- Published on
Good morning, gentle readers!
Apologies for the minorly late start today. Got up early, took a quick power nap, and then had to run a few quick errands outside the house today before I could settle into the Daily Grindhouse ... but I'm here now. I do have some content that I'll be sprinkling into the August 15th page over the course of the morning, so keep your eyes fixed on that space for some new additions. Otherwise, it might be a slow afternoon as well. I do have a few items I'm going to try to view in the P.M., so that means new reviews might be coming but probably not today. More likely, I'll have them up and running tomorrow. We'll see, as they say.
Otherwise, let's dispense with the pleasantries and get about our business. Here's what you came here for:
Apologies for the minorly late start today. Got up early, took a quick power nap, and then had to run a few quick errands outside the house today before I could settle into the Daily Grindhouse ... but I'm here now. I do have some content that I'll be sprinkling into the August 15th page over the course of the morning, so keep your eyes fixed on that space for some new additions. Otherwise, it might be a slow afternoon as well. I do have a few items I'm going to try to view in the P.M., so that means new reviews might be coming but probably not today. More likely, I'll have them up and running tomorrow. We'll see, as they say.
Otherwise, let's dispense with the pleasantries and get about our business. Here's what you came here for:
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
History lesson time, kiddies. Buckle up.
On November 18, 1992 in Superman #75, the big himself -- the Man of Steel -- actually died.
Yes, yes, and yes. You read that right. Superman died.
Now, of course, it didn't last, and Superman got better. (Monty Python fans should appreciate that little barb.) And -- in fairness to those of us who were there on that fateful date way back then -- I don't think any of us expected that it was real. You can't keep an icon like Superman down, but the storytelling stewards at DC Comics did intend to keep Big Blue out of the limelight for a while. After his massive throwdown with Doomsday, Supes needed time to recover; and while none of us truly knew what happened to him and/or his body after the fight, one thing was for sure ... his absence was going to be a boon for the criminals of Metropolis, and that's nearly what happened.
But out of the ashes of that devastation, an all-new Superman emerged ... well, not one ... not two ... not three ... but an incredible four different versions of Superman took up residence in Metropolis, and they began cleaning up the streets while Big Blue was absent from the scene.
One of these new characters introduced in the books was John Henry Irons ... and, in 1997, Warner Bros. brought this particular incarnation to the silver screen. His superhero name was Steel, and -- for his inaugural and only outing to this date -- he was played by none other than basketball legend Shaquille O'Neal.
Written (in part) and directed for the screen by Kenneth Johnson -- the creative genius behind TV's original V property -- Steel starred O'Neal, Judd Nelson, Richard Roundtree, Charles Napier, and 'God's gift to men everywhere' the lovely and talented Annabeth Gish. Here's the plot summary as provided by our friends at IMDB.com:
"A scientist for the military turns himself into a cartoon-like superhero when a version of one of his own weapons is being used against enemies."
On November 18, 1992 in Superman #75, the big himself -- the Man of Steel -- actually died.
Yes, yes, and yes. You read that right. Superman died.
Now, of course, it didn't last, and Superman got better. (Monty Python fans should appreciate that little barb.) And -- in fairness to those of us who were there on that fateful date way back then -- I don't think any of us expected that it was real. You can't keep an icon like Superman down, but the storytelling stewards at DC Comics did intend to keep Big Blue out of the limelight for a while. After his massive throwdown with Doomsday, Supes needed time to recover; and while none of us truly knew what happened to him and/or his body after the fight, one thing was for sure ... his absence was going to be a boon for the criminals of Metropolis, and that's nearly what happened.
But out of the ashes of that devastation, an all-new Superman emerged ... well, not one ... not two ... not three ... but an incredible four different versions of Superman took up residence in Metropolis, and they began cleaning up the streets while Big Blue was absent from the scene.
One of these new characters introduced in the books was John Henry Irons ... and, in 1997, Warner Bros. brought this particular incarnation to the silver screen. His superhero name was Steel, and -- for his inaugural and only outing to this date -- he was played by none other than basketball legend Shaquille O'Neal.
Written (in part) and directed for the screen by Kenneth Johnson -- the creative genius behind TV's original V property -- Steel starred O'Neal, Judd Nelson, Richard Roundtree, Charles Napier, and 'God's gift to men everywhere' the lovely and talented Annabeth Gish. Here's the plot summary as provided by our friends at IMDB.com:
"A scientist for the military turns himself into a cartoon-like superhero when a version of one of his own weapons is being used against enemies."
Naturally, I don't want to make a big deal out of this superhero property. Steel had a measure of popularity during the whole 'Death And Return Of Superman' Saga, and the character played a reasonably integral part in the DC Universe for some time in the wake of that best-selling saga. Had the producers actually cast a proven acting talent for the outing, then it may've had minimally an opportunity to achieve cult status: I don't think a silver screen audience was all that interested in watching Shaq in the role, so this thing pretty much came and went at the box office fairly quickly. I have read that some producers likened it to having Michael Jordan in Space Jam (1996), but (cough cough) Jordan was a real-life superstar who played himself opposite some of filmdom's biggest animated stars so the comparison falls flat for me.
Whatever the case was, history hasn't been kind to Steel. The picture has largely been forgotten, and the character -- despite some strong prospects -- has been relegated to the trash heap. That's a shame because anyone who's read the books knows well enough that John Henry Irons deserved a real opportunity to step out of Superman's shadows and seize his own day in the sun. It could've been something grand ... and maybe it will be if Hollywood decides to go back to the drawing board.
Whatever the case was, history hasn't been kind to Steel. The picture has largely been forgotten, and the character -- despite some strong prospects -- has been relegated to the trash heap. That's a shame because anyone who's read the books knows well enough that John Henry Irons deserved a real opportunity to step out of Superman's shadows and seize his own day in the sun. It could've been something grand ... and maybe it will be if Hollywood decides to go back to the drawing board.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
-- EZ
- Published on
For those of you who weren't there to see it live, the 1980's were replete with an incredible number of motion pictures that explored our planet's impending apocalypse.
A lot of this was owed to the popularity of Australia's Mad Max (1979) and its follow-up sensation The Road Warrior (1981), so who can blame the various filmmakers and storytellers around the world for trying to (cough cough) cash in on a popular theatrical trend? In fairness -- while reserving my critical opinion -- many of these weren't very good; instead they were quick and cheap knock-offs meant to separate a fool and his money with a reasonable substitute for the real thing. A good deal of them essentially involved total screen badasses all decked out in leather, and the stories were half-baked iterations exploring the chaos resulting from the fall of man.
Italian auteur Enzo G. Castellari was particularly smitten with the idea about exploring the end of civilization, and some have written that the man really was at the forefront of keeping these Mad Max rip-offs going for as long as they did. His Escape From The Bronx (1983) was billed as a direct sequel to 1990: The Bronx Warriors (1982); and a third film -- The New Barbarians (aka Warriors Of The Wasteland) -- even took the Intellectual Property off in another direction. Castellari crafted the story with longtime contribution Tito Carpi, and he brought along such stars for the ride as Mark Gregory, Henry Silva, Valeria D'Obici, Giancarlo Prete, and Paolo Malco.
Here's the plot summary as provided by our friends at IMDB.com:
"A vicious corporation tries to kill and starve the last remaining habitants of the Bronx in order to build their own high-rise developments. A lone long-haired, hot-tempered warrior, Trash, is his only obstacle. Trash, a psychopathic bomb-maker and his equally psychopathic preschool son and an annoying activist help him out by kidnapping "the President" (of the corporation), a Richard Dreyfuss look-alike. Henry Silva plays another psychopath, this one on the side of the corporations. A favorite movie of Mystery Science Theater 3000 series."
A lot of this was owed to the popularity of Australia's Mad Max (1979) and its follow-up sensation The Road Warrior (1981), so who can blame the various filmmakers and storytellers around the world for trying to (cough cough) cash in on a popular theatrical trend? In fairness -- while reserving my critical opinion -- many of these weren't very good; instead they were quick and cheap knock-offs meant to separate a fool and his money with a reasonable substitute for the real thing. A good deal of them essentially involved total screen badasses all decked out in leather, and the stories were half-baked iterations exploring the chaos resulting from the fall of man.
Italian auteur Enzo G. Castellari was particularly smitten with the idea about exploring the end of civilization, and some have written that the man really was at the forefront of keeping these Mad Max rip-offs going for as long as they did. His Escape From The Bronx (1983) was billed as a direct sequel to 1990: The Bronx Warriors (1982); and a third film -- The New Barbarians (aka Warriors Of The Wasteland) -- even took the Intellectual Property off in another direction. Castellari crafted the story with longtime contribution Tito Carpi, and he brought along such stars for the ride as Mark Gregory, Henry Silva, Valeria D'Obici, Giancarlo Prete, and Paolo Malco.
Here's the plot summary as provided by our friends at IMDB.com:
"A vicious corporation tries to kill and starve the last remaining habitants of the Bronx in order to build their own high-rise developments. A lone long-haired, hot-tempered warrior, Trash, is his only obstacle. Trash, a psychopathic bomb-maker and his equally psychopathic preschool son and an annoying activist help him out by kidnapping "the President" (of the corporation), a Richard Dreyfuss look-alike. Henry Silva plays another psychopath, this one on the side of the corporations. A favorite movie of Mystery Science Theater 3000 series."
I think it's safe to suggest that Escape is the kind of film that has a cult audience somewhere out there, though I don't run into them all that often in my pursuits. Castellari's flicks -- from those I've seen -- have a basic low-budget sensibility to them; and they typically frolic along in search of high body counts along with a splattering of useful violence. IMDB.com's trivia page for the film states that Escape's body count -- as an example -- nears 200 victims (in its uncut version), and that's honestly the kind of business these flicks did very well in the 1980's. Often viewed as excuses to be exploitative, they're largely dismissed by mainstream audiences as little more than curiosities, so maybe it's best we let bygones be bygones.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
-- EZ
- Published on
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s production packaging:
“Two billion years in the future, humanity finds itself on the verge of extinction. Almost all that remains are lone, surreal monuments – the futuristic, solemn, Brutalist stone slabs erected during the communist era of the former Yugoslav republics, arrestingly photographed in luminous 16mm black-and-white …”
There’s a bit more, but – frankly – I think it both gives away too much of director Jóhann Jóhannsson’s central technique, so I decided it best to truncate that. Still, it isn’t that often when I find so very little to say about a project, and yet that’s the case with Last And First Men (2020), an impressive debut but equally hollow so far as this under-educated critic is concerned. Rather than present a story (there are pieces of a narrative pulled apparently from a cult SciFi novel written by Olay Stapledon), instead the filmmaker dabbles in imagery and sets it up against what serves as a brief yarn exploring the synchronized tenets of life, death, and extinction … or that’s what I’m going with.
Having read only a fair amount of vintage Science Fiction, I can assure you that – practically from the get-go – Last And First Men feels like SciFi and Fantasy of the bygone era. That isn’t necessarily a strength, however, as I’ve found most academics tend to dismiss the stuff from the earlier part of the 20th Century as being vastly too pulpy and/or simplistic to be recognized as ‘literature.’ Stapledon’s work – or what bits and pieces are represented in some of the slowest, most languid narration captured for the screen (no offense to actress Tilda Swinton, but a bit of vocal excitement might’ve pricked this thing up a bit) – essentially deals with the descendants of our world migrating to a distant world in order to avoid extinction … only to find out they’re about to burn out yet again. It’s a dour rumination but does make some useful observations here and there; and Jóhannsson has done an affable enough job pairing up the tale with some striking visuals.
Still, the problem I had with all of this was that it was just too long.
As I stated, Swinton’s delivery is one thing, but the entire film is stretched to its running length by what feels like endlessly and unnecessarily long sequences. While the architecture makes for some stunning views – and they definitely point out the irony of monoliths surviving long after their builders have all but vanished – I don’t need to stare at it for 20, 30, 40, 50, and 60 seconds with the ponderous music weeping in the background. Had anyone suggested to crop this thing in half – though I could be wrong, I can’t imagine Swinton’s speeches and vignettes stretching longer than 15 minutes tops in here – then perhaps the end result would’ve resonated with me more strongly. It isn’t as if I disliked the premise or failed to miss the point; rather, it’s interminably pretentious for the casual viewer.
Imagine your favorite half-hour episode of, say, The Twilight Zone or The Outer Limits. Now, imagine someone suggesting that the director pad that thirty-minutes with an additional forty-minutes of scenery and music just because it looks pretty and sounds grand. That’s where I’m at with this otherwise impressive flick: it needed to exercise some restraint … much like the universe kept going after mankind no matter how far they traveled from Earth.
Last And First Men (2020) was produced by Zik Zak Filmworks. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the sights-and-sounds included in this 71-minute film were largely very good: there’s a fair amount of camera trickery employed that doesn’t always appear to mean anything substantial (at least, it didn’t to me), and there are a few sound cuts that definitely give viewers watching closely something to think about. As for the special features? Well … a big miss … as there are none, save the theatrical trailer, which is basically the film’s opening 2 minutes, so … yeah. A big miss.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
In fact, let me go one step further: I suspect only folks who are true cinema aficionados and/or fans of experimental storytelling will have all that much use for Last And First Men. I say this because it’s really more of an idea than it is an authentic story – there’s only a loose structure here with a recognizable beginning and finish, but that’s about it. So if that’s your thing? Film nerds and academics, this bud’s for you! Well … it might be for you. Honestly, I would’ve enjoyed it a bit more had it clocked in at half its run time. Otherwise, it’s a ponderous meditation on existence more than it is anything else … only occasionally impactful and sparingly edifying.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Last And First Men (2020) 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
From the film’s production packaging:
“Two billion years in the future, humanity finds itself on the verge of extinction. Almost all that remains are lone, surreal monuments – the futuristic, solemn, Brutalist stone slabs erected during the communist era of the former Yugoslav republics, arrestingly photographed in luminous 16mm black-and-white …”
There’s a bit more, but – frankly – I think it both gives away too much of director Jóhann Jóhannsson’s central technique, so I decided it best to truncate that. Still, it isn’t that often when I find so very little to say about a project, and yet that’s the case with Last And First Men (2020), an impressive debut but equally hollow so far as this under-educated critic is concerned. Rather than present a story (there are pieces of a narrative pulled apparently from a cult SciFi novel written by Olay Stapledon), instead the filmmaker dabbles in imagery and sets it up against what serves as a brief yarn exploring the synchronized tenets of life, death, and extinction … or that’s what I’m going with.
Having read only a fair amount of vintage Science Fiction, I can assure you that – practically from the get-go – Last And First Men feels like SciFi and Fantasy of the bygone era. That isn’t necessarily a strength, however, as I’ve found most academics tend to dismiss the stuff from the earlier part of the 20th Century as being vastly too pulpy and/or simplistic to be recognized as ‘literature.’ Stapledon’s work – or what bits and pieces are represented in some of the slowest, most languid narration captured for the screen (no offense to actress Tilda Swinton, but a bit of vocal excitement might’ve pricked this thing up a bit) – essentially deals with the descendants of our world migrating to a distant world in order to avoid extinction … only to find out they’re about to burn out yet again. It’s a dour rumination but does make some useful observations here and there; and Jóhannsson has done an affable enough job pairing up the tale with some striking visuals.
Still, the problem I had with all of this was that it was just too long.
As I stated, Swinton’s delivery is one thing, but the entire film is stretched to its running length by what feels like endlessly and unnecessarily long sequences. While the architecture makes for some stunning views – and they definitely point out the irony of monoliths surviving long after their builders have all but vanished – I don’t need to stare at it for 20, 30, 40, 50, and 60 seconds with the ponderous music weeping in the background. Had anyone suggested to crop this thing in half – though I could be wrong, I can’t imagine Swinton’s speeches and vignettes stretching longer than 15 minutes tops in here – then perhaps the end result would’ve resonated with me more strongly. It isn’t as if I disliked the premise or failed to miss the point; rather, it’s interminably pretentious for the casual viewer.
Imagine your favorite half-hour episode of, say, The Twilight Zone or The Outer Limits. Now, imagine someone suggesting that the director pad that thirty-minutes with an additional forty-minutes of scenery and music just because it looks pretty and sounds grand. That’s where I’m at with this otherwise impressive flick: it needed to exercise some restraint … much like the universe kept going after mankind no matter how far they traveled from Earth.
Last And First Men (2020) was produced by Zik Zak Filmworks. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the sights-and-sounds included in this 71-minute film were largely very good: there’s a fair amount of camera trickery employed that doesn’t always appear to mean anything substantial (at least, it didn’t to me), and there are a few sound cuts that definitely give viewers watching closely something to think about. As for the special features? Well … a big miss … as there are none, save the theatrical trailer, which is basically the film’s opening 2 minutes, so … yeah. A big miss.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
In fact, let me go one step further: I suspect only folks who are true cinema aficionados and/or fans of experimental storytelling will have all that much use for Last And First Men. I say this because it’s really more of an idea than it is an authentic story – there’s only a loose structure here with a recognizable beginning and finish, but that’s about it. So if that’s your thing? Film nerds and academics, this bud’s for you! Well … it might be for you. Honestly, I would’ve enjoyed it a bit more had it clocked in at half its run time. Otherwise, it’s a ponderous meditation on existence more than it is anything else … only occasionally impactful and sparingly edifying.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Last And First Men (2020) 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 yet one more Monday morning! I hope this new week gives you a sense of hope for what should be shaping up to be another grand adventure in this experience called life!
Not a whole lot to report upon casually this morning. Yes, yes, yes: we're still in the midst of a writer's and actor's strike here in the land of the free and the home of the brave, so the news of any entertainment developments is a bit slim. I did see the fuss being made online about Lucasfilm's Kathleen Kennedy putting her house up for sale; and -- like so many -- I wonder what that's all about. I know the Vegas odds certainly suggest that this means her time in charge of All Things Star Wars might be nearing its end (as do other contributing factors), but until she's packed up and gone -- with the obligatory studio announcement of the end of her tenure -- I'm not going to be counting any chickens before they hatch. Unlike so many, I don't fault her for everything that's gone wrong with the Intellectual Property -- there are far too many movie parts in any franchise to point the finger at a sole individual -- but, yes, evidence minimally suggests that perhaps she didn't have the best interests of Luke, Han, and Leia in mind at any stage of the game. I understand the desire to "move along," but why should you do that merely for the sake of doing it? Why not give our cultural heroes one last hurrah when you had the chance? Oh, well. It is what it is.
Other than that, it was a reasonably quiet weekend, and yet I still managed to squeeze in some Star Wars stuff that I'll likely be talking about in another post. In short, I caught that screening of The Phantom Menace on Saturday that I had spoken about last week, and I wanted to offer up a humble reflection. But I also picked up a Rogue Squadron trade paperback, finished it after a few feverish hours of reading, and I might have a little 'something something' to say about that as well later today. Keep your eyes peeled.
In any event, enough with the pleasantries and let's get down to the brass tacks:
Not a whole lot to report upon casually this morning. Yes, yes, yes: we're still in the midst of a writer's and actor's strike here in the land of the free and the home of the brave, so the news of any entertainment developments is a bit slim. I did see the fuss being made online about Lucasfilm's Kathleen Kennedy putting her house up for sale; and -- like so many -- I wonder what that's all about. I know the Vegas odds certainly suggest that this means her time in charge of All Things Star Wars might be nearing its end (as do other contributing factors), but until she's packed up and gone -- with the obligatory studio announcement of the end of her tenure -- I'm not going to be counting any chickens before they hatch. Unlike so many, I don't fault her for everything that's gone wrong with the Intellectual Property -- there are far too many movie parts in any franchise to point the finger at a sole individual -- but, yes, evidence minimally suggests that perhaps she didn't have the best interests of Luke, Han, and Leia in mind at any stage of the game. I understand the desire to "move along," but why should you do that merely for the sake of doing it? Why not give our cultural heroes one last hurrah when you had the chance? Oh, well. It is what it is.
Other than that, it was a reasonably quiet weekend, and yet I still managed to squeeze in some Star Wars stuff that I'll likely be talking about in another post. In short, I caught that screening of The Phantom Menace on Saturday that I had spoken about last week, and I wanted to offer up a humble reflection. But I also picked up a Rogue Squadron trade paperback, finished it after a few feverish hours of reading, and I might have a little 'something something' to say about that as well later today. Keep your eyes peeled.
In any event, enough with the pleasantries and let's get down to the brass tacks:
Also, if you could, say a little prayer for the people of Lahaina? What an absolutely devastating reality those folks have found themselves in. I don't know if any of you have had the opportunity to visit the Hawaiian island of Maui and to walk Lahaina's storied streets, but it's a wonderful place. The wifey and I -- back in 2013 or 2014 -- had the good fortune on a business trip; and we just fell in love with the place. So peaceful and so damn beautiful. We took in a few small(ish) touristy stops there, and we just loved it. The pictures of the fire devastation are just so heartwrenching. Our deepest thoughts and prayers go out to those trying to recover.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
One of the things I've always loved about fandom is that we never stop thinking about that which interests us most.
Our films, TV series, and novels endure. They not only speak to us in the present -- when we've experienced them for the very first time -- but they continue to resonate well into the years. Some of these new reflections come when we're inbibing them the second, third, fourth, or dozenth time; and it's amazing how we can notice something today that perhaps we missed on those earlier occasions. This may not mean that we weren't watching closely in those days gone by; rather, we -- as a people -- keep evolving, and it's this evolution that more often than not helps us to focus in on something months and years later when we're burying ourselves in the art once again. This might increase our love for a particular element, or -- in some cases -- it may produce a grimace. You never know what you're going to get when you get to whatever it is you're going to know.
In order to bolster attendance, a local budget theater starting bringing back classic showings -- old films and some not-so-old -- into its regular line-up of blockbusters that have overstayed their welcome. In perhaps one of the boldest moves of the summer, the manager opted to bring back the Original Trilogy from Star Wars, and he followed that up with screenings of both Rogue One (2016) and the somewhat ill-fated Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018). As those proved popular with audiences, he then decided to go deep into the well and bring back the Prequel Trilogy ... so this past weekend I had the good fortune of taking in a showing of -- yes, you guessed it -- Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace (1999).
Ahhh ... screen miracles never cease to amaze me!
Think what you will of the George Lucas spectacle (I won't trouble you with a full accounting of its strengths and merits because that's not really why I'm here today), but like any of the installments in the wider Skywalker Saga it's a film that's still best experienced on the silver screen. Nothing but nothing looks so grand up in the lights and shadows than do these bigger-than-life star thrillers; and Menace -- with it's somewhat lackluster pacing -- is arguably just as good up there as it ever way. Yes, yes, and yes: like so many, I've had my share of issues with it over the years, but unlike so many I just don't see the point in giving the flick a full post-mortem. I may do that in this space in some future review, but for today I just want to underscore what I said way back then -- upon walking out of the moviehouse in 1999 -- because I think it's really still relevant today.
Put simply: The Phantom Menace is a feature that's missing one central story.
I thought back then -- like I still do today -- that Menace needed to be an adventure that belonged to one character. While it was great meeting some new players and widened the mythological universe, Lucas' failure to nail down one point-of-view truly hampered the yarn's prospects at reaching out into the hearts and minds of those watching. Instead, I think that Menace unspools in an almost start-and-stop fashion -- perhaps a bit too similar to those classic film serials of old that George has admitted to loving so much in his youth -- and the inability to hone in one a single perspective kills the forward motion in the first two-thirds of its running time. Once the introductions are fully out of the way and the narrative centers on the Naboo conflict, there's finally a thread worth following, and it stays true until the end.
Also -- unlike so many -- I think that result was achievable with just about everything Lucas shot. It would've required a bit of reshoot here and there to tighten the pieces that remained, but when evaluating art I do try to avoid playing the 'Monday morning quarterback.' While I do consider myself a storyteller, I don't like tinkering so directly in completed tales as do so damn many entertainment pundits out there on the Information Superhighway. I may undertake such an exercise some day -- I might tell you what I would've done to tighten the story if I were in charge -- but for now I'll just leave you with my long-stated assessment: there's a good film wrapped up in a lesser one that remains the start of the whole saga.
Be thankful for it. It truly brought Star Wars back to the big screen where it deserves to be. You don't have to love it. Just be thankful it finally happened after such a huge, huge, huge delay.
-- EZ
Our films, TV series, and novels endure. They not only speak to us in the present -- when we've experienced them for the very first time -- but they continue to resonate well into the years. Some of these new reflections come when we're inbibing them the second, third, fourth, or dozenth time; and it's amazing how we can notice something today that perhaps we missed on those earlier occasions. This may not mean that we weren't watching closely in those days gone by; rather, we -- as a people -- keep evolving, and it's this evolution that more often than not helps us to focus in on something months and years later when we're burying ourselves in the art once again. This might increase our love for a particular element, or -- in some cases -- it may produce a grimace. You never know what you're going to get when you get to whatever it is you're going to know.
In order to bolster attendance, a local budget theater starting bringing back classic showings -- old films and some not-so-old -- into its regular line-up of blockbusters that have overstayed their welcome. In perhaps one of the boldest moves of the summer, the manager opted to bring back the Original Trilogy from Star Wars, and he followed that up with screenings of both Rogue One (2016) and the somewhat ill-fated Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018). As those proved popular with audiences, he then decided to go deep into the well and bring back the Prequel Trilogy ... so this past weekend I had the good fortune of taking in a showing of -- yes, you guessed it -- Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace (1999).
Ahhh ... screen miracles never cease to amaze me!
Think what you will of the George Lucas spectacle (I won't trouble you with a full accounting of its strengths and merits because that's not really why I'm here today), but like any of the installments in the wider Skywalker Saga it's a film that's still best experienced on the silver screen. Nothing but nothing looks so grand up in the lights and shadows than do these bigger-than-life star thrillers; and Menace -- with it's somewhat lackluster pacing -- is arguably just as good up there as it ever way. Yes, yes, and yes: like so many, I've had my share of issues with it over the years, but unlike so many I just don't see the point in giving the flick a full post-mortem. I may do that in this space in some future review, but for today I just want to underscore what I said way back then -- upon walking out of the moviehouse in 1999 -- because I think it's really still relevant today.
Put simply: The Phantom Menace is a feature that's missing one central story.
I thought back then -- like I still do today -- that Menace needed to be an adventure that belonged to one character. While it was great meeting some new players and widened the mythological universe, Lucas' failure to nail down one point-of-view truly hampered the yarn's prospects at reaching out into the hearts and minds of those watching. Instead, I think that Menace unspools in an almost start-and-stop fashion -- perhaps a bit too similar to those classic film serials of old that George has admitted to loving so much in his youth -- and the inability to hone in one a single perspective kills the forward motion in the first two-thirds of its running time. Once the introductions are fully out of the way and the narrative centers on the Naboo conflict, there's finally a thread worth following, and it stays true until the end.
Also -- unlike so many -- I think that result was achievable with just about everything Lucas shot. It would've required a bit of reshoot here and there to tighten the pieces that remained, but when evaluating art I do try to avoid playing the 'Monday morning quarterback.' While I do consider myself a storyteller, I don't like tinkering so directly in completed tales as do so damn many entertainment pundits out there on the Information Superhighway. I may undertake such an exercise some day -- I might tell you what I would've done to tighten the story if I were in charge -- but for now I'll just leave you with my long-stated assessment: there's a good film wrapped up in a lesser one that remains the start of the whole saga.
Be thankful for it. It truly brought Star Wars back to the big screen where it deserves to be. You don't have to love it. Just be thankful it finally happened after such a huge, huge, huge delay.
-- EZ
- Published on
All right, haters: hear me out ...
Last week sometime during one of the podcasts I listened to that dealt in no small way with the Walt Disney Company's (cough cough) Earnings Call, there was a board of several pundits throwing around various ideas and/or exercises that they thought might invigorate the failing Star Wars franchise. While I think that there was some consensus that excursions to that galaxy far, far away have always worked best on the silver screen, the discussion quickly turned to how a new studio head for Lucasfilm might best incorporate all media in an inclusive strategy meant to kickstart cultural interest. I think what kinda/sorta was mentioned but got glossed over in the chat was precisely how Star Wars pretty much returned from the dead back in the early 1990's and how this orchestrated roll-out works magnificently almost every single time it's tried.
Pay attention, younglings and padawans: this is a brief history lesson.
Believe it or not, our beloved Star Wars faded into near-obscurity not long after Return Of The Jedi (1983) came and went from the box office. Oh, of course, there were home video releases and a few TV incarnations that tickled only a modest fancy; but by the end of the 1980's it seemed as though Luke, Han, Leia, Darth, Chewie, and the whole gang were pretty much forgotten. Also, there was the occasional mention in the press that George Lucas was eventually intending to tell 'the rest of the story,' but fans were given absolutely no timeframe with which we could cling to or hold out hope for more of the same. In practical terms, Star Wars was dead ... only until it wasn't.
This turnabout came, largely, in the spring of 1991 when Timothy Zahn's stellar Heir To The Empire so fantastically catapulted audiences back to these beloved worlds in a hugely successful way. Our original heroes were back in action, battling the forces of evil that emerged long after the fall of Palpatine's Empire; and readers were ultimately treated to what many felt like should have been the Sequel Trilogy instead of what the Mouse House delivered. (No, no, and no: we are not having this argument again, people. I'm just stating facts!) Zahn gave fans a taste of what the future for Star Wars could've looked like, and it was upon this new wave of interest that Lucasfilm expanded its universe with novels, comic books, and games.
Somewhere along the way, Dark Horse Comics also tapped a very fluid vein with the creation of several Rogue Squadron event series. These multi-issue stories were arguably a bit deeper and maybe even more ponderous than the usual comic book fare, enticing readers with adventures that (in no small way) fill in the voids left around many of the larger novels. Several of these characters jumped from the pages of print into full comic's color; and there were even many events explored from multiple perspectives across all media. This was, indeed, a fabulous time to jump aboard the exploding Star Wars universe; and I think this is why so many pundits in fandom these days still harken back to the E.U. (Expanded Universe) as being the franchise's second Golden Age.
(I will say that, having not read all that came out in this time, I'd still agree with those sentiments. There was a lot of really, really, really good stuff introduced into canon -- a mythology that the Walt Disney Company, sadly, excised -- and here's hoping if nothing else you folks might go out and pick something up today to see what you missed. It's quite dynamic.)
Now, the reason I bring this up is that one of the pundits in a podcast I listened to (I believe it was YouTube.com's WDWPro) suggested that Lucasfilm might want to look to the past in order to chart a better path to the future ... and one of those properties might very well be to re-introduce Rogue Squadron. I'm here to say that I strongly agree.
For those unaware, Rogue Squadron came about from Dark Horse with its first issue in 1995, and it ran for what Google.com reports to be 35 issues. While some might not see that as a particular ly impressive run, I could still make a strong argument that Rogue rather deftly stepped into and around a whole lot of what was going on fictionally in the Star Wars galaxy at that time, plucking the occasional character here and there from one of the novels and giving him or her a wider backstory with which to evolve. As imperfect as it may've been executed at the time, Rogue conceptually was a near perfect foundation with which to explore the growing people, places and events. Personally, I think the reason it may not have endured could be that it tried a bit too hard to fit in with other stories when it could very well have branched out on its own as an entirely separate entity. I don't mind a bit of crossover, but you risk offending readers who aren't as involved with Star Wars' emerging timelines by invoking those particulars. Rogue never felt like it was written for the casual fan who just wanted to dip his or her toes in the Outer Rim, and I wonder if that may've worked against it in building a wider readership.
Director and storyteller Patty Jenkins clearly saw the potential around such an extension within fandom, and her quickly greenlit but never materialized film incarnation stumbled and chugged about as well as something juryrigged by wayward Jawas. You can't seriously launch a project of that magnitude and hope for it to be authentically successful without having a rough draft of a shooting script in mind; the idea alone was never going to carry the day, so it's no wonder that her project was inevitably shelved by the Mouse House.
But in the wake of that failure ... could an all-new Rogue Squadron be exactly what Star Wars needs to make a small screen comeback?
While others on the podcast largely dismissed such prospects as Bantha poodoo, I think it could be a grand idea. The X-Wings and its cadre of fighter pilots are probably as remembered and revered from the I.P. as are the original characters. Back in the days of my distant youth, every boy in school wanted to be Luke Skywalker buzzing about the stars in the cockpit of a fighter jet; and certainly the popularity of such films as Top Gun (1986) and Top Gun: Maverick (2022) suggest that audiences might well be equally jazzed by the prospects of flitting about the wide blue yonder in pursuit of bogies and bandits. Maybe a series of modestly produced television series -- the kind of which run about four to six episodes -- might be a way to renew fandom for what could be one more Golden Age in the world that George built.
It's familiar. It's popular. And it's pliable in such a way as it could function on more than a single level. Damn near any story could be wrapped around a team of crack star commandos sent out in service to the Republic and/or the Rebellion.
If you're listened, Lucasfilm, why not encourage audiences to buckle up once again?
-- EZ
Last week sometime during one of the podcasts I listened to that dealt in no small way with the Walt Disney Company's (cough cough) Earnings Call, there was a board of several pundits throwing around various ideas and/or exercises that they thought might invigorate the failing Star Wars franchise. While I think that there was some consensus that excursions to that galaxy far, far away have always worked best on the silver screen, the discussion quickly turned to how a new studio head for Lucasfilm might best incorporate all media in an inclusive strategy meant to kickstart cultural interest. I think what kinda/sorta was mentioned but got glossed over in the chat was precisely how Star Wars pretty much returned from the dead back in the early 1990's and how this orchestrated roll-out works magnificently almost every single time it's tried.
Pay attention, younglings and padawans: this is a brief history lesson.
Believe it or not, our beloved Star Wars faded into near-obscurity not long after Return Of The Jedi (1983) came and went from the box office. Oh, of course, there were home video releases and a few TV incarnations that tickled only a modest fancy; but by the end of the 1980's it seemed as though Luke, Han, Leia, Darth, Chewie, and the whole gang were pretty much forgotten. Also, there was the occasional mention in the press that George Lucas was eventually intending to tell 'the rest of the story,' but fans were given absolutely no timeframe with which we could cling to or hold out hope for more of the same. In practical terms, Star Wars was dead ... only until it wasn't.
This turnabout came, largely, in the spring of 1991 when Timothy Zahn's stellar Heir To The Empire so fantastically catapulted audiences back to these beloved worlds in a hugely successful way. Our original heroes were back in action, battling the forces of evil that emerged long after the fall of Palpatine's Empire; and readers were ultimately treated to what many felt like should have been the Sequel Trilogy instead of what the Mouse House delivered. (No, no, and no: we are not having this argument again, people. I'm just stating facts!) Zahn gave fans a taste of what the future for Star Wars could've looked like, and it was upon this new wave of interest that Lucasfilm expanded its universe with novels, comic books, and games.
Somewhere along the way, Dark Horse Comics also tapped a very fluid vein with the creation of several Rogue Squadron event series. These multi-issue stories were arguably a bit deeper and maybe even more ponderous than the usual comic book fare, enticing readers with adventures that (in no small way) fill in the voids left around many of the larger novels. Several of these characters jumped from the pages of print into full comic's color; and there were even many events explored from multiple perspectives across all media. This was, indeed, a fabulous time to jump aboard the exploding Star Wars universe; and I think this is why so many pundits in fandom these days still harken back to the E.U. (Expanded Universe) as being the franchise's second Golden Age.
(I will say that, having not read all that came out in this time, I'd still agree with those sentiments. There was a lot of really, really, really good stuff introduced into canon -- a mythology that the Walt Disney Company, sadly, excised -- and here's hoping if nothing else you folks might go out and pick something up today to see what you missed. It's quite dynamic.)
Now, the reason I bring this up is that one of the pundits in a podcast I listened to (I believe it was YouTube.com's WDWPro) suggested that Lucasfilm might want to look to the past in order to chart a better path to the future ... and one of those properties might very well be to re-introduce Rogue Squadron. I'm here to say that I strongly agree.
For those unaware, Rogue Squadron came about from Dark Horse with its first issue in 1995, and it ran for what Google.com reports to be 35 issues. While some might not see that as a particular ly impressive run, I could still make a strong argument that Rogue rather deftly stepped into and around a whole lot of what was going on fictionally in the Star Wars galaxy at that time, plucking the occasional character here and there from one of the novels and giving him or her a wider backstory with which to evolve. As imperfect as it may've been executed at the time, Rogue conceptually was a near perfect foundation with which to explore the growing people, places and events. Personally, I think the reason it may not have endured could be that it tried a bit too hard to fit in with other stories when it could very well have branched out on its own as an entirely separate entity. I don't mind a bit of crossover, but you risk offending readers who aren't as involved with Star Wars' emerging timelines by invoking those particulars. Rogue never felt like it was written for the casual fan who just wanted to dip his or her toes in the Outer Rim, and I wonder if that may've worked against it in building a wider readership.
Director and storyteller Patty Jenkins clearly saw the potential around such an extension within fandom, and her quickly greenlit but never materialized film incarnation stumbled and chugged about as well as something juryrigged by wayward Jawas. You can't seriously launch a project of that magnitude and hope for it to be authentically successful without having a rough draft of a shooting script in mind; the idea alone was never going to carry the day, so it's no wonder that her project was inevitably shelved by the Mouse House.
But in the wake of that failure ... could an all-new Rogue Squadron be exactly what Star Wars needs to make a small screen comeback?
While others on the podcast largely dismissed such prospects as Bantha poodoo, I think it could be a grand idea. The X-Wings and its cadre of fighter pilots are probably as remembered and revered from the I.P. as are the original characters. Back in the days of my distant youth, every boy in school wanted to be Luke Skywalker buzzing about the stars in the cockpit of a fighter jet; and certainly the popularity of such films as Top Gun (1986) and Top Gun: Maverick (2022) suggest that audiences might well be equally jazzed by the prospects of flitting about the wide blue yonder in pursuit of bogies and bandits. Maybe a series of modestly produced television series -- the kind of which run about four to six episodes -- might be a way to renew fandom for what could be one more Golden Age in the world that George built.
It's familiar. It's popular. And it's pliable in such a way as it could function on more than a single level. Damn near any story could be wrapped around a team of crack star commandos sent out in service to the Republic and/or the Rebellion.
If you're listened, Lucasfilm, why not encourage audiences to buckle up once again?
-- EZ
- Published on
Though I could be wrong, I suspect that a film like District 9 could've been a difficult proposition -- on paper -- for any studio to get behind.
Why do I say such a thing for a highly regarded Science Fiction gem?
Studios -- and storytellers, occasionally -- do not like to mix formulas all that often, and -- in case you've not seen the motion picture -- roughly the first half of it is told in a mockumtary format. This arrival of aliens to our planet unfurls in documentary style, and there's a good deal of unintended humor to it. However, at one point, that narrative structure goes completely away; and it becomes one of the big screens most profound explorations of the human spirit -- in an alien guise -- that perhaps we've seen in some time. In fact, writer/director Neill Blomkamp has long promised a follow-up to this early picture in his career; while he's gone on to a good deal of lackluster flicks, I'd love to see him revisit this if for no other reason to resolve that story thread left dangling in the feature's closing moments.
Of course, it goes without saying that any revisitation to the world as created in the original is a pretty significant risk. The first was done to well and resonated with so many who saw it on so many levels that a cheap, quick, and dirty attempt would likely leave viewers with a bad taste in their mouths not only for the follow-up but could tarnish the charm of the predecessor. Having done a bit of searching online regarding the status for what's been rumored to be 'District 10,' I think it's still safe to say that Blomkamp hasn't been entirely successful in getting something off the ground. At times, he's said (in 2021) that a smaller, less theatrical script was in development; but now I'm seeing indications that Sony -- the studio almost always associated with the follow-up -- was wanting something bigger. From an article I found published in May of 2023, there's still no indication of a project being greenlit.
Why do I say such a thing for a highly regarded Science Fiction gem?
Studios -- and storytellers, occasionally -- do not like to mix formulas all that often, and -- in case you've not seen the motion picture -- roughly the first half of it is told in a mockumtary format. This arrival of aliens to our planet unfurls in documentary style, and there's a good deal of unintended humor to it. However, at one point, that narrative structure goes completely away; and it becomes one of the big screens most profound explorations of the human spirit -- in an alien guise -- that perhaps we've seen in some time. In fact, writer/director Neill Blomkamp has long promised a follow-up to this early picture in his career; while he's gone on to a good deal of lackluster flicks, I'd love to see him revisit this if for no other reason to resolve that story thread left dangling in the feature's closing moments.
Of course, it goes without saying that any revisitation to the world as created in the original is a pretty significant risk. The first was done to well and resonated with so many who saw it on so many levels that a cheap, quick, and dirty attempt would likely leave viewers with a bad taste in their mouths not only for the follow-up but could tarnish the charm of the predecessor. Having done a bit of searching online regarding the status for what's been rumored to be 'District 10,' I think it's still safe to say that Blomkamp hasn't been entirely successful in getting something off the ground. At times, he's said (in 2021) that a smaller, less theatrical script was in development; but now I'm seeing indications that Sony -- the studio almost always associated with the follow-up -- was wanting something bigger. From an article I found published in May of 2023, there's still no indication of a project being greenlit.
Lastly, I think even actor Sharlto Copley has both talked up the prospects for a sequel as well as hinting at some frustrations with Blomkamp's inability to be honest with all involved about the project. Will it happen? Or will it be forever relegated to that growing stockpile of sequels that just never -- for whatever reason -- transpired? It would be sad, true, if we were never given the proper closure to the story ... but viewers have been left with unanswered questions with far too many Science Fiction and Fantasy projects over the decades ... so buckle up for the long haul, folks.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
-- EZ
- Published on
Folks, folks, folks ... calm down!
I've said on far too many occasions that -- generally speaking -- I try to keep politics and 'the real world' as out of these pages as I can. While I've from time-to-time taken the opportunity to sound off on the political and/or cultural issues of the day, I've also often said that such treatises bailiwick. In fact, I've often pointed out that if you want that type of discourse it's rather widely available at so many other stops along the Information Superhighway -- everyone and their mother's uncle have channels on YouTube.com, Rumble.com, and elsewhere -- and I've even encouraged a few of you (privately) about whom you might want to give a listen. This isn't to say that I have no opinions on such topics: rather, it's that I think there are hundreds if not thousands of pundits who do that 'thang' very well. Why would I wish to hop into that fray?
But ... yes, I'll agree that it grows harder and harder each day, especially when fans like you and I have to kinda/sorta sit it out on the sidelines watching some of the biggest and (cough cough) brightest minds destroy the IPs that might be nearest and dearest to our hearts. Mind you: just because a dozen or so of you ask for my opinion doesn't make my statement any more or less correct than any other bloke with a keyboard and a website. I realize that the difference might be that I'll evaluate where things are against the backdrop of entertainment history; and yet again some of the folks already doing this stuff out there do manage to bring a good sense of what's come before to their discussions of where we might be headed. Let it be said that -- circumstantially, of course -- I support ALL OF FANDOM, not just my own private little corner of the Webosphere. Fandom rocks ... and because I believe this I think I will offer up a few delicate words on the subject of Star Wars -- and maybe a bit of Marvel -- as it pertains to the current predicament that is the Walt Disney Company.
Now, regular readers of this space know full well -- or they should by now -- that I'm no huge Marvel fan. Haters, this doesn't mean I dislike the various characters and films or even the enterprise as a whole; it just means, simply, that I don't identify with the players, missions, and whatnot. While I'll always concede that the movers and shakers within the company seem to more-often-than-not have a good command of what their fans what and what they'll spend money on, I think it's safe to suggest -- given the performance of a few films and some of these limited series on Disney+ -- that isn't always the case. Because I haven't watch some of it I don't feel grounded enough to comment upon the quality; and still I've seen some footage online that hasn't exactly looked top notch in any respect.
Could they have gone too far too fast?
This seems to be the going 'defense' among the most serious and learned Marvel fans; and I suppose that argument might have some merit. Those of us who've followed the wider entertainment industry over the years have always tried to caution audiences that studios will not hit a homerun at every instance they go to bat, and unfortunately the response from these fans has mostly been to thumb their noses at us. When you had box office receipts and critical acclaim on your side, I think you felt comfortable doing so (and you're always free to do it, anyway); but where has all of that gotten you and Marvel? It would seem that perhaps watering down the IP with more and more and more might very well have worked against serious development to the point wherein now there's almost unity around just how bad Marvel's Secret Invasion truly was.
Pushing ideology at the expense of character and story is never -- NEVER -- a good tactic.
I tried making this exact point the other day when I appeared as a guest on the Hyperspace Heroes Podcast, and -- since speaking off-the-cuff has never been a strong skill of mine -- I may've missed the mark a bit, but I'll try to summarize it here.
Let's say you start out with a fanbase of 50,000,000 smilers.
Inevitably, membership fluctuates over time. A popular movie or trendy show might bump it up a bit, but the same often occurs simultaneously -- viewers grow weary, life and interests push them in a new direction, etc. -- so let's just assume for the sake of argument that, 10-20 years later, that 50M dips down to 40M. I suggest this is probably closer to truth (than the base growing exponentially) because most folks don't realize how incredibly rare such a phenomenon is. (In fact, I've only seen three, maybe four TV shows in my lifetime that have grown exponentially (in membership) over their short shelf life, and those would be The X-Files, Firefly, Spartacus, and the original Star Trek. (No, I'm not gonna quibble with data; I'm dealing largely anecdotally here, so sue me.)
So your 50M is down to 40M after twenty years ...
Now, combating fatigue when a commodity is twenty years old is not an easy prospect. In fact, fatigue tends to grow more powerful, especially when little is done to rejuvenate a property, so the next ten-to-twenty years are usually very hard to establish positive trends in viewership, clout, etc. As I suggested above, as your likes and preferences change, you may even grow weary of 'more of the same,' and this might force you to only tune in sporadically, especially if there's no compelling reason to keep you invested in the characters and stories. I forget who said -- as a writer -- he'd never write a Superman story because ... well ... he's Superman! What can you do with being invincible? The same effect hits viewers -- if you've watched this character survive for twenty years, then what's the likelihood he/she is going to encounter serious jeopardy now ... after twenty years?
Starting at 40M viewers, what's to happen when the show begins embracing ideology that, say, only 50% of the audience accepts?
Why -- oh why -- would you ever think that telling a story which might offend 50% of your audience is a good idea? With any given movie -- or any given episode -- you're now risking cutting your 40M in half just to produce another chapter in an ongoing saga. Economically, that just isn't smart, and no franchise -- Marvel, DC, Hasbro, etc. -- should be doing that.
But that's where I see Marvel.
Again, feel free to disagree.
I've said on far too many occasions that -- generally speaking -- I try to keep politics and 'the real world' as out of these pages as I can. While I've from time-to-time taken the opportunity to sound off on the political and/or cultural issues of the day, I've also often said that such treatises bailiwick. In fact, I've often pointed out that if you want that type of discourse it's rather widely available at so many other stops along the Information Superhighway -- everyone and their mother's uncle have channels on YouTube.com, Rumble.com, and elsewhere -- and I've even encouraged a few of you (privately) about whom you might want to give a listen. This isn't to say that I have no opinions on such topics: rather, it's that I think there are hundreds if not thousands of pundits who do that 'thang' very well. Why would I wish to hop into that fray?
But ... yes, I'll agree that it grows harder and harder each day, especially when fans like you and I have to kinda/sorta sit it out on the sidelines watching some of the biggest and (cough cough) brightest minds destroy the IPs that might be nearest and dearest to our hearts. Mind you: just because a dozen or so of you ask for my opinion doesn't make my statement any more or less correct than any other bloke with a keyboard and a website. I realize that the difference might be that I'll evaluate where things are against the backdrop of entertainment history; and yet again some of the folks already doing this stuff out there do manage to bring a good sense of what's come before to their discussions of where we might be headed. Let it be said that -- circumstantially, of course -- I support ALL OF FANDOM, not just my own private little corner of the Webosphere. Fandom rocks ... and because I believe this I think I will offer up a few delicate words on the subject of Star Wars -- and maybe a bit of Marvel -- as it pertains to the current predicament that is the Walt Disney Company.
Now, regular readers of this space know full well -- or they should by now -- that I'm no huge Marvel fan. Haters, this doesn't mean I dislike the various characters and films or even the enterprise as a whole; it just means, simply, that I don't identify with the players, missions, and whatnot. While I'll always concede that the movers and shakers within the company seem to more-often-than-not have a good command of what their fans what and what they'll spend money on, I think it's safe to suggest -- given the performance of a few films and some of these limited series on Disney+ -- that isn't always the case. Because I haven't watch some of it I don't feel grounded enough to comment upon the quality; and still I've seen some footage online that hasn't exactly looked top notch in any respect.
Could they have gone too far too fast?
This seems to be the going 'defense' among the most serious and learned Marvel fans; and I suppose that argument might have some merit. Those of us who've followed the wider entertainment industry over the years have always tried to caution audiences that studios will not hit a homerun at every instance they go to bat, and unfortunately the response from these fans has mostly been to thumb their noses at us. When you had box office receipts and critical acclaim on your side, I think you felt comfortable doing so (and you're always free to do it, anyway); but where has all of that gotten you and Marvel? It would seem that perhaps watering down the IP with more and more and more might very well have worked against serious development to the point wherein now there's almost unity around just how bad Marvel's Secret Invasion truly was.
Pushing ideology at the expense of character and story is never -- NEVER -- a good tactic.
I tried making this exact point the other day when I appeared as a guest on the Hyperspace Heroes Podcast, and -- since speaking off-the-cuff has never been a strong skill of mine -- I may've missed the mark a bit, but I'll try to summarize it here.
Let's say you start out with a fanbase of 50,000,000 smilers.
Inevitably, membership fluctuates over time. A popular movie or trendy show might bump it up a bit, but the same often occurs simultaneously -- viewers grow weary, life and interests push them in a new direction, etc. -- so let's just assume for the sake of argument that, 10-20 years later, that 50M dips down to 40M. I suggest this is probably closer to truth (than the base growing exponentially) because most folks don't realize how incredibly rare such a phenomenon is. (In fact, I've only seen three, maybe four TV shows in my lifetime that have grown exponentially (in membership) over their short shelf life, and those would be The X-Files, Firefly, Spartacus, and the original Star Trek. (No, I'm not gonna quibble with data; I'm dealing largely anecdotally here, so sue me.)
So your 50M is down to 40M after twenty years ...
Now, combating fatigue when a commodity is twenty years old is not an easy prospect. In fact, fatigue tends to grow more powerful, especially when little is done to rejuvenate a property, so the next ten-to-twenty years are usually very hard to establish positive trends in viewership, clout, etc. As I suggested above, as your likes and preferences change, you may even grow weary of 'more of the same,' and this might force you to only tune in sporadically, especially if there's no compelling reason to keep you invested in the characters and stories. I forget who said -- as a writer -- he'd never write a Superman story because ... well ... he's Superman! What can you do with being invincible? The same effect hits viewers -- if you've watched this character survive for twenty years, then what's the likelihood he/she is going to encounter serious jeopardy now ... after twenty years?
Starting at 40M viewers, what's to happen when the show begins embracing ideology that, say, only 50% of the audience accepts?
Why -- oh why -- would you ever think that telling a story which might offend 50% of your audience is a good idea? With any given movie -- or any given episode -- you're now risking cutting your 40M in half just to produce another chapter in an ongoing saga. Economically, that just isn't smart, and no franchise -- Marvel, DC, Hasbro, etc. -- should be doing that.
But that's where I see Marvel.
Again, feel free to disagree.
Don't believe what studio heads tell you: audiences want to experience characters that evolve.
A writer who says he has nothing to say by writing a Superman story is a writer who -- arguably -- may not be as talented a creative as he thinks he is. Every character -- no matter how big, no matter how small -- has something to offer an audience if he or she is given a compelling narrative. Superheroes have to have something to do, and the real seed that feeds every good story is what can be done with the central conflict. It isn't enough for Superman -- or, say, a Jedi -- to simply use his or her powers: they must use them for good, their use of said powers should be in defense of the proper choice, and then there must be some corresponding development from the actions taken.
Example: Luke, Han, and Leia destroyed the Death Star, right?
Well ... what happened next?
Albeit it was three years later, the Empire struck back is what happened. And it was glorious. What we learned as an audience is that the actions that we cherished of our heroes had serious, serious, serious consequences for that galaxy far, far away; and practically everything that happened in that next iteration of the ongoing saga felt organic. It felt natural. It felt right. We learned that heroes don't always win (or win without consequence), and this meant that our heroes would have to go back to the drawing board, maybe build a few more alliances, accept their loss gracefully, and come back ready to (finally) seize the day in the last chapter (which is what they did, more or less, until the God awful Sequel Trilogy, but don't get me started).
Now -- and, again, feel free to disagree with me all you like -- I don't think anyone in the audience was opposed to the death of Luke Skywalker. Death is a part of life -- even fictional lives -- and despite wishing that our heroes can last forever I think there's also something within each of us that reminds us just how fragile life is. It was always going to happen one way or another -- Luke was going to end, and the torch was going to be passed -- but I think what the studio delivered was a rather lackluster affair all sandwiched around no real evolution of the premise. The Empire was still The Empire -- under a new name, of course -- and there really was no one left to pick up the torch that Luke lit and carried brightly for as long as he did.
To a degree, I -- like so many -- thought this was a gaping hole that had finally been filled after the Sequel Trilogy when Disney+ gave us The Mandalorian.
Here -- in Luke's place -- was finally someone who displayed a bit of the same cockiness that our famed Jedi with more than a touch of Han Solo's bravado all wrapped up in a silver package. He'd shoot first and not bother with questions later: the shooting spoke volumes by itself, so what words were even needed? It was, once again, a universe that looked lived in, one with dangers and wonders and threats and triumphs and risks aplenty; and it was populated with characters as interesting as were their settings. The magic and mystery had returned to the house that George built, and the future looked bright.
But the advent of a lackluster if not downright confusingly misdirected Season 3 showed us once again what can happen when studio shenanigans -- or the pushing of an ideological agenda -- rear their ugly head. Ideas were put ahead of characters and stories, and this greatly dimished the quality and the entertainment factor that had briefly felt a bit more like it should. It's not politics alone that kill a story because there are some very, very, very good (if not great) political thrillers out there; but the blind adherence to a political perspective at the expense of story and character never produces a coherent whole. It might win you accolades come the awards season, but it won't win the hearts and minds of FANS who are watching ... and are a necessary component of FUNDING YOUR EFFORTS.
This is where I believe Star Wars is at present. As an Intellectual Property, it's largely being run by folks who either don't care about it and/or see it as a means to an end ... that end being keeping their job. They don't care about what the fans want. They don't care about what the fans say. All they care about is there paychecks. Star Wars -- to them -- is a business. Like any other business. As long as it's doors are open and the lights are on, then they'll be getting their paychecks, and there's absolutely no reason to change the way they're doing things ...
... which brings us to Bob Iger.
A writer who says he has nothing to say by writing a Superman story is a writer who -- arguably -- may not be as talented a creative as he thinks he is. Every character -- no matter how big, no matter how small -- has something to offer an audience if he or she is given a compelling narrative. Superheroes have to have something to do, and the real seed that feeds every good story is what can be done with the central conflict. It isn't enough for Superman -- or, say, a Jedi -- to simply use his or her powers: they must use them for good, their use of said powers should be in defense of the proper choice, and then there must be some corresponding development from the actions taken.
Example: Luke, Han, and Leia destroyed the Death Star, right?
Well ... what happened next?
Albeit it was three years later, the Empire struck back is what happened. And it was glorious. What we learned as an audience is that the actions that we cherished of our heroes had serious, serious, serious consequences for that galaxy far, far away; and practically everything that happened in that next iteration of the ongoing saga felt organic. It felt natural. It felt right. We learned that heroes don't always win (or win without consequence), and this meant that our heroes would have to go back to the drawing board, maybe build a few more alliances, accept their loss gracefully, and come back ready to (finally) seize the day in the last chapter (which is what they did, more or less, until the God awful Sequel Trilogy, but don't get me started).
Now -- and, again, feel free to disagree with me all you like -- I don't think anyone in the audience was opposed to the death of Luke Skywalker. Death is a part of life -- even fictional lives -- and despite wishing that our heroes can last forever I think there's also something within each of us that reminds us just how fragile life is. It was always going to happen one way or another -- Luke was going to end, and the torch was going to be passed -- but I think what the studio delivered was a rather lackluster affair all sandwiched around no real evolution of the premise. The Empire was still The Empire -- under a new name, of course -- and there really was no one left to pick up the torch that Luke lit and carried brightly for as long as he did.
To a degree, I -- like so many -- thought this was a gaping hole that had finally been filled after the Sequel Trilogy when Disney+ gave us The Mandalorian.
Here -- in Luke's place -- was finally someone who displayed a bit of the same cockiness that our famed Jedi with more than a touch of Han Solo's bravado all wrapped up in a silver package. He'd shoot first and not bother with questions later: the shooting spoke volumes by itself, so what words were even needed? It was, once again, a universe that looked lived in, one with dangers and wonders and threats and triumphs and risks aplenty; and it was populated with characters as interesting as were their settings. The magic and mystery had returned to the house that George built, and the future looked bright.
But the advent of a lackluster if not downright confusingly misdirected Season 3 showed us once again what can happen when studio shenanigans -- or the pushing of an ideological agenda -- rear their ugly head. Ideas were put ahead of characters and stories, and this greatly dimished the quality and the entertainment factor that had briefly felt a bit more like it should. It's not politics alone that kill a story because there are some very, very, very good (if not great) political thrillers out there; but the blind adherence to a political perspective at the expense of story and character never produces a coherent whole. It might win you accolades come the awards season, but it won't win the hearts and minds of FANS who are watching ... and are a necessary component of FUNDING YOUR EFFORTS.
This is where I believe Star Wars is at present. As an Intellectual Property, it's largely being run by folks who either don't care about it and/or see it as a means to an end ... that end being keeping their job. They don't care about what the fans want. They don't care about what the fans say. All they care about is there paychecks. Star Wars -- to them -- is a business. Like any other business. As long as it's doors are open and the lights are on, then they'll be getting their paychecks, and there's absolutely no reason to change the way they're doing things ...
... which brings us to Bob Iger.
Historically, Hollywood's problem always has been -- and always will be -- money.
Many a career was made in Tinseltown by an executive who said, "Let's just reshoot it." Sadly, that's a sentiment that in no time flat was happily inherited by the talent, as Robert Downey Jr. rather famously was known for saying around the Iron Man set "Let them fix it in post-production." (Yes, yes, yes: I've taken a lot of heat for remembering and regurgitating that fact over the years, but trust me when I say that mindset is near-and-dear to the current state of the Empire.) Reshoots and fixing it in post tend to astronomically cost more than getting something right the first time, a credo that filmmakers of genre entertainment practically lived by when crafting the flicks of the 1950's, 1960's, and 1970's.
I can't tell you the number of times I've read in interviews of some of those pioneers who remark about how their era truly had to rely on the smarts of damn near everyone on set. It wasn't about the director or the writer or the cast; it was about anyone and everyone. They didn't have special effects houses that they could contract to fix it in post back in the day; and while some of their results are (cough cough) more charming than they are convincing at times this made everyone on the cast and crew a contributor. They'd collaborate to come up with a workable solution; by hook or by crook, they'd get something in the can because that was what they were hired to do. Failing had consequences ... but that no longer appears to be the reality today.
How can I say that?
Well, can you show me another time in human history where a man who lost a billion dollars last year would be empowered by the board to keep losing money at an alarming rate no matter what? If you or I made such a costly mistake once, then our respective employers might show some kindness, work with us to give us the tools required to keep such a thing from happening again, and maybe we'd keep our jobs. But what if we did it again next month? What if we cost the boss another, say, $1,000? $10,000? $50,000? Folks, it isn't as if this is Bob Iger's first rodeo, and everything he (cough cough) committed to doing in the future this week on that Disney earnings call is part of his job description the moment he took the job ... so why would anyone listening even think this guy should be given the chance to keep Disney on the path to economic oblivion?
What I heard -- unlike so many out there on the Information Superhighway -- was a man who had no vision, but he had plenty of plans. Plans are good, but it's pretty clear that a show like Star Wars: The Acolyte probably didn't start out with a plan that said, "Let's invest $50M before we have a single frame of film shot." I think it's also safe to say that no plan for Indiana Jones And The Dial Of Destiny was hatched by saying, "Don't worry, we'll simply reshoot the film two or three times until we get something that tests well enough with audiences that we can call it a day!" These are not plans, but -- if I'm to take dear ol' Bob at his word -- the Mouse House now going forward will not only have a plan but they'll stick to it?
Where have the plans been all along?
Leadership without a vision is like surfing without water. It's like hammering but having no nails. It's like digging a hole but never knowing what we're expected to find down there. That lack of any compelling vision -- sans the simplest one being just 'to get profitable' which can be accomplished hundreds if not thousands of different ways -- gives people nothing to shoot for except keeping their jobs. And pardon me if I point out that I think that's what I said is the whole problem in an earlier paragraph: these people view what they're doing as jobs, not careers, not storytellers, not mythmakers, not true creatives. These folks are propagandists looking for a payday ... and the way it looks? Dear ol' Bob is only happy to sign a check.
So ... I know, I know, I know. Yes, folks, I hear it every time I open my mouth on matters like this. "Who are you?" "Where are you coming up with this drivel?" "You don't know what you're talking about!" That's precisely why I don't enter into these debates all that often. I've no industry experience, and I've no industry spies filtering information to me. All I have is that same stiff backbone common sense blue collar thinking mentality the rest of us have; so maybe my opinion doesn't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.
But at the end of the day, the Iger call reminded me once again why I (generally speaking) hate corporate politics: words, ultimately, mean nothing when they come from a person who is only engaged by useless rhetoric.
Out here? In reality?
Efforts still have to count for something.
Otherwise, businesses die.
It would be one thing if Iger were only robbing from Peter to pay Paul. But here? Bob Iger is robbing from Peter, Tom, Dick, Harry, Stan, Ollie, Bud, Lou, Mary, Judy, Billy Jo, Ellie Mae, and the whole lot to avoid paying anyone ... and it shows.
-- EZ
Many a career was made in Tinseltown by an executive who said, "Let's just reshoot it." Sadly, that's a sentiment that in no time flat was happily inherited by the talent, as Robert Downey Jr. rather famously was known for saying around the Iron Man set "Let them fix it in post-production." (Yes, yes, yes: I've taken a lot of heat for remembering and regurgitating that fact over the years, but trust me when I say that mindset is near-and-dear to the current state of the Empire.) Reshoots and fixing it in post tend to astronomically cost more than getting something right the first time, a credo that filmmakers of genre entertainment practically lived by when crafting the flicks of the 1950's, 1960's, and 1970's.
I can't tell you the number of times I've read in interviews of some of those pioneers who remark about how their era truly had to rely on the smarts of damn near everyone on set. It wasn't about the director or the writer or the cast; it was about anyone and everyone. They didn't have special effects houses that they could contract to fix it in post back in the day; and while some of their results are (cough cough) more charming than they are convincing at times this made everyone on the cast and crew a contributor. They'd collaborate to come up with a workable solution; by hook or by crook, they'd get something in the can because that was what they were hired to do. Failing had consequences ... but that no longer appears to be the reality today.
How can I say that?
Well, can you show me another time in human history where a man who lost a billion dollars last year would be empowered by the board to keep losing money at an alarming rate no matter what? If you or I made such a costly mistake once, then our respective employers might show some kindness, work with us to give us the tools required to keep such a thing from happening again, and maybe we'd keep our jobs. But what if we did it again next month? What if we cost the boss another, say, $1,000? $10,000? $50,000? Folks, it isn't as if this is Bob Iger's first rodeo, and everything he (cough cough) committed to doing in the future this week on that Disney earnings call is part of his job description the moment he took the job ... so why would anyone listening even think this guy should be given the chance to keep Disney on the path to economic oblivion?
What I heard -- unlike so many out there on the Information Superhighway -- was a man who had no vision, but he had plenty of plans. Plans are good, but it's pretty clear that a show like Star Wars: The Acolyte probably didn't start out with a plan that said, "Let's invest $50M before we have a single frame of film shot." I think it's also safe to say that no plan for Indiana Jones And The Dial Of Destiny was hatched by saying, "Don't worry, we'll simply reshoot the film two or three times until we get something that tests well enough with audiences that we can call it a day!" These are not plans, but -- if I'm to take dear ol' Bob at his word -- the Mouse House now going forward will not only have a plan but they'll stick to it?
Where have the plans been all along?
Leadership without a vision is like surfing without water. It's like hammering but having no nails. It's like digging a hole but never knowing what we're expected to find down there. That lack of any compelling vision -- sans the simplest one being just 'to get profitable' which can be accomplished hundreds if not thousands of different ways -- gives people nothing to shoot for except keeping their jobs. And pardon me if I point out that I think that's what I said is the whole problem in an earlier paragraph: these people view what they're doing as jobs, not careers, not storytellers, not mythmakers, not true creatives. These folks are propagandists looking for a payday ... and the way it looks? Dear ol' Bob is only happy to sign a check.
So ... I know, I know, I know. Yes, folks, I hear it every time I open my mouth on matters like this. "Who are you?" "Where are you coming up with this drivel?" "You don't know what you're talking about!" That's precisely why I don't enter into these debates all that often. I've no industry experience, and I've no industry spies filtering information to me. All I have is that same stiff backbone common sense blue collar thinking mentality the rest of us have; so maybe my opinion doesn't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.
But at the end of the day, the Iger call reminded me once again why I (generally speaking) hate corporate politics: words, ultimately, mean nothing when they come from a person who is only engaged by useless rhetoric.
Out here? In reality?
Efforts still have to count for something.
Otherwise, businesses die.
It would be one thing if Iger were only robbing from Peter to pay Paul. But here? Bob Iger is robbing from Peter, Tom, Dick, Harry, Stan, Ollie, Bud, Lou, Mary, Judy, Billy Jo, Ellie Mae, and the whole lot to avoid paying anyone ... and it shows.
-- EZ
- Published on
Is it ... is that ... why, yes ... it's finally here ... Happy Friday, gentle readers!
You did it! You made it through another week of grinding work only to arrive at the weekend once more! And you know what that means! Food! Drinks! Wine! Women! Song! And a good time should be had by all!
Aaaaaah ... back to business ...
Not a whole lot to report for today. I had to take one of the kitties to the vet for a shot. I think the cat's dealing with a bit of feline ataxia, but the vet seems to think it might just be the onset of arthritis (sp?). What do I know? So they wanted to give Jo another shot of this special meds to see if another 30 days might show a different result. It's sad to watch a pet in decline -- no matter what ails them -- but I soldier ever onward.
Otherwise, there's a bit to behold on August 11th. I did look at the page yesterday, and I was reminded of the great work Stuart Gordon brought to genre entertainment. He was a bit of a mad genius when it came to adapting the works of H.P. Lovecraft to something, and I've no doubt that will always be his enduring legacy. His Robot Jox (1989/1990) remains a feature that I think it was the better B-Movies to emerge from the 1980's; if you've not seen it, then you're missing something special.
But here it is ... in all of its glory ...
You did it! You made it through another week of grinding work only to arrive at the weekend once more! And you know what that means! Food! Drinks! Wine! Women! Song! And a good time should be had by all!
Aaaaaah ... back to business ...
Not a whole lot to report for today. I had to take one of the kitties to the vet for a shot. I think the cat's dealing with a bit of feline ataxia, but the vet seems to think it might just be the onset of arthritis (sp?). What do I know? So they wanted to give Jo another shot of this special meds to see if another 30 days might show a different result. It's sad to watch a pet in decline -- no matter what ails them -- but I soldier ever onward.
Otherwise, there's a bit to behold on August 11th. I did look at the page yesterday, and I was reminded of the great work Stuart Gordon brought to genre entertainment. He was a bit of a mad genius when it came to adapting the works of H.P. Lovecraft to something, and I've no doubt that will always be his enduring legacy. His Robot Jox (1989/1990) remains a feature that I think it was the better B-Movies to emerge from the 1980's; if you've not seen it, then you're missing something special.
But here it is ... in all of its glory ...
Otherwise, I have a chance to see Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace on the silver screen tomorrow, and I'm thinking I'll take it. No, no, and no: it's certainly not one of my favorite Star Wars films -- by any stretch of the imagination -- but you don't get to see something that visually stunning on the big screen all that often, so I don't think I can pass it up.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ