- Published on
It’s very, very difficult to determine why any particular film becomes a cult favorite.
This isn’t to say that cult films don’t have characteristics in common. In some cases, they might emerge from the same creative mind or have been marshaled to the screen by the same director. As a result, they may have attributes that look and/or aesthetically feel similar, giving audiences an overwhelming sense of familiarity that they’re subconsciously drawn to in modest numbers. Still – on other opportunities – the storyteller along with the cast and crew might revel in degrees of excess, turning what might be a rather ordinary experience into something extraordinary along the way. It’s this over-the-top sensibility that more often than not turns many Horror flicks into cult favorites, giving projects the legs to stand on their own each and every time some new prospects plunk the DVD in the player or order it up for streaming.
And … then there’s Dolls (1986).
On the surface, Dolls would appear to be a Horror picture. Its destructive cabal of animated action figures – ones coming in all shapes and sizes – seemingly exist only to lie patiently in wait for another victim to show up at their respective doors; but – for a Horror picture – there really isn’t all that much blood. Furthermore, it never quite revels in any surplus of the usual gory circumstances or grim awareness, pretty much offing one unsuspecting victim and moving along – when appropriate – to the next. Lastly, while it stems (in part) from the library of the late director Stuart Gordon -- a man who had a reputation at the time for producing things more than a bit drenched in blood – Dolls never quite feels much less looks like the routine Gordon potboiler.
So how did this … this … this thing become a cult film?
Well, I suspect it’s because each of us at some point in our past had a doll (though boys prefer not to call it such). And I suspect each of us in those days gone by probably confided in that piece of fabric and plastic. Maybe we gave it attributes, traits, or responsibilities, imagined it gave us some fateful advice, and watched over us while we slept in our beds, keeping us safe from those things that went bump in the night. Our creativity alone imbued these precious treasures with skills and abilities beyond mortal men, and I think it’s these private but shared harmonies that resonated so well with enough viewers that Dolls became a closeted favorite.
(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 dysfunctional family of three stops by a mansion during a storm – father, stepmother, and child. The child discovers that the elderly owners are magical toy makers and have a haunted collection of dolls.”
This isn’t to say that cult films don’t have characteristics in common. In some cases, they might emerge from the same creative mind or have been marshaled to the screen by the same director. As a result, they may have attributes that look and/or aesthetically feel similar, giving audiences an overwhelming sense of familiarity that they’re subconsciously drawn to in modest numbers. Still – on other opportunities – the storyteller along with the cast and crew might revel in degrees of excess, turning what might be a rather ordinary experience into something extraordinary along the way. It’s this over-the-top sensibility that more often than not turns many Horror flicks into cult favorites, giving projects the legs to stand on their own each and every time some new prospects plunk the DVD in the player or order it up for streaming.
And … then there’s Dolls (1986).
On the surface, Dolls would appear to be a Horror picture. Its destructive cabal of animated action figures – ones coming in all shapes and sizes – seemingly exist only to lie patiently in wait for another victim to show up at their respective doors; but – for a Horror picture – there really isn’t all that much blood. Furthermore, it never quite revels in any surplus of the usual gory circumstances or grim awareness, pretty much offing one unsuspecting victim and moving along – when appropriate – to the next. Lastly, while it stems (in part) from the library of the late director Stuart Gordon -- a man who had a reputation at the time for producing things more than a bit drenched in blood – Dolls never quite feels much less looks like the routine Gordon potboiler.
So how did this … this … this thing become a cult film?
Well, I suspect it’s because each of us at some point in our past had a doll (though boys prefer not to call it such). And I suspect each of us in those days gone by probably confided in that piece of fabric and plastic. Maybe we gave it attributes, traits, or responsibilities, imagined it gave us some fateful advice, and watched over us while we slept in our beds, keeping us safe from those things that went bump in the night. Our creativity alone imbued these precious treasures with skills and abilities beyond mortal men, and I think it’s these private but shared harmonies that resonated so well with enough viewers that Dolls became a closeted favorite.
(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 dysfunctional family of three stops by a mansion during a storm – father, stepmother, and child. The child discovers that the elderly owners are magical toy makers and have a haunted collection of dolls.”
According to his professional resume, Stuart Gordon directed just over twenty films, but I think it’s safe to argue that he never made anything quite like Dolls again. Google.com reports that 1987’s figures suggest it was shot on a budget of $2 million but went on to gross $3.5 million globally. Though I can’t find any listing of receipts for its home video take, I suspect the flick did quite well, emerging as it did at a time when video outlets were up and running on practically every other street corner across rural America. Charles Band’s Empire Pictures’ catalogue fared quite well in that era; so, believing that Dolls created a bit of sensation and popularity isn’t all that hard to accept.
As a project, Dolls isn’t all that complex: an imaginative young girl, Judy (played winningly by a young Carrie Lorraine), and her embittered father David (Ian Patrick Williams) and even worse shrew/stepmother Rosemary (Carolyn Purdy-Gordon) happen across an elderly estate that conceals more than a bit of magic and mystery where its hundreds of custom-built dolls come to life to extract a bit of plastic justice on those who’ve led some very bad, bad lives. When the home’s elderly caretakers (exceptional performances from Guy Rolfe and Hilary Mason) invite them in for the night out of the rain – along with a few other strays who stumble on the same path – it becomes increasingly clear that not everyone is destined to make it out alive. What can I say? Rural Europe is a dangerous place, but we already learned that lesson from An American Werewolf In London (1981).
The script is attributed to Ed Naha, a name that certainly carries its own influence among those of us who follow genre materials. His career has been filled with hits big and small including such titles as C.H.U.D. II – Bud The Chud (1989), Honey I Shrunk The Kids (1989), Dollman (1991), and Omega Doom (1996). With Dolls, he weaves an interesting concoction, giving this particular cabal of toys enough menace to match their magic. While his characters might suffer a bit from being a bit too predictable here and there, I think it’s safe to conclude that not even he took much of this with any degree of seriousness, crafting it all under the rubric of being a fairy tale … if not one of the darkest and deadliest fairy tales of them all.
As a project, Dolls isn’t all that complex: an imaginative young girl, Judy (played winningly by a young Carrie Lorraine), and her embittered father David (Ian Patrick Williams) and even worse shrew/stepmother Rosemary (Carolyn Purdy-Gordon) happen across an elderly estate that conceals more than a bit of magic and mystery where its hundreds of custom-built dolls come to life to extract a bit of plastic justice on those who’ve led some very bad, bad lives. When the home’s elderly caretakers (exceptional performances from Guy Rolfe and Hilary Mason) invite them in for the night out of the rain – along with a few other strays who stumble on the same path – it becomes increasingly clear that not everyone is destined to make it out alive. What can I say? Rural Europe is a dangerous place, but we already learned that lesson from An American Werewolf In London (1981).
The script is attributed to Ed Naha, a name that certainly carries its own influence among those of us who follow genre materials. His career has been filled with hits big and small including such titles as C.H.U.D. II – Bud The Chud (1989), Honey I Shrunk The Kids (1989), Dollman (1991), and Omega Doom (1996). With Dolls, he weaves an interesting concoction, giving this particular cabal of toys enough menace to match their magic. While his characters might suffer a bit from being a bit too predictable here and there, I think it’s safe to conclude that not even he took much of this with any degree of seriousness, crafting it all under the rubric of being a fairy tale … if not one of the darkest and deadliest fairy tales of them all.
Ultimately, it isn’t all that difficult to “see the seams” (as they say) that keeps the film tied together and churning effectively forward. Although Judy’s childlike eyes always search for the innocence in things, we learn in the film’s opening that not even she is above some dark thoughts when she imagines dear old dad and his new wife being ripped to shreds by an oversized teddy bear. (Of course, she’s suitably reprimanded for such thoughts.) Prone to an overactive imagination (and probably due for a few therapy lessons herself), Judy still maintains throughout the picture what Hollywood types might call a Spielbergian charm – big eyes, flushed cheeks, deliciously photogenic, and more than a healthy dose of winning precociousness. Where she and her soon bleeding costars inevitably take Dolls – with its various stabbings, scratchings, draggings, gougings, piercings, dismemberings, smashings, and the like – is probably more aptly described as ‘Dirty Spielberg.’
Dolls (1986) was produced by Empire Pictures and Taryn Productions, Inc. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the sights and sounds to what’s reported as an all-new 2K restoration from the original interpositive to be exceptionally good. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts an incredible three different audio commentaries (one specially recorded for this release) along with a new interview (with editor Lee Percy), a fabulous making-of documentary, and the usual fodder like photo galleries, storyboards, and theatrical trailers. Arrow Films rarely (if ever) disappoints, and there’s plenty here to keep fans interested for quite some time.
Highly recommended.
Though the film vacillates between Horror and Fantasy, I think the narrative formula propelling Dolls from start-to-finish is quite good. It might have a storytelling blemish here and there that could’ve been handled with greater aplomb (the opening Teddy bit is a clumsy insertion, and a particular kill sequence could’ve been handled with better reveal), but because all of it feels like its descended from a child’s cautionary fairy tale I found it hard to pick apart even the smallest scab. There’s enough magic in here – both dark and light – to give one ample opportunity to credibly suspend disbelief and be swept off into a place where the impossible happens time and time again … even as the closing scenes prepare you for what could’ve easily been a theatrical follow-up that likely still lives on in our imagination.
After all, dolls never die.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary screening copy of Dolls (1986) as part of their Enter The Video Store: Empire Of Screams Collection for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Dolls (1986) was produced by Empire Pictures and Taryn Productions, Inc. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the sights and sounds to what’s reported as an all-new 2K restoration from the original interpositive to be exceptionally good. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts an incredible three different audio commentaries (one specially recorded for this release) along with a new interview (with editor Lee Percy), a fabulous making-of documentary, and the usual fodder like photo galleries, storyboards, and theatrical trailers. Arrow Films rarely (if ever) disappoints, and there’s plenty here to keep fans interested for quite some time.
Highly recommended.
Though the film vacillates between Horror and Fantasy, I think the narrative formula propelling Dolls from start-to-finish is quite good. It might have a storytelling blemish here and there that could’ve been handled with greater aplomb (the opening Teddy bit is a clumsy insertion, and a particular kill sequence could’ve been handled with better reveal), but because all of it feels like its descended from a child’s cautionary fairy tale I found it hard to pick apart even the smallest scab. There’s enough magic in here – both dark and light – to give one ample opportunity to credibly suspend disbelief and be swept off into a place where the impossible happens time and time again … even as the closing scenes prepare you for what could’ve easily been a theatrical follow-up that likely still lives on in our imagination.
After all, dolls never die.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary screening copy of Dolls (1986) as part of their Enter The Video Store: Empire Of Screams Collection 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
For those of you who’ve never heard (or read) me admitting this, then here it is: I already know that I do tend to be very, very, very hard on films.
Yes, yes, and yes. I’m very aware that this criticism has been levied against yours truly. Honestly, none of you who’ve let it slip in this space or in emails to SciFiHistory.Net were even among the very first to chastise me in such a way. Over the years, many friends and a few family members have remarked on and off about my tastes, preferences, and cinematic nihilism. The only defense I’ve ever mustered against such an onslaught is to say, simply, that – like all of you – I know what I like, and I like what I know. When I see it, I champion it, and I’m unashamed to admit to liking a whole library of releases chiefly because they achieve something on a level that I can appreciate. That’s all I look for in any picture, and I’ve long ago realized that it’s best for me to let that sleeping dog lie.
Hate me if you must, but I’ll always remain true to my word.
If there is any subset of pictures that I have gone a bit easy on in my decades of writing about films, then it would easily and most arguably be genre entries – SciFi, Horror, and Fantasy – that all lean a bit heavily with an emphasis on Fantasy. Pure Horror? Well, what can I say? It rarely scares me. Hard Science Fiction – as much as it pains you to read this – kinda/sorta leaves me a bit cold more often than not, often void of what I see as an authentic human voice with which to spin the tale. Call it schmaltz – call it camp – call it cheese – but, whatever you call it, I’m usually willing to give it a free pass critically so long as it doesn’t corrupt the intrinsic nature of the longer story. It has to work for this world as constructed, and I’m OK with that.
All of this brings me to the flick that kinda/sorta served as one giant blemish on the career of Hollywood juggernaut Kevin Costner: 1995’s Waterworld was deluged with some of the wickedest criticism imaginable upon its original theatrical release. (I can assure you that it was, kids, as I was there, reading each and every bit of it along the way.) Some of it? Well, OK, some of it was legitimate. Some of it was little more than piling on, as folks in the trade publications even back then tended to like chirping when they saw what they perceived as a total catastrophe. Still, I’d argue that – as about as pure a genre film through and through that’s ever been made – Waterworld never deserved the measure of disdain it was given at the time, and I’m using this post today to try to set things right with the humblest explanation I can offer.
(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 …)
Yes, yes, and yes. I’m very aware that this criticism has been levied against yours truly. Honestly, none of you who’ve let it slip in this space or in emails to SciFiHistory.Net were even among the very first to chastise me in such a way. Over the years, many friends and a few family members have remarked on and off about my tastes, preferences, and cinematic nihilism. The only defense I’ve ever mustered against such an onslaught is to say, simply, that – like all of you – I know what I like, and I like what I know. When I see it, I champion it, and I’m unashamed to admit to liking a whole library of releases chiefly because they achieve something on a level that I can appreciate. That’s all I look for in any picture, and I’ve long ago realized that it’s best for me to let that sleeping dog lie.
Hate me if you must, but I’ll always remain true to my word.
If there is any subset of pictures that I have gone a bit easy on in my decades of writing about films, then it would easily and most arguably be genre entries – SciFi, Horror, and Fantasy – that all lean a bit heavily with an emphasis on Fantasy. Pure Horror? Well, what can I say? It rarely scares me. Hard Science Fiction – as much as it pains you to read this – kinda/sorta leaves me a bit cold more often than not, often void of what I see as an authentic human voice with which to spin the tale. Call it schmaltz – call it camp – call it cheese – but, whatever you call it, I’m usually willing to give it a free pass critically so long as it doesn’t corrupt the intrinsic nature of the longer story. It has to work for this world as constructed, and I’m OK with that.
All of this brings me to the flick that kinda/sorta served as one giant blemish on the career of Hollywood juggernaut Kevin Costner: 1995’s Waterworld was deluged with some of the wickedest criticism imaginable upon its original theatrical release. (I can assure you that it was, kids, as I was there, reading each and every bit of it along the way.) Some of it? Well, OK, some of it was legitimate. Some of it was little more than piling on, as folks in the trade publications even back then tended to like chirping when they saw what they perceived as a total catastrophe. Still, I’d argue that – as about as pure a genre film through and through that’s ever been made – Waterworld never deserved the measure of disdain it was given at the time, and I’m using this post today to try to set things right with the humblest explanation I can offer.
(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:
“In a future where the polar ice-caps have melted and Earth is almost entirely submerged, a mutated mariner fights starvation and outlaw ‘smokers,’ and reluctantly helps a women and a young girl try to find dry land.”
Flights of fancy were rarely – if ever – meant to change the world. While they might have been conceived by authors or filmmakers intending to deliver some message of hope or progress, the common denominator to all of those projects is that – first and foremost – they meant to entertain. Educating an audience is admirable, but Fantasy as a narrative construct heavily implies that none of this is real anyway, and that’s why I think serious storytellers tend to avoid using it as a tool for social change.
So … anyone arguing that Waterworld is – first and foremost – a film preaching about an impending climate disaster is sadly mistaken.
In fact, all the Kevin Reynolds-directed film does is use the mechanics of the polar icecaps melting as a device with which to create this particular universe. It is a world of endless water. Our planet has apparently become one big ocean from sea to shining sea. Nothing else in the script – from the players, the circumstances, or the predicament – comments on our world-at-large in any substantive way. Even an environmental disaster linked to the 1989 Exxon Valdez oil tanker is largely the stuff of comic effect here, and I challenge anyone who thinks its inclusion here was meant to inspire global action to put-up-or-shut-up. Yes, there may be the sporadic quips in the screenplay that might produce either a bit of thought on our part leading to a modest reflection on the current state of affairs, but at this point in the fictional universe absolutely nothing can be done to reverse mankind’s fate, nor is there any promise that this dire fate awaits each of us if we ignore the prognostications.
In the same way that the Mad Max series of motion pictures what was left of our world well after the Apocalypse was waged (and lost), Waterworld simply sets these people and their events in a context and concludes, “OK, you folks who are left can have at it!”
“In a future where the polar ice-caps have melted and Earth is almost entirely submerged, a mutated mariner fights starvation and outlaw ‘smokers,’ and reluctantly helps a women and a young girl try to find dry land.”
Flights of fancy were rarely – if ever – meant to change the world. While they might have been conceived by authors or filmmakers intending to deliver some message of hope or progress, the common denominator to all of those projects is that – first and foremost – they meant to entertain. Educating an audience is admirable, but Fantasy as a narrative construct heavily implies that none of this is real anyway, and that’s why I think serious storytellers tend to avoid using it as a tool for social change.
So … anyone arguing that Waterworld is – first and foremost – a film preaching about an impending climate disaster is sadly mistaken.
In fact, all the Kevin Reynolds-directed film does is use the mechanics of the polar icecaps melting as a device with which to create this particular universe. It is a world of endless water. Our planet has apparently become one big ocean from sea to shining sea. Nothing else in the script – from the players, the circumstances, or the predicament – comments on our world-at-large in any substantive way. Even an environmental disaster linked to the 1989 Exxon Valdez oil tanker is largely the stuff of comic effect here, and I challenge anyone who thinks its inclusion here was meant to inspire global action to put-up-or-shut-up. Yes, there may be the sporadic quips in the screenplay that might produce either a bit of thought on our part leading to a modest reflection on the current state of affairs, but at this point in the fictional universe absolutely nothing can be done to reverse mankind’s fate, nor is there any promise that this dire fate awaits each of us if we ignore the prognostications.
In the same way that the Mad Max series of motion pictures what was left of our world well after the Apocalypse was waged (and lost), Waterworld simply sets these people and their events in a context and concludes, “OK, you folks who are left can have at it!”
Like Mel Gibson’s Max puts the pedal to the metal in that franchise, Kevin Costner’s ‘Mariner’ does the same. He’s his own man … well, fish … erm … fishman? Manfish? (Aw, hell, you decide!) Part-man, part-fish, but with enough toxic masculinity to fuel Armageddon, Mariner opens his film with an elaborate scene of a manfish/fishman on the high seas, with an incredible wide shot all closing in on Costner urinating and, then, drinking his own piss. (Yes, you read that right.) With that subtext, I think it’s safe to assume that we’re truly set for a wild ride, and – on that front – I’ve always thought that Waterworld delivered. And, no, it wasn’t all wet.
The script is credited to Peter Rader (who maintains an incredibly slim IMDB.com resume given the pedigree one would expect for a Costner vehicle) and David Twohy. Twohy – for those who’ve never heard the name – has long been affiliated with Science Fiction and Fantasy, having penned scripts for such properties as Warlock (1989), The Arrival (1996), and all the stuff that is the cinematic Riddick universe. My suspicion here is that, perhaps, Rader’s first draft was likely reworked by Twohy – though I could be wrong – as I think his background certainly suggests the experience necessary to give Waterworld its foundation. Whatever the case may be and regardless of whose contributions belong to whom, the flick was clearly meant to be a visual spectacle of good versus evil on the high seas of tomorrow and not some Hollywood message picture rolled out during awards season.
But … at this point in his professional career, Costner and his star potential had lost a good deal of its luster.
Indeed, Waterworld is a pretty far cry from the director’s 1990 pinnacle: Dances With Wolves clearly elevated his status about as high as it could go in all of Tinseltown, and – only half a decade later – it was still the stuff of legend upon which the actor and those who followed him were likely banking their success upon. After Wolves, Costner headlined the summer blockbuster Robin Hood: Prince Of Thieves (1991), and even that was released the same year as the critically-lauded JFK that came out under the stewardship of director Oliver Stone. In 1992, the actor joined hands with no less than superstar Whitney Houston aboard The Bodyguard, an action/romance that continues to find fans decades after its initial release. To be fair, there were a few other features in there, but – in my humble opinion – none of these releases prepared the world of Hollywood to embrace Costner as an emerging star in the world of … Science Fiction?
If you’re reading this, then perhaps we can agree on one thing? You – like me – are a fan of SciFi. You’re tantalized by the good and the bad of it. Hollywood and all of its members most decidedly are not fans of SciFi. It’s an inferior species of film. It’s a cheap light show meant to entertain lesser people. This doesn’t mean that it can’t be well made because even the industry craftsmen and women deserve to have work and a chance for acclaim; but these projects are still considered beneath the scope of serious actors and actresses. No one – and I do mean no one in Hollywood – is clamoring for the chance to be rendered blue in James Cameron’s next Avatar travelogue, and this is because it’s just something they wouldn’t be caught dead in.
The script is credited to Peter Rader (who maintains an incredibly slim IMDB.com resume given the pedigree one would expect for a Costner vehicle) and David Twohy. Twohy – for those who’ve never heard the name – has long been affiliated with Science Fiction and Fantasy, having penned scripts for such properties as Warlock (1989), The Arrival (1996), and all the stuff that is the cinematic Riddick universe. My suspicion here is that, perhaps, Rader’s first draft was likely reworked by Twohy – though I could be wrong – as I think his background certainly suggests the experience necessary to give Waterworld its foundation. Whatever the case may be and regardless of whose contributions belong to whom, the flick was clearly meant to be a visual spectacle of good versus evil on the high seas of tomorrow and not some Hollywood message picture rolled out during awards season.
But … at this point in his professional career, Costner and his star potential had lost a good deal of its luster.
Indeed, Waterworld is a pretty far cry from the director’s 1990 pinnacle: Dances With Wolves clearly elevated his status about as high as it could go in all of Tinseltown, and – only half a decade later – it was still the stuff of legend upon which the actor and those who followed him were likely banking their success upon. After Wolves, Costner headlined the summer blockbuster Robin Hood: Prince Of Thieves (1991), and even that was released the same year as the critically-lauded JFK that came out under the stewardship of director Oliver Stone. In 1992, the actor joined hands with no less than superstar Whitney Houston aboard The Bodyguard, an action/romance that continues to find fans decades after its initial release. To be fair, there were a few other features in there, but – in my humble opinion – none of these releases prepared the world of Hollywood to embrace Costner as an emerging star in the world of … Science Fiction?
If you’re reading this, then perhaps we can agree on one thing? You – like me – are a fan of SciFi. You’re tantalized by the good and the bad of it. Hollywood and all of its members most decidedly are not fans of SciFi. It’s an inferior species of film. It’s a cheap light show meant to entertain lesser people. This doesn’t mean that it can’t be well made because even the industry craftsmen and women deserve to have work and a chance for acclaim; but these projects are still considered beneath the scope of serious actors and actresses. No one – and I do mean no one in Hollywood – is clamoring for the chance to be rendered blue in James Cameron’s next Avatar travelogue, and this is because it’s just something they wouldn’t be caught dead in.
Now … imagine seeing one of their own – i.e. Kevin Costner – so willingly jumping the shark (literally) into a genre long considered by them a professional taboo?
This couldn’t succeed. This film – this Waterworld – couldn’t become the norm. Otherwise, each and every one of them might run the risk of having to sacrifice their pride and careers in some like-minded picture. Keep in mind that industry veterans are always on the lookout for the next big craze – Star Wars launched a trend in the late 1970’s – and what if Costner’s vanity project did the same? Was Sandworld just waiting to be greenlit? What about Fireworld? What about Treeworld, Grassworld, and Gasworld? All of these would require big name talent – those who had achieved the cultural acclaim that Costner had – so, as one might imagine, this couldn’t happen. Not at any cost.
So … Hollywood circled the wagons.
Rather than defend one of its own – rather than see the merits in a formulaic adventure yarn headlined by an A-List talent – they saw blood in the water. (Yes, pun intended.) It wasn’t enough to merely destroy Waterworld’s chance at launching a new franchise; they needed this picture to fade away into the dustbin of film history as a colossal commercial failure. If it had any fans, then they were to be laughed at and ostracized, much like those who claim to see UFOs or experience abductions or hear the voice of God. Any who supported Waterworld would be the subject of ridicule, and – thus – the film opened to a dismal box office with almost zero prospects that it would gain its sea legs over time.
Of course, I can’t prove any of this; and I offer it up to you – humble readers – entirely of my own opinion. I would encourage those of you who like history to go back and read some of the trade reports into the film – to go back and even watch video reviews of that era on YouTube.com and elsewhere. If you’re watching closely, then you might see – in small ways, perhaps none too obvious – an entire group of people secretly hoping to tank the picture, to tell you that it isn’t worth your time and attention. While I’m not here to defend Waterworld’s every scene – having watched it several times, I assure you that there are sequences that should’ve been trimmed as well as plenty of unanswered questions about just how this place really works logically – but it’s a far, far cry from worst thing ever committed to film.
Waterworld (1995) was produced by Universal Pictures, Gordon Company, Davis Entertainment, and Licht/Mueller Film Corporation. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights and sounds to this Ultra HD 4K rendering were exceptionally inviting. As for the special features? Well – to be blunt – there’s nothing new here as all have been essentially ported over from earlier releases of the film; so fans interested in those specifics are encouraged to scour the net as those insights are already out there.
Highly recommended.
Sorry, folks, but I’ve never had an issue with admitting that I’m a fan of Waterworld. I’ll admit that it ain’t Shakespeare. I’ll even concede that it’s far from Kevin Costner’s best work. Hell, I’ll even grant you that – because it’s entirely formulaic, about as much as a genre project can be – it isn’t going to be for everyone. But for those of us who appreciate this kind of world-building along with the commitment to seeing something through despite a veritable ocean of reported obstacles (snicker snicker), it works just fine. Warts and all.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary screening copy of Waterworld (1995) Ultra HD 4K Blu-ray 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
This couldn’t succeed. This film – this Waterworld – couldn’t become the norm. Otherwise, each and every one of them might run the risk of having to sacrifice their pride and careers in some like-minded picture. Keep in mind that industry veterans are always on the lookout for the next big craze – Star Wars launched a trend in the late 1970’s – and what if Costner’s vanity project did the same? Was Sandworld just waiting to be greenlit? What about Fireworld? What about Treeworld, Grassworld, and Gasworld? All of these would require big name talent – those who had achieved the cultural acclaim that Costner had – so, as one might imagine, this couldn’t happen. Not at any cost.
So … Hollywood circled the wagons.
Rather than defend one of its own – rather than see the merits in a formulaic adventure yarn headlined by an A-List talent – they saw blood in the water. (Yes, pun intended.) It wasn’t enough to merely destroy Waterworld’s chance at launching a new franchise; they needed this picture to fade away into the dustbin of film history as a colossal commercial failure. If it had any fans, then they were to be laughed at and ostracized, much like those who claim to see UFOs or experience abductions or hear the voice of God. Any who supported Waterworld would be the subject of ridicule, and – thus – the film opened to a dismal box office with almost zero prospects that it would gain its sea legs over time.
Of course, I can’t prove any of this; and I offer it up to you – humble readers – entirely of my own opinion. I would encourage those of you who like history to go back and read some of the trade reports into the film – to go back and even watch video reviews of that era on YouTube.com and elsewhere. If you’re watching closely, then you might see – in small ways, perhaps none too obvious – an entire group of people secretly hoping to tank the picture, to tell you that it isn’t worth your time and attention. While I’m not here to defend Waterworld’s every scene – having watched it several times, I assure you that there are sequences that should’ve been trimmed as well as plenty of unanswered questions about just how this place really works logically – but it’s a far, far cry from worst thing ever committed to film.
Waterworld (1995) was produced by Universal Pictures, Gordon Company, Davis Entertainment, and Licht/Mueller Film Corporation. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights and sounds to this Ultra HD 4K rendering were exceptionally inviting. As for the special features? Well – to be blunt – there’s nothing new here as all have been essentially ported over from earlier releases of the film; so fans interested in those specifics are encouraged to scour the net as those insights are already out there.
Highly recommended.
Sorry, folks, but I’ve never had an issue with admitting that I’m a fan of Waterworld. I’ll admit that it ain’t Shakespeare. I’ll even concede that it’s far from Kevin Costner’s best work. Hell, I’ll even grant you that – because it’s entirely formulaic, about as much as a genre project can be – it isn’t going to be for everyone. But for those of us who appreciate this kind of world-building along with the commitment to seeing something through despite a veritable ocean of reported obstacles (snicker snicker), it works just fine. Warts and all.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary screening copy of Waterworld (1995) Ultra HD 4K Blu-ray 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 often remind readers, many of the actors and actresses I feature in my Daily Citation pages aren't exactly well known as genre talent; but they've made an appearance here and there that I believe warrants their inclusion to SciFiHistory.Net. Not every smiler has the good fortune to be cast as a Captain Kirk much less a Barbarella, so I've learned to be thankful for big and small things along the way in this journey we call life.
In fact, one might have to do a bit of a deep dive into the past of Treat Williams to find a few footprints he made along the way, and -- sadly -- that's what I'm here for this morning.
Though it might be the stuff of legends in some corners of the Web-O-Sphere, Williams' contribution to the wider Star Wars mythology was not all that significant. He appeared as an uncredited Rebel soldier aboard Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back (1980) and has rather famously (in some circles) shared pictures of this very brief stint for all to see.
In 1987, he paid a visit to TV's Fairie Tale Theatre for good measure.
In 1988, he shared the screen with comedian Joe Piscopo in Dead Heat, a Horror/Comedy from the good people at New World Pictures.
In 1992, he stopped in for a thrill and a chill to an installment of HBO's Tales From The Crypt.
Then -- in 1996 -- he stepped deep into the wells of theatrical Fantasy with a big role: in the guise of Xander Drax, he was the face of evil squaring off against none other than The Phantom. Though I found the feature a bit undercooked, I did like the obvious good vs. evil chemistry Williams shared with the heroic lead Billy Zane.
1998 saw the man taking to the high seas in pursuit of adventure with more than a smidgen of Horror: Deep Rising cast Williams as John Finnegan, an oceanic highjacker who does battle against some deep sea creatures.
In 1999, the man headlined a television miniseries adaptation of Jules Verne's Adventure/Classic Journey To The Center Of The Earth for Hallmark Entertainment. While perhaps the effort isn't as memorable as all had hoped, it did score a 2000 Saturn Award nomination in the category of 'Best Single Genre Television Presentation.'
In 2001? "Snakes ... why did it have to be snakes?" Williams found himself under attack from some dangerous snakes released upon mankind by some unforeseen seismic activity in Venomous from genre director Fred Olen Ray.
Though there might be a few more, what's left does lean heavily toward more conventional fare, and I think I'll leave it at that. If nothing else, what I've listed certainly demonstrates that the man never shied away from the worlds of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror; and I think his resume -- well over one hundred different screen roles -- shows that fans hoping to relive what goodness he leaves behind will not find slim pickings when they begin their search.
As it's been said, none of us lasts forever, and word reached us yesterday that the man was involved in a motorcycle accident that cut his days short in a tragic end.
Our deepest sympathies are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Treat Williams. May he rest in peace.
-- EZ
In fact, one might have to do a bit of a deep dive into the past of Treat Williams to find a few footprints he made along the way, and -- sadly -- that's what I'm here for this morning.
Though it might be the stuff of legends in some corners of the Web-O-Sphere, Williams' contribution to the wider Star Wars mythology was not all that significant. He appeared as an uncredited Rebel soldier aboard Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back (1980) and has rather famously (in some circles) shared pictures of this very brief stint for all to see.
In 1987, he paid a visit to TV's Fairie Tale Theatre for good measure.
In 1988, he shared the screen with comedian Joe Piscopo in Dead Heat, a Horror/Comedy from the good people at New World Pictures.
In 1992, he stopped in for a thrill and a chill to an installment of HBO's Tales From The Crypt.
Then -- in 1996 -- he stepped deep into the wells of theatrical Fantasy with a big role: in the guise of Xander Drax, he was the face of evil squaring off against none other than The Phantom. Though I found the feature a bit undercooked, I did like the obvious good vs. evil chemistry Williams shared with the heroic lead Billy Zane.
1998 saw the man taking to the high seas in pursuit of adventure with more than a smidgen of Horror: Deep Rising cast Williams as John Finnegan, an oceanic highjacker who does battle against some deep sea creatures.
In 1999, the man headlined a television miniseries adaptation of Jules Verne's Adventure/Classic Journey To The Center Of The Earth for Hallmark Entertainment. While perhaps the effort isn't as memorable as all had hoped, it did score a 2000 Saturn Award nomination in the category of 'Best Single Genre Television Presentation.'
In 2001? "Snakes ... why did it have to be snakes?" Williams found himself under attack from some dangerous snakes released upon mankind by some unforeseen seismic activity in Venomous from genre director Fred Olen Ray.
Though there might be a few more, what's left does lean heavily toward more conventional fare, and I think I'll leave it at that. If nothing else, what I've listed certainly demonstrates that the man never shied away from the worlds of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror; and I think his resume -- well over one hundred different screen roles -- shows that fans hoping to relive what goodness he leaves behind will not find slim pickings when they begin their search.
As it's been said, none of us lasts forever, and word reached us yesterday that the man was involved in a motorcycle accident that cut his days short in a tragic end.
Our deepest sympathies are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Treat Williams. May he rest in peace.
-- EZ
- Published on
How revelatory must a film truly be to include the director’s name above the picture’s title?
I suppose the answer will always be, “That depends on the director.” You catch my meaning? Different directors do tend to conjure up different impressions. For example, I can’t imagine that there are crowds of anxious movie-goers lined up anticipating Woody Allen’s Dracula except, maybe, the Hollywood elitists. Granted, the kids might hungrily pour out in droves and droves for Michael Bay’s Dracula. Maybe you could interest most of middle-class America to pony up their ten bucks a-seat for Steven Spielberg’s Dracula. Such is life in the big city.
For those who know the name Dario Argento, I’d imagine Argento’s Dracula might have particular significance. Indeed, Argento has a fan-base of impressive proportions amongst cinema aficionados and horror buffs, but, outside of those two groups, is he a household name? I’d hardly think so. That was probably a question that producers were asking in late 2013 when this film was released merely as Dracula 3D; it largely went unattended in the marketplace, which caused them to eventually drop the whole three-D thing and just emphasize the ‘Argento’ in the new DVD release.
What a pain in the neck …
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last three paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Asia Argento stars in horror legend Dario Argento’s sexy spin on the classic tale about the sharp-toothed count who craves human blood.”
Jonathan Harker (played by Unax Ugalde) is summoned to the castle of the Count Dracula (an impressive Thomas Kretschmann) where he’s to begin work as the resident librarian, cataloguing all of his employer’s expansive book collection. However, once Harker seems to have vanished, his lovely wife Mina (a pleasingly attractive Marta Gastini) follows in his footsteps, seeking to uncover the truth of her love’s disappearance. Before all is said and done, she’ll require the services of Abraham Van Helsing (the ever-reliable Rutger Hauer) to bring about an end to a vile agreement between Dracula and the townspeople he’s duped into collective subservience.
As of yet, I haven’t read Bram Stoker’s classic novel (it’s on my bucket list), so I couldn’t say how faithful Argento’s Dracula remains to ‘Stoker’s Dracula.’ I can say that the story certainly feels as if some minor effort went into capturing this tale as an effective but low-budget period production, not that there’s anything wrong with so much obviousness. Everything “looks” old age, but, by that same barometer, everyone “looks” like they’re acting, too. To my admittedly untrained eyes, Argento’s work is staged and photographed far too passively to evoke the legitimately lurid sensibilities only effectively hinted at in a few key scenes; and, sadly, there’s just an awful lot of theatrical bloat to this affair.
I suppose the answer will always be, “That depends on the director.” You catch my meaning? Different directors do tend to conjure up different impressions. For example, I can’t imagine that there are crowds of anxious movie-goers lined up anticipating Woody Allen’s Dracula except, maybe, the Hollywood elitists. Granted, the kids might hungrily pour out in droves and droves for Michael Bay’s Dracula. Maybe you could interest most of middle-class America to pony up their ten bucks a-seat for Steven Spielberg’s Dracula. Such is life in the big city.
For those who know the name Dario Argento, I’d imagine Argento’s Dracula might have particular significance. Indeed, Argento has a fan-base of impressive proportions amongst cinema aficionados and horror buffs, but, outside of those two groups, is he a household name? I’d hardly think so. That was probably a question that producers were asking in late 2013 when this film was released merely as Dracula 3D; it largely went unattended in the marketplace, which caused them to eventually drop the whole three-D thing and just emphasize the ‘Argento’ in the new DVD release.
What a pain in the neck …
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last three paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Asia Argento stars in horror legend Dario Argento’s sexy spin on the classic tale about the sharp-toothed count who craves human blood.”
Jonathan Harker (played by Unax Ugalde) is summoned to the castle of the Count Dracula (an impressive Thomas Kretschmann) where he’s to begin work as the resident librarian, cataloguing all of his employer’s expansive book collection. However, once Harker seems to have vanished, his lovely wife Mina (a pleasingly attractive Marta Gastini) follows in his footsteps, seeking to uncover the truth of her love’s disappearance. Before all is said and done, she’ll require the services of Abraham Van Helsing (the ever-reliable Rutger Hauer) to bring about an end to a vile agreement between Dracula and the townspeople he’s duped into collective subservience.
As of yet, I haven’t read Bram Stoker’s classic novel (it’s on my bucket list), so I couldn’t say how faithful Argento’s Dracula remains to ‘Stoker’s Dracula.’ I can say that the story certainly feels as if some minor effort went into capturing this tale as an effective but low-budget period production, not that there’s anything wrong with so much obviousness. Everything “looks” old age, but, by that same barometer, everyone “looks” like they’re acting, too. To my admittedly untrained eyes, Argento’s work is staged and photographed far too passively to evoke the legitimately lurid sensibilities only effectively hinted at in a few key scenes; and, sadly, there’s just an awful lot of theatrical bloat to this affair.
At nearly two hours, this version of the immortal bloodsucker is arguably thirty minutes too long.
There’s far too much set-up required in the tale as told, scripted by Argento and Antonio Tentori, Stefano Piani, and Enrique Cerezo (also listed as ‘producer’). Lucy (Asia Argento) goes about her life in the village, secretly consorting with the leader of the vampires, and her story could’ve easily been heavily truncated to balance out the flow of the first half. Also, there are a handful of scenes involving the locals that – while their inclusion might help establish a plot point here and there – don’t sufficiently add much depth to the overall narrative. In fact, by the time Van Helsing shows up to finally go ‘Grandpa Badass’ on everyone, I’d pretty much lost interest in everyone except Dracula … and it’s likely he isn’t long for this world anyway.
Despite all of these blemishes, Kretschmann (as the Count) turns in a nice main performance. His Dracula is charismatic in measured doses, fleshing out the ruler of the undead by giving him some emotional complexity. This, too, unfortunately doesn’t serve the entirety of the production as strongly as it should because everyone else seems to be mimicking his delivery; far too many lines of dialogue are whispered as if they have immeasurable, incalculable significance to everything, and the end result of which the melodrama gets muddled in favor of the dramatic posturing of the players.
Not good, Argento. Not good.
Argento’s Dracula (2013) (aka Dracula 3D) is produced by Enrique Cerezo Producciones Cinematograficas S.A., Film Export Group, and Les Films de l’Astre. DVD distribution is being handled by MPI Media Group as part of the IFC Midnight series. As for the technical specifications, the production has plenty of quality sights and sounds, but it’s all balanced out with some inexorably long takes; at 1:52:00, it feels at times closely to 5 hours … and that’s never a good thing. If it’s special features you want, then there’s an impressive behind-the-scenes documentary (1 hr.), a music video, and a few theatrical trailers: a nice package, indeed, but enough about the ladies … (snicker snicker)
Alas … only Modestly Recommended.
Meh. Argento purists (or is that ‘cultists’?) will probably be the only audience truly excited by this release. The rest of us? We’ll probably be left wondering what all the excitement is about. I can appreciate even a good vampire story, and Argento’s obvious affection for the source material shines through; but so much of this Dracula is down for the count. (Get it?) Argento’s signature non-blood-looking blood is everywhere – at one point looking like melted crayons while still at another like cheap wine – and the absolutely unnecessary (but appreciated!) emergence of ample bosoms can only sustain a man’s interest for so long. Worth a view, but probably only one.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at MPI Media Group and IFC Midnight provided me with an advance DVD copy of Argento’s Dracula 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
There’s far too much set-up required in the tale as told, scripted by Argento and Antonio Tentori, Stefano Piani, and Enrique Cerezo (also listed as ‘producer’). Lucy (Asia Argento) goes about her life in the village, secretly consorting with the leader of the vampires, and her story could’ve easily been heavily truncated to balance out the flow of the first half. Also, there are a handful of scenes involving the locals that – while their inclusion might help establish a plot point here and there – don’t sufficiently add much depth to the overall narrative. In fact, by the time Van Helsing shows up to finally go ‘Grandpa Badass’ on everyone, I’d pretty much lost interest in everyone except Dracula … and it’s likely he isn’t long for this world anyway.
Despite all of these blemishes, Kretschmann (as the Count) turns in a nice main performance. His Dracula is charismatic in measured doses, fleshing out the ruler of the undead by giving him some emotional complexity. This, too, unfortunately doesn’t serve the entirety of the production as strongly as it should because everyone else seems to be mimicking his delivery; far too many lines of dialogue are whispered as if they have immeasurable, incalculable significance to everything, and the end result of which the melodrama gets muddled in favor of the dramatic posturing of the players.
Not good, Argento. Not good.
Argento’s Dracula (2013) (aka Dracula 3D) is produced by Enrique Cerezo Producciones Cinematograficas S.A., Film Export Group, and Les Films de l’Astre. DVD distribution is being handled by MPI Media Group as part of the IFC Midnight series. As for the technical specifications, the production has plenty of quality sights and sounds, but it’s all balanced out with some inexorably long takes; at 1:52:00, it feels at times closely to 5 hours … and that’s never a good thing. If it’s special features you want, then there’s an impressive behind-the-scenes documentary (1 hr.), a music video, and a few theatrical trailers: a nice package, indeed, but enough about the ladies … (snicker snicker)
Alas … only Modestly Recommended.
Meh. Argento purists (or is that ‘cultists’?) will probably be the only audience truly excited by this release. The rest of us? We’ll probably be left wondering what all the excitement is about. I can appreciate even a good vampire story, and Argento’s obvious affection for the source material shines through; but so much of this Dracula is down for the count. (Get it?) Argento’s signature non-blood-looking blood is everywhere – at one point looking like melted crayons while still at another like cheap wine – and the absolutely unnecessary (but appreciated!) emergence of ample bosoms can only sustain a man’s interest for so long. Worth a view, but probably only one.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at MPI Media Group and IFC Midnight provided me with an advance DVD copy of Argento’s Dracula 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 mentioned from time-to-time, I do receive emails from interested readers of SciFiHistory.Net.
More often than not, these inquiries do pertain to some very specific subjects -- what's my opinion on X, do I have any 'insider news' about Y, and why haven't you done more coverage on topic Z -- and, in those cases, I do respond directly with as much substantive information as I can. Keeping in mind that -- as I've always tried to make clear -- I'm a one-man-operation, I just don't have the kind of time to commit to every single breaking news story and/or developing project out there in genre-related cyberspace. When the spirit moves me, I've been known to pass along important breaking news, but as there are so many other websites out there that already play that game, I do try to stick to a fairly narrow track in these MainPage posts.
Still, every now and then, I'll get a question that I'm not quite certain if the reader is being -- erm -- sarcastic and/or serious; and these queries usually involve me personally, not so much the site as a whole. Because it's a legitimate 'ask' and it's open-ended enough that I feel maybe -- just maybe -- it deserves a bit of space, I'll pen something here -- for the MainPage -- with hopes to clarifying who I am, what I do, and what readers can expect. As I said, I try to be clear every chance I'm given; but even I can't always anticipate the needs of a readership as it grows and changes.
So ...
Today's question was as to whether or not I review every film that I watch for SciFiHistory.Net, and the answer is no. No way. Honestly, I just couldn't. Here's why.
For starters: I watch a lot of stuff. TV. Movies. Regular broadcast stuff. Pay cable. The bottom line is that I wouldn't have enough time to review everything I watched.
Second: I don't only watch genre properties. Like many of you, I have interests that are indeed varied. Some days, I'm just not in the mood for something genre-specific, and I'll go with a more conventional drama or mystery. These things don't fit in this space -- within the rubrick of SciFiHistory.Net's parameters -- so I don't review them here. I may put a blurb up in my Instagram feed or even Twitter, but that's more for me and my friends to know about . It ain't germaine, as they say, to this little corner of the Webosphere.
Third: I do watch genre things that -- quite frankly -- I just have nothing to say over. Please understand that on top of viewing my own casual interests that I receive a good number of unsolicited requests from readers, distributors, directors, writers, producers, etc. Some weeks, I get many requests, while other weeks it might be a few. If I watch something that really makes no impact with me, then I reserve the freedom to decline a review because it would really accomplish nothing for me or the provider. And because I do always try to find something positive to say, what could I put down in ink if I failed to achieve that one little requirement? This is a way of being fair to readers, providers, and myself.
Lastly: there are rare occasions where I watch a film that requires a bit of time to truly sink in. Readers know that I look at messages in stories as well as I do performances; and sometimes a project might involve some meatier observations than just the usual fare. When that happens, I'll do like anyone might -- I'll take some time to think about the experience -- before committing something to writing and broadcasting it in this space. If a writer wanted me to think about his or her work of art, then I do feel obligated to try to honor that spirit ... especially when the finished product deserves a bit of extra reflection.
Though I'm not one for rules -- certainly not like some other websites I've worked with in my past -- this is the modest framework I employ in trying to keep SciFiHistory.Net on its own cutting edge ... and I hope this answers your question, faithful reader.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
More often than not, these inquiries do pertain to some very specific subjects -- what's my opinion on X, do I have any 'insider news' about Y, and why haven't you done more coverage on topic Z -- and, in those cases, I do respond directly with as much substantive information as I can. Keeping in mind that -- as I've always tried to make clear -- I'm a one-man-operation, I just don't have the kind of time to commit to every single breaking news story and/or developing project out there in genre-related cyberspace. When the spirit moves me, I've been known to pass along important breaking news, but as there are so many other websites out there that already play that game, I do try to stick to a fairly narrow track in these MainPage posts.
Still, every now and then, I'll get a question that I'm not quite certain if the reader is being -- erm -- sarcastic and/or serious; and these queries usually involve me personally, not so much the site as a whole. Because it's a legitimate 'ask' and it's open-ended enough that I feel maybe -- just maybe -- it deserves a bit of space, I'll pen something here -- for the MainPage -- with hopes to clarifying who I am, what I do, and what readers can expect. As I said, I try to be clear every chance I'm given; but even I can't always anticipate the needs of a readership as it grows and changes.
So ...
Today's question was as to whether or not I review every film that I watch for SciFiHistory.Net, and the answer is no. No way. Honestly, I just couldn't. Here's why.
For starters: I watch a lot of stuff. TV. Movies. Regular broadcast stuff. Pay cable. The bottom line is that I wouldn't have enough time to review everything I watched.
Second: I don't only watch genre properties. Like many of you, I have interests that are indeed varied. Some days, I'm just not in the mood for something genre-specific, and I'll go with a more conventional drama or mystery. These things don't fit in this space -- within the rubrick of SciFiHistory.Net's parameters -- so I don't review them here. I may put a blurb up in my Instagram feed or even Twitter, but that's more for me and my friends to know about . It ain't germaine, as they say, to this little corner of the Webosphere.
Third: I do watch genre things that -- quite frankly -- I just have nothing to say over. Please understand that on top of viewing my own casual interests that I receive a good number of unsolicited requests from readers, distributors, directors, writers, producers, etc. Some weeks, I get many requests, while other weeks it might be a few. If I watch something that really makes no impact with me, then I reserve the freedom to decline a review because it would really accomplish nothing for me or the provider. And because I do always try to find something positive to say, what could I put down in ink if I failed to achieve that one little requirement? This is a way of being fair to readers, providers, and myself.
Lastly: there are rare occasions where I watch a film that requires a bit of time to truly sink in. Readers know that I look at messages in stories as well as I do performances; and sometimes a project might involve some meatier observations than just the usual fare. When that happens, I'll do like anyone might -- I'll take some time to think about the experience -- before committing something to writing and broadcasting it in this space. If a writer wanted me to think about his or her work of art, then I do feel obligated to try to honor that spirit ... especially when the finished product deserves a bit of extra reflection.
Though I'm not one for rules -- certainly not like some other websites I've worked with in my past -- this is the modest framework I employ in trying to keep SciFiHistory.Net on its own cutting edge ... and I hope this answers your question, faithful reader.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Hey there, smilers, and Happy Monday, June 12, 2023!
I don't really toot my own horn probably as much as I should, but June 12th -- for all intents and purposes -- deserves a bit of extra attention. Back when I began trying to dish out the best SciFi, Fantasy, and Horror trivia for each individual day on the calendar, I had the modest goal of achieving a minimum of 50 items. I figured -- realistically -- between birthdays, movie releases, and TV broadcast airings -- along with anything else I could uncover in my research -- that 50 items was a great number to shoot for. Of course, I'd always go for more -- time permitting -- and I've stayed true to that goal. But it wasn't all that long when I started to notice that 100 separate items was, arguably, possible as a modified goal. It absolutely hasn't been easy -- that's for damn sure -- but on some occasions I've been more successful than others ... and today is one of those days.
Head on over to the page for June 12th, and you'll see what I mean. Yes, it's loaded with the usual, but it's all date-specific, meaning that these are the hallmarks I'd support celebrating on this day in the history of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
I don't really toot my own horn probably as much as I should, but June 12th -- for all intents and purposes -- deserves a bit of extra attention. Back when I began trying to dish out the best SciFi, Fantasy, and Horror trivia for each individual day on the calendar, I had the modest goal of achieving a minimum of 50 items. I figured -- realistically -- between birthdays, movie releases, and TV broadcast airings -- along with anything else I could uncover in my research -- that 50 items was a great number to shoot for. Of course, I'd always go for more -- time permitting -- and I've stayed true to that goal. But it wasn't all that long when I started to notice that 100 separate items was, arguably, possible as a modified goal. It absolutely hasn't been easy -- that's for damn sure -- but on some occasions I've been more successful than others ... and today is one of those days.
Head on over to the page for June 12th, and you'll see what I mean. Yes, it's loaded with the usual, but it's all date-specific, meaning that these are the hallmarks I'd support celebrating on this day in the history of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A demonic wizard challenges a modern-day computer programmer to a battle of technology vs. sorcery, with the programmer’s girlfriend as the prize.”
Sigh.
Even as a critic, I’ve no problem admitting that there are some films I truly want to like for what might be considered less-than-professional reasons.
Sometimes, a favorite star might be the draw. Other times, a director whose track record has been solid might lure me into an otherwise uninviting journey. Yes, I’ve even been smitten with what might be some very intriguing source material or the promise of a bigger-than-life adventure awaits just after the opening credits. And – like so many of you – I’ve learned my lesson from the disappointment of being so easily cajoled into risking some lowered expectations with a payoff that simply fell short.
Mostly, that’s all I can say about The Dungeonmaster, another entry into the catalogue of features that sprang from Empire Pictures, the bygone production outfit for genre legend Charles Band. Casting the mold of pitting old sorcery against technological magic of the modern era (well, the 1980’s modern era, to be frank), it all looked and sounded like something that genre fans might flock to. While I’ve no doubt that it probably maintained a respectable track record at any corner video store of the day, the film is still a bit of a narrative mess, never quite underscoring what it was all about, why this particular story needed telling, and what audiences were to ultimately make of it.
In fact, I’d once read a blurb somewhere – sorry, I honestly don’t recall when and where – that a cast member had gone on record saying that the only reason the feature was made was because (A) everyone involved had just wrapped production on another Band project, (B) they had some free time, and (C) enough creators had experience to script their own piece within the anthology structure. So … maybe we need to chalk this one up to the old adage, “Just because you can make a film doesn’t mean that you should make a film!”
Paul Bradford (played by Jeffrey Byron) is a master of computer tech, but he hasn’t quite found a balance between his professional and personal lives as his live-in girlfriend Gwen (Leslie Wing) can attest. Upon receiving his offer to tie the knot, she’s entirely unwilling because she refuses to play ‘second fiddle’ to his voice-activated artificial intelligence counterpart ‘Cal.’ But either by Cal’s design – or perhaps someone omniscient out there in the universe watching (the plot is never clear) – the dueling lovebirds are catapulting into a dark underworld where the evil wizard Mestema (a grimacing Richard Moll) decides to put them through one grueling trial after another, all with the hope that he’ll seize Gwen for his very own when Paul fails!
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A demonic wizard challenges a modern-day computer programmer to a battle of technology vs. sorcery, with the programmer’s girlfriend as the prize.”
Sigh.
Even as a critic, I’ve no problem admitting that there are some films I truly want to like for what might be considered less-than-professional reasons.
Sometimes, a favorite star might be the draw. Other times, a director whose track record has been solid might lure me into an otherwise uninviting journey. Yes, I’ve even been smitten with what might be some very intriguing source material or the promise of a bigger-than-life adventure awaits just after the opening credits. And – like so many of you – I’ve learned my lesson from the disappointment of being so easily cajoled into risking some lowered expectations with a payoff that simply fell short.
Mostly, that’s all I can say about The Dungeonmaster, another entry into the catalogue of features that sprang from Empire Pictures, the bygone production outfit for genre legend Charles Band. Casting the mold of pitting old sorcery against technological magic of the modern era (well, the 1980’s modern era, to be frank), it all looked and sounded like something that genre fans might flock to. While I’ve no doubt that it probably maintained a respectable track record at any corner video store of the day, the film is still a bit of a narrative mess, never quite underscoring what it was all about, why this particular story needed telling, and what audiences were to ultimately make of it.
In fact, I’d once read a blurb somewhere – sorry, I honestly don’t recall when and where – that a cast member had gone on record saying that the only reason the feature was made was because (A) everyone involved had just wrapped production on another Band project, (B) they had some free time, and (C) enough creators had experience to script their own piece within the anthology structure. So … maybe we need to chalk this one up to the old adage, “Just because you can make a film doesn’t mean that you should make a film!”
Paul Bradford (played by Jeffrey Byron) is a master of computer tech, but he hasn’t quite found a balance between his professional and personal lives as his live-in girlfriend Gwen (Leslie Wing) can attest. Upon receiving his offer to tie the knot, she’s entirely unwilling because she refuses to play ‘second fiddle’ to his voice-activated artificial intelligence counterpart ‘Cal.’ But either by Cal’s design – or perhaps someone omniscient out there in the universe watching (the plot is never clear) – the dueling lovebirds are catapulting into a dark underworld where the evil wizard Mestema (a grimacing Richard Moll) decides to put them through one grueling trial after another, all with the hope that he’ll seize Gwen for his very own when Paul fails!
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to predict that Paul doesn’t fail, and this is precisely why the contests go on and on and on. Sometimes, our couple join forces to best Mestema, while other times it’s just one or the other. Granted, there are a few situations wherein both of the leads are placed into some modest jeopardy, but the focus here remains mostly family-friendly, and that was a bit of a disappointment for this viewer. The back-and-forth between the forces of good and evil is all too predictable – if not often a bit tiresome – but love triumphs all (as you expected it might) in the final reel.
To their credit, Byron and Wing make Dungeonmaster as watchable as it is. Moll doesn’t turn in a bad performance, but it’s all pretty much the same thing, despite his growing frustration opposite the leading man and his computer savvy intelligence. Some of the practical effects work is quite good – Empire had a knack for creating some of the better monster gear of its day – and a sequence or two even have some downright winning cinematography. Unfortunately, the weaknesses are spread out across successive chapters in the anthology; and the end result is horrifically uneven.
The Dungeonmaster (aka Ragewar) (1984) was produced by Empire Pictures and Ragewar Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights and sounds to the presentation were very good to this reported all-new 2K remastering. Yes, yes, yes: a few sequences have some grain, but overall this picture looks and sounds just fine. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts an all-new commentary from actor Byron hosted by film critics Matty Budrewicz and Dave Wain; a separate interview with Byron (it’s quite good); the theatrical trailer; and an image gallery. Again, it’s another stellar assortment from the folks at Arrow Films.
Alas, this one’s only … Mildly Recommended … and, even then, mostly as a curiosity.
Having enjoyed a good number of films in the library of Charles Band from this era, I can assure you that The Dungeonmaster (1984) remains one of the most forgettable. Sadly, there’s really only the seed of a story there, and it never quite blossomed into the clever Fantasy flower that it could’ve been with a bit more care and attention. Performances and effects are occasionally interesting, but the connective pieces just weren’t strong enough – nor the tale’s foundation wide enough – to make this one worth all of the effort.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of The Dungeonmaster (1984) as part of their Enter The Video Store: Empire Of Screams Collection for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
To their credit, Byron and Wing make Dungeonmaster as watchable as it is. Moll doesn’t turn in a bad performance, but it’s all pretty much the same thing, despite his growing frustration opposite the leading man and his computer savvy intelligence. Some of the practical effects work is quite good – Empire had a knack for creating some of the better monster gear of its day – and a sequence or two even have some downright winning cinematography. Unfortunately, the weaknesses are spread out across successive chapters in the anthology; and the end result is horrifically uneven.
The Dungeonmaster (aka Ragewar) (1984) was produced by Empire Pictures and Ragewar Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights and sounds to the presentation were very good to this reported all-new 2K remastering. Yes, yes, yes: a few sequences have some grain, but overall this picture looks and sounds just fine. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts an all-new commentary from actor Byron hosted by film critics Matty Budrewicz and Dave Wain; a separate interview with Byron (it’s quite good); the theatrical trailer; and an image gallery. Again, it’s another stellar assortment from the folks at Arrow Films.
Alas, this one’s only … Mildly Recommended … and, even then, mostly as a curiosity.
Having enjoyed a good number of films in the library of Charles Band from this era, I can assure you that The Dungeonmaster (1984) remains one of the most forgettable. Sadly, there’s really only the seed of a story there, and it never quite blossomed into the clever Fantasy flower that it could’ve been with a bit more care and attention. Performances and effects are occasionally interesting, but the connective pieces just weren’t strong enough – nor the tale’s foundation wide enough – to make this one worth all of the effort.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of The Dungeonmaster (1984) as part of their Enter The Video Store: Empire Of Screams Collection 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
I’ve always thought it more than a bit unfair when critics and general film aficionados dismiss the library of Empire Films as exploitation.
Simply put, that’s just plain inaccurate. While the films of Charles Band and his merry band of co-conspirators might occasionally capture the elements of a more traditional exploitation picture, the productions more often than not go in an entirely different thematic direction. There’s more to their stories – and there’s a lot more to most of the pictures’ various performances – than what draws the crowds to something built of action, boobs, and blood; and for far too long I think these efforts have suffered from being so casually dismissed as lesser, direct-to-video fare. Just because a breast is bared doesn’t make it gratuitous, and just because a monster chows on a severed foot doesn’t make it thematically unnecessary. (Yeah, I said what I said, and I’m not sorry.) Despite that defense, I’ll happily concede that some of the projects that didn’t quite echo with audiences have probably been relegated to the exploitation sub-genre because, frankly, they just might not fit in any other category.
Take Cellar Dweller (1987) as today’s example. At first blush, the pic could easily be assigned to Horror (which is its central track), but the truly gruesome moments one expects are both fairly slim and reasonably well spaced out across its 80-something minutes; this means that Horror buffs might be a bit disappointed that there’s so little monster action. While the script boasts a seminal mystery – along with the race to uncover the source of the killings – there isn’t enough of that to make it a proper whodunnit. And the Fantasy theme? Well, again, it’s only used as a construct – as a plot device – so some in the audience might object to calling it that as well.
I suppose – in the final estimation – this uneven amalgamation of ideas and elements might be why it’s as much a cult classic as to why it didn’t quite find mainstream appeal: little too little, little too late.
But there is that very, very, very cool monster to talk about.
(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 comic book artist Whitney Taylor is doomed to repeat history in a most grotesque way when she unleashes a demon after drawing it.”
Monster movies have always fascinated me but probably not for the reason readers expect.
Sure, I’ll admit to getting jazzed about a critter that’s large, menacing, and bares more teeth in one growl that a great white shark does in multiple movies. And, yes, it’s pretty spiffy to watch the thing lumber about, shaking its mighty chest with every screech or swiping its razor-sharp claws across human flesh. And, of course, I get the willies when the thing runs down some unsuspecting victim, picks him or her up over their head, and brutally tears them into multiple pieces thrown about the scene. I am only human, after all, so all of that is wonderful.
But what I like most is the journey of the creature.
Simply put, that’s just plain inaccurate. While the films of Charles Band and his merry band of co-conspirators might occasionally capture the elements of a more traditional exploitation picture, the productions more often than not go in an entirely different thematic direction. There’s more to their stories – and there’s a lot more to most of the pictures’ various performances – than what draws the crowds to something built of action, boobs, and blood; and for far too long I think these efforts have suffered from being so casually dismissed as lesser, direct-to-video fare. Just because a breast is bared doesn’t make it gratuitous, and just because a monster chows on a severed foot doesn’t make it thematically unnecessary. (Yeah, I said what I said, and I’m not sorry.) Despite that defense, I’ll happily concede that some of the projects that didn’t quite echo with audiences have probably been relegated to the exploitation sub-genre because, frankly, they just might not fit in any other category.
Take Cellar Dweller (1987) as today’s example. At first blush, the pic could easily be assigned to Horror (which is its central track), but the truly gruesome moments one expects are both fairly slim and reasonably well spaced out across its 80-something minutes; this means that Horror buffs might be a bit disappointed that there’s so little monster action. While the script boasts a seminal mystery – along with the race to uncover the source of the killings – there isn’t enough of that to make it a proper whodunnit. And the Fantasy theme? Well, again, it’s only used as a construct – as a plot device – so some in the audience might object to calling it that as well.
I suppose – in the final estimation – this uneven amalgamation of ideas and elements might be why it’s as much a cult classic as to why it didn’t quite find mainstream appeal: little too little, little too late.
But there is that very, very, very cool monster to talk about.
(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 comic book artist Whitney Taylor is doomed to repeat history in a most grotesque way when she unleashes a demon after drawing it.”
Monster movies have always fascinated me but probably not for the reason readers expect.
Sure, I’ll admit to getting jazzed about a critter that’s large, menacing, and bares more teeth in one growl that a great white shark does in multiple movies. And, yes, it’s pretty spiffy to watch the thing lumber about, shaking its mighty chest with every screech or swiping its razor-sharp claws across human flesh. And, of course, I get the willies when the thing runs down some unsuspecting victim, picks him or her up over their head, and brutally tears them into multiple pieces thrown about the scene. I am only human, after all, so all of that is wonderful.
But what I like most is the journey of the creature.
In most cases, these monsters never asked to be born much less to be the recipient of so much fear and hate. They’re just going about their business, looking for their next meal, trying to make ends meet no different than each of us, and then some band of delicious humans stumble into existence, meaning the “monster” has to be a “monster” yet again. Honestly, that isn’t so much the case with Cellar Dweller as the central Dweller is apparently summoned into existence once and again by some very dark arts (pun intended), but this is still the framework upon which I try to evaluate this type of film. It just gives me a point to begin dissecting the action well before the behemoth starts dissecting the idiots.
In that regard, Dweller fails as a flick because there just isn’t quite enough to the monster’s arc. In fact, we’re really given very little about him/her/it/they in the script from screenwriter Don Mancini. Director John Carl Buechler does what he can to keep the frames spooling, but the characters inserted just don’t have any real connection (or connective tissue with one another) to make this whole affair rise even to the level of a respectable B-Movie. Attempts are made, yes, but they’re just not fetching enough to set the simple premise in motion. Beyond the magical beast, there’s nothing to see here.
Furthermore, the cast is never given enough background to make an audience authentically root for their survival.
While Debrah Farentino makes for a ‘lovely to look at lead,’ her Whitney Taylor never appears passionate enough to any of her ascribed hobbies and/or desires to make me care. The script suggests that she’s long been curious about the legend of what truly happened to the deceased Colin Childress, but she treats so much of her time at the art institute as just another day, just another step on her career. Similarly, the other gathered artists never quite display much interest in their respective sculpting, painting, dancing, etc., and I found it hard to accept that this cultural commune produced performers of any major standing or quality. The late Yvonne De Carlo (of The Munsters fame) turns in some nice moments, but her stern taskmaster fails to muster any real menace, instead coming off as some old eccentric fuddy-duddy who’s fortunate to have been given the job and title in the first place.
Cellar Dweller (1987) was produced by Empire Pictures and Dove Corporation Ltd. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good people at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights-and-sounds to this restoration effort by Arrow to be – well – only pretty good. I noticed an awful lot of grain in quite a few spots; though the creature sequences were all surprisingly crisp, some of the lesser, fill-in scenes – character stuff, mostly – just seemed flat and colorless. I’m not sure, but I suspect this is likely part of an inferior source material.
Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts an all-new commentary by make-up artist Michael Deak hosted by critics Matty Budrewicz and Dave Wain; a very informative documentary short exploring the films and career of director Buechler; a separate filmed interview with the aforementioned Deak; and the usual notes, galleries, and trailers typical to this sort of release. As usual, Arrow never disappoints; while the casual film fan might not spend as much time here, I think the diehards are going to be thrilled.
Alas, this one is only Mildly Recommended.
Other than some rather solid creature effects work, there just isn’t all that much in the basement of Cellar Dweller to get all that excited about. It’s a story we’ve seen done before – with creatures magically conjured up out of the imagination to do harm to whoever it crosses paths with – and the performances are all a bit too lukewarm to generate enough heat to get all of this truly percolating. The great Jeffrey Combs is wasted in a set-up performance that, honestly, could’ve been anyone; and Debrah Farentino’s character needed a bit more substance to rise to the level of an authentic scream queen here. But – yes – the Cellar Dweller is, indeed, something to look at.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of Cellar Dweller (1987) as part of their Enter The Video Store: Empire Of Screams Collection for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
In that regard, Dweller fails as a flick because there just isn’t quite enough to the monster’s arc. In fact, we’re really given very little about him/her/it/they in the script from screenwriter Don Mancini. Director John Carl Buechler does what he can to keep the frames spooling, but the characters inserted just don’t have any real connection (or connective tissue with one another) to make this whole affair rise even to the level of a respectable B-Movie. Attempts are made, yes, but they’re just not fetching enough to set the simple premise in motion. Beyond the magical beast, there’s nothing to see here.
Furthermore, the cast is never given enough background to make an audience authentically root for their survival.
While Debrah Farentino makes for a ‘lovely to look at lead,’ her Whitney Taylor never appears passionate enough to any of her ascribed hobbies and/or desires to make me care. The script suggests that she’s long been curious about the legend of what truly happened to the deceased Colin Childress, but she treats so much of her time at the art institute as just another day, just another step on her career. Similarly, the other gathered artists never quite display much interest in their respective sculpting, painting, dancing, etc., and I found it hard to accept that this cultural commune produced performers of any major standing or quality. The late Yvonne De Carlo (of The Munsters fame) turns in some nice moments, but her stern taskmaster fails to muster any real menace, instead coming off as some old eccentric fuddy-duddy who’s fortunate to have been given the job and title in the first place.
Cellar Dweller (1987) was produced by Empire Pictures and Dove Corporation Ltd. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good people at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights-and-sounds to this restoration effort by Arrow to be – well – only pretty good. I noticed an awful lot of grain in quite a few spots; though the creature sequences were all surprisingly crisp, some of the lesser, fill-in scenes – character stuff, mostly – just seemed flat and colorless. I’m not sure, but I suspect this is likely part of an inferior source material.
Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts an all-new commentary by make-up artist Michael Deak hosted by critics Matty Budrewicz and Dave Wain; a very informative documentary short exploring the films and career of director Buechler; a separate filmed interview with the aforementioned Deak; and the usual notes, galleries, and trailers typical to this sort of release. As usual, Arrow never disappoints; while the casual film fan might not spend as much time here, I think the diehards are going to be thrilled.
Alas, this one is only Mildly Recommended.
Other than some rather solid creature effects work, there just isn’t all that much in the basement of Cellar Dweller to get all that excited about. It’s a story we’ve seen done before – with creatures magically conjured up out of the imagination to do harm to whoever it crosses paths with – and the performances are all a bit too lukewarm to generate enough heat to get all of this truly percolating. The great Jeffrey Combs is wasted in a set-up performance that, honestly, could’ve been anyone; and Debrah Farentino’s character needed a bit more substance to rise to the level of an authentic scream queen here. But – yes – the Cellar Dweller is, indeed, something to look at.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of Cellar Dweller (1987) as part of their Enter The Video Store: Empire Of Screams Collection 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 XIII.
Today’s viewing: another late 1950’s noir-lite potboiler that goes by the name of The Night Runner. Credited to writers Owen Cameron and Gene Levitt, the film was directed by Abner Biberman. It stars Ray Danton, Colleen Miller, Merry Anders, Willis Bouchey, and Harry Jackson in major 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:
“A mental patient with a violent past is released from the institution, against the advice of his doctors, and sent back to his old neighborhood. Realizing that he can’t handle the pressures of big-city life, and not wanting to commit the kinds of crimes that got him put away in the first place, he hops a bus heading out of the city and winds up in a small coastal town. Taking a room in a small motel, he falls for the daughter of the motel’s owner, and everything seems to be going well for him, until the girl’s father starts to get suspicious about his past.”
Once again, I find myself asking the seminal question: “When is a film noir not a film noir?”
To a great degree, I’ve always believed that the characters best representative of this unique sub-genre of the traditional film thriller are always in charge of their actions. This means that – while what they experience may or may not be directly attributable to steps that they might make along the way – they’re mostly in control of their fate because they choose poorly. Some of them are pure evil – that’s just how they were built – and some of them come to evil as a necessary response to their environment and other cultural or social influences. But – in the final regard – they exercise free will and make a bad or ultimately flawed decision directly as a consequence of who they’ve become.
So … I have to point out that 1957’s The Night Runner presents a bit of difficulty for me, mostly because I liked so many of its performances.
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 XIII.
Today’s viewing: another late 1950’s noir-lite potboiler that goes by the name of The Night Runner. Credited to writers Owen Cameron and Gene Levitt, the film was directed by Abner Biberman. It stars Ray Danton, Colleen Miller, Merry Anders, Willis Bouchey, and Harry Jackson in major 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:
“A mental patient with a violent past is released from the institution, against the advice of his doctors, and sent back to his old neighborhood. Realizing that he can’t handle the pressures of big-city life, and not wanting to commit the kinds of crimes that got him put away in the first place, he hops a bus heading out of the city and winds up in a small coastal town. Taking a room in a small motel, he falls for the daughter of the motel’s owner, and everything seems to be going well for him, until the girl’s father starts to get suspicious about his past.”
Once again, I find myself asking the seminal question: “When is a film noir not a film noir?”
To a great degree, I’ve always believed that the characters best representative of this unique sub-genre of the traditional film thriller are always in charge of their actions. This means that – while what they experience may or may not be directly attributable to steps that they might make along the way – they’re mostly in control of their fate because they choose poorly. Some of them are pure evil – that’s just how they were built – and some of them come to evil as a necessary response to their environment and other cultural or social influences. But – in the final regard – they exercise free will and make a bad or ultimately flawed decision directly as a consequence of who they’ve become.
So … I have to point out that 1957’s The Night Runner presents a bit of difficulty for me, mostly because I liked so many of its performances.
In fact, Ray Danton – in the guise of Runner’s psychologically broken Roy Turner – truly lifts the project up in leading man style and carries a great deal of the flick’s emotional weight by giving a deliberately uneven portrait of a man who quite can’t function in normal much less abnormal conditions. He isn’t the hulking and muscular con men who make up so much of the noir catalogue; his Turner is just a regular guy who’s been broken down by society and has decided that maybe – just maybe – getting back up ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. He tries to acclimate himself back into civilization, but we see him struggling, so much so that – like in a monster movie – we’re just waiting for him to snap. It’s a slow burn, for sure, but it’s a very good rendering of a mind in conflict.
Also, the fetching Colleen Miller manages to squeeze a good degree of small-town sex appeal into the otherwise bland Susan Mayes. Never pining for a life that got away or an existence in the big city, she’s contented with being a small fish in a small pond – well, big ocean, anyway – and it’s easy for audiences to imagine that she’s happy growing old in a menial, unimportant job while taking care of dear ol’ dad (Willis Bouchey). Never one to complain, these days just might be the best she ever gets, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.
Where I struggle with Runner even being considered as a noir is the fact that if Ray is truly mentally incapable of making the right decision, then how can we fault him for continuing to break down? Granted, some might see this as splitting hairs or making a mountain out of a molehill; I’ll admit that it might seem insignificant, but if the man is so catastrophically hard-wired to resort to murder when his stressors are sufficiently triggered, then his desire to remain behind bars (or, at least, in the mental hospital from the beginning) was his best impulse. Society refused it, so … who’s really to blame here? Ray? Or the ones who threw him carelessly to the four winds?
The Night Runner (1957) was produced by Universal International 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 thought the sights and sounds to his reported brand new 2K remastering were very, very good. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts a commentary track from author Lee Gambin and Dr. Eloise Ross along with the theatrical trailer.
Recommended, but …
As I tried to be clear above, The Night Runner is a very good film. It has a good story along with a measure of socially conscious messaging about both how society treats some innocent victims as well as what causes them to potentially snap as a result. The acting is quite good, though maybe a bit ham-handed and/or simple in a few spots. But, overall, where I struggle with its noir elements is I never saw our lead even remotely in control of the choices he made given his pronounced mental state. Some might dismiss this as a kinda/sorta chicken/egg conundrum, and yet I still expect my noirs to show me broken people making broken decisions of their own accord. Call me old-fashioned, if you must, but maybe that’s just how I’m wired.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary The Night Runner (1957) – as part of their Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema XIII 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
Also, the fetching Colleen Miller manages to squeeze a good degree of small-town sex appeal into the otherwise bland Susan Mayes. Never pining for a life that got away or an existence in the big city, she’s contented with being a small fish in a small pond – well, big ocean, anyway – and it’s easy for audiences to imagine that she’s happy growing old in a menial, unimportant job while taking care of dear ol’ dad (Willis Bouchey). Never one to complain, these days just might be the best she ever gets, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.
Where I struggle with Runner even being considered as a noir is the fact that if Ray is truly mentally incapable of making the right decision, then how can we fault him for continuing to break down? Granted, some might see this as splitting hairs or making a mountain out of a molehill; I’ll admit that it might seem insignificant, but if the man is so catastrophically hard-wired to resort to murder when his stressors are sufficiently triggered, then his desire to remain behind bars (or, at least, in the mental hospital from the beginning) was his best impulse. Society refused it, so … who’s really to blame here? Ray? Or the ones who threw him carelessly to the four winds?
The Night Runner (1957) was produced by Universal International 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 thought the sights and sounds to his reported brand new 2K remastering were very, very good. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts a commentary track from author Lee Gambin and Dr. Eloise Ross along with the theatrical trailer.
Recommended, but …
As I tried to be clear above, The Night Runner is a very good film. It has a good story along with a measure of socially conscious messaging about both how society treats some innocent victims as well as what causes them to potentially snap as a result. The acting is quite good, though maybe a bit ham-handed and/or simple in a few spots. But, overall, where I struggle with its noir elements is I never saw our lead even remotely in control of the choices he made given his pronounced mental state. Some might dismiss this as a kinda/sorta chicken/egg conundrum, and yet I still expect my noirs to show me broken people making broken decisions of their own accord. Call me old-fashioned, if you must, but maybe that’s just how I’m wired.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary The Night Runner (1957) – as part of their Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema XIII 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
There are films that attain an almost mythic reputation for a whole lot of reasons.
For example, some films experienced almost legendary problems in the shooting stage, and the resulting reportage in newspapers, magazines, and/or television interviews of the cast and crew work like gasoline poured onto a raging fire. Their snippets almost demand that audiences flock to the theatres upon the project’s release so that they can witness something barely clinging to life. Other productions benefit from costars always being at one another’s throat, suggesting that the filmed performances alone might be worth a single watch, and viewers can’t resist a good love/hate spiral captured on celluloid. It’s also been suggested through the years that savvy publicists and/or studio marketing people have created similar tales – webs spun out of pure fantasy – and whispered them to journalists in the hopes that such tawdry gossip might elevate a B-Movie to A-Picture box office, but I think that tactic has probably been tried more than it’s ever proven fruitful.
And … then there’s Empire Picture’s Arena.
While the studio that genre auteur Charles Band built might not exactly be a household name, there are those of us – me included – who not so much worship its output as we revere what they represent for a certain time and a certain place in film history. A great deal of the catalogue gets (wrongly) dismissed as exploitation; though some of the features might share elements with that classification, Empire’s titles really only resorted to such pure outright gimmickry on a few occasions. I always saw these as pictures with solid ideas at their core, and maybe – just maybe – they used a bit of visual sauce – like exploitation – to add some flavor, some taste, some publicity tease, if you will. Even storytellers have to have a hook, and Band was a master and not only hooking audiences but reeling them in – along with investors – when the opportunity presented itself. As the producer and the head of a studio, such was his job, and despite how it ended up he knew what he was doing.
Well … up to a point, I suppose, he knew what he was doing.
In any event, Arena has long been spoken about by fans of B-Movies as the film that finally broke Empire’s back. Without going into any great detail, I’d argue that the statement is both true and false (Empire’s fate was likely sealed for some time at that point), and veering off in that direction would take me away from a true review of the film at hand. So for now let’s focus on Arena – the good, the bad, and the ugly – and leave all that Empire talk for another fight.
(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 human becomes an unlikely rising star in the biggest fighting tournament in the galaxy that’s dominated by alien species.”
For example, some films experienced almost legendary problems in the shooting stage, and the resulting reportage in newspapers, magazines, and/or television interviews of the cast and crew work like gasoline poured onto a raging fire. Their snippets almost demand that audiences flock to the theatres upon the project’s release so that they can witness something barely clinging to life. Other productions benefit from costars always being at one another’s throat, suggesting that the filmed performances alone might be worth a single watch, and viewers can’t resist a good love/hate spiral captured on celluloid. It’s also been suggested through the years that savvy publicists and/or studio marketing people have created similar tales – webs spun out of pure fantasy – and whispered them to journalists in the hopes that such tawdry gossip might elevate a B-Movie to A-Picture box office, but I think that tactic has probably been tried more than it’s ever proven fruitful.
And … then there’s Empire Picture’s Arena.
While the studio that genre auteur Charles Band built might not exactly be a household name, there are those of us – me included – who not so much worship its output as we revere what they represent for a certain time and a certain place in film history. A great deal of the catalogue gets (wrongly) dismissed as exploitation; though some of the features might share elements with that classification, Empire’s titles really only resorted to such pure outright gimmickry on a few occasions. I always saw these as pictures with solid ideas at their core, and maybe – just maybe – they used a bit of visual sauce – like exploitation – to add some flavor, some taste, some publicity tease, if you will. Even storytellers have to have a hook, and Band was a master and not only hooking audiences but reeling them in – along with investors – when the opportunity presented itself. As the producer and the head of a studio, such was his job, and despite how it ended up he knew what he was doing.
Well … up to a point, I suppose, he knew what he was doing.
In any event, Arena has long been spoken about by fans of B-Movies as the film that finally broke Empire’s back. Without going into any great detail, I’d argue that the statement is both true and false (Empire’s fate was likely sealed for some time at that point), and veering off in that direction would take me away from a true review of the film at hand. So for now let’s focus on Arena – the good, the bad, and the ugly – and leave all that Empire talk for another fight.
(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 human becomes an unlikely rising star in the biggest fighting tournament in the galaxy that’s dominated by alien species.”
I think the best and worst thing that can be said about Arena – by all accounts – is that it works very much like a live-action cartoon.
In fact, anyone who grew up with some of the more interesting efforts of the late 1980’s and early 1990’s might very well see some of what fills the silver screen in Arena’s central arena resembles the critters, crawlers, and creatures of some pretty famed animation. These center ring rumblers – part-boxers, part-wrestlers – looked like they had been pulled right from toons, and – despite some functional weaknesses in bringing such puppetry to life – they worked well enough to convince audiences of their realism. These were (thankfully!) practical creations – not CGI, not an amalgamation of cleverly placed pixels – and, thus, they breathed life the way only practical creations can. (In case you missed it, then yes I’m very much a fan of practical effects work. Always have been. Always will be.)
Therein lies the biggest secret to Arena’s ineffable magic: producer Band, director Peter Manoogian, and a crew of small and big screen effects veterans went to great lengths to assemble the masks, bodies, and other required pieces to a great many alien species needed to bring the future to life. Today, this kind of thing is done in post-production, often at great expense, but – if I dare say so myself – it doesn’t seem nearly as vibrant as do some of these oversized puppets. Things that can both touch and be touched just resonate more strongly visually – the brain can always recognize what’s fake on some level, and I’ll take that opinion to my grave – and the viewer is robbed of any authentic suspense. That’s not the case here … and I say that full well knowing that it’s all cartoon anyway!
This is why Arena works, both for the young and still for those like me: the young-at-heart.
Conceptually, the story is little more than something one might call ‘Space Rocky’ or ‘Alien Fight Club.’ Steve Armstrong (played by Paul Satterfield) – a name that also could’ve been plucked from any number of animated properties – is pining for a return to Earth. Life in space is hard, you know, and Armstrong’s only been existing from one dead-end job to the next. After he stands up to defend a fellow outcast Shorty (a convincing Hamilton Camp) from an alien bully, he inadvertently gets them both fired from their jobs. At the end of their rope – and needing money to free Shorty from the clutches of the nefarious gaming boss Rogor (Marc Alaimo) – the good-hearted young man does the only thing he knows he can do, vying to put his fighting skills to good use in the star station’s arena.
As any fight film would do, Arena makes great use of putting Armstrong in the center ring; but what makes Arena a Charles Band film is that these are not your ordinary opponents. They’re giant bugs. They’re lumbering monsters. They’re bionic aliens. Though it might sound a bit ridiculous (and look equally ludicrous at times), it’s all handled as if this were the cultural norm – this is the future, after all – and the technology of the day is magically employed to make the fights ‘fair.’ Granted, none of the exchanges could go head-to-head with the footage of your average Rocky flick, but what’s ultimately rendered works very well thematically with what Manoogian accomplished here.
In fact, anyone who grew up with some of the more interesting efforts of the late 1980’s and early 1990’s might very well see some of what fills the silver screen in Arena’s central arena resembles the critters, crawlers, and creatures of some pretty famed animation. These center ring rumblers – part-boxers, part-wrestlers – looked like they had been pulled right from toons, and – despite some functional weaknesses in bringing such puppetry to life – they worked well enough to convince audiences of their realism. These were (thankfully!) practical creations – not CGI, not an amalgamation of cleverly placed pixels – and, thus, they breathed life the way only practical creations can. (In case you missed it, then yes I’m very much a fan of practical effects work. Always have been. Always will be.)
Therein lies the biggest secret to Arena’s ineffable magic: producer Band, director Peter Manoogian, and a crew of small and big screen effects veterans went to great lengths to assemble the masks, bodies, and other required pieces to a great many alien species needed to bring the future to life. Today, this kind of thing is done in post-production, often at great expense, but – if I dare say so myself – it doesn’t seem nearly as vibrant as do some of these oversized puppets. Things that can both touch and be touched just resonate more strongly visually – the brain can always recognize what’s fake on some level, and I’ll take that opinion to my grave – and the viewer is robbed of any authentic suspense. That’s not the case here … and I say that full well knowing that it’s all cartoon anyway!
This is why Arena works, both for the young and still for those like me: the young-at-heart.
Conceptually, the story is little more than something one might call ‘Space Rocky’ or ‘Alien Fight Club.’ Steve Armstrong (played by Paul Satterfield) – a name that also could’ve been plucked from any number of animated properties – is pining for a return to Earth. Life in space is hard, you know, and Armstrong’s only been existing from one dead-end job to the next. After he stands up to defend a fellow outcast Shorty (a convincing Hamilton Camp) from an alien bully, he inadvertently gets them both fired from their jobs. At the end of their rope – and needing money to free Shorty from the clutches of the nefarious gaming boss Rogor (Marc Alaimo) – the good-hearted young man does the only thing he knows he can do, vying to put his fighting skills to good use in the star station’s arena.
As any fight film would do, Arena makes great use of putting Armstrong in the center ring; but what makes Arena a Charles Band film is that these are not your ordinary opponents. They’re giant bugs. They’re lumbering monsters. They’re bionic aliens. Though it might sound a bit ridiculous (and look equally ludicrous at times), it’s all handled as if this were the cultural norm – this is the future, after all – and the technology of the day is magically employed to make the fights ‘fair.’ Granted, none of the exchanges could go head-to-head with the footage of your average Rocky flick, but what’s ultimately rendered works very well thematically with what Manoogian accomplished here.
But not only is Arena a very good ‘turn off your brain’ fun film, it boasts a cast rich with genre regulars, a few of them only years before they would find some breakout recognition. Hollywood funnyman Jack Carter appears in the flick as the space station’s call-by-numbers announcer. Armin Shimerman – who would go on to a fabulous career as the occasionally scheming Ferengi ‘Quark’ aboard Star Trek: Deep Space Nine – plays the part of a gangland enforcer named ‘Weezil,’ always looking and sounding the part perfectly. The aforementioned Alaimo also found recognition as a Cardassian warlord aboard Deep Space Nine, as well. And the lovely Claudia Christian – who’d go on to a solid run aboard the syndicated Babylon 5 – turns in great work as ‘Quinn,’ Armstrong’s fight manager and promoter who’ll stop at nothing to see him achieve the heights of success that she sees in him.
Arena (1989) was produced by Empire Pictures and Altar Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the sights and sounds to this reported new 2K remastering from the remaining 35mm elements was very good: there is a fair amount of grain in a few sequences, and the film opens with a qualifier explaining that one sequence (near the beginning) has flaws that they simply left in. As they say: “it is what it is.” Honestly, I didn’t think it was that bad.
Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? This is Arrow, and they rarely disappoint. The disc includes an all-new audio commentary featuring director Manoogian hosted by critics Matty Budrewicz and Dave Wain; an alternative full-frame presentation (a curious inclusion, if you ask me); interviews with screenwriter Danny Bilson (who strongly asserts having little to do with the flick as it’s his belief they didn’t shoot his script) and make-up effects wizard Michael Deak; and the usual image galleries and theatrical trailer. It’s a very good collection that should keep fans entertained for a little extra.
Recommended.
Though I think Arena (1989) has its own irrepressible B-Movie charm, there’s still no disguising the fact that it’s also a bit of a narrative mess. Like a boxer in the ring, the story jumps around a bit, bobbing and weaving close enough to the main thread that it manages to remain interesting if not entirely superficial. Performances are largely predicated on the somewhat ‘high camp’ of the relative situations, so much so that it’s easy to see why kids of the video store era (who discovered the title) probably remember it with fondness. Like a live action cartoon in spots, it feels like it was custom made for them … which is good as there’s so little depth to so very much of everything in here. Fun – most definitely – but a bit looney tunes as well.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of Arena (as part of their Enter The Video Store: Empire Of Screams Collection for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Arena (1989) was produced by Empire Pictures and Altar Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the sights and sounds to this reported new 2K remastering from the remaining 35mm elements was very good: there is a fair amount of grain in a few sequences, and the film opens with a qualifier explaining that one sequence (near the beginning) has flaws that they simply left in. As they say: “it is what it is.” Honestly, I didn’t think it was that bad.
Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? This is Arrow, and they rarely disappoint. The disc includes an all-new audio commentary featuring director Manoogian hosted by critics Matty Budrewicz and Dave Wain; an alternative full-frame presentation (a curious inclusion, if you ask me); interviews with screenwriter Danny Bilson (who strongly asserts having little to do with the flick as it’s his belief they didn’t shoot his script) and make-up effects wizard Michael Deak; and the usual image galleries and theatrical trailer. It’s a very good collection that should keep fans entertained for a little extra.
Recommended.
Though I think Arena (1989) has its own irrepressible B-Movie charm, there’s still no disguising the fact that it’s also a bit of a narrative mess. Like a boxer in the ring, the story jumps around a bit, bobbing and weaving close enough to the main thread that it manages to remain interesting if not entirely superficial. Performances are largely predicated on the somewhat ‘high camp’ of the relative situations, so much so that it’s easy to see why kids of the video store era (who discovered the title) probably remember it with fondness. Like a live action cartoon in spots, it feels like it was custom made for them … which is good as there’s so little depth to so very much of everything in here. Fun – most definitely – but a bit looney tunes as well.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of Arena (as part of their Enter The Video Store: Empire Of Screams Collection for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ