- 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 episode’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A troubled starlet is dogged by invasive paparazzi while dealing with the consequences of a hit-and-run incident.”
Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?
Well, I guess that depends on just who the wolf truly is.
It goes without saying that the very best anthologies – past and present – often do rely on some storytelling misdirect in order to achieve the biggest gasps from their at-home audiences.
You know how this works, don’t you? The story begins, and – for all intents and purposes – it typically looks like something you may or may not have seen before. Any yarn’s opening shots are damn near predicated on establishing some understandable playing field for which these new characters are about to intersect. The resulting drama of their intersections is, therefore, gauged on how well the tale fatefully changes direction: fans of the M. Night Shyamalan library will call it ‘the big twist,’ and TV anthologies in particular have been making great use of this storytelling framework since … since … well? I guess since TV anthologies began.
In all honesty, I haven’t been all that impressed with a good deal of Black Mirror’s run. This isn’t to say that I haven’t been entertained because that would be pretty far from the truth; what it does mean, however, is that those episodes relying heavily on these thematic misdirects just haven’t been either all that fresh or delivered with the kind of ‘punch to the gut’ that I think worthy of highlight. Again, I realize some of this comes down to a judgment call by each viewer – what surprises you may not be what surprises me, and vice versa, just like what I like, expect, and reward in any story tends to differ – but I’d still argue that Mirror’s production qualities and casting choices have far surpassed most of its episodes endurability, meaning I’ve very little desire to watch them again after viewing them once.
Again, folks: I’m only speaking for me. That’s all I ever speak for. You do you. I do me. Feel free to differ, as such is life.
That rewatchability might just change with “Mazey Day.”
Emmy-nominated director Uta Briesewitz rather masterfully takes viewers on a wonderfully dark and delightful visual interpretation of Charlie Brooker’s winking-and-nodding dissection of modern celebrity. What you think is going to be a commentary on our cultural (and unhealthy) obsession with knowing all that we can with screen starlets instead turns out to be an indictment of those who traffic in such gossip. Yes, Briesewitz, Brooker, and crew might be throwing out a few barbs about our society-at-large and just how far we’ve sunk into the mire of contemptibility on a regular basis; but I think the hour’s last scene – that of a picture taker’s willingness to meet her latest subject’s dying wish and, yet, still do her job – is the kind of thing that ought to produce chills far greater than any bloodied and frenzied attack caught earlier in the episode. Showing just how far one paparazzi photographer is willing to go to capture the perfect pic of a life in transition … all for the sake of the mighty dollar … ought to frighten everyone.
Still, that isn’t the only misdirect involved in telling Mazey’s story. It’s just the better one. The first half relies on Brooker taking his viewers in one calculated direction – suggesting that the young starlet has engaged in a hit-and-run while high on mushrooms – truly aims audiences at a rather easy target. Right? Today’s 24-hour news cycle has produced endless content about actors, actresses, directors, producers, and the willing lackies doing some unconscionable things (cue Harvey Weinstein, Joss Whedon, and Jussie Smollet for the big wins), but that would be a rather easy if not somewhat lazy construct for the territory usually staked out by Black Mirror. And – for that matter – so are the scenes and suggestions that celebrity doctors have also engaged in such nefarious tactics that under normal circumstances would be a violation (minimally) of the Hippocratic Oath.
However, those are necessary evils meant to conceal what truly afflicts Mazey (played by Clara Rugaard). While her destiny was undoubtedly affected by a chance encounter (with a lycanthropic twist), our central photographer and narrative adversary Bo (played by Zazie Beetz) chose the road to Hell entirely of her own conviction.
Black Mirror’s “Mazey Day” (S06E04) was produced by Charlie Brooker and company in cooperation with Netflix. The episode is currently available for viewing on the streaming giant. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the accompanying sights and sounds were exceptional from start-to-finish. Also, I absolutely loved the werewolf effects in the hour. Some of them appeared practical, and I’ve no doubt some of them were CGI, but kudos to the effects team all around as this was exceedingly well crafted.
Highly recommended.
As I said above, I realize that not every story measures up to fandom’s expectations, but I found “Mazey Day” one of Black Mirror’s better diversions. I say this largely because it didn’t quite go where I imagined, taking me instead into a contemporary variation (of sorts) – a riff, if you will – of Joseph Campbell’s “Heart Of Darkness.” You go into any journey thinking you know who the villain will be, and this one surprised me in a few ways that rewarded my patience with something to think about in its last scenes. At my advanced age? That’s rare. And worthy of reward.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the entire sixth season of Black Mirror is presently available to me as a current Netflix subscriber, and I was provided absolutely no advance screening of any episodes in exchange for a complimentary review.
-- EZ
From the episode’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A troubled starlet is dogged by invasive paparazzi while dealing with the consequences of a hit-and-run incident.”
Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?
Well, I guess that depends on just who the wolf truly is.
It goes without saying that the very best anthologies – past and present – often do rely on some storytelling misdirect in order to achieve the biggest gasps from their at-home audiences.
You know how this works, don’t you? The story begins, and – for all intents and purposes – it typically looks like something you may or may not have seen before. Any yarn’s opening shots are damn near predicated on establishing some understandable playing field for which these new characters are about to intersect. The resulting drama of their intersections is, therefore, gauged on how well the tale fatefully changes direction: fans of the M. Night Shyamalan library will call it ‘the big twist,’ and TV anthologies in particular have been making great use of this storytelling framework since … since … well? I guess since TV anthologies began.
In all honesty, I haven’t been all that impressed with a good deal of Black Mirror’s run. This isn’t to say that I haven’t been entertained because that would be pretty far from the truth; what it does mean, however, is that those episodes relying heavily on these thematic misdirects just haven’t been either all that fresh or delivered with the kind of ‘punch to the gut’ that I think worthy of highlight. Again, I realize some of this comes down to a judgment call by each viewer – what surprises you may not be what surprises me, and vice versa, just like what I like, expect, and reward in any story tends to differ – but I’d still argue that Mirror’s production qualities and casting choices have far surpassed most of its episodes endurability, meaning I’ve very little desire to watch them again after viewing them once.
Again, folks: I’m only speaking for me. That’s all I ever speak for. You do you. I do me. Feel free to differ, as such is life.
That rewatchability might just change with “Mazey Day.”
Emmy-nominated director Uta Briesewitz rather masterfully takes viewers on a wonderfully dark and delightful visual interpretation of Charlie Brooker’s winking-and-nodding dissection of modern celebrity. What you think is going to be a commentary on our cultural (and unhealthy) obsession with knowing all that we can with screen starlets instead turns out to be an indictment of those who traffic in such gossip. Yes, Briesewitz, Brooker, and crew might be throwing out a few barbs about our society-at-large and just how far we’ve sunk into the mire of contemptibility on a regular basis; but I think the hour’s last scene – that of a picture taker’s willingness to meet her latest subject’s dying wish and, yet, still do her job – is the kind of thing that ought to produce chills far greater than any bloodied and frenzied attack caught earlier in the episode. Showing just how far one paparazzi photographer is willing to go to capture the perfect pic of a life in transition … all for the sake of the mighty dollar … ought to frighten everyone.
Still, that isn’t the only misdirect involved in telling Mazey’s story. It’s just the better one. The first half relies on Brooker taking his viewers in one calculated direction – suggesting that the young starlet has engaged in a hit-and-run while high on mushrooms – truly aims audiences at a rather easy target. Right? Today’s 24-hour news cycle has produced endless content about actors, actresses, directors, producers, and the willing lackies doing some unconscionable things (cue Harvey Weinstein, Joss Whedon, and Jussie Smollet for the big wins), but that would be a rather easy if not somewhat lazy construct for the territory usually staked out by Black Mirror. And – for that matter – so are the scenes and suggestions that celebrity doctors have also engaged in such nefarious tactics that under normal circumstances would be a violation (minimally) of the Hippocratic Oath.
However, those are necessary evils meant to conceal what truly afflicts Mazey (played by Clara Rugaard). While her destiny was undoubtedly affected by a chance encounter (with a lycanthropic twist), our central photographer and narrative adversary Bo (played by Zazie Beetz) chose the road to Hell entirely of her own conviction.
Black Mirror’s “Mazey Day” (S06E04) was produced by Charlie Brooker and company in cooperation with Netflix. The episode is currently available for viewing on the streaming giant. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the accompanying sights and sounds were exceptional from start-to-finish. Also, I absolutely loved the werewolf effects in the hour. Some of them appeared practical, and I’ve no doubt some of them were CGI, but kudos to the effects team all around as this was exceedingly well crafted.
Highly recommended.
As I said above, I realize that not every story measures up to fandom’s expectations, but I found “Mazey Day” one of Black Mirror’s better diversions. I say this largely because it didn’t quite go where I imagined, taking me instead into a contemporary variation (of sorts) – a riff, if you will – of Joseph Campbell’s “Heart Of Darkness.” You go into any journey thinking you know who the villain will be, and this one surprised me in a few ways that rewarded my patience with something to think about in its last scenes. At my advanced age? That’s rare. And worthy of reward.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the entire sixth season of Black Mirror is presently available to me as a current Netflix subscriber, and I was provided absolutely no advance screening of any episodes in exchange for a complimentary review.
-- 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 show’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Maggie finds Negan and they travel to Manhattan, meeting a quiet young girl named Ginny. A marshal named Armstrong follows Negan.”
Honestly, folks, I’ve had a love/hate relationship with just about all of The Walking Dead’s spinoff shows, and I think it’s safe to say that I lean very strongly more toward the ‘hate’ column than I do the ‘love.’ In my defense, I can say some of this is owed to the fact that I think the handlers of the entire franchise have engaged far too often in a bit of … erm … let’s just call it selective disinformation about each of these incarnations. And, yes, I think that’s hurt the overall brand, to the point wherein most of fandom can painfully see that TWD – as a one-time television juggernaut that was about as ‘must-see’ as anything – continues to die a slow death.
Since I brought it up, here’s an example or two. Prior to the airing of The Walking Dead: Fear The Walking Dead premiering on television, the producers had promised on multiple occasions that the central focus was to serve as a bit of a prequel to The Walking Dead, fleshing out some of the answers to questions about when and where this plague came from and how it all may’ve led up to the End Times as depicted in this universe. Once the show got here, though, it turned out very quickly to be nothing of the sort, instead going down the same narrative roads already covered in great detail in TWD, so I tuned out of it after its second blood season.
Next up: The Walking Dead: World Beyond promised to try to deliver a bit of freshness to the wide, wide world of the Zombie Apocalypse by exploring what life would be like for a band of youngsters who grew up never knowing what existence was like before our televised demise. Again, the showrunners gave those of us who enjoyed this franchise a bit of hope that this would deliver a something that didn’t look so much like what came before … only to let us down with some of the blandest character creations in all of television essentially just racing against time to avoid being eaten alive. Nothing new. Nothing different.
Lastly: Tales Of The Walking Dead was reportedly engineered (once again) to tell audiences some stand-alone adventures set within the established universe involving both known and unknown characters we’d come to (hopefully) know and love in new, innovative ways. Once its episodes were broadcast, however, there were no proven commodities: what they did deliver were some big-name talent clearly looking for a one-off experience within TWD – nothing wrong with that – but the writing was, at best, a mixed bad of curious misfires, sometimes even oddly comical if not tonally inconsistent with the franchise.
Did these folks even care any longer about the Dead … or were they just cashing their paychecks?
Sigh.
Well … this last Sunday brought yet one more highly-touted addition to TWD Universe as The Walking Dead: Dead City made its small screen premiere on AMC. To the program’s benefit, the showrunners have not gone to any lengths (at least, none that I’m aware of) to promise that Dead City would be anything different, which is good because after digesting all of its first hour – appropriately named “Old Acquaintances” – I can attest that there’s absolutely nothing new here.
Fan favorite character Maggie Rhee (played by Lauren Cohan) is finally ready for her close-up. Though she’s sharing the limelight with the equally popular character Negan Smith (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) in much the same way Cagney & Lacey, Starsky & Hutch, and Abbott & Costello did in their respective eras, the inaugural outing felt well-balanced, giving both stars just enough leg room to do what they do best … which apparently shapes up very quickly to be little more than what they’ve done before across multiple seasons of TWD. Yes, they’re still working together yet scholastically at odds – those unaware of the death of Maggie’s husband at the end of Negan’s bat Lucille might wanna do some Googling to be brought up to speed – and the Dead are still out-and-about as audiences expect. But, hey, this one’s got the Big Apple as the backdrop instead of rural America, so that’s got to count for somethin’, am I right?
Sigh.
What’s changed? Erm … Maggie’s still not a great parent: her only child Herschel has been abducted by a baddie who’s known only as ‘The Croat’ in response to her community’s failure to provide ‘The Croat’ and his minions with the necessary tribute of food and supplies. (Wasn’t this largely a plot behind multiple enemies faced already on TWD?) Now, just what ‘The Croat’ and company were doing heading so far down from New York City to Alexandria or The Hilltop or wherever else Maggie had disappeared to in her sabbatical from that show is never quite explained; suffice it to say, ‘The Croat’ did, and now Maggie’s hell bent to get her boy back. Thankfully, ‘The Croat’ is apparently an old friend of Negan’s, meaning that the she and he will have to set aside their differences again to – cough cough – save the day.
Erm … haven’t we been here before?
Once again, I find myself heartily disappointed with the next iteration of the Dead universe. While I certainly can understand and appreciate why structuring a program around the nostalgic appeal of seeing two heroes back in action was a good idea, it just isn’t all that long ago that they ended their still impressive run on AMC. In fact, it was only months back, so the mere suggestion that it’s been some time and things are the same kinda/sorta works against the whole narrative unless showrunners just wanted to slim down the cast and continue churning out narrative drivel. There’s absolutely nothing different to Dead City – certainly nothing we’ve not seen before – and I’m having a hard time imagining where they might take these two veterans that won’t tarnish their reputations and/or cheapen their legacy.
Granted, this was only the pilot episode. From what I’ve read, there are five more in the pipeline, giving this the feel of a limited series event – not such a bad idea, now that I think about it. While I’m willing to give them a bit of time to come up with something unique, I learned long ago with this franchise – and this creative crew – not to hold my breath.
In the interests of fairness, I’m thrilled to disclose that – like so many of you – I’ve simply recorded and watched The Walking Dead: Dead City’s “Old Acquaintances” as it aired on AMC, so I’m beholden to no one to provide a review other than myself.
-- EZ
From the show’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Maggie finds Negan and they travel to Manhattan, meeting a quiet young girl named Ginny. A marshal named Armstrong follows Negan.”
Honestly, folks, I’ve had a love/hate relationship with just about all of The Walking Dead’s spinoff shows, and I think it’s safe to say that I lean very strongly more toward the ‘hate’ column than I do the ‘love.’ In my defense, I can say some of this is owed to the fact that I think the handlers of the entire franchise have engaged far too often in a bit of … erm … let’s just call it selective disinformation about each of these incarnations. And, yes, I think that’s hurt the overall brand, to the point wherein most of fandom can painfully see that TWD – as a one-time television juggernaut that was about as ‘must-see’ as anything – continues to die a slow death.
Since I brought it up, here’s an example or two. Prior to the airing of The Walking Dead: Fear The Walking Dead premiering on television, the producers had promised on multiple occasions that the central focus was to serve as a bit of a prequel to The Walking Dead, fleshing out some of the answers to questions about when and where this plague came from and how it all may’ve led up to the End Times as depicted in this universe. Once the show got here, though, it turned out very quickly to be nothing of the sort, instead going down the same narrative roads already covered in great detail in TWD, so I tuned out of it after its second blood season.
Next up: The Walking Dead: World Beyond promised to try to deliver a bit of freshness to the wide, wide world of the Zombie Apocalypse by exploring what life would be like for a band of youngsters who grew up never knowing what existence was like before our televised demise. Again, the showrunners gave those of us who enjoyed this franchise a bit of hope that this would deliver a something that didn’t look so much like what came before … only to let us down with some of the blandest character creations in all of television essentially just racing against time to avoid being eaten alive. Nothing new. Nothing different.
Lastly: Tales Of The Walking Dead was reportedly engineered (once again) to tell audiences some stand-alone adventures set within the established universe involving both known and unknown characters we’d come to (hopefully) know and love in new, innovative ways. Once its episodes were broadcast, however, there were no proven commodities: what they did deliver were some big-name talent clearly looking for a one-off experience within TWD – nothing wrong with that – but the writing was, at best, a mixed bad of curious misfires, sometimes even oddly comical if not tonally inconsistent with the franchise.
Did these folks even care any longer about the Dead … or were they just cashing their paychecks?
Sigh.
Well … this last Sunday brought yet one more highly-touted addition to TWD Universe as The Walking Dead: Dead City made its small screen premiere on AMC. To the program’s benefit, the showrunners have not gone to any lengths (at least, none that I’m aware of) to promise that Dead City would be anything different, which is good because after digesting all of its first hour – appropriately named “Old Acquaintances” – I can attest that there’s absolutely nothing new here.
Fan favorite character Maggie Rhee (played by Lauren Cohan) is finally ready for her close-up. Though she’s sharing the limelight with the equally popular character Negan Smith (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) in much the same way Cagney & Lacey, Starsky & Hutch, and Abbott & Costello did in their respective eras, the inaugural outing felt well-balanced, giving both stars just enough leg room to do what they do best … which apparently shapes up very quickly to be little more than what they’ve done before across multiple seasons of TWD. Yes, they’re still working together yet scholastically at odds – those unaware of the death of Maggie’s husband at the end of Negan’s bat Lucille might wanna do some Googling to be brought up to speed – and the Dead are still out-and-about as audiences expect. But, hey, this one’s got the Big Apple as the backdrop instead of rural America, so that’s got to count for somethin’, am I right?
Sigh.
What’s changed? Erm … Maggie’s still not a great parent: her only child Herschel has been abducted by a baddie who’s known only as ‘The Croat’ in response to her community’s failure to provide ‘The Croat’ and his minions with the necessary tribute of food and supplies. (Wasn’t this largely a plot behind multiple enemies faced already on TWD?) Now, just what ‘The Croat’ and company were doing heading so far down from New York City to Alexandria or The Hilltop or wherever else Maggie had disappeared to in her sabbatical from that show is never quite explained; suffice it to say, ‘The Croat’ did, and now Maggie’s hell bent to get her boy back. Thankfully, ‘The Croat’ is apparently an old friend of Negan’s, meaning that the she and he will have to set aside their differences again to – cough cough – save the day.
Erm … haven’t we been here before?
Once again, I find myself heartily disappointed with the next iteration of the Dead universe. While I certainly can understand and appreciate why structuring a program around the nostalgic appeal of seeing two heroes back in action was a good idea, it just isn’t all that long ago that they ended their still impressive run on AMC. In fact, it was only months back, so the mere suggestion that it’s been some time and things are the same kinda/sorta works against the whole narrative unless showrunners just wanted to slim down the cast and continue churning out narrative drivel. There’s absolutely nothing different to Dead City – certainly nothing we’ve not seen before – and I’m having a hard time imagining where they might take these two veterans that won’t tarnish their reputations and/or cheapen their legacy.
Granted, this was only the pilot episode. From what I’ve read, there are five more in the pipeline, giving this the feel of a limited series event – not such a bad idea, now that I think about it. While I’m willing to give them a bit of time to come up with something unique, I learned long ago with this franchise – and this creative crew – not to hold my breath.
In the interests of fairness, I’m thrilled to disclose that – like so many of you – I’ve simply recorded and watched The Walking Dead: Dead City’s “Old Acquaintances” as it aired on AMC, so I’m beholden to no one to provide a review other than myself.
-- EZ
- Published on
I’ve always found it funny how some things of your past find ways to sneak into your present.
Having mentioned many, many, many times in this space that I grew up in the days where all a household had for entertainment was a television set with a mere eight or nine channels, I can tell you that the films of Mr. Wong were a part and parcel of a nearby broadcast affiliate package. In fact, I can remember the small town, middle American TV host who kinda/sorta excitedly introduced the first one, mostly because the guy clearly was a Boris Karloff fan and was kinda/sorta tickled pink to be ‘premiering’ a rarely seen Karloff picture for whatever small audience the channel had. The thing is that this host had obviously no idea that the Wong series of motion pictures was not ‘the usual fare’ from ‘Karloff the Uncanny,’ meaning this was not a monster movie or a horror film in any stretch of the imagination. While the viewers were never treated to the host’s thoughts after the picture had been aired, I still can picture the guy’s private disappointment.
Now, this is in no way, shape, or form meant to imply that Mr. Wong, Detective is a bad film. As you’ll see by the finish of my review, I think it’s a suitable picture, one that balances the responsibilities of launching an all-new theatrical detective series along with delivering a good story capably enough. My issues with it lay more so in the former than the latter, which I think it could’ve used a bit more polish to be an effective introduction to the Chinese sleuth created by author Hugh Wiley and originally appeared serialized in magazines. In fact, one could argue that having Karloff in the lead role might be one of the things producers really got right, as his popularity with audiences likely buoyed the pictures’ prospects more than any other single element could’ve hurt any momentum.
From all I’ve come to know, the 1930’s was a curious time at the domestic box office. Horror films – the kind of which Karloff, other actors, and studios had built solid returns upon – had kinda/sorta fallen from their perch of fame; and the producers were scurrying to find a new trend with which to draw audiences into theaters. As detective stories – and our never-ending cultural fascination with crime, it would seem – had grown wildly fashionable and successful in print form, the studios launched their respective bids to bring some of that cerebral action to screens. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer had their Thin Man series. Columbia Pictures galvanized some interest with The Lone Wolf Returns in 1935. Fox Film Corporation began solving crime with Charlie Chan Carries On (1931). Twentieth Century Fox hired Mr. Moto to police their prospects.
And this left James Lee Wong – aka Mr. Wong – to headline efforts on behalf of Monogram Pictures, a notorious low-budget studio that delivered, mostly, a slate of quieter and less expensive fare. If crime doesn’t pay, then perhaps Monogram was in the right time and the right place to exploit such dark deeds captured on celluloid, and perhaps Karloff was the right man at the right time and in the right place to bring the literary investigator to life.
(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 …)
Having mentioned many, many, many times in this space that I grew up in the days where all a household had for entertainment was a television set with a mere eight or nine channels, I can tell you that the films of Mr. Wong were a part and parcel of a nearby broadcast affiliate package. In fact, I can remember the small town, middle American TV host who kinda/sorta excitedly introduced the first one, mostly because the guy clearly was a Boris Karloff fan and was kinda/sorta tickled pink to be ‘premiering’ a rarely seen Karloff picture for whatever small audience the channel had. The thing is that this host had obviously no idea that the Wong series of motion pictures was not ‘the usual fare’ from ‘Karloff the Uncanny,’ meaning this was not a monster movie or a horror film in any stretch of the imagination. While the viewers were never treated to the host’s thoughts after the picture had been aired, I still can picture the guy’s private disappointment.
Now, this is in no way, shape, or form meant to imply that Mr. Wong, Detective is a bad film. As you’ll see by the finish of my review, I think it’s a suitable picture, one that balances the responsibilities of launching an all-new theatrical detective series along with delivering a good story capably enough. My issues with it lay more so in the former than the latter, which I think it could’ve used a bit more polish to be an effective introduction to the Chinese sleuth created by author Hugh Wiley and originally appeared serialized in magazines. In fact, one could argue that having Karloff in the lead role might be one of the things producers really got right, as his popularity with audiences likely buoyed the pictures’ prospects more than any other single element could’ve hurt any momentum.
From all I’ve come to know, the 1930’s was a curious time at the domestic box office. Horror films – the kind of which Karloff, other actors, and studios had built solid returns upon – had kinda/sorta fallen from their perch of fame; and the producers were scurrying to find a new trend with which to draw audiences into theaters. As detective stories – and our never-ending cultural fascination with crime, it would seem – had grown wildly fashionable and successful in print form, the studios launched their respective bids to bring some of that cerebral action to screens. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer had their Thin Man series. Columbia Pictures galvanized some interest with The Lone Wolf Returns in 1935. Fox Film Corporation began solving crime with Charlie Chan Carries On (1931). Twentieth Century Fox hired Mr. Moto to police their prospects.
And this left James Lee Wong – aka Mr. Wong – to headline efforts on behalf of Monogram Pictures, a notorious low-budget studio that delivered, mostly, a slate of quieter and less expensive fare. If crime doesn’t pay, then perhaps Monogram was in the right time and the right place to exploit such dark deeds captured on celluloid, and perhaps Karloff was the right man at the right time and in the right place to bring the literary investigator to life.
(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:
“When a chemical manufacturer is killed after asking detective James Wong to help him, Wong investigates this and two subsequent murders. He uncovers an international spy ring hoping to steal the formula for a poison gas being developed by the first victim’s company.”
Yes, yes, and yes: I know, folks, that I do tend to overthink many, many films, but I’ve always thought that there’s a method to my madness. I like features to not only make perfect sense but also to tell me a story worth my time and investment. Rarely do I just sit down to merely disappear into a particular flick – when I do, it’s usually an old black-and-white I’ve seen more than a few times before so that I know going in that I can turn the brain off – so an experience with something like Mr. Wong, Detective can be a little taxing here and there. It’s the first in a series, and I expected it to do a bit more with its lead investigator than it really did.
In fact, the film opens with, basically, the presentation of James Lee Wong being considered a great thinker, mover, and shaker … and we’re never really given anything of substance with which to either accept such a title or establish our agreement with such praise. Director William Nigh and screenwriter Houston Branch (tasked with adapting characters and ideas from the Hugh Wiley serial) pretty much as audiences to just take all of this at face value, only providing a few modest hints at Wong’s background and how he came to attain such a reputation. Call me a fool, if you must, but I require a bit more than just a narrative blurb here and there. I prefer greater context, but that’s exactly what’s in short supply across much of Wong’s 69-minute run time.
Some of this clunkiness is likely owed to the way films of a certain era worked. Not a lot of time was spent on crafting screen characters as studios – more often than they should’ve – relied heavily on a star’s established status to serve as the chief draw. Boris Karloff – known chiefly for his (epic) work in Frankenstein (1931), The Mummy (1932), and The Bride Of Frankenstein (1935) among other frights – represents a curious choice to build a franchise centered on investigating the dark deeds of men and women, a vastly more cerebral process for players and audiences alike. As the film unspools, Wong is most definitely a thinker – not much of a talker – as the story shows him going about the tasks of exploring crime scenes, searching homes, and following leads; and far too much time is wasted with the man observing action instead of leading it.
Still – in typical detective style – Karloff is afforded the opportunity in the last reel to make sense of it all. Like Sam Spade, Mike Hammer, and Philip Marlowe, Wong always gets the last word as the lead character finally spills the beans to justify not only why he stayed somewhat in the background but also allowed the guilty culprits to inevitably bite off more than they could chew. He explains away any loose threads and dismisses red herrings, rising up and showing in pretty grand fashion why audiences wait for these moments in every screen mystery. In standard theatrical fashion, Karloff relishes these moments (or we relish him in them, I should say), and the day is saved for Wong to sit back, enjoy a cup of tea, and ponder what awaits him – and us – in the next adventure.
As our understated but heroic lead, Karloff is good, not quite grand here. (I found his work better in the next two pictures, honestly, but I’ll leave those remarks to those reviews.) His make-up is a bit off-putting in a few spots – a close-up here and there should probably have been avoided – but it works well enough as intended. (Do today’s social justice warriors resent the fact that a non-Chinese actor played an obviously Chinese role? I certainly hope that’s not the case, but film history is what it is, and I’ll not change it.) Grant Withers shares the screen affably in the guise of police captain Street, but – again, in customary Hollywood screenwriting fashion of the day – he’s relegated to far too many inferior scenes involving arguments with his gal pal Myra Ross (the lovely Maxine Jennings) wherein male/female sparring just goes nowhere comfortably. The rest of the cast kinda/sorta just blends together, sadly, as the spy plot is a murky focus, mostly serving as a distraction from the central murder mystery that never quite effectively conceals an all-too-obvious culprit from the film’s opening scenes.
“When a chemical manufacturer is killed after asking detective James Wong to help him, Wong investigates this and two subsequent murders. He uncovers an international spy ring hoping to steal the formula for a poison gas being developed by the first victim’s company.”
Yes, yes, and yes: I know, folks, that I do tend to overthink many, many films, but I’ve always thought that there’s a method to my madness. I like features to not only make perfect sense but also to tell me a story worth my time and investment. Rarely do I just sit down to merely disappear into a particular flick – when I do, it’s usually an old black-and-white I’ve seen more than a few times before so that I know going in that I can turn the brain off – so an experience with something like Mr. Wong, Detective can be a little taxing here and there. It’s the first in a series, and I expected it to do a bit more with its lead investigator than it really did.
In fact, the film opens with, basically, the presentation of James Lee Wong being considered a great thinker, mover, and shaker … and we’re never really given anything of substance with which to either accept such a title or establish our agreement with such praise. Director William Nigh and screenwriter Houston Branch (tasked with adapting characters and ideas from the Hugh Wiley serial) pretty much as audiences to just take all of this at face value, only providing a few modest hints at Wong’s background and how he came to attain such a reputation. Call me a fool, if you must, but I require a bit more than just a narrative blurb here and there. I prefer greater context, but that’s exactly what’s in short supply across much of Wong’s 69-minute run time.
Some of this clunkiness is likely owed to the way films of a certain era worked. Not a lot of time was spent on crafting screen characters as studios – more often than they should’ve – relied heavily on a star’s established status to serve as the chief draw. Boris Karloff – known chiefly for his (epic) work in Frankenstein (1931), The Mummy (1932), and The Bride Of Frankenstein (1935) among other frights – represents a curious choice to build a franchise centered on investigating the dark deeds of men and women, a vastly more cerebral process for players and audiences alike. As the film unspools, Wong is most definitely a thinker – not much of a talker – as the story shows him going about the tasks of exploring crime scenes, searching homes, and following leads; and far too much time is wasted with the man observing action instead of leading it.
Still – in typical detective style – Karloff is afforded the opportunity in the last reel to make sense of it all. Like Sam Spade, Mike Hammer, and Philip Marlowe, Wong always gets the last word as the lead character finally spills the beans to justify not only why he stayed somewhat in the background but also allowed the guilty culprits to inevitably bite off more than they could chew. He explains away any loose threads and dismisses red herrings, rising up and showing in pretty grand fashion why audiences wait for these moments in every screen mystery. In standard theatrical fashion, Karloff relishes these moments (or we relish him in them, I should say), and the day is saved for Wong to sit back, enjoy a cup of tea, and ponder what awaits him – and us – in the next adventure.
As our understated but heroic lead, Karloff is good, not quite grand here. (I found his work better in the next two pictures, honestly, but I’ll leave those remarks to those reviews.) His make-up is a bit off-putting in a few spots – a close-up here and there should probably have been avoided – but it works well enough as intended. (Do today’s social justice warriors resent the fact that a non-Chinese actor played an obviously Chinese role? I certainly hope that’s not the case, but film history is what it is, and I’ll not change it.) Grant Withers shares the screen affably in the guise of police captain Street, but – again, in customary Hollywood screenwriting fashion of the day – he’s relegated to far too many inferior scenes involving arguments with his gal pal Myra Ross (the lovely Maxine Jennings) wherein male/female sparring just goes nowhere comfortably. The rest of the cast kinda/sorta just blends together, sadly, as the spy plot is a murky focus, mostly serving as a distraction from the central murder mystery that never quite effectively conceals an all-too-obvious culprit from the film’s opening scenes.
Simply put, Wong deserved better, especially for a first picture.
What does resonate, though, probably even to this day is Karloff’s portrayal. As Wong, he’s arguably one of the finer gentleman sleuths of the era. Never angry or foppish with others, he might look the part of a dandy here and there – with his pronounced lapel flower and umbrella on his arm – but he’s always kind, respectful, and patient with those around him, even at his own peril. He’s polite to the good and evil men and women alike – even when disrespected – and maintains an even keel in the face of danger precisely because he apparently knows that reasoned minds ultimately prevail. Why, he’s even the face of C.S.I. – the popular TV series – investigating clues, testing theories, and following the evidence when his onscreen counterparts just wish for a few minutes alone with a suspect to coerce a confession. I suspect this warmed the hearts of audiences of the day, and it might be one of the single greatest reasons to discover the Wong series nearly a century after it was first screened.
Mr. Wong, Detective (1938) was produced by Monogram Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good people at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights and sounds on this Blu-ray disc to be mostly good to above-average: there’s a fair amount of grain, and the black-and-white balance could definitely go for a remastering, though I’ve no idea if some of these flaws are owed to an inferior source. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts an audio commentary from film historians Tom Weaver and Larry Blamire though – if I’m correct – Blamire only appears sparingly and via recording: Weaver essentially hosts the affair, and he does an affable job delivering not a whole lot of movie-specific details but instead covers the series along with an exploration of notable cast and crew. It’s a good track, one designed to get a few laughs. So … meh.
Recommended.
Without getting too deep into the weeds of an ongoing film series, I can say that – having watched three of the five flicks available in this set – the second and third features are a bit more inviting and interesting than was Mr. Wong, Detective (1938). As a set-up, I think Houston Branch’s script tries a bit too hard in too many places to both create tension and flesh out primary and secondary characters, leaving Wong far too often reacting to action instead of delivering a commanding lead. When Karloff is given more to do and treated like the star of the show, the production simply flows much more naturally. So bear with this intro to this character and his world and you’ll be rewarded for your patience.
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 their Boris Karloff: Mr. Wong Collection by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
What does resonate, though, probably even to this day is Karloff’s portrayal. As Wong, he’s arguably one of the finer gentleman sleuths of the era. Never angry or foppish with others, he might look the part of a dandy here and there – with his pronounced lapel flower and umbrella on his arm – but he’s always kind, respectful, and patient with those around him, even at his own peril. He’s polite to the good and evil men and women alike – even when disrespected – and maintains an even keel in the face of danger precisely because he apparently knows that reasoned minds ultimately prevail. Why, he’s even the face of C.S.I. – the popular TV series – investigating clues, testing theories, and following the evidence when his onscreen counterparts just wish for a few minutes alone with a suspect to coerce a confession. I suspect this warmed the hearts of audiences of the day, and it might be one of the single greatest reasons to discover the Wong series nearly a century after it was first screened.
Mr. Wong, Detective (1938) was produced by Monogram Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good people at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights and sounds on this Blu-ray disc to be mostly good to above-average: there’s a fair amount of grain, and the black-and-white balance could definitely go for a remastering, though I’ve no idea if some of these flaws are owed to an inferior source. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts an audio commentary from film historians Tom Weaver and Larry Blamire though – if I’m correct – Blamire only appears sparingly and via recording: Weaver essentially hosts the affair, and he does an affable job delivering not a whole lot of movie-specific details but instead covers the series along with an exploration of notable cast and crew. It’s a good track, one designed to get a few laughs. So … meh.
Recommended.
Without getting too deep into the weeds of an ongoing film series, I can say that – having watched three of the five flicks available in this set – the second and third features are a bit more inviting and interesting than was Mr. Wong, Detective (1938). As a set-up, I think Houston Branch’s script tries a bit too hard in too many places to both create tension and flesh out primary and secondary characters, leaving Wong far too often reacting to action instead of delivering a commanding lead. When Karloff is given more to do and treated like the star of the show, the production simply flows much more naturally. So bear with this intro to this character and his world and you’ll be rewarded for your patience.
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 their Boris Karloff: Mr. Wong Collection by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
As I’ve said before, I’m quite smitten with the world of film noir.
Honestly, I love it for a whole lot of reasons but only one in particular that I often share with readers here: I see film noir as a black-and-white existence most often populated with broken people making broken choices, and I like to call these characters ‘monsters of a sort.’ That’s why I’ll occasionally cover noirs in this space – along with the Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror features – when I get the inkling, and that happens a lot when I can squeeze in the screenings.
Such is the case today as I was graciously provided a complimentary Blu-ray set by Kino Lorber: Film Noir – The Dark Side Of Cinema, Volume XIV.
Today’s viewing: 1950’s One Way Street was another pleasant surprise for an evening viewing as it’s another noir I’d never heard anything about. Directed by Hugo Fregonese from a story by Lawrence Kimble, it’s a lean and mean 79-minute drama that musters some impressive menace on both sides of the border (if you know what I mean, but if not you will soon). It stars James Mason, Märta Torén, Dan Duryea, Basil Ruysdael, and William Conrad in key roles.
(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 stealing a gangster’s money and his girlfriend, a doctor heads for a small village in Mexico.”
I’ve got to hand it to the people at both Kino Lorber and Universal International Pictures (UI) this morning. As of this writing, they’re an incredible fourteen sets in with their seemingly endless Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema home video releases, and they’re still producing some pictures that I’ve never heard of (not that I know all), that are truly quite good even though they’re dated, and that continue to demonstrate why noir – of all sub-genres – grew to prominence and continues to influence audiences and storytellers so many decades later.
And about One Way Street?
Those who’ve read any number of my ‘Monsters Of A Sort’ columns likely know that I’ve had to kinda/sorta redefine my expectations over the years as to what constitutes a legitimate film noir. Frankly, I think it’s a sub-genre that’s been misunderstood by many, and that sentiment applies to me as much as the next person. Initially, I’d always known about the preferred time period, but I’d been told many moons ago (by a college professor) that one requirement was that all of a film’s characters had to (essentially) be either evil or riddled with human flaws. Now that I’m older, thinking for myself, and continuing to grow my own knowledge of film and its legacy, I know that definition was never quite correct, but I still fall back on it from time-to-time when I think I’ve found a particular release that fits. Fregonese’s One Way Street most decidedly does, and it does so very well.
Honestly, I love it for a whole lot of reasons but only one in particular that I often share with readers here: I see film noir as a black-and-white existence most often populated with broken people making broken choices, and I like to call these characters ‘monsters of a sort.’ That’s why I’ll occasionally cover noirs in this space – along with the Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror features – when I get the inkling, and that happens a lot when I can squeeze in the screenings.
Such is the case today as I was graciously provided a complimentary Blu-ray set by Kino Lorber: Film Noir – The Dark Side Of Cinema, Volume XIV.
Today’s viewing: 1950’s One Way Street was another pleasant surprise for an evening viewing as it’s another noir I’d never heard anything about. Directed by Hugo Fregonese from a story by Lawrence Kimble, it’s a lean and mean 79-minute drama that musters some impressive menace on both sides of the border (if you know what I mean, but if not you will soon). It stars James Mason, Märta Torén, Dan Duryea, Basil Ruysdael, and William Conrad in key roles.
(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 stealing a gangster’s money and his girlfriend, a doctor heads for a small village in Mexico.”
I’ve got to hand it to the people at both Kino Lorber and Universal International Pictures (UI) this morning. As of this writing, they’re an incredible fourteen sets in with their seemingly endless Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema home video releases, and they’re still producing some pictures that I’ve never heard of (not that I know all), that are truly quite good even though they’re dated, and that continue to demonstrate why noir – of all sub-genres – grew to prominence and continues to influence audiences and storytellers so many decades later.
And about One Way Street?
Those who’ve read any number of my ‘Monsters Of A Sort’ columns likely know that I’ve had to kinda/sorta redefine my expectations over the years as to what constitutes a legitimate film noir. Frankly, I think it’s a sub-genre that’s been misunderstood by many, and that sentiment applies to me as much as the next person. Initially, I’d always known about the preferred time period, but I’d been told many moons ago (by a college professor) that one requirement was that all of a film’s characters had to (essentially) be either evil or riddled with human flaws. Now that I’m older, thinking for myself, and continuing to grow my own knowledge of film and its legacy, I know that definition was never quite correct, but I still fall back on it from time-to-time when I think I’ve found a particular release that fits. Fregonese’s One Way Street most decidedly does, and it does so very well.
Mason plays Dr. Frank Matson, a physician who operates a side gig aiding local mobsters when they’re in need of some medical assistance. When he realizes that stealing a single take from John Wheeler (Dan Duryea) and his gang from a deal gone wrong, the temptation is too great. To complicate matters, Matson also takes Wheeler’s gal pal Laura (Märta Torén) as a hostage and love interest, and this means that – no matter where he goes – he’ll always be a subject of interest for the mob, putting the two of them forever at risk.
What I think works so well in Street is that Mason pretty consistently underplays everything. Even when he’s clearly caught up in tension and/or jeopardy, he maintains a level of calm that one expects from a man of medicine. Never jumping to rash conclusions because he’s already thought things through, he avoids the usual trappings of genre characters visibly vacillating between right and wrong; once he’s made his decision, he goes through with it, and this gives the film a degree of freshness rarely seen in noir (based on my experience).
Similarly, Street benefits from a similar temperament displayed by Father Moreno (Basil Ruysdael). A man of the cloth, he spends his time amongst the poor rural folks of Mexico, but – as he’s learned that the country can be a dangerous place – he isn’t above telling a white lie here and there if it’ll keep himself and those around him free from marauders and bandits. He’s a knowing yet wry performance, and – like Mason’s clear-headed physician – that isn’t something one sees in a great deal of crime dramas.
But, alas, not all is perfect in this Street, and that’s most likely because the format almost always requires a bad ending for most if not all of the principles. I found what happened in the final reel to be a bit uneven precisely because I’d been somewhat distracted by these surprisingly engaging characters, causing me to take my eye off the road, so to speak. In a world wherein both good deeds and bad deeds extract a price, I guess it’s safe to say that no one gets out alive … especially when something resembling redemption is so close within one’s reach.
That, my friends, is the stuff of the best noirs, and I think it applies here quite well.
One Way Street (1950) was produced by Universal International Pictures (UI). DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good people at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? There’s no indication on the product package that this pressing received any new updates/upgrades, but – though I’m no trained video expert – I thought the sights and sounds here were very good. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts the theatrical trailer as well as a commentary track provided by film historian Lee Gambin and Costume Historian Elissa Rose.
Highly recommended.
While I wasn’t all that enamored with our lead character’s eleventh-hour twist-of-fate, One Way Street is a surprisingly good dramatic thriller – with, yes, very pronounced noir sensibilities here and there – bolstered by a fabulous pair of winning portrayals from Mason and Torén. Be warned: it does slow down a bit in the middle third – it appears that our somewhat unlikely lovebirds may just have managed to achieve the impossible of a clean getaway – but its bookends testify perhaps to why noir-flavored flicks never quite go out of style … they simply tuck their sad sack of a head between their legs, lay low, and wait for the right opportunity to come back again.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary One Way Street (1950) – as part of their Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema XIV collection – by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
What I think works so well in Street is that Mason pretty consistently underplays everything. Even when he’s clearly caught up in tension and/or jeopardy, he maintains a level of calm that one expects from a man of medicine. Never jumping to rash conclusions because he’s already thought things through, he avoids the usual trappings of genre characters visibly vacillating between right and wrong; once he’s made his decision, he goes through with it, and this gives the film a degree of freshness rarely seen in noir (based on my experience).
Similarly, Street benefits from a similar temperament displayed by Father Moreno (Basil Ruysdael). A man of the cloth, he spends his time amongst the poor rural folks of Mexico, but – as he’s learned that the country can be a dangerous place – he isn’t above telling a white lie here and there if it’ll keep himself and those around him free from marauders and bandits. He’s a knowing yet wry performance, and – like Mason’s clear-headed physician – that isn’t something one sees in a great deal of crime dramas.
But, alas, not all is perfect in this Street, and that’s most likely because the format almost always requires a bad ending for most if not all of the principles. I found what happened in the final reel to be a bit uneven precisely because I’d been somewhat distracted by these surprisingly engaging characters, causing me to take my eye off the road, so to speak. In a world wherein both good deeds and bad deeds extract a price, I guess it’s safe to say that no one gets out alive … especially when something resembling redemption is so close within one’s reach.
That, my friends, is the stuff of the best noirs, and I think it applies here quite well.
One Way Street (1950) was produced by Universal International Pictures (UI). DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good people at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? There’s no indication on the product package that this pressing received any new updates/upgrades, but – though I’m no trained video expert – I thought the sights and sounds here were very good. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts the theatrical trailer as well as a commentary track provided by film historian Lee Gambin and Costume Historian Elissa Rose.
Highly recommended.
While I wasn’t all that enamored with our lead character’s eleventh-hour twist-of-fate, One Way Street is a surprisingly good dramatic thriller – with, yes, very pronounced noir sensibilities here and there – bolstered by a fabulous pair of winning portrayals from Mason and Torén. Be warned: it does slow down a bit in the middle third – it appears that our somewhat unlikely lovebirds may just have managed to achieve the impossible of a clean getaway – but its bookends testify perhaps to why noir-flavored flicks never quite go out of style … they simply tuck their sad sack of a head between their legs, lay low, and wait for the right opportunity to come back again.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary One Way Street (1950) – as part of their Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema XIV collection – by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- 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 episode’s IMDB.com page citation:
“In an alternative 1969, two men on a perilous high-tech mission wrestle with the consequences of an unimaginable tragedy.”
As is always the case with any respectable anthology, audiences have to accept the good with the bad. This isn’t in any way meant to imply that some episodes might clearly be inferior; rather, I’m just trying to suggest that even a good idea might come with some bad (or lesser) trappings.
In fact, one could argue that such is the case with any writing. In any given story, viewers are provided a smattering of characters along with a set of circumstances that they have to accept at face value with very little pushback. (Not that the director, screenwriter, and/or actors are listening anyway!) Throughout the experience, we watch for these pieces to successfully complete whatever narrative puzzle has been designed, and we can only hope that – by the big finish – all questions will have been sufficiently answered so that we can then turn to one another right after (or at the water cooler on Monday morning) and properly share our thoughts on the show.
But anthologies do have to work a bit harder, or that’s what I’ve always believed. They’re often tasked in doing more with less – typically, episodes have the feel of a small feature movie but are produced on a fraction of the time and budget – and this can get in the way of achieving the desire results. It ain’t easy being an entertainer, and no one ever said it would be.
So … “Beyond The Sea” earns good marks at creating one of the more thoughtful SciFi scenarios for its slim cast of characters: astronauts Cliff Stanfield (played by Aaron Paul) and David Ross (Josh Hartnett) are sailing into deep space on a mission that never quite gets clearly defined, but – through the advent of some incredible consciousness-swapping technology – they’re also living out mission downtime back home on Earth in their respective robotic counterparts. Essentially, when they’re asleep in the space capsule, they’re living somewhat normal lives back home, both married and with families at different locales in the United States. Who said you couldn’t have it all, eh?
However, regular Earthmen and women aren’t all comfortable with the invention of these synthetic people. Apparently, some minor cults have sprung up to protest the Biblical implications of creating man in our own image; and one sect eventually goes after Ross and his family, massacring the astronaut, his wife, and their two children in an act of homegrown terrorism. With no replica to house his consciousness, the man is forced to live out his days in the cold isolation of distant space with only his waking hours alongside Stanfield for companionship.
Eventually, Stanfield and his wife (back on Earth) come up with an idea they believe might help the victim cope with his mounting grief: Cliff will allow David to ‘step’ into his robotic self for extremely limited sessions, giving him brief opportunities to once again feel the dirt under his feet, breath natural air again, and basically stretch his legs on the big blue marble once more.
Well … you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to see that this solution will likely end not so much ‘badly’ as it does ‘very badly,’ but that’s what audiences have come to expect from anthologies of this type. “Beyond The Sea” isn’t a bad episode in any respect, but it does suffer from an incredible level of predictability. Yes, Ross will be confused by ‘stepping’ into Stanfield’s live. Yes, Lana Stanfield (Kate Mara) will be tempted by the body of her husband now taking an uncharacteristic interest in her sexual and emotional well-being. Yes, Ross might take liberties without Cliff’s knowledge. Yes, it’ll all boil to a head, and even yes … you see what I mean?
Far too much of this journey we’ve seen before, albeit without the SciFi construct and the Space/Earth settings. While the performances are quite good and Charlie Brooker’s script tries to give it a measure of freshness by placing it an alternate universe, I just couldn’t quite get past the fact that it was all so obviously destined for a tragedy of personal destruction that could’ve / would’ve / should’ve been avoided by supposedly smart people.
Black Mirror’s “Beyond The Sea” (S06E03) was produced by Charlie Brooker and company in cooperation with Netflix. The episode is currently available for viewing on the streaming giant. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the accompanying sights and sounds were exceptional from start-to-finish.
Recommended.
“Beyond The Sea” has an interesting genre hook to make it all possible, one given a smidgen of freshness by setting its events in an alternate version of Earth, circa the late 1960’s. Still, I was never certain enough of just what these two astronauts were doing in the Final Frontier – yes, I wanted to know, mostly because that’s how I’m wired – and the general formulaic approach of both reacting to and creating character conflict has been done before. There were parts I liked and parts I didn’t, but you can’t tell me you didn’t see this ending coming from miles away … unless you weren’t watching.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the entire sixth season of Black Mirror is presently available to me as a current Netflix subscriber, and I was provided absolutely no advance screening of any episodes in exchange for a complimentary review.
-- EZ
From the episode’s IMDB.com page citation:
“In an alternative 1969, two men on a perilous high-tech mission wrestle with the consequences of an unimaginable tragedy.”
As is always the case with any respectable anthology, audiences have to accept the good with the bad. This isn’t in any way meant to imply that some episodes might clearly be inferior; rather, I’m just trying to suggest that even a good idea might come with some bad (or lesser) trappings.
In fact, one could argue that such is the case with any writing. In any given story, viewers are provided a smattering of characters along with a set of circumstances that they have to accept at face value with very little pushback. (Not that the director, screenwriter, and/or actors are listening anyway!) Throughout the experience, we watch for these pieces to successfully complete whatever narrative puzzle has been designed, and we can only hope that – by the big finish – all questions will have been sufficiently answered so that we can then turn to one another right after (or at the water cooler on Monday morning) and properly share our thoughts on the show.
But anthologies do have to work a bit harder, or that’s what I’ve always believed. They’re often tasked in doing more with less – typically, episodes have the feel of a small feature movie but are produced on a fraction of the time and budget – and this can get in the way of achieving the desire results. It ain’t easy being an entertainer, and no one ever said it would be.
So … “Beyond The Sea” earns good marks at creating one of the more thoughtful SciFi scenarios for its slim cast of characters: astronauts Cliff Stanfield (played by Aaron Paul) and David Ross (Josh Hartnett) are sailing into deep space on a mission that never quite gets clearly defined, but – through the advent of some incredible consciousness-swapping technology – they’re also living out mission downtime back home on Earth in their respective robotic counterparts. Essentially, when they’re asleep in the space capsule, they’re living somewhat normal lives back home, both married and with families at different locales in the United States. Who said you couldn’t have it all, eh?
However, regular Earthmen and women aren’t all comfortable with the invention of these synthetic people. Apparently, some minor cults have sprung up to protest the Biblical implications of creating man in our own image; and one sect eventually goes after Ross and his family, massacring the astronaut, his wife, and their two children in an act of homegrown terrorism. With no replica to house his consciousness, the man is forced to live out his days in the cold isolation of distant space with only his waking hours alongside Stanfield for companionship.
Eventually, Stanfield and his wife (back on Earth) come up with an idea they believe might help the victim cope with his mounting grief: Cliff will allow David to ‘step’ into his robotic self for extremely limited sessions, giving him brief opportunities to once again feel the dirt under his feet, breath natural air again, and basically stretch his legs on the big blue marble once more.
Well … you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to see that this solution will likely end not so much ‘badly’ as it does ‘very badly,’ but that’s what audiences have come to expect from anthologies of this type. “Beyond The Sea” isn’t a bad episode in any respect, but it does suffer from an incredible level of predictability. Yes, Ross will be confused by ‘stepping’ into Stanfield’s live. Yes, Lana Stanfield (Kate Mara) will be tempted by the body of her husband now taking an uncharacteristic interest in her sexual and emotional well-being. Yes, Ross might take liberties without Cliff’s knowledge. Yes, it’ll all boil to a head, and even yes … you see what I mean?
Far too much of this journey we’ve seen before, albeit without the SciFi construct and the Space/Earth settings. While the performances are quite good and Charlie Brooker’s script tries to give it a measure of freshness by placing it an alternate universe, I just couldn’t quite get past the fact that it was all so obviously destined for a tragedy of personal destruction that could’ve / would’ve / should’ve been avoided by supposedly smart people.
Black Mirror’s “Beyond The Sea” (S06E03) was produced by Charlie Brooker and company in cooperation with Netflix. The episode is currently available for viewing on the streaming giant. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the accompanying sights and sounds were exceptional from start-to-finish.
Recommended.
“Beyond The Sea” has an interesting genre hook to make it all possible, one given a smidgen of freshness by setting its events in an alternate version of Earth, circa the late 1960’s. Still, I was never certain enough of just what these two astronauts were doing in the Final Frontier – yes, I wanted to know, mostly because that’s how I’m wired – and the general formulaic approach of both reacting to and creating character conflict has been done before. There were parts I liked and parts I didn’t, but you can’t tell me you didn’t see this ending coming from miles away … unless you weren’t watching.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the entire sixth season of Black Mirror is presently available to me as a current Netflix subscriber, and I was provided absolutely no advance screening of any episodes in exchange for a complimentary review.
-- EZ
- Published on
Argh. Some days, it’s hard to be a DC Comics’ fan.
No, no, and no: I’ll not apologize for it. I’ve mentioned in this space – far too many times for me to ever recall – that I grew up reading DC Comic book titles. I did read some of the Marvel stuff way back in the early 1970’s and off-and-on again in the 1980’s, but they just didn’t tickle my particular fancy the way the DC stuff did. Some of that was owed to the writing, and some of it was more likely owed to the cast of characters; DC’s heroes just had a way of sticking to situations and circumstances that just interested me a bit more, so I was glad to hang out mostly in the pages of Superman, Batman, and a few others when covers looked inviting. Such was the life of the great American teen growing up in the middle of nowhere, USA.
Still, I never much cared for The Flash. He wasn’t a bigger-than-life player in his own book nor in the wider DC Universe, at least not so much as I saw him. More often than not, he felt like a hero kept around for a bit of light entertainment. Always quick with a bit of humor or a wry commentary on the state of things, he played a supporting role in a few of the team-up titles, never quite emerging so much as a force to be reckoned with but a welcome tag-a-long who made a wild ride complete with a few additional laughs. Occasionally, writers gave him a bit more to do, though they never quite shrugged off what I saw as a bench player status, called in precisely when doing something quickly was really all that was needed.
Well …
He’s finally come to the silver screen in his very own theatrical adventure. The Flash (aka The Flash: Worlds Collide) isn’t exactly setting fire to the box office in the U.S. or abroad, though I’ll bet the suits at Warner Bros. seriously thought they had a hit on their hands. I have my own thoughts on why the film was probably always destined to an underperformer, and I’ll be happy to explain after the break …
(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:
“Barry Allen uses his super speed to change the past, but his attempt to save his family creates a world without super heroes, forcing him to race for his life in order to save the future.”
No, no, and no: I’ll not apologize for it. I’ve mentioned in this space – far too many times for me to ever recall – that I grew up reading DC Comic book titles. I did read some of the Marvel stuff way back in the early 1970’s and off-and-on again in the 1980’s, but they just didn’t tickle my particular fancy the way the DC stuff did. Some of that was owed to the writing, and some of it was more likely owed to the cast of characters; DC’s heroes just had a way of sticking to situations and circumstances that just interested me a bit more, so I was glad to hang out mostly in the pages of Superman, Batman, and a few others when covers looked inviting. Such was the life of the great American teen growing up in the middle of nowhere, USA.
Still, I never much cared for The Flash. He wasn’t a bigger-than-life player in his own book nor in the wider DC Universe, at least not so much as I saw him. More often than not, he felt like a hero kept around for a bit of light entertainment. Always quick with a bit of humor or a wry commentary on the state of things, he played a supporting role in a few of the team-up titles, never quite emerging so much as a force to be reckoned with but a welcome tag-a-long who made a wild ride complete with a few additional laughs. Occasionally, writers gave him a bit more to do, though they never quite shrugged off what I saw as a bench player status, called in precisely when doing something quickly was really all that was needed.
Well …
He’s finally come to the silver screen in his very own theatrical adventure. The Flash (aka The Flash: Worlds Collide) isn’t exactly setting fire to the box office in the U.S. or abroad, though I’ll bet the suits at Warner Bros. seriously thought they had a hit on their hands. I have my own thoughts on why the film was probably always destined to an underperformer, and I’ll be happy to explain after the break …
(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:
“Barry Allen uses his super speed to change the past, but his attempt to save his family creates a world without super heroes, forcing him to race for his life in order to save the future.”
Alright, can anyone – and I do mean anyone – show me a single time travel story wherein specifically going back to alter the past ever worked out for the benefit of mankind?
Granted, there could be a flick here or there that somehow managed to work out entirely well for all involved, but about as long as time travel stories have been around there has been one single unifying rule to the vast majority of them: do not alter the past, or you put damn near everything into jeopardy. From comedies to the more serious Ray Bradbury inspired narrations, audiences have been cautioned with one yarn after another trying to properly recount how even the smallest alterations have led to some of the most astounding outcomes in the (new) present and the distant future. So while The Flash’s singular exploration of this common theme that appeared in 2011’s Flashpoint miniseries may’ve been a tale quite well told, I’d argue that there still was nothing all that revelatory about it in the grand scheme of time travel adventures.
However … just because something is well told doesn’t mean that audiences haven’t seen it before, and – try as hard as director Andy Muschietti and screenwriters Christina Hodson and Joby Harold might – there still just wasn’t anything new added to the string of comic book films that have kinda/sorta dabbled in territory not all that far from 2023’s The Flash. Heck, Marvel’s Infinity War (2018) and Endgame (2019) graced the big screen only a few short years ago, and Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021) is still making the rounds on pay cable. Did the suits at DC really think that – with so many strikingly similar ideas – The Flash was going to appear even remotely novel to audiences at this point? Yes, yes, and yes: I get that the story might have a different fabric and some flashier colors; but at the end of the day it’s still spandex for spandex’s sake, and all too much of Worlds Collide has been done and seen before much too recently … even in The Flash’s own damn universe!
In case folks have missed it, the DC Speedster just concluded a nine-season run on television, and quite a bit of its last few confusing seasons, in fact, explored the smaller and wider consequences of temporal and dimensional manipulation perhaps to the death of the writers’ rooms’ better ideas. While I won’t get into any serious discussion of the TV franchise in this space, I will say that, as an effect of investing far too much time in the very same ideas Warner Bros. is now trying out in this motion picture, the television show made less and less coherent sense in the past few seasons. At one time, I – and I think many other viewers – would’ve told you that the Grant Gustin headlined show on The CW was one of the better superhero distractions in every universe; and yet the introduction of greater and greater time travel scenarios killed the ‘feel good’ vibe of the program, ultimately sending it into narrative oblivion. Though showrunners ended it of their own accord, I suspect even they could see the Butterfly Effect well in motion and opted to get out while the getting was good.
So … besides going where audiences had already gone before, what capable shoulders could The Flash’s producers rest the story on?
Granted, there could be a flick here or there that somehow managed to work out entirely well for all involved, but about as long as time travel stories have been around there has been one single unifying rule to the vast majority of them: do not alter the past, or you put damn near everything into jeopardy. From comedies to the more serious Ray Bradbury inspired narrations, audiences have been cautioned with one yarn after another trying to properly recount how even the smallest alterations have led to some of the most astounding outcomes in the (new) present and the distant future. So while The Flash’s singular exploration of this common theme that appeared in 2011’s Flashpoint miniseries may’ve been a tale quite well told, I’d argue that there still was nothing all that revelatory about it in the grand scheme of time travel adventures.
However … just because something is well told doesn’t mean that audiences haven’t seen it before, and – try as hard as director Andy Muschietti and screenwriters Christina Hodson and Joby Harold might – there still just wasn’t anything new added to the string of comic book films that have kinda/sorta dabbled in territory not all that far from 2023’s The Flash. Heck, Marvel’s Infinity War (2018) and Endgame (2019) graced the big screen only a few short years ago, and Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021) is still making the rounds on pay cable. Did the suits at DC really think that – with so many strikingly similar ideas – The Flash was going to appear even remotely novel to audiences at this point? Yes, yes, and yes: I get that the story might have a different fabric and some flashier colors; but at the end of the day it’s still spandex for spandex’s sake, and all too much of Worlds Collide has been done and seen before much too recently … even in The Flash’s own damn universe!
In case folks have missed it, the DC Speedster just concluded a nine-season run on television, and quite a bit of its last few confusing seasons, in fact, explored the smaller and wider consequences of temporal and dimensional manipulation perhaps to the death of the writers’ rooms’ better ideas. While I won’t get into any serious discussion of the TV franchise in this space, I will say that, as an effect of investing far too much time in the very same ideas Warner Bros. is now trying out in this motion picture, the television show made less and less coherent sense in the past few seasons. At one time, I – and I think many other viewers – would’ve told you that the Grant Gustin headlined show on The CW was one of the better superhero distractions in every universe; and yet the introduction of greater and greater time travel scenarios killed the ‘feel good’ vibe of the program, ultimately sending it into narrative oblivion. Though showrunners ended it of their own accord, I suspect even they could see the Butterfly Effect well in motion and opted to get out while the getting was good.
So … besides going where audiences had already gone before, what capable shoulders could The Flash’s producers rest the story on?
I think it’s pretty clear that – again – the suits at Warner Bros. made a huge, huge, huge miscalculation in thinking that audiences were interested in seeing a return of Michael Keaton’s Batman to the big screen.
Now, this isn’t to say that folks weren’t interested in Keaton, specifically, but banking so much of the nostalgia factor on pumping up the returns to a picture that cost in excess of $200 Million was a pretty big risk … especially seeing that such wistfulness hasn’t exactly been performing well fiscally as of late. For example, popular studios like Pixar and Walt Disney have been releasing one theatrical dud after another (how’s nostalgia looking for them?), and even the recent live action incarnation of The Little Mermaid (2023) appears to be headed for fiscal disaster. The slate of Marvel films has been on the commercial decline; while still posting some respectable box office receipts, that franchise’s chief downside has been budgets ballooning out of control. And has anyone with a brain been watching the lessened interest in the forthcoming Indiana Jones spectacle? The Dial Of Destiny is Harrison Ford’s third swan song with a character once epic in pop culture, and now he’s polling more and more like a grandfather long since put out to pasture.
Keaton’s Batman (1989) and his follow-up – Batman Returns (1992) – were popular comic book films from their day; and those films – along with Superman: The Movie (1978) and Superman II (1980) – are definitely callbacks to a time wherein both DC and the WB knew a bit more about crafting such films explicitly for the silver screen. I’ve mentioned before that there’s a great essay in a non-fiction book titled The Many Lives Of The Batman (published in 1991) that details an incredible amount of behind-the-scenes build-up that both companies engaged in privately and jointly to establish trends and cement hype around the Caped Crusader in preparation for the first Keaton adventure; but it would seem that today’s Hollywood thinks that merely churning out one superhero film after another is all that’s required. Again, that wouldn’t appear to be a recipe for success for Marvel presently, and I think many would agree.
And about Keaton?
While I think that there was legitimate interest in seeing the actor return to the theatrical world of Batman, I strongly believe it was in a different role: TV’s Batman Beyond delivered audiences with a younger, hipper, even far more tech savvy incarnation of the world’s greatest detective in the guise of Terry McGinnis, a whippersnapper an aged Bruce Wayne tasked with wearing the Bat-mantle into tomorrow. In fact, it was the elderly Wayne who spent time behind-the-scenes both training and actively counseling the young hero – in real time, via Bat-radio – on his various missions against supervillains new and old. This is where I suspect fandom wanted to see an evolution for Keaton as he remains one of the more popular actors to inhabit the original suit. Whether or not that opportunity ever comes about looks increasingly unlikely with – ahem – The Flash’s current failure, and I find that very sad, indeed.
It's this constant executive mis stepping – this ever-pervasive corporate error in judgment – that plagues The Flash’s first and likely last screen outing.
Now, this isn’t to say that folks weren’t interested in Keaton, specifically, but banking so much of the nostalgia factor on pumping up the returns to a picture that cost in excess of $200 Million was a pretty big risk … especially seeing that such wistfulness hasn’t exactly been performing well fiscally as of late. For example, popular studios like Pixar and Walt Disney have been releasing one theatrical dud after another (how’s nostalgia looking for them?), and even the recent live action incarnation of The Little Mermaid (2023) appears to be headed for fiscal disaster. The slate of Marvel films has been on the commercial decline; while still posting some respectable box office receipts, that franchise’s chief downside has been budgets ballooning out of control. And has anyone with a brain been watching the lessened interest in the forthcoming Indiana Jones spectacle? The Dial Of Destiny is Harrison Ford’s third swan song with a character once epic in pop culture, and now he’s polling more and more like a grandfather long since put out to pasture.
Keaton’s Batman (1989) and his follow-up – Batman Returns (1992) – were popular comic book films from their day; and those films – along with Superman: The Movie (1978) and Superman II (1980) – are definitely callbacks to a time wherein both DC and the WB knew a bit more about crafting such films explicitly for the silver screen. I’ve mentioned before that there’s a great essay in a non-fiction book titled The Many Lives Of The Batman (published in 1991) that details an incredible amount of behind-the-scenes build-up that both companies engaged in privately and jointly to establish trends and cement hype around the Caped Crusader in preparation for the first Keaton adventure; but it would seem that today’s Hollywood thinks that merely churning out one superhero film after another is all that’s required. Again, that wouldn’t appear to be a recipe for success for Marvel presently, and I think many would agree.
And about Keaton?
While I think that there was legitimate interest in seeing the actor return to the theatrical world of Batman, I strongly believe it was in a different role: TV’s Batman Beyond delivered audiences with a younger, hipper, even far more tech savvy incarnation of the world’s greatest detective in the guise of Terry McGinnis, a whippersnapper an aged Bruce Wayne tasked with wearing the Bat-mantle into tomorrow. In fact, it was the elderly Wayne who spent time behind-the-scenes both training and actively counseling the young hero – in real time, via Bat-radio – on his various missions against supervillains new and old. This is where I suspect fandom wanted to see an evolution for Keaton as he remains one of the more popular actors to inhabit the original suit. Whether or not that opportunity ever comes about looks increasingly unlikely with – ahem – The Flash’s current failure, and I find that very sad, indeed.
It's this constant executive mis stepping – this ever-pervasive corporate error in judgment – that plagues The Flash’s first and likely last screen outing.
Ezra Miller – in a dual role – never quite musters the strength needed to carry the weight of the entire escapade. Split between delivering two uniquely comic performances, there just isn’t enough substance between these related but disparate incarnations of Barry Allen to make the story resonate emotionally the way audiences require. The film’s few good and heartfelt scenes – i.e. Bruce Wayne’s opening advice to Barry about the dangers of altering history, Barry’s final goodbye to his mother in the grocery store, etc. – get robbed of their impact most likely because producers instead wanted to spend energy and time within the Speed Force’s temporal bubble, an almost cartoony multiverse intersection that director Muschietti has even gone on record post-release to clarify was never intended to look real. (Erm … if it doesn’t look real, then why should we accept that it and its consequences are?) Shimmer and spectacle will never replace authentic storytelling, and I think maybe all involved in this muddled, phantasmagoric juggernaut ought be looking for a do-over as well.
Still, this is not to say that The Flash was a complete failure. It has some sequences – some of its various bits and pieces – that work quite well and suggest that perhaps out there in the midst of time and space there, too, is another version of the story that’s been embraced and maybe even heralded as the gamechanger Miller, Muschietti, and even DC’s resident head honcho (the controversy-laden James Gunn) claim this one to be. Keaton’s contributions – while nice – all felt a bit forced. The duelling Barrys managed to squeeze in some clever banter in enough places to highlight that violating the Prime Directive of time travel – never ever interact with yourself – wasn’t as uninspired a plot device as it otherwise could’ve been. And Sasha Calle suited up quite spiffily in the role of Kara Zor-El (aka Supergirl) and practically stole the picture in what should be an introduction to an all-new iteration of that Kryptonian descendant but will likely never see the light of day.
The Flash (2023) was produced by DC Comics, DC Entertainment, Warner Bros., and a few more participants. (Those wanting a full accounting can find it on the film’s IMDB.com page.) The film is currently playing theatrically all across America. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, the flick is full of some very good – and some not so good – special effects work; sorry, folks, but I’ve long complained that comic book films more and more look like video games on the silver screen, and I’m glad that you’re all finally catching up with me.
Recommended.
About the best thing that I can say about The Flash (2023) is that – on one level – it’s a perfectly respectable popcorn movie … but that’s also about the worst thing I can say. Thankfully, the cast and crew mostly avoided delivering the usual origins’ style storytelling, mostly relegating that stuff to the background and, instead, rushing face first into something worth talking about … like Barry’s almost unintentional destruction of time, the universe, and everything. Alas, too much of it was the substance of dreams explored before, and what survives is likely to be the end of Miller’s time in the wider DC Universe. Not a complete failure but one that might be talking about for ages … if there is a Zeus.
-- EZ
Still, this is not to say that The Flash was a complete failure. It has some sequences – some of its various bits and pieces – that work quite well and suggest that perhaps out there in the midst of time and space there, too, is another version of the story that’s been embraced and maybe even heralded as the gamechanger Miller, Muschietti, and even DC’s resident head honcho (the controversy-laden James Gunn) claim this one to be. Keaton’s contributions – while nice – all felt a bit forced. The duelling Barrys managed to squeeze in some clever banter in enough places to highlight that violating the Prime Directive of time travel – never ever interact with yourself – wasn’t as uninspired a plot device as it otherwise could’ve been. And Sasha Calle suited up quite spiffily in the role of Kara Zor-El (aka Supergirl) and practically stole the picture in what should be an introduction to an all-new iteration of that Kryptonian descendant but will likely never see the light of day.
The Flash (2023) was produced by DC Comics, DC Entertainment, Warner Bros., and a few more participants. (Those wanting a full accounting can find it on the film’s IMDB.com page.) The film is currently playing theatrically all across America. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, the flick is full of some very good – and some not so good – special effects work; sorry, folks, but I’ve long complained that comic book films more and more look like video games on the silver screen, and I’m glad that you’re all finally catching up with me.
Recommended.
About the best thing that I can say about The Flash (2023) is that – on one level – it’s a perfectly respectable popcorn movie … but that’s also about the worst thing I can say. Thankfully, the cast and crew mostly avoided delivering the usual origins’ style storytelling, mostly relegating that stuff to the background and, instead, rushing face first into something worth talking about … like Barry’s almost unintentional destruction of time, the universe, and everything. Alas, too much of it was the substance of dreams explored before, and what survives is likely to be the end of Miller’s time in the wider DC Universe. Not a complete failure but one that might be talking about for ages … if there is a Zeus.
-- EZ
- Published on
As I’ve said before, I’m quite smitten with the world of film noir.
Honestly, I love it for a whole lot of reasons but only one in particular that I often share with readers here: I see film noir as a black-and-white existence most often populated with broken people making broken choices, and I like to call these characters ‘monsters of a sort.’ That’s why I’ll occasionally cover noirs in this space – along with the Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror features – when I get the inkling, and that happens a lot when I can squeeze in the screenings.
Such is the case today as I was graciously provided a complimentary Blu-ray set by Kino Lorber: Film Noir – The Dark Side Of Cinema, Volume XIV.
Today’s viewing: another late 1950’s noirish surprise that goes by the name of Appointment With A Shadow. Directed by Richard Carlson, the screen story shows attribution to the team of Alec Coppel, Norman Jolley, and Judson Philips. The cast includes George Nader, Joanna Moore, Brian Keith, Virginia Field, and Frank DeKova.
But what’s most important? As noirs go, this one is actually quite good.
(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:
“George Nader plays a reporter whose career is ruined by liquor. A comeback opportunity presents itself when Nader is a bystander at the arrest of a well-known criminal.”
I’ve often suggested that I struggle with films that take a bit too long to develop.
Many within the critical industry love to call films of this type ‘the slow burn,’ but in far too many cases I feel I – as a viewer – am asked to wait too long for an interesting story to authentically swing into gear. Acting from the 1950’s and 1960’s tends to be a touch maudlin at times – entirely too predictable – and this usually has me reaching for the fast-forward button, hoping to speed things up to the point wherein I can join the action – the true substance of an ill-paced picture – already in progress.
Mind you: I nearly fell into that trap with Appointment With A Shadow.
Honestly, I love it for a whole lot of reasons but only one in particular that I often share with readers here: I see film noir as a black-and-white existence most often populated with broken people making broken choices, and I like to call these characters ‘monsters of a sort.’ That’s why I’ll occasionally cover noirs in this space – along with the Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror features – when I get the inkling, and that happens a lot when I can squeeze in the screenings.
Such is the case today as I was graciously provided a complimentary Blu-ray set by Kino Lorber: Film Noir – The Dark Side Of Cinema, Volume XIV.
Today’s viewing: another late 1950’s noirish surprise that goes by the name of Appointment With A Shadow. Directed by Richard Carlson, the screen story shows attribution to the team of Alec Coppel, Norman Jolley, and Judson Philips. The cast includes George Nader, Joanna Moore, Brian Keith, Virginia Field, and Frank DeKova.
But what’s most important? As noirs go, this one is actually quite good.
(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:
“George Nader plays a reporter whose career is ruined by liquor. A comeback opportunity presents itself when Nader is a bystander at the arrest of a well-known criminal.”
I’ve often suggested that I struggle with films that take a bit too long to develop.
Many within the critical industry love to call films of this type ‘the slow burn,’ but in far too many cases I feel I – as a viewer – am asked to wait too long for an interesting story to authentically swing into gear. Acting from the 1950’s and 1960’s tends to be a touch maudlin at times – entirely too predictable – and this usually has me reaching for the fast-forward button, hoping to speed things up to the point wherein I can join the action – the true substance of an ill-paced picture – already in progress.
Mind you: I nearly fell into that trap with Appointment With A Shadow.
Much of my misjudgment was owed to the flick’s set-up: at first glance, Shadow honestly appears that it’s going to be little more than a period melodrama wherein the incessantly smitten Penny Spencer (played with syrupy conviction by Virginia Moore) is pining over what looks to be a failed love affair with alcoholic boyfriend Paul Baxter (George Nader). At the behest of her big brother / law officer (Brian Keith), she’s given her true love one last chance: sober up, regain his place as a successful big city reporter, or get the hell out once and for all, a challenge it becomes clear poor sad sack Paul looks most likely to fail. These scenes – while good – do play out like a bloated After School special as the actor stumbles and fumbles from one room to the next, stealing and sneaking a few loving glances at those bottles of rye the lady has kept on the premises as if to hauntingly tempt the man. As you can guess, I had to fight that temptation to reach for the remote …
But, then, Baxter arrives on the scene of what’s supposed to be one of the era’s biggest police busts, only to privately learn that he may have very well just stepped into the greatest news coup of the decade! (Spoiler rules really don’t apply, but I’m not gonna spoil this one.) At this point, Nader’s skills as an actor truly come into play as he fights to set aside that battle with the bottle, realizing that his life has now been forced into the crosshairs in more ways than one. What evolves from this point on is a fabulous cat-and-mouse between not only the reporter and the mob but also one man racing against the clock in that fateful place known as Noir Alley! With no friends, no hope, and – most importantly – no alcohol to muddle his senses, Baxter relies once again on his reporter’s wits to try to stay one step ahead of the law and the lawlessness in the bid to find love, life, and longevity where none are in supply.
Performances are solid across the board – though I’ll admit Moore was a bit hammy, at times – and Shadow turns out to be one of the finer, quieter pictures of the noir era. Long forgotten, this one deserves to be discovered again, and I encourage viewers to seek it out and explore.
Appointment With A Shadow (1957) was produced by Universal International Pictures (UI). DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the sights and sounds to this advertised brand new HD master (from a 2K scan of the 35MM fine grain) to be quite good. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc includes an audio commentary from film historian David Del Valle and filmmaker David DeCoteau along with the theatrical trailer.
Strongly recommended.
I’ll admit that – right out of the gate – I didn’t think that Appointment With A Shadow (1957) was going to be one I’d like. The set-up was a bit curious – maybe a bit overlong – and a few of the performances felt a bit too canned, too typical of a bygone era. But once the film takes a twist with a fateful rooftop meeting, this nifty little ditty elevated to the point of Appointment viewing … a terrific noir tale that, surprisingly, has a few interesting character developments, a late-developing femme fatale, and a surprisingly upbeat finale. Well crafted, director Carlson … well crafted, indeed.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Appointment With A Shadow (1957) – as part of their Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema XIV collection – by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
But, then, Baxter arrives on the scene of what’s supposed to be one of the era’s biggest police busts, only to privately learn that he may have very well just stepped into the greatest news coup of the decade! (Spoiler rules really don’t apply, but I’m not gonna spoil this one.) At this point, Nader’s skills as an actor truly come into play as he fights to set aside that battle with the bottle, realizing that his life has now been forced into the crosshairs in more ways than one. What evolves from this point on is a fabulous cat-and-mouse between not only the reporter and the mob but also one man racing against the clock in that fateful place known as Noir Alley! With no friends, no hope, and – most importantly – no alcohol to muddle his senses, Baxter relies once again on his reporter’s wits to try to stay one step ahead of the law and the lawlessness in the bid to find love, life, and longevity where none are in supply.
Performances are solid across the board – though I’ll admit Moore was a bit hammy, at times – and Shadow turns out to be one of the finer, quieter pictures of the noir era. Long forgotten, this one deserves to be discovered again, and I encourage viewers to seek it out and explore.
Appointment With A Shadow (1957) was produced by Universal International Pictures (UI). DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the sights and sounds to this advertised brand new HD master (from a 2K scan of the 35MM fine grain) to be quite good. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc includes an audio commentary from film historian David Del Valle and filmmaker David DeCoteau along with the theatrical trailer.
Strongly recommended.
I’ll admit that – right out of the gate – I didn’t think that Appointment With A Shadow (1957) was going to be one I’d like. The set-up was a bit curious – maybe a bit overlong – and a few of the performances felt a bit too canned, too typical of a bygone era. But once the film takes a twist with a fateful rooftop meeting, this nifty little ditty elevated to the point of Appointment viewing … a terrific noir tale that, surprisingly, has a few interesting character developments, a late-developing femme fatale, and a surprisingly upbeat finale. Well crafted, director Carlson … well crafted, indeed.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Appointment With A Shadow (1957) – as part of their Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema XIV collection – by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- 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 episode’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An average woman is stunned to discover a global streaming platform has launched a prestige TV drama adaptation of her life – in which she is portrayed by Hollywood A-lister Salma Hayek.”
Whether you’ll admit it or not, I suspect that each of us holds some secret yet dire fear about the intrusion our present level of technology affords our cultural betters.
Now, mind you: this doesn’t necessarily mean that each of us has a deep, dark desire to run out and smash our cell phones, our WiFi devices, or any of our Smart TVs. All I’m trying to say in this humble prose is that we probably have some latent concern – some subconscious issue – about who could be listening in to our most private moments. This is likely fueled as much by the natural desire to avoid any lasting embarrassment as it is an anxiety tied to just how much Google or Siri might be listening in when they shouldn’t be, but it’s still the kind of thing we’re more likely to joke about amongst friends than we are to functionally do anything to avoid.
It's this clinical exposure to what irks us all so privately that has been the substance of so many great anthologies, the present Black Mirror now included. Years before it, Rod Serling mined such territory with both The Twilight Zone and Night Gallery, as did the writers and creators of The Outer Limits, Tales From The Darkside, Tales From The Crypt, Creepshow, and even Monsters. (Yes, yes, and yes: I realize some of these programs might not have had as relatable subject matter, but my observation still stands.) The very best installments of these (and other) shows have taunted and teased us in ways that made us laugh – comfortably or not so much so – at the predicaments their characters have found themselves in, and I suspect that “Joan Is Awful” might very well have viewers exercising extra care – in the days ahead – about what they so blindly simply click ‘accept & continue’ on their iPhone.
Joan (played – on one level – by Annie Murphy) – meant to be an ‘Everyman’ character but a bit too far removed in the role of a faceless executive to work fully as designed – isn’t exactly enjoying her best life but is – like so many – making the best of it. Trapped in a somewhat loveless relationship with her significant other, she wiles away her therapy sessions wining about what could’ve / should’ve / would’ve been, never mustering the confidence to fully go out and seize the day because, quite frankly, that’d be exhausting. But relaxing one night in front of the TV with her milquetoast paramour Krish (Avi Nash), she suddenly finds the details of her day just lived on full display globally via an entertainment platform called Streamberry (clearly a Netflix-inspired clone). What’s she’s slow to realize is that she’s blindly signed away the highs and lows of her existence to the technological giant, and now she’s unwittingly become a media sensation as a truly contemptible human being although given the wonderful face of Salma Hayek.
And … what woman would refuse being played by the goddess Salma effing Hayek?!?!
Therein lies Joan’s dilemma: with friends, family, and total strangers increasingly privy to the shallowness inherent in her good, bad, and ugly of a thought-to-be private life, things ain’t pretty. Her prime-time misdeeds quickly alienated everyone around her, forcing her out of a job and into a kind of cultural exile. In no short order, she’s committed to ending Joan’s terrible, horrible, no good, very bad existence … at least in its broadcast form. But given that she’s apparently signed away consent via the endless fine print that’s become part and parcel of any and every business commitment, this will be no easy task.
As Fate would have it, the plot for “Joan Is Awful” doesn’t quite end there – trust me when I say quantifying it is also no easy task – and these circumstances pile on through layers and layers, but I remain staunchly committed to not spoiling those elements I believe are best discovered by audiences on their own. “Awful” presents more than a single compelling question for those watching closely, perhaps even challenging them to think of what they, too, may’ve unwittingly accomplished in their own private lives for convenience’s sake. Director Ally Pankiw keeps the drama (and comedy) moving at just the right pace; Murphy has that girl-next-door quality that makes most of the hour function on its own intellectual merits; and Charlie Brooker’s script cleverly tugs at modern anxieties in ways that might make Rod Serling green with envy.
Black Mirror’s “Joan Is Awful” (S06E01) was produced by Charlie Brooker and company in cooperation with Netflix. The episode is currently available for viewing on the streaming giant. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the accompanying sights and sounds were exceptional from start-to-finish.
Strongly recommended.
Black Mirror has, arguably, produced some of the best mindbenders in the modern age of television and streaming; and “Joan Is Awful” definitely deserves to be added to the growing list of smart features produced with a watchful eye tuned back on our increasing addictions to technology. Part dark comedy (with a bit of bawd thrown in for the church scene) and part cerebral chiller, it might just make society take pause, consider what we’ve done, and promote a better course of action … but, if we did, then where would such ideas like this ever come from?
Nah. We’re knuckleheads. We’re ultimately destined for the trash heap of history. And we’re deserving of Joan’s awful, awful destiny because she is us, we are her, she is awful, and we – alas – awful, as well.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the entire sixth season of Black Mirror is presently available to me as a current Netflix subscriber, and I was provided absolutely no advance screening of any episodes in exchange for a complimentary review.
-- EZ
From the episode’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An average woman is stunned to discover a global streaming platform has launched a prestige TV drama adaptation of her life – in which she is portrayed by Hollywood A-lister Salma Hayek.”
Whether you’ll admit it or not, I suspect that each of us holds some secret yet dire fear about the intrusion our present level of technology affords our cultural betters.
Now, mind you: this doesn’t necessarily mean that each of us has a deep, dark desire to run out and smash our cell phones, our WiFi devices, or any of our Smart TVs. All I’m trying to say in this humble prose is that we probably have some latent concern – some subconscious issue – about who could be listening in to our most private moments. This is likely fueled as much by the natural desire to avoid any lasting embarrassment as it is an anxiety tied to just how much Google or Siri might be listening in when they shouldn’t be, but it’s still the kind of thing we’re more likely to joke about amongst friends than we are to functionally do anything to avoid.
It's this clinical exposure to what irks us all so privately that has been the substance of so many great anthologies, the present Black Mirror now included. Years before it, Rod Serling mined such territory with both The Twilight Zone and Night Gallery, as did the writers and creators of The Outer Limits, Tales From The Darkside, Tales From The Crypt, Creepshow, and even Monsters. (Yes, yes, and yes: I realize some of these programs might not have had as relatable subject matter, but my observation still stands.) The very best installments of these (and other) shows have taunted and teased us in ways that made us laugh – comfortably or not so much so – at the predicaments their characters have found themselves in, and I suspect that “Joan Is Awful” might very well have viewers exercising extra care – in the days ahead – about what they so blindly simply click ‘accept & continue’ on their iPhone.
Joan (played – on one level – by Annie Murphy) – meant to be an ‘Everyman’ character but a bit too far removed in the role of a faceless executive to work fully as designed – isn’t exactly enjoying her best life but is – like so many – making the best of it. Trapped in a somewhat loveless relationship with her significant other, she wiles away her therapy sessions wining about what could’ve / should’ve / would’ve been, never mustering the confidence to fully go out and seize the day because, quite frankly, that’d be exhausting. But relaxing one night in front of the TV with her milquetoast paramour Krish (Avi Nash), she suddenly finds the details of her day just lived on full display globally via an entertainment platform called Streamberry (clearly a Netflix-inspired clone). What’s she’s slow to realize is that she’s blindly signed away the highs and lows of her existence to the technological giant, and now she’s unwittingly become a media sensation as a truly contemptible human being although given the wonderful face of Salma Hayek.
And … what woman would refuse being played by the goddess Salma effing Hayek?!?!
Therein lies Joan’s dilemma: with friends, family, and total strangers increasingly privy to the shallowness inherent in her good, bad, and ugly of a thought-to-be private life, things ain’t pretty. Her prime-time misdeeds quickly alienated everyone around her, forcing her out of a job and into a kind of cultural exile. In no short order, she’s committed to ending Joan’s terrible, horrible, no good, very bad existence … at least in its broadcast form. But given that she’s apparently signed away consent via the endless fine print that’s become part and parcel of any and every business commitment, this will be no easy task.
As Fate would have it, the plot for “Joan Is Awful” doesn’t quite end there – trust me when I say quantifying it is also no easy task – and these circumstances pile on through layers and layers, but I remain staunchly committed to not spoiling those elements I believe are best discovered by audiences on their own. “Awful” presents more than a single compelling question for those watching closely, perhaps even challenging them to think of what they, too, may’ve unwittingly accomplished in their own private lives for convenience’s sake. Director Ally Pankiw keeps the drama (and comedy) moving at just the right pace; Murphy has that girl-next-door quality that makes most of the hour function on its own intellectual merits; and Charlie Brooker’s script cleverly tugs at modern anxieties in ways that might make Rod Serling green with envy.
Black Mirror’s “Joan Is Awful” (S06E01) was produced by Charlie Brooker and company in cooperation with Netflix. The episode is currently available for viewing on the streaming giant. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the accompanying sights and sounds were exceptional from start-to-finish.
Strongly recommended.
Black Mirror has, arguably, produced some of the best mindbenders in the modern age of television and streaming; and “Joan Is Awful” definitely deserves to be added to the growing list of smart features produced with a watchful eye tuned back on our increasing addictions to technology. Part dark comedy (with a bit of bawd thrown in for the church scene) and part cerebral chiller, it might just make society take pause, consider what we’ve done, and promote a better course of action … but, if we did, then where would such ideas like this ever come from?
Nah. We’re knuckleheads. We’re ultimately destined for the trash heap of history. And we’re deserving of Joan’s awful, awful destiny because she is us, we are her, she is awful, and we – alas – awful, as well.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the entire sixth season of Black Mirror is presently available to me as a current Netflix subscriber, and I was provided absolutely no advance screening of any episodes in exchange for a complimentary review.
-- EZ
- Published on
Stardate 06.20.2023.D: Monsters Of A Sort - 1950's 'Undercover Girl' Puts A Good Gal In A Tough Spot
As I’ve said before, I’m quite smitten with the world of film noir.
Honestly, I love it for a whole lot of reasons but only one in particular that I often share with readers here: I see film noir as a black-and-white existence most often populated with broken people making broken choices, and I like to call these characters ‘monsters of a sort.’ That’s why I’ll occasionally cover noirs in this space – along with the Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror features – when I get the inkling, and that happens a lot when I can squeeze in the screenings.
Such is the case today as I was graciously provided a complimentary Blu-ray set by Kino Lorber: Film Noir – The Dark Side Of Cinema, Volume XIV.
Today’s viewing: 1950’s Undercover Girl comes from the combined efforts of director Joseph Pevney (who interestingly enough marshaled a lot of Star Trek to the small screen in the late 1960’s) and writers Harry Essex, Robert Hardy Andrews, and Francis Rosenwald. The crime drama stars Alexis Smith, Scott Brady, Richard Egan, Gladys George, and Edmon Ryan.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A young woman joins the Police Department in order to track down the killer who murdered her father.”
Sometimes, readers notice that I’ve remarked how a certain film – one that gets advertised to me as film noir – doesn’t quite fit with what I’ve known as noir for much of my life.
In short, this kinda/sorta exposes that film noir – as its own unique subset of the conventional thriller – has never quite operated culturally from the same starting place. For me, I’ve seen its definition shift over the years; and while those in certain circles have always maintained some very specific criteria requiring a title for inclusion in the genre, viewing audiences have been a bit more tolerate.
I think it’s safe to say that most folks who’ve seen Undercover Girl – regular folks, people like you and me – would stop short of thinking of it in the same breath or context as Laura (1944), Double Indemnity (1944), or Out Of The Past (1947). Simply put, it doesn’t quite have the narrative stuffing much less the intellectual weight of those pictures, instead offering up a fairly routine crime drama that only hints at the complexities other entries bring front-and-center. Again, I’m not offering that observation to suggest it isn’t worth the time and effort; rather, it’s that most audiences will likely not much remember it except for a few passages that only approach what others accomplishes a bit more vividly.
Honestly, I love it for a whole lot of reasons but only one in particular that I often share with readers here: I see film noir as a black-and-white existence most often populated with broken people making broken choices, and I like to call these characters ‘monsters of a sort.’ That’s why I’ll occasionally cover noirs in this space – along with the Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror features – when I get the inkling, and that happens a lot when I can squeeze in the screenings.
Such is the case today as I was graciously provided a complimentary Blu-ray set by Kino Lorber: Film Noir – The Dark Side Of Cinema, Volume XIV.
Today’s viewing: 1950’s Undercover Girl comes from the combined efforts of director Joseph Pevney (who interestingly enough marshaled a lot of Star Trek to the small screen in the late 1960’s) and writers Harry Essex, Robert Hardy Andrews, and Francis Rosenwald. The crime drama stars Alexis Smith, Scott Brady, Richard Egan, Gladys George, and Edmon Ryan.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A young woman joins the Police Department in order to track down the killer who murdered her father.”
Sometimes, readers notice that I’ve remarked how a certain film – one that gets advertised to me as film noir – doesn’t quite fit with what I’ve known as noir for much of my life.
In short, this kinda/sorta exposes that film noir – as its own unique subset of the conventional thriller – has never quite operated culturally from the same starting place. For me, I’ve seen its definition shift over the years; and while those in certain circles have always maintained some very specific criteria requiring a title for inclusion in the genre, viewing audiences have been a bit more tolerate.
I think it’s safe to say that most folks who’ve seen Undercover Girl – regular folks, people like you and me – would stop short of thinking of it in the same breath or context as Laura (1944), Double Indemnity (1944), or Out Of The Past (1947). Simply put, it doesn’t quite have the narrative stuffing much less the intellectual weight of those pictures, instead offering up a fairly routine crime drama that only hints at the complexities other entries bring front-and-center. Again, I’m not offering that observation to suggest it isn’t worth the time and effort; rather, it’s that most audiences will likely not much remember it except for a few passages that only approach what others accomplishes a bit more vividly.
Although I couldn’t say from where, I know that I’ve read about the work (and praise) of actress Alexis Smith; she headlines Undercover Girl as the policewoman in training who kinda/sorta falls into the assignment that links to her cop-father’s death. A look at her IMDB.com doesn’t necessarily bring up any bright spots in my memory – her heyday was certainly the 1950’s, though TV appearances made up a good deal of her resume through the 1970’s up until her death from brain cancer in 1993 – but there are a few pictures of note I’ve seen and enjoyed. The script for Undercover never quite gives her character the range and weight I think it could’ve had; Smith manages to squeeze in two sides to the character of ‘Christine Miller,’ even though the story as presented never quite requires a great deal of depth. The performance is more serviceable than anything else, and I’m left wondering if she was capable of doing more with it were it required.
Sadly, the picture is absent a real enemy. (Don’t get me wrong: there’s an obvious bad guy or two in here, but they’re fairly tame.) Without a baddie with which to truly appear either in tandem with or in opposition to, Undercover occasionally feels like it could’ve twisted and turned in any direction whilst never really amounting to all that much. A few good moments of melodrama – along with her blown identity in the final reel – finally brings a bit of boil to the pot; it’s all just a little too little a little too late for this lover of black-and-white thrillers.
Undercover Girl (1950) was produced by Universal International Pictures (UI). DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? There’s no indication of this particular pressing was afforded any new mastering, but don’t let that put you off: it all looks and sounds very good, and there’s some pretty solid cinematography here and there for those who like that kinda thing. Lastly, the disc boasts a theatrical trailer and an audio commentary from historian/author Julie Kirgo.
Mildly Recommended.
Undercover Girl (1950) is one of those thrillers that definitely ends better than it begins. The set-up sequence is good, and it hints toward something that feels more hard-boiled than it evolves, instead going a bit softer with villains a bit too photogenic for their time and place. Smith proves up to the task in a good finish, but this one kinda/sorta failed to resonate the way so many other noirs have with me. Perhaps it’s a bit too crisp and clean for my tastes, after all.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Undercover Girl (1950) – as part of their Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema XIV collection – by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Sadly, the picture is absent a real enemy. (Don’t get me wrong: there’s an obvious bad guy or two in here, but they’re fairly tame.) Without a baddie with which to truly appear either in tandem with or in opposition to, Undercover occasionally feels like it could’ve twisted and turned in any direction whilst never really amounting to all that much. A few good moments of melodrama – along with her blown identity in the final reel – finally brings a bit of boil to the pot; it’s all just a little too little a little too late for this lover of black-and-white thrillers.
Undercover Girl (1950) was produced by Universal International Pictures (UI). DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? There’s no indication of this particular pressing was afforded any new mastering, but don’t let that put you off: it all looks and sounds very good, and there’s some pretty solid cinematography here and there for those who like that kinda thing. Lastly, the disc boasts a theatrical trailer and an audio commentary from historian/author Julie Kirgo.
Mildly Recommended.
Undercover Girl (1950) is one of those thrillers that definitely ends better than it begins. The set-up sequence is good, and it hints toward something that feels more hard-boiled than it evolves, instead going a bit softer with villains a bit too photogenic for their time and place. Smith proves up to the task in a good finish, but this one kinda/sorta failed to resonate the way so many other noirs have with me. Perhaps it’s a bit too crisp and clean for my tastes, after all.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Undercover Girl (1950) – as part of their Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema XIV collection – by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- 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 episode’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A young couple travel to a sleepy Scottish town to start work on a genteel nature documentary – but find themselves drawn to a juicy local story involving shocking events of the past.”
Think what you will, but not all of ‘small town America’ is baseball, hot apple pie, and Jimmy Stewart.
To be fair, I can say this because, yes, I grew up in a small town in the middle of the great American plains. This was at a time when, sadly, industry was disappearing from an awful lot of small places that weren’t fortunate enough to have a passing interstate; so the employment – and future prospects – for a whole generation of youth – basically, my generation – was quickly disappearing. No matter how many new companies and/or businesses could spring up overnight, there’s just no replacing a major manufacturer shutting down … with the elimination of, say, three, four, or five hundred jobs. When little cities close up shop, they pretty much close up shop for good … and the resulting pain is felt for years.
This is the kind of place pictured in Black Mirror’s Loch Henry: a once prosperous and perhaps idyllic tourist trap lost its share of the local wealth when one of its residents – Iain Adair – turned out to be a closeted serial killer. As you can imagine, those longtime visitors opted to head to other (safer) destinations in the days ahead, so Loch Henry’s shops and restaurants and pubs were forced to shut their doors once and for all. With no prospects for a future, even the residents began moving far and away, setting their sights on greener pastures and leaving the once hustling and bustling little jaunt behind in the rear-view mirrors. Those who remained? Well, they got by, mostly on the kindness of themselves and what few others who passed their way, but it’s indeed slim pickings for an existence if Loch Henry is one’s final destination.
So it ain’t hard to imagine just how a darkness might take hold in such a quaint hole, and that’s the substance of this particular installment to the popular Netflix streaming anthology. When a former resident comes back home to visit his mother, he and his videographer girlfriend slowly stumble onto the idea of producing one of those ‘true crime’ podcasts examining the circumstances of the local legend. The setting is perfect, and the town’s cultural unraveling is exactly the kind of thing audiences are attracted to, so it would seem that history is not quite finished with the loch. Pulling back the layer of time – and uncovering a few still-lingering connections to what went down that fateful day – only produces questions that may or may not deserve to be answered. Either way, it becomes pretty clear early on that something remains in place, and this disturbance just might prove to be the death of them.
The problem with both watching and reading as many mysteries – true crime and otherwise – that I have practically guarantees I’m likely to see the strings being pulled along the way; and that’s exactly why I struggled with enjoying a good deal of Loch Henry. Too much of its details unspool in a theatrically obvious way – or, if not obvious, then far too formulaically – and I suspect that many who discover this hour are likely to find it predictable. While its performances and production details are all spot on, there’s just no obscuring the central recipe strongly enough to maintain the level of suspense and/or disbelief required to make it as compelling – nor as fresh – as needed.
Sometimes a good yarn is just … well … a different ball of yarn.
Black Mirror’s “Loch Henry” (S06E02) was produced by Charlie Brooker and company in cooperation with Netflix. The episode is currently available for viewing on the streaming giant. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the accompanying sights and sounds were exceptional from start-to-finish.
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being entertained quietly by “Loch Henry.” As a kinda/sorta polished riff on society’s long-established fascination with true crimes and unsolved murders, it functions quite nicely as an amiable yet mildly ominous distraction. Rest assured: as I’ve come from a small town, I’ll guarantee each of them has their own share of secrets best left unexplored. But as there’s just nothing different to the formula – and you’re pretty much assured of there being some twist likely coming before the inevitable conclusion (this is Black Mirror, after all) – the final estimation is reasonably easy-to-predict even if you’re watching with one eye or one hand tied behind your back.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the entire sixth season of Black Mirror is presently available to me as a current Netflix subscriber, and I was provided absolutely no advance screening of any episodes in exchange for a complimentary review.
-- EZ
From the episode’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A young couple travel to a sleepy Scottish town to start work on a genteel nature documentary – but find themselves drawn to a juicy local story involving shocking events of the past.”
Think what you will, but not all of ‘small town America’ is baseball, hot apple pie, and Jimmy Stewart.
To be fair, I can say this because, yes, I grew up in a small town in the middle of the great American plains. This was at a time when, sadly, industry was disappearing from an awful lot of small places that weren’t fortunate enough to have a passing interstate; so the employment – and future prospects – for a whole generation of youth – basically, my generation – was quickly disappearing. No matter how many new companies and/or businesses could spring up overnight, there’s just no replacing a major manufacturer shutting down … with the elimination of, say, three, four, or five hundred jobs. When little cities close up shop, they pretty much close up shop for good … and the resulting pain is felt for years.
This is the kind of place pictured in Black Mirror’s Loch Henry: a once prosperous and perhaps idyllic tourist trap lost its share of the local wealth when one of its residents – Iain Adair – turned out to be a closeted serial killer. As you can imagine, those longtime visitors opted to head to other (safer) destinations in the days ahead, so Loch Henry’s shops and restaurants and pubs were forced to shut their doors once and for all. With no prospects for a future, even the residents began moving far and away, setting their sights on greener pastures and leaving the once hustling and bustling little jaunt behind in the rear-view mirrors. Those who remained? Well, they got by, mostly on the kindness of themselves and what few others who passed their way, but it’s indeed slim pickings for an existence if Loch Henry is one’s final destination.
So it ain’t hard to imagine just how a darkness might take hold in such a quaint hole, and that’s the substance of this particular installment to the popular Netflix streaming anthology. When a former resident comes back home to visit his mother, he and his videographer girlfriend slowly stumble onto the idea of producing one of those ‘true crime’ podcasts examining the circumstances of the local legend. The setting is perfect, and the town’s cultural unraveling is exactly the kind of thing audiences are attracted to, so it would seem that history is not quite finished with the loch. Pulling back the layer of time – and uncovering a few still-lingering connections to what went down that fateful day – only produces questions that may or may not deserve to be answered. Either way, it becomes pretty clear early on that something remains in place, and this disturbance just might prove to be the death of them.
The problem with both watching and reading as many mysteries – true crime and otherwise – that I have practically guarantees I’m likely to see the strings being pulled along the way; and that’s exactly why I struggled with enjoying a good deal of Loch Henry. Too much of its details unspool in a theatrically obvious way – or, if not obvious, then far too formulaically – and I suspect that many who discover this hour are likely to find it predictable. While its performances and production details are all spot on, there’s just no obscuring the central recipe strongly enough to maintain the level of suspense and/or disbelief required to make it as compelling – nor as fresh – as needed.
Sometimes a good yarn is just … well … a different ball of yarn.
Black Mirror’s “Loch Henry” (S06E02) was produced by Charlie Brooker and company in cooperation with Netflix. The episode is currently available for viewing on the streaming giant. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the accompanying sights and sounds were exceptional from start-to-finish.
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with being entertained quietly by “Loch Henry.” As a kinda/sorta polished riff on society’s long-established fascination with true crimes and unsolved murders, it functions quite nicely as an amiable yet mildly ominous distraction. Rest assured: as I’ve come from a small town, I’ll guarantee each of them has their own share of secrets best left unexplored. But as there’s just nothing different to the formula – and you’re pretty much assured of there being some twist likely coming before the inevitable conclusion (this is Black Mirror, after all) – the final estimation is reasonably easy-to-predict even if you’re watching with one eye or one hand tied behind your back.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the entire sixth season of Black Mirror is presently available to me as a current Netflix subscriber, and I was provided absolutely no advance screening of any episodes in exchange for a complimentary review.
-- EZ