a great deal of the hate the film and the star endured because of it. No, no, and no: there wasn't some huge backlash on social media, peeps, because social media didn't exist. This was the real media doing what they're paid to do for a living, and they did it well.
If anything, then I'd have to say that Waterworld was a bit of a missed opportunity. I think it could've made for a lesser franchise in the world of genre entertainment, not unlike Highlander or Tarzan or even Conan has had TV life here and there. There could've been a series of novels or even a comic book title as a spin-off with the Mariner; and it could've been glorious.
And Costner's face would've been rightfully enshrined alongside William Shatner's or Bruce Boxleitner's or Adrian Paul's in that wonderfully Apocalyptic empire. There's still time, but it'll likely never happen.
Happy birthday, Mr. Costner!
"But, hey, I thought all of mankind hated Waterworld?"
Well, consider me amongst the rare few who actually thought it was great cinematic fun.
I've written before that because there was so much written about how -- at the time -- Waterworld grew into one of Hollywood's biggest and most expensive vanity projects. The mainstream press loves an opportunity to take down a Hollywood heavyweight; and -- back in the day -- there was none bigger on the silver screen than Kevin Costner. He was an easy target for a press that could smell blood in the water (snicker snicker), and I've argued that this -- in no small way -- fueled a great deal of the hate the film and the star endured because of it. No, no, and no: there wasn't some huge backlash on social media, peeps, because social media didn't exist. This was the real media doing what they're paid to do for a living, and they did it well.
If anything, then I'd have to say that Waterworld was a bit of a missed opportunity. I think it could've made for a lesser franchise in the world of genre entertainment, not unlike Highlander or Tarzan or even Conan has had TV life here and there. There could've been a series of novels or even a comic book title as a spin-off with the Mariner; and it could've been glorious.
And Costner's face would've been rightfully enshrined alongside William Shatner's or Bruce Boxleitner's or Adrian Paul's in that wonderfully Apocalyptic empire. There's still time, but it'll likely never happen.
Happy birthday, Mr. Costner!
Alas, that's all I have for you right now, faithful readers; but don't fret. You know me, and I'd never leave you 'hanging.' There's more -- a pretty good bit more -- up on the Daily Citation Page for January 18th. Yes, there's even more in the archives that I'm meaning to get up; and I give you my word that I'll try to post a bit more as time permits.
As always, thanks for reading ... thanks for sharing ... thanks for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Good afternoon, gentle readers, and welcome to The Daily Grindhouse!
How's your Hump Day going?
Apologies for not getting this post up earlier today, but I was involved in my volunteer work. That's the reason that I, instead, put up what I call a 'recovered review' -- one I'd done a few years back for my time as an Amazon.com Top 1,000 Reviewer -- focused on 2013's Knights Of Badassdom. I knew I'd have some time this afternoon, but I hate letting a morning slip by without something on the MainPage at SciFiHistory.Net. So ... you're welcome ... but here's the real nitty gritty that folks show up for in this space on a regular basis.
But anyway ... how's your Hump Day going? Here's hoping it's shaping up to be one of the best Hump Days you've ever experienced!
How's your Hump Day going?
Apologies for not getting this post up earlier today, but I was involved in my volunteer work. That's the reason that I, instead, put up what I call a 'recovered review' -- one I'd done a few years back for my time as an Amazon.com Top 1,000 Reviewer -- focused on 2013's Knights Of Badassdom. I knew I'd have some time this afternoon, but I hate letting a morning slip by without something on the MainPage at SciFiHistory.Net. So ... you're welcome ... but here's the real nitty gritty that folks show up for in this space on a regular basis.
But anyway ... how's your Hump Day going? Here's hoping it's shaping up to be one of the best Hump Days you've ever experienced!
I've often said that I find it a very weird experience to know just how deeply the voice of James Earl Jones has ingrained itself into the galaxy far, far away, and yet audiences have never seen his face up in the lights! It's this huge narrative disconnect -- on an artistic level, only -- and I think it demonstrates just how pitch perfect his work has been and continues to be up to this day. While never even appearing under the suit, his tones embody Darth Vader -- the ultimate Dark Lord of the Sith -- like no one else could've done; and I can't even begin to imagine what the Emperor's right hand man could've been like with someone else heading the dialogue.
Happy birthday, Mr. Jones!
Happy birthday, Mr. Jones!
I know, I know, I know ... what you really want is the link ... and I'm only too happy to provide:
As always, thanks for reading ... thanks for sharing ... thanks for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Although I like to privately imagine myself still of that age group acceptably dubbed ‘fanboys,’ I’m probably a bit older than most to be a true card-carrying variety.
Like so many of them, I’ve always loved film – I have tremendous respect for almost any picture that gets churned out by the studios or the indie type. I’ve always been drawn to SciFi, Fantasy, Horror, and generally quirky features which fanboys everywhere tend to worship. I’ve noticed as of late, though, that the older I grow the less inclined I am to give some of the usual fare as much freedom to play fast and loose with what is honestly entertaining.
So … ten years ago, I might’ve laughed myself silly over something as light and superficial as Knights Of Badassdom. But today? Well, today I’ll smile about some of the more successful elements, but I still find myself cringing over screen stuff that’s just callously overblown … which is more than this film should’ve done.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last three paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Live-action role players conjure up a demon from Hell by mistake, and they must deal with the consequences.”
Down on his luck in a dead-end job and recently dumped by his girlfriend, Joe (played with his textbook golly-gee assurance by Ryan Kwanten) finds himself stoned and dragged by his two besties – Eric (the always watchable Steve Zahn) and Hung (Peter Dinklage) – to a medieval LARP (Live Action Role Players) weekend festivity meant to cleanse the kingdoms of evil. The problem is – as explained in the premise – that Eric has accidentally released an authentic demon into the wilds with a spell from an all-new book he’s found. His mistake will require the team to join forces with Gwen (genre favorite Summer Glau), her cousin Gunther (Brett Gipson), and a few others in order to stay alive, experience a short life of adventure, and heroically vanquish the beast.
A few decades back, I can remember penning a review for Bill And Ted’s Excellent Adventure (1989). I fondly recall what I wrote, much of it being that there’s a wealth of charm in any scripted idea that surrounds a group of lovable nitwits and plunks them into a situation requiring them to step up, do the right thing, and save the world in the process. It’s that same charm that fuels quite a bit of Knights Of Badassdom’s first half (what I’d term the better half); but once the bloodletting starts and the real bodies pile up, those warm fuzzies kinda/sorta vanish quickly. This tone change causes the picture to splinter into something vastly different all too abruptly, and it never quite recovers.
Like so many of them, I’ve always loved film – I have tremendous respect for almost any picture that gets churned out by the studios or the indie type. I’ve always been drawn to SciFi, Fantasy, Horror, and generally quirky features which fanboys everywhere tend to worship. I’ve noticed as of late, though, that the older I grow the less inclined I am to give some of the usual fare as much freedom to play fast and loose with what is honestly entertaining.
So … ten years ago, I might’ve laughed myself silly over something as light and superficial as Knights Of Badassdom. But today? Well, today I’ll smile about some of the more successful elements, but I still find myself cringing over screen stuff that’s just callously overblown … which is more than this film should’ve done.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last three paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Live-action role players conjure up a demon from Hell by mistake, and they must deal with the consequences.”
Down on his luck in a dead-end job and recently dumped by his girlfriend, Joe (played with his textbook golly-gee assurance by Ryan Kwanten) finds himself stoned and dragged by his two besties – Eric (the always watchable Steve Zahn) and Hung (Peter Dinklage) – to a medieval LARP (Live Action Role Players) weekend festivity meant to cleanse the kingdoms of evil. The problem is – as explained in the premise – that Eric has accidentally released an authentic demon into the wilds with a spell from an all-new book he’s found. His mistake will require the team to join forces with Gwen (genre favorite Summer Glau), her cousin Gunther (Brett Gipson), and a few others in order to stay alive, experience a short life of adventure, and heroically vanquish the beast.
A few decades back, I can remember penning a review for Bill And Ted’s Excellent Adventure (1989). I fondly recall what I wrote, much of it being that there’s a wealth of charm in any scripted idea that surrounds a group of lovable nitwits and plunks them into a situation requiring them to step up, do the right thing, and save the world in the process. It’s that same charm that fuels quite a bit of Knights Of Badassdom’s first half (what I’d term the better half); but once the bloodletting starts and the real bodies pile up, those warm fuzzies kinda/sorta vanish quickly. This tone change causes the picture to splinter into something vastly different all too abruptly, and it never quite recovers.
Thematically – much like I wrote with Bill And Ted – these characters are your classic, Grade-A knuckleheads. Real life offers them very little reward or attention, so they’ve understandably embraced the alternatives that role-playing offers them: a chance at individual and collective greatness. As LARPers, they’re committed to achieving more and more skills, to acquiring more and more power they can put to use within the game; and, on that level, each of them is not only understandable but also highly relatable. Their choice – and their respective character arcs – make perfect sense. The audience is drawn to them, in part, because they’re clueless but it’s an inviting and amiable cluelessness – an existence everyone can revere. It’s precisely Eric and Hung’s winning affinity that pushes them to bring Joe into their world: they know that this release from the pain of day-to-day life can bring rewards, and that’s something he definitely needs.
However, once the succubus is loose and roaming the countryside – erm, city park – the film starts to gravitate heavily toward bloodshed. The first few unfortunate victims are dispatched with joy – an almost tongue-in-cheek, winking-at-the-camera hokeyness; once an important death is delivered with bloody surprise, that’s when Badassdom lost its charm for me. Granted, director Joe Lynch went to great pains to try and recover it, but it just never felt right after that moment.
I know those fellow fanboys of mine out there will be disappointed with this review, but I have to call ‘em like I see ‘em. Maybe that makes me a curmudgeon. Maybe that makes me a fuddy-duddy. Even worse, maybe that makes me … old? Still, I expected an awful lot more due to this film’s long-lasting internet buzz as well as the wealth of acting talent up on the screen.
A disappointment, yes, but not a disaster.
Knights Of Badassdom (2013) is produced by IndieVest Pictures and North by Northwest Entertainment. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by E One Entertainment (aka Entertainment One). As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I still found this is one smartly manufactured piece of mirth, and it offers up some quality sights and sounds – there’s even a handful of practical effects (splatter and gore variety) that are quite good, while some of the brief CGI-style stuff leaves a bit to be desired. If it’s special features you’re interested in, then you have a solid handful to anticipate: besides the usual behind-the-scenes stuff, there are some good interviews with the cast, a celebration of Summer Glau’s “hotness,” and even a San Diego Comic Con panel. Not too shabby.
Mildly recommended.
I won’t hide my disappointment with Knights Of Badassdom (2013). This flick has had an incredible shelf-life so far as entertainment websites are concerned. Having read so much unadulterated praise about this thing and its central performances, I honestly expected more laughs and even bigger moments from it than what was delivered. It musters some occasional charm – much of it in the first half – but so very much of its misplaced violence is probably why this cult flick struggled for so long to find a legitimate distributor. In this era of PC-correctness, there’s an awful lot in here some folks might find objectionable. My advice – always remember it’s a cult flick, and you should do fine with it.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at E One Entertainment (aka Entertainment One) provided me with an advance DVD copy by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.
-- EZ
However, once the succubus is loose and roaming the countryside – erm, city park – the film starts to gravitate heavily toward bloodshed. The first few unfortunate victims are dispatched with joy – an almost tongue-in-cheek, winking-at-the-camera hokeyness; once an important death is delivered with bloody surprise, that’s when Badassdom lost its charm for me. Granted, director Joe Lynch went to great pains to try and recover it, but it just never felt right after that moment.
I know those fellow fanboys of mine out there will be disappointed with this review, but I have to call ‘em like I see ‘em. Maybe that makes me a curmudgeon. Maybe that makes me a fuddy-duddy. Even worse, maybe that makes me … old? Still, I expected an awful lot more due to this film’s long-lasting internet buzz as well as the wealth of acting talent up on the screen.
A disappointment, yes, but not a disaster.
Knights Of Badassdom (2013) is produced by IndieVest Pictures and North by Northwest Entertainment. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by E One Entertainment (aka Entertainment One). As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I still found this is one smartly manufactured piece of mirth, and it offers up some quality sights and sounds – there’s even a handful of practical effects (splatter and gore variety) that are quite good, while some of the brief CGI-style stuff leaves a bit to be desired. If it’s special features you’re interested in, then you have a solid handful to anticipate: besides the usual behind-the-scenes stuff, there are some good interviews with the cast, a celebration of Summer Glau’s “hotness,” and even a San Diego Comic Con panel. Not too shabby.
Mildly recommended.
I won’t hide my disappointment with Knights Of Badassdom (2013). This flick has had an incredible shelf-life so far as entertainment websites are concerned. Having read so much unadulterated praise about this thing and its central performances, I honestly expected more laughs and even bigger moments from it than what was delivered. It musters some occasional charm – much of it in the first half – but so very much of its misplaced violence is probably why this cult flick struggled for so long to find a legitimate distributor. In this era of PC-correctness, there’s an awful lot in here some folks might find objectionable. My advice – always remember it’s a cult flick, and you should do fine with it.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at E One Entertainment (aka Entertainment One) provided me with an advance DVD copy by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.
-- EZ