- 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:
“Five military veterans, best friends since childhood, gather together to support their troubled host, and the metaphoric ghosts of their past become all-too-literal.”
It’s been said that each of us – no matter who we are or where we come from – carries a measure of secrets through our respective lives and into our respective graves.
This isn’t meant to imply – in any way – that all of us have lived lives of ill repute. Rather, it’s just an acceptance that each of us only knows whatever good, bad, and ugly thoughts we might harbor in our heart of hearts. Hopes and dreams might help shape who we are; but there are things that occur none of us wish to remember so vividly that we’d share it again and again with those we meet on life’s journey. Not every secret need be so monumental that it leads to therapy, and not every undisclosed and unexplored passion need be so detrimental that it causes a life to collapse.
Still, there are times – especially when movers and shakers find themselves at a crossroads – that men and women have done things they regret, and some of the best screen and stage dramas have sought to explore the lengths to which ordinary people might seek extraordinary answers. This is the territory wherein Brooklyn 45 firmly posits itself: five friends are drawn together into a ‘locked box’ style mystery – not all that unlike to the better works of Agatha Christie – wherein agents of the supernatural are Hell bent to see bad deeds exposed – no matter the cost – and wrongs righted even at the expense of everyone’s immortal soul … if you believe in that sort of thing.
That’s what makes Brooklyn 45 so compelling.
Each of its character – the unwavering military officer, the faithful soldier, the civil servant, the master interrogator, etc. – have served purposes that have led them to conclude that that which exists on our side of the existential curtain is already enough to scare one silly. They’ve seen enough – they’ve experienced enough – that their world views have already been shaped, and they’re well enough on their way through life to accept reality as face value, to never question if there’s anything more to being. Packaging these perspectives against the backdrop of the supernatural wherein an entity they may or may not be familiar with seeks a rather dark outcome – the death of a woman who may or may not be innocent – is a fabulous foundation upon which to build a haunted house, and that’s exactly what writer/director Ted Geoghegan has done.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Five military veterans, best friends since childhood, gather together to support their troubled host, and the metaphoric ghosts of their past become all-too-literal.”
It’s been said that each of us – no matter who we are or where we come from – carries a measure of secrets through our respective lives and into our respective graves.
This isn’t meant to imply – in any way – that all of us have lived lives of ill repute. Rather, it’s just an acceptance that each of us only knows whatever good, bad, and ugly thoughts we might harbor in our heart of hearts. Hopes and dreams might help shape who we are; but there are things that occur none of us wish to remember so vividly that we’d share it again and again with those we meet on life’s journey. Not every secret need be so monumental that it leads to therapy, and not every undisclosed and unexplored passion need be so detrimental that it causes a life to collapse.
Still, there are times – especially when movers and shakers find themselves at a crossroads – that men and women have done things they regret, and some of the best screen and stage dramas have sought to explore the lengths to which ordinary people might seek extraordinary answers. This is the territory wherein Brooklyn 45 firmly posits itself: five friends are drawn together into a ‘locked box’ style mystery – not all that unlike to the better works of Agatha Christie – wherein agents of the supernatural are Hell bent to see bad deeds exposed – no matter the cost – and wrongs righted even at the expense of everyone’s immortal soul … if you believe in that sort of thing.
That’s what makes Brooklyn 45 so compelling.
Each of its character – the unwavering military officer, the faithful soldier, the civil servant, the master interrogator, etc. – have served purposes that have led them to conclude that that which exists on our side of the existential curtain is already enough to scare one silly. They’ve seen enough – they’ve experienced enough – that their world views have already been shaped, and they’re well enough on their way through life to accept reality as face value, to never question if there’s anything more to being. Packaging these perspectives against the backdrop of the supernatural wherein an entity they may or may not be familiar with seeks a rather dark outcome – the death of a woman who may or may not be innocent – is a fabulous foundation upon which to build a haunted house, and that’s exactly what writer/director Ted Geoghegan has done.
Part supernatural chiller and part character study, Brooklyn 45 – once its descent into the questions of existence begin – never relents. It never cheapens. It never falters. It never takes the easy way out. About the time when logic and reason rear their familiar faces, another twist has its cast fumbling with a new layer of doubt, and the journey begins anew again. Each time, we’re treated to a solution from another rational perspective, and – before you know it – chaos somehow returns and persists, reminding audiences that life – maybe even from the other side – always finds a way. (Cue the speech from Jeff Goldblum, if you will.) Intentional or not, Brooklyn’s players have made believers out of us even though they refuse to see what very well may be the blood-dripped writing on the proverbial, experiential wall.
In fact, my only parting disappointment with Brooklyn 45 was the way that the story kinda/sorta leaves me hanging in the last reel. The film spent so much quality time asking the significant questions – who are we, what happens after we’re gone, and several other perspectives all relating to the spiritual self – but it never really supplied an honest answer as it applies to the identity of the abducted Hilde. Was she a spy? Was she a killer? There were suggestions, but … ? Could she have been the cause of so much angst? And – even if she was – what harm did she truly achieve, if any? Leaving such a hook unanswered gives audiences the suggestion that, alas, we can never find ultimate truth, implying that maybe we’re best of accepting our current place in the universe.
If that’s the case, then why tell this story?
And … isn’t it more fun to always peek beyond the veil?
Brooklyn 45 (2023) was produced by Divide/Conquer, Hangar 18 Media, PurpleDOG, and a few other participants. (A full list can be found on IMDB.com, for those interested in that sort of detail.) A search of Google.com asserts that the film will be available via streaming on June 9, 2023. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I found the picture’s sights and sounds to be exceptional from start-to-finish. Lastly, as this was entirely a streaming experience for me, there are no special features to consider.
Highly recommended.
Brooklyn 45 (2023) is a fabulous ensemble piece that digs deep into not only identity politics and the questions of self but rather deftly introduces its Horror elements – albeit lightly – so seamlessly that I suspect many might not see them coming. Its narrative twists and turns likely make the viewer invest in the experience – maybe even be afraid to look away – for fear of missing something small, trivial, or otherwise insignificant that might prove its all little more than a bit of innocent stagecraft. Rest assured: it’s not, and – yes, yes, and yes – blood will be spilled before all is said and done. Sometimes grim but always vivid, this exceptional little drama deserves your undivided attention.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at writer/director Ted Geoghegan provided me with complimentary streaming access to view Brooklyn 45 (2023) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. His contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
In fact, my only parting disappointment with Brooklyn 45 was the way that the story kinda/sorta leaves me hanging in the last reel. The film spent so much quality time asking the significant questions – who are we, what happens after we’re gone, and several other perspectives all relating to the spiritual self – but it never really supplied an honest answer as it applies to the identity of the abducted Hilde. Was she a spy? Was she a killer? There were suggestions, but … ? Could she have been the cause of so much angst? And – even if she was – what harm did she truly achieve, if any? Leaving such a hook unanswered gives audiences the suggestion that, alas, we can never find ultimate truth, implying that maybe we’re best of accepting our current place in the universe.
If that’s the case, then why tell this story?
And … isn’t it more fun to always peek beyond the veil?
Brooklyn 45 (2023) was produced by Divide/Conquer, Hangar 18 Media, PurpleDOG, and a few other participants. (A full list can be found on IMDB.com, for those interested in that sort of detail.) A search of Google.com asserts that the film will be available via streaming on June 9, 2023. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I found the picture’s sights and sounds to be exceptional from start-to-finish. Lastly, as this was entirely a streaming experience for me, there are no special features to consider.
Highly recommended.
Brooklyn 45 (2023) is a fabulous ensemble piece that digs deep into not only identity politics and the questions of self but rather deftly introduces its Horror elements – albeit lightly – so seamlessly that I suspect many might not see them coming. Its narrative twists and turns likely make the viewer invest in the experience – maybe even be afraid to look away – for fear of missing something small, trivial, or otherwise insignificant that might prove its all little more than a bit of innocent stagecraft. Rest assured: it’s not, and – yes, yes, and yes – blood will be spilled before all is said and done. Sometimes grim but always vivid, this exceptional little drama deserves your undivided attention.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at writer/director Ted Geoghegan provided me with complimentary streaming access to view Brooklyn 45 (2023) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. His contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
Some of the very best B-Movies of all time came out of the 1980’s; and – for what it’s worth – it’s often been suggested that many of these emerged from Empire Pictures under the guiding hand and mind of genre master Charles Band.
For the record, I’ve never argued to the contrary on that point. Empire Pictures’ catalogue (as per their citation on IMDB.com) includes an incredible 71 different titles; and – while a deep dive might produce a stinker here or there – there are a solid handful or two of projects that were staples of the era credited to the explosion of home video. Heck, if you take a chance and read the bio of Band himself – 2021’s Confessions Of A Puppetmaster, Harper Collins reviewed here by yours truly – then you’d know that the talented writer and producer was literally at the forefront of making films available for home exhibition back in the day! As a consequence, he knew more than the average bear did about what accounted for a random project’s popularity, and he went about the business of delivering them – one after the other – for several fun-filled years.
Still, I won’t trouble readers with a dissection of Band’s entire library, mostly because what matters most today is 1989’s Robot Jox.
I first saw this one on home video back in the 1990’s, and it remains one of those rare flicks I can easily watch again (and have!) whenever I stumble on it playing in TV broadcast rotation or from streaming on Amazon.com. In fact, I think I rewatched it about six months ago specifically with the intent of penning a review for SciFiHistory.Net and just never got around to it. (Ah, the struggles of an everyday critic!) But when I received a copy from a distributor over the weekend in my mail, I knew there was no time like the present: I popped it in yesterday and was merrily transported back to yesteryear when giant battling robots set against a modest love story was definitely worth the price of a home rental.
Was it – quite possibly – Empire’s high point?
That debate will rage on so long as new fans flock to the studio’s output, and I, for one, hope the debate never ends.
(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 the distant future, mankind has forsaken global wars for battles of single combat. The world has been divided into two opposing superpowers, with each side represented by trained champions.”
I kid you not: the very first time I was asked my opinion of the film post viewing, I said, “It’s the best flick that Tom Cruise never made.”
What, pray tell, does that mean?
Back in the day, damn near each and every Tom Cruise movie had the exact same formula. Whatever character the talented actor inhabited was a young Turk. A rebel. A hotshot. However, as can happen when you’re the best of the best, you inevitably experience a fall from grace of some sort; and then the true character arc begins as Tom went about the “acting business” of finding himself anew against the backdrop of failure, doubt, and humility. Yes, of course, he’d rise again – like a Phoenix from the ashes – in each and every picture’s last reel, and this narrative journey was used over and over no matter if Cruise was flying jets, racing cars, playing hockey, or graduating high school. It functioned. Audiences related to it. And it meant box office gold.
Essentially, this is what you have with Robot Jox. In Cruise’s place, the talented Gary Graham steps in as hotshot robot jox/pilot codenamed Achilles; and the man very admirably chews scenery up until he experiences his own kinda/sorta plummet from on high (figuratively and literally, since these are 100-foot-tall robots) and then has to reinvent himself once it becomes crystal clear that the world just can’t go on without Achilles front-and-center. Of course, the formula is varied slightly, but the script by director Stuart Gordon and science fiction novelist Joe Haldeman stays true enough to its foundation that Jox emerges as one of the greatest B-Movie pictures of all time.
For the record, I’ve never argued to the contrary on that point. Empire Pictures’ catalogue (as per their citation on IMDB.com) includes an incredible 71 different titles; and – while a deep dive might produce a stinker here or there – there are a solid handful or two of projects that were staples of the era credited to the explosion of home video. Heck, if you take a chance and read the bio of Band himself – 2021’s Confessions Of A Puppetmaster, Harper Collins reviewed here by yours truly – then you’d know that the talented writer and producer was literally at the forefront of making films available for home exhibition back in the day! As a consequence, he knew more than the average bear did about what accounted for a random project’s popularity, and he went about the business of delivering them – one after the other – for several fun-filled years.
Still, I won’t trouble readers with a dissection of Band’s entire library, mostly because what matters most today is 1989’s Robot Jox.
I first saw this one on home video back in the 1990’s, and it remains one of those rare flicks I can easily watch again (and have!) whenever I stumble on it playing in TV broadcast rotation or from streaming on Amazon.com. In fact, I think I rewatched it about six months ago specifically with the intent of penning a review for SciFiHistory.Net and just never got around to it. (Ah, the struggles of an everyday critic!) But when I received a copy from a distributor over the weekend in my mail, I knew there was no time like the present: I popped it in yesterday and was merrily transported back to yesteryear when giant battling robots set against a modest love story was definitely worth the price of a home rental.
Was it – quite possibly – Empire’s high point?
That debate will rage on so long as new fans flock to the studio’s output, and I, for one, hope the debate never ends.
(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 the distant future, mankind has forsaken global wars for battles of single combat. The world has been divided into two opposing superpowers, with each side represented by trained champions.”
I kid you not: the very first time I was asked my opinion of the film post viewing, I said, “It’s the best flick that Tom Cruise never made.”
What, pray tell, does that mean?
Back in the day, damn near each and every Tom Cruise movie had the exact same formula. Whatever character the talented actor inhabited was a young Turk. A rebel. A hotshot. However, as can happen when you’re the best of the best, you inevitably experience a fall from grace of some sort; and then the true character arc begins as Tom went about the “acting business” of finding himself anew against the backdrop of failure, doubt, and humility. Yes, of course, he’d rise again – like a Phoenix from the ashes – in each and every picture’s last reel, and this narrative journey was used over and over no matter if Cruise was flying jets, racing cars, playing hockey, or graduating high school. It functioned. Audiences related to it. And it meant box office gold.
Essentially, this is what you have with Robot Jox. In Cruise’s place, the talented Gary Graham steps in as hotshot robot jox/pilot codenamed Achilles; and the man very admirably chews scenery up until he experiences his own kinda/sorta plummet from on high (figuratively and literally, since these are 100-foot-tall robots) and then has to reinvent himself once it becomes crystal clear that the world just can’t go on without Achilles front-and-center. Of course, the formula is varied slightly, but the script by director Stuart Gordon and science fiction novelist Joe Haldeman stays true enough to its foundation that Jox emerges as one of the greatest B-Movie pictures of all time.
Gordon had built a solid career in genre territory. He’s arguably better known for his somewhat darker forays – pictures like 1985’s Re-Animator and 1986’s From Beyond – that put him on the Hollywood map (as they say), and that impressive one-two punch definitely established his as a voice worth listening to. While I think it’s safe to suggest that he never quite reached the pinnacle of being a name known around the supper table, those of us who traffic in films of these slightly bygone eras know it very well. For what it’s worth, I’ve always believed Jox to be his best flick mostly because it’s vastly more relatable than most other subjects he explored, and its theme and message resonates more with a wider audience than his Horror features. In fact, the fact that he could handle something like Re-Animator and then only a few short years later deliver something as solidly mainstream as Jox shows that he was evolving artistically, figuring out how to use his skills in ways that continued breaking molds.
If I had to pick on any fault to Jox, then it’s rather easy to point a stiff finger at the curious closing scenes, a narrative weak point that never quite rings true. This is a near 90-minute feature that sounds very much like a Top Gun (1986) rip-off to many where good and evil are given definite faces if not political equivalency. (The Cold War was still raging, so it serves the film best to think of it as a U.S. versus Soviet robotic showdown.) Alexander (played by the late Paul Koslo), spends the bulk of his screen time bemoaning not only Achilles’ way of life but damn near the man’s very existence; but – in the last reel – they’re suddenly reduced to just … what? Fighting buddies? Reality doesn’t get so much obscured as it does ignored, all for the sake of an overly saccharin ‘Happy Ending,’ one that tries to convince audiences that everyone can just get along.
Having lived through that era, I can assure you the Soviet Union would’ve happily wiped out its global adversary if they’d found a way to do so militarily; so this Achilles/Alexander peace summit felt inadequate on so many levels. Even as a cinematic ‘rah rah’ moment, I just never believed it probable, so I’m not sure those sentiments truly won any converts in the audience.
Robot Jox (1989) was produced by Empire Pictures and Altar Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? According to the press materials (viewed online as I was only provided an official screening copy), this is an all-new 2K restoration done by Arrow from the original negative; because this thing was likely produced and shot reasonably quickly, there’s a reasonable amount of grain here and there, but – overall – I found the sights and sounds to be of pretty exceptional quality. (Again, I’m no trained video expert, but it worked just fine for me.)
Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? This is Arrow Films, and they rarely skimp on the extras. Fans have plenty to get excited about as the disc boasts not one but two (archival) audio commentaries; all-new video interviews with actors Gary Graham and Anne-Marie Johnson (both excellent) as well as an archival one with actor Paul Koslo; a fabulous retrospective on the film’s special effects; and a huge assortment of stills, notes, and the usual fodder including theatrical trailers. Again, it’s A-R-R-O-W, folks, so you won’t be disappointed. Take my word for it.
Highest recommendation possible.
Honestly, I’ve always loved Robot Jox since I first discovered it on VHS back in the early 1990’s. I’ve watched it a few times (via streaming) since, so I was nothing short of thrilled to finally make my opinion of this B-Movie Classic official in this space. Of course, its practical effects are dated – as are maybe its performances and ideas – but its magic is timeless, especially for those of us who appreciate smaller films precisely because they think big, work with what they have, and manage to deliver a measure of passion unmatched more often than not by big studio productions. A rare gem, even its imperfections are downright perfect.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary copy of Robot Jox (1989) 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
If I had to pick on any fault to Jox, then it’s rather easy to point a stiff finger at the curious closing scenes, a narrative weak point that never quite rings true. This is a near 90-minute feature that sounds very much like a Top Gun (1986) rip-off to many where good and evil are given definite faces if not political equivalency. (The Cold War was still raging, so it serves the film best to think of it as a U.S. versus Soviet robotic showdown.) Alexander (played by the late Paul Koslo), spends the bulk of his screen time bemoaning not only Achilles’ way of life but damn near the man’s very existence; but – in the last reel – they’re suddenly reduced to just … what? Fighting buddies? Reality doesn’t get so much obscured as it does ignored, all for the sake of an overly saccharin ‘Happy Ending,’ one that tries to convince audiences that everyone can just get along.
Having lived through that era, I can assure you the Soviet Union would’ve happily wiped out its global adversary if they’d found a way to do so militarily; so this Achilles/Alexander peace summit felt inadequate on so many levels. Even as a cinematic ‘rah rah’ moment, I just never believed it probable, so I’m not sure those sentiments truly won any converts in the audience.
Robot Jox (1989) was produced by Empire Pictures and Altar Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? According to the press materials (viewed online as I was only provided an official screening copy), this is an all-new 2K restoration done by Arrow from the original negative; because this thing was likely produced and shot reasonably quickly, there’s a reasonable amount of grain here and there, but – overall – I found the sights and sounds to be of pretty exceptional quality. (Again, I’m no trained video expert, but it worked just fine for me.)
Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? This is Arrow Films, and they rarely skimp on the extras. Fans have plenty to get excited about as the disc boasts not one but two (archival) audio commentaries; all-new video interviews with actors Gary Graham and Anne-Marie Johnson (both excellent) as well as an archival one with actor Paul Koslo; a fabulous retrospective on the film’s special effects; and a huge assortment of stills, notes, and the usual fodder including theatrical trailers. Again, it’s A-R-R-O-W, folks, so you won’t be disappointed. Take my word for it.
Highest recommendation possible.
Honestly, I’ve always loved Robot Jox since I first discovered it on VHS back in the early 1990’s. I’ve watched it a few times (via streaming) since, so I was nothing short of thrilled to finally make my opinion of this B-Movie Classic official in this space. Of course, its practical effects are dated – as are maybe its performances and ideas – but its magic is timeless, especially for those of us who appreciate smaller films precisely because they think big, work with what they have, and manage to deliver a measure of passion unmatched more often than not by big studio productions. A rare gem, even its imperfections are downright perfect.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary copy of Robot Jox (1989) 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: a late 1950’s melodrama that never quite feels noir enough – so far as I’m concerned – but goes by the name of Step Down To Terror.
(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 killer on the lam takes refuge in his childhood home where his mother and widowed sister-in-law are ignorant of his criminal past.”
Though I’ve always been a fan of noir, I’ll admit to failing to understand precisely why some films get christened with the genre heading while others don’t.
Some of this is owed to the ongoing debate about what truly qualifies a title as noir. Factually, there are some ‘in the know’ who insist on only allowing films of a certain chronology to fit into consideration, while others insist upon allowing a wider set of filters, perhaps even extending noir ownership to flicks well outside of the normally accepted windows. Me? Well, I’ve always tried to thematically stick to – as I said above – broken people making broken decisions as a foundation and then enforcing the post World War II timeframe, but even this doesn’t always make for perfect solutions.
Still, pictures like Step Down To Terror (1958) almost befuddle me as to why they’re part and parcel of what purists argue to be representative of authentic noir.
Charles Drake stars as Johnny Walters, the elusive killer on the lam who decides that his life of crime has finally given him enough extra scratch to head back home and settle down with his surreptitiously acquired wealth, start a business, and maybe raise a family. It isn’t long before the audience (and Johnny) realize that his escapades are bound to catch up with him – this is noir, after all – and a chance newspaper article fairly quickly shows that he’s still caught up on police radar to the point that investigators have shown up in town with hopes of nabbing him once and for all. Because his natural instinct is ‘flight’ over ‘fight,’ it becomes clear that Johnny might have to resort to his old ways if he’s seriously going to reach his golden years at this local.
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: a late 1950’s melodrama that never quite feels noir enough – so far as I’m concerned – but goes by the name of Step Down To Terror.
(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 killer on the lam takes refuge in his childhood home where his mother and widowed sister-in-law are ignorant of his criminal past.”
Though I’ve always been a fan of noir, I’ll admit to failing to understand precisely why some films get christened with the genre heading while others don’t.
Some of this is owed to the ongoing debate about what truly qualifies a title as noir. Factually, there are some ‘in the know’ who insist on only allowing films of a certain chronology to fit into consideration, while others insist upon allowing a wider set of filters, perhaps even extending noir ownership to flicks well outside of the normally accepted windows. Me? Well, I’ve always tried to thematically stick to – as I said above – broken people making broken decisions as a foundation and then enforcing the post World War II timeframe, but even this doesn’t always make for perfect solutions.
Still, pictures like Step Down To Terror (1958) almost befuddle me as to why they’re part and parcel of what purists argue to be representative of authentic noir.
Charles Drake stars as Johnny Walters, the elusive killer on the lam who decides that his life of crime has finally given him enough extra scratch to head back home and settle down with his surreptitiously acquired wealth, start a business, and maybe raise a family. It isn’t long before the audience (and Johnny) realize that his escapades are bound to catch up with him – this is noir, after all – and a chance newspaper article fairly quickly shows that he’s still caught up on police radar to the point that investigators have shown up in town with hopes of nabbing him once and for all. Because his natural instinct is ‘flight’ over ‘fight,’ it becomes clear that Johnny might have to resort to his old ways if he’s seriously going to reach his golden years at this local.
As one might suspect, Johnny’s greatest obstacle is the fact that he truly wants to be with his family. His desire to finally have a bit of respite appears authentic, so much so that he’s even given thoughts to taking care of his widowed sister-in-law Helen (a pretty interesting Colleen Miller) and her son Doug (Rickey Kelham). The problem here, however, is that Helen’s growing suspicions show that she’s not quite willing to go along with Johnny’s retirement package, prompting the well-dressed fugitive to abscond with more than a few of his ailing mother’s heart medication in order to deliver Helen to death’s door.
So … sure. Step Down arguably has some of the attributes normally ascribed to film’s in the noir era, but all too much of it just feels more like a dirty small-town melodrama than it does anything else. Johnny’s motives occasionally have modest appeal; though he’s clearly built his small fortune on some bad, bad deeds, his heart is in the right place socially in trying to use it to the betterment of his family. While the script (from Gordon McDonnell, Mel Dinelli, and Czenzi Ormonde) works hard to suggest that our lead agitator hasn’t quite committed to a clean life – there are suggestions he’s suddenly turned his eyes on Lily Kirby (Jocelyn Brando) and what might be her small-town savings account – not enough of these smaller moments connect. When doors are left wide open to interpretation, audiences might not see evil as being evil enough, and that waters down an otherwise tempting potboiler by cheapening the stew.
Still, Miller is more than a bit fetching here as the lass with a kinda/sorta heart of gold who, at first, fights against the obvious temptation to condemn Johnny before diving in at the risk of her own life; and that strengthens an otherwise routine performance in a few spots. While she doesn’t quite smolder – her character is far too pure for that – there’s still a hint of intrigue that makes her a sexy proposition – the ‘would she / wouldn’t she’ conundrum, up to a point – and it makes for an occasionally compelling back-and-forth between her and Drake.
Step Down To Terror (1958) was produced by Universal International Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, this brand new 2K remaster looks and sound very solid from start-to-finish. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts a commentary from authors Bryan Reesman and Maxy Evry along with the usual theatrical trailer to enjoy.
Alas, this one is only Mildly Recommended.
It’s hard to make too much of Step Down To Terror, mostly because it really only rises to the level of feeling noirish in a few small notches. Drake’s performance is good, but it lacks the teeth to show that he’s truly all bad when stacked up against the angelic do-gooder sister-in-law played to near pitch perfection by Miller. Though the two have a solid repartee, this one just needed a bit more – more suggested skullduggery, perhaps even more of an exploration of Johnny’s bad dealings – to register. Instead of matching wits with great noirs like 1947’s Out Of The Past or 1949’s The Third Man, Step Down To Terror feels more like a very dark episode of Leave It To Beaver.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Step Down To Terror (1958) – 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
So … sure. Step Down arguably has some of the attributes normally ascribed to film’s in the noir era, but all too much of it just feels more like a dirty small-town melodrama than it does anything else. Johnny’s motives occasionally have modest appeal; though he’s clearly built his small fortune on some bad, bad deeds, his heart is in the right place socially in trying to use it to the betterment of his family. While the script (from Gordon McDonnell, Mel Dinelli, and Czenzi Ormonde) works hard to suggest that our lead agitator hasn’t quite committed to a clean life – there are suggestions he’s suddenly turned his eyes on Lily Kirby (Jocelyn Brando) and what might be her small-town savings account – not enough of these smaller moments connect. When doors are left wide open to interpretation, audiences might not see evil as being evil enough, and that waters down an otherwise tempting potboiler by cheapening the stew.
Still, Miller is more than a bit fetching here as the lass with a kinda/sorta heart of gold who, at first, fights against the obvious temptation to condemn Johnny before diving in at the risk of her own life; and that strengthens an otherwise routine performance in a few spots. While she doesn’t quite smolder – her character is far too pure for that – there’s still a hint of intrigue that makes her a sexy proposition – the ‘would she / wouldn’t she’ conundrum, up to a point – and it makes for an occasionally compelling back-and-forth between her and Drake.
Step Down To Terror (1958) was produced by Universal International Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, this brand new 2K remaster looks and sound very solid from start-to-finish. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts a commentary from authors Bryan Reesman and Maxy Evry along with the usual theatrical trailer to enjoy.
Alas, this one is only Mildly Recommended.
It’s hard to make too much of Step Down To Terror, mostly because it really only rises to the level of feeling noirish in a few small notches. Drake’s performance is good, but it lacks the teeth to show that he’s truly all bad when stacked up against the angelic do-gooder sister-in-law played to near pitch perfection by Miller. Though the two have a solid repartee, this one just needed a bit more – more suggested skullduggery, perhaps even more of an exploration of Johnny’s bad dealings – to register. Instead of matching wits with great noirs like 1947’s Out Of The Past or 1949’s The Third Man, Step Down To Terror feels more like a very dark episode of Leave It To Beaver.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Step Down To Terror (1958) – 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
I’ve mentioned before in this space that ever since I was a little boy I’ve had an interest in all things paranormal; and – yes, yes, and yes – this definitely includes whether or not ‘the truth is out there’ as it might apply to the question of whether or not we are alone in the universe.
(No, no, and no: I’m not going to trouble you with my own theories on the matter!)
The humblest truth – as I see things – is that something has been happening in our skies for centuries. While the jury is out on whether or not these unidentified aerial phenomena are saucers, beings, or something even less conventional, there’s no escaping the fact that witnesses have been reporting them to authorities largely with the hope that whatever was seen can be sufficiently ‘explained away.’ Few of these folks are seeking celebrity status. In fact, probably even fewer of them escape any form of fortune or glory by merely reporting an encounter of such benign prospects. It’s sad that – culturally – we’ve chosen to ridicule so many who are just doing what they perceive to be the proper course of action in the event of seeing something up there, and maybe they would all be better off for having witnessed nothing of the sort. We can be a cruel, cruel people.
But because sightings persist, television programs both fictional or otherwise have sought to plumb the depths of the subject. One of the better shows as of late has been UFOs (2021-2022), a charming mix of drama and comedy that perhaps doesn’t tease the prospect of authentic disclosure the way that Fox TV’s long-lasting procedural juggernaut The X-Files (1993-2018) successfully did. Tonally, it may swim in the same waters sparingly; yet the true difference here is in how UFOs never quite strives to reach for definitive answers, instead aiming for that sweet spot where characters matter more to each other than they remain committed to pulling back the layers of mis- and disinformation bureaucracies have buried such topics under.
Besides, the truth in here – in the human heart – might be as equally complex as anything found out there.
(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 TV show’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A light-hearted comedy/drama centered on Didier Mathure, a brilliant space engineer whose aspirations are shattered when the rocket he’s spent a decade building explodes on take-off.”
I’ve often pointed out that IMDB.com’s synopses fail to hit the mark almost as often as they come near it, and that’s definitely the case here: UFOs’ first season is really only launched with that smidgen of information the website has provided, and the real substance of the drama and comedy involved in the life of Mathure (played by Melvil Poupaid), his family, and his associates is vastly more complex than is any driving conspiracy at the heart of the program. (Yes, yes, yes: there is one, and it’s occasionally handled with great depth.) Suffice it to say that if you come to the show looking for the ‘monster of the week’ variety of storytelling that makes up so much of genre entertainment, then you’re going to be disappointed. This, my friends, is a show about its characters and how each of them deals with one another as well as the fantastic mystery binding them together.
(No, no, and no: I’m not going to trouble you with my own theories on the matter!)
The humblest truth – as I see things – is that something has been happening in our skies for centuries. While the jury is out on whether or not these unidentified aerial phenomena are saucers, beings, or something even less conventional, there’s no escaping the fact that witnesses have been reporting them to authorities largely with the hope that whatever was seen can be sufficiently ‘explained away.’ Few of these folks are seeking celebrity status. In fact, probably even fewer of them escape any form of fortune or glory by merely reporting an encounter of such benign prospects. It’s sad that – culturally – we’ve chosen to ridicule so many who are just doing what they perceive to be the proper course of action in the event of seeing something up there, and maybe they would all be better off for having witnessed nothing of the sort. We can be a cruel, cruel people.
But because sightings persist, television programs both fictional or otherwise have sought to plumb the depths of the subject. One of the better shows as of late has been UFOs (2021-2022), a charming mix of drama and comedy that perhaps doesn’t tease the prospect of authentic disclosure the way that Fox TV’s long-lasting procedural juggernaut The X-Files (1993-2018) successfully did. Tonally, it may swim in the same waters sparingly; yet the true difference here is in how UFOs never quite strives to reach for definitive answers, instead aiming for that sweet spot where characters matter more to each other than they remain committed to pulling back the layers of mis- and disinformation bureaucracies have buried such topics under.
Besides, the truth in here – in the human heart – might be as equally complex as anything found out there.
(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 TV show’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A light-hearted comedy/drama centered on Didier Mathure, a brilliant space engineer whose aspirations are shattered when the rocket he’s spent a decade building explodes on take-off.”
I’ve often pointed out that IMDB.com’s synopses fail to hit the mark almost as often as they come near it, and that’s definitely the case here: UFOs’ first season is really only launched with that smidgen of information the website has provided, and the real substance of the drama and comedy involved in the life of Mathure (played by Melvil Poupaid), his family, and his associates is vastly more complex than is any driving conspiracy at the heart of the program. (Yes, yes, yes: there is one, and it’s occasionally handled with great depth.) Suffice it to say that if you come to the show looking for the ‘monster of the week’ variety of storytelling that makes up so much of genre entertainment, then you’re going to be disappointed. This, my friends, is a show about its characters and how each of them deals with one another as well as the fantastic mystery binding them together.
In fact, much of the first season is specifically built around the idea of Mathure has been deliberately tasked with debunking flying saucers – the quintessential approach applied by governments around the world since the 1940’s. Despite a professional catastrophe he may or may not have inflicted upon the French space program, this rocket scientist has been promised a whole new career awaits if he can just find a way to close shop on GEPAN, the government-funded research group whose phones ring regularly with eyewitnesses who claim to have just seen the impossible. While most of these calls have predictable explanations, there are a few that don’t, and – because he’s a scientist – Mathure can’t help but follow his growing curiosity when it begins to look like things aren’t what they seem when a door-to-door musical instrument salesman is abducted and doesn’t quite come back himself.
As I said above, what makes UFOs different is that the fact that these sightings and the light conspiracy that stems from them really are only used as the construct to explore an otherwise fairly orthodox small screen comedy. Mathure is assigned a group of teammates who clearly don’t see the world (much less science) the way he does, and the scripts rather smartly set these eccentrics working against the organizational status quo as well as occasionally putting them at odds with each other. When doubling down on deconstructing a flying saucer event only produces more questions than it does answers, Mathure starts to wonder why solutions are elusive, how mysteries only seem to widen, and just what a shadowy French military officer might be trying to conceal.
To UFOs’ strength, the show juggles a good deal of topics that have found some decent but curious exposure within the field of UFOlogy. Not content to explore sightings alone, these stories touch on elements of missing time, men in black, and the emotional aftermath some abductees explore once they’ve been delivered some message from our supposed galactic betters. There are many, many balls being juggled in the scope of the show’s twelve-episode season – along with some very solid character developments handled wonderfully by the central cast – and I was pleasantly surprised with just how well it all congealed in the season finale.
UFOs: Season 1 was produced by BE-FILMS, Montebello Productions, Umedia, and uFund. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable folks at Kino Lorber. For those needing this information spelled out succinctly, this is a French-language production with English subtitles. As for the technical specifications? This is a smartly produced television program, and the sights and sounds are extremely good consistently. Occasionally, there’s a special effect here and there; while not par with anything theatrical, they still do not distract from the overall aesthetic of the program. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Gasp! There’s not a single one of them, and – yes – even something modestly assembled would’ve been a nice supplement.
Highly recommended.
Though I’ll admit that UFOs: Season 1 had a few slow episodes in the middle – when allegiances were slowly shifting and a series of new developments were underway – the plotlines all converged very nicely, setting the stage for many of its characters to be in markedly new positions (and predicaments) for what appears to be a second season. While performances are all pretty good, I did find a few of the characters handled a bit unevenly, but because this is a French-language production (and I’m watching via English subtitles) I can’t help but wonder if some of the disconnect might be little more than some losses in translations. I’ve often remarked that translating comedy is, arguably, one of the hardest jobs imaginable; and some of UFOs smaller moments might be suffering a bit with this experience.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at MHz Choice and Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary DVD set of UFOs: Seasons 1 & 2 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
As I said above, what makes UFOs different is that the fact that these sightings and the light conspiracy that stems from them really are only used as the construct to explore an otherwise fairly orthodox small screen comedy. Mathure is assigned a group of teammates who clearly don’t see the world (much less science) the way he does, and the scripts rather smartly set these eccentrics working against the organizational status quo as well as occasionally putting them at odds with each other. When doubling down on deconstructing a flying saucer event only produces more questions than it does answers, Mathure starts to wonder why solutions are elusive, how mysteries only seem to widen, and just what a shadowy French military officer might be trying to conceal.
To UFOs’ strength, the show juggles a good deal of topics that have found some decent but curious exposure within the field of UFOlogy. Not content to explore sightings alone, these stories touch on elements of missing time, men in black, and the emotional aftermath some abductees explore once they’ve been delivered some message from our supposed galactic betters. There are many, many balls being juggled in the scope of the show’s twelve-episode season – along with some very solid character developments handled wonderfully by the central cast – and I was pleasantly surprised with just how well it all congealed in the season finale.
UFOs: Season 1 was produced by BE-FILMS, Montebello Productions, Umedia, and uFund. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable folks at Kino Lorber. For those needing this information spelled out succinctly, this is a French-language production with English subtitles. As for the technical specifications? This is a smartly produced television program, and the sights and sounds are extremely good consistently. Occasionally, there’s a special effect here and there; while not par with anything theatrical, they still do not distract from the overall aesthetic of the program. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Gasp! There’s not a single one of them, and – yes – even something modestly assembled would’ve been a nice supplement.
Highly recommended.
Though I’ll admit that UFOs: Season 1 had a few slow episodes in the middle – when allegiances were slowly shifting and a series of new developments were underway – the plotlines all converged very nicely, setting the stage for many of its characters to be in markedly new positions (and predicaments) for what appears to be a second season. While performances are all pretty good, I did find a few of the characters handled a bit unevenly, but because this is a French-language production (and I’m watching via English subtitles) I can’t help but wonder if some of the disconnect might be little more than some losses in translations. I’ve often remarked that translating comedy is, arguably, one of the hardest jobs imaginable; and some of UFOs smaller moments might be suffering a bit with this experience.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at MHz Choice and Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary DVD set of UFOs: Seasons 1 & 2 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
Folks, this will be the hill that I'll die on ... namely that there's never in all a human history been a better time to be a fan of genre collectibles.
Yes, yes, yes: I know that collecting anything these days can be pricey real quick. I've seen what manufacturers are asking for some of the best screen replicas out there, and -- like so many of you -- I'm just not willing to sell a kidney to hold that hot little Mandalorian Beskar helmet in my cold fingers because -- well, quite frankly -- I like peeing without a bag. As these prized commodities do tend to be a mainstay of the popular convention circuit, I tend to avoid those places -- except to look, at times -- in favor of searching out the smaller and still savvy creations that come down the mainstream pike. That said, I stumbled across these incredible Funko Bitty Pops a few weeks back in the Batman: The Animated Series variety (at Target, of all places) and then today found a few packs at WalMart in the Star Wars franchise. As you can guess, I just had to have a few for my collection.
For those wishing a bit more information, these are packaged as four-packs -- yes, you get four of the tiniest yet coolest miniatures I've had the good fortune of seeing manufactured -- with three of them being available through the carton windows and one being concealed. (Ah, ah, ah! Those of you thinking "well, I can just peel back that cardboard and see what's under there" should take note: the hidden figure is, indeed, twice hidden as it's wrapped in a reasonably thick black plastic wrapper that not even light can pass through.) This way, you can collect (essentially) only those teeny-tiny figures -- all molded in classic Funko style -- and still receive a special surprise with the blind buy. Nice thinking, Funko, as you made a believer out of me!
And, yes, those Mystery Bittys -- as they're advertised on the box -- are apparently classified as rare figures, too. My Tusken Raider is projected as 1/3 -- meaning, I believe, that it's one out of three chances that you'll come by one in blind packaging -- and there are a few others (Hammerhead, Tarkin, and what looks to be a fully translucent Stormtrooper, I think) out there just waiting for you to discover them. Of course, I'll be on the look-out for other ones that I can score with future purchases, though I'll likely not make any serious effort to collect them all.
The last very nice touch to the purchase is the fact that each set available comes with its own Bitty Pop display shelf. Basically, it's a four-slot clear plastic protector, but -- as you can see from the photos I'm rather excitedly including in this brief review -- it's still pretty spiffy. Granted, the thing sits a bit too flat on surfaces, and this unfortunately causes the Bittys to slip and slide out of the shelf and fall over, but that's a small bit of suffrage for having something so grand to occupy a bit of open territory in need of some character. It's a very good purchase.
These were priced at $14.99 at both Target and WalMart. Yes, some might find that a bit pricey for something so tiny, but I tend to look at this as money well spent to give me just a wee bit of joy.
As you can guess ... I give these two thumbs up. Highly recommended!
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
Yes, yes, yes: I know that collecting anything these days can be pricey real quick. I've seen what manufacturers are asking for some of the best screen replicas out there, and -- like so many of you -- I'm just not willing to sell a kidney to hold that hot little Mandalorian Beskar helmet in my cold fingers because -- well, quite frankly -- I like peeing without a bag. As these prized commodities do tend to be a mainstay of the popular convention circuit, I tend to avoid those places -- except to look, at times -- in favor of searching out the smaller and still savvy creations that come down the mainstream pike. That said, I stumbled across these incredible Funko Bitty Pops a few weeks back in the Batman: The Animated Series variety (at Target, of all places) and then today found a few packs at WalMart in the Star Wars franchise. As you can guess, I just had to have a few for my collection.
For those wishing a bit more information, these are packaged as four-packs -- yes, you get four of the tiniest yet coolest miniatures I've had the good fortune of seeing manufactured -- with three of them being available through the carton windows and one being concealed. (Ah, ah, ah! Those of you thinking "well, I can just peel back that cardboard and see what's under there" should take note: the hidden figure is, indeed, twice hidden as it's wrapped in a reasonably thick black plastic wrapper that not even light can pass through.) This way, you can collect (essentially) only those teeny-tiny figures -- all molded in classic Funko style -- and still receive a special surprise with the blind buy. Nice thinking, Funko, as you made a believer out of me!
And, yes, those Mystery Bittys -- as they're advertised on the box -- are apparently classified as rare figures, too. My Tusken Raider is projected as 1/3 -- meaning, I believe, that it's one out of three chances that you'll come by one in blind packaging -- and there are a few others (Hammerhead, Tarkin, and what looks to be a fully translucent Stormtrooper, I think) out there just waiting for you to discover them. Of course, I'll be on the look-out for other ones that I can score with future purchases, though I'll likely not make any serious effort to collect them all.
The last very nice touch to the purchase is the fact that each set available comes with its own Bitty Pop display shelf. Basically, it's a four-slot clear plastic protector, but -- as you can see from the photos I'm rather excitedly including in this brief review -- it's still pretty spiffy. Granted, the thing sits a bit too flat on surfaces, and this unfortunately causes the Bittys to slip and slide out of the shelf and fall over, but that's a small bit of suffrage for having something so grand to occupy a bit of open territory in need of some character. It's a very good purchase.
These were priced at $14.99 at both Target and WalMart. Yes, some might find that a bit pricey for something so tiny, but I tend to look at this as money well spent to give me just a wee bit of joy.
As you can guess ... I give these two thumbs up. Highly recommended!
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
There are times when it’s ripe to celebrate the unconventional, and that’s exactly what comes to mind – at least, for me – when I think about Mad Heidi.
From the press materials provided to me, I’ve learned that the project launched not all that long ago as an entirely crowd-funded project spearheaded by budding auteurs Johannes Hartmann and Sandro Klopfstein. Along with screenwriter Gregory D. Widmer, they wrote the script for the Swissploitation feature film, also pairing up to direct the picture precisely so they could stay true to the creative vision. And if there are movie gods out there still watching for nifty little gems that deserve a bit of extra attention, then their efforts should be rewarded with a long and fruitful career … but maybe one with decidedly less cheese.
At its core, Mad Heidi feels little more than a comedy show sketch that – with a little grease and a lotta love – manages to expand from those humble origins to a worthwhile 90-minute feature film. (Indeed, the merry pranksters behind NBC’s long-running Saturday Night Live at one time operated a solid cottage industry around turning several of their bits and pieces and characters into silver screen fodder, so there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.) I’ll admit honestly that it drags a bit clunkily in a few spots wherein pacing is a bit uneven, but I suspect that’s because Hartmann and Klopfstein remained at all times to committed – even to the flick’s detriment – to adhering to the formula as designed. This being their debut property, I can understand and appreciate the commitment as – in most cases – it makes for a finer result; still, the best comedies withstand the test of time for knowing when to break the rules, and here’s hoping that’s a little lesson they learn with the next time at bat.
(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:
“Swiss mountain girl Heidi is abducted by brutal government troops and must defend herself and fight a war against a cheese-fueled machinery of hate.”
Reviewing the obvious comedy is never an easy task.
Why?
From the press materials provided to me, I’ve learned that the project launched not all that long ago as an entirely crowd-funded project spearheaded by budding auteurs Johannes Hartmann and Sandro Klopfstein. Along with screenwriter Gregory D. Widmer, they wrote the script for the Swissploitation feature film, also pairing up to direct the picture precisely so they could stay true to the creative vision. And if there are movie gods out there still watching for nifty little gems that deserve a bit of extra attention, then their efforts should be rewarded with a long and fruitful career … but maybe one with decidedly less cheese.
At its core, Mad Heidi feels little more than a comedy show sketch that – with a little grease and a lotta love – manages to expand from those humble origins to a worthwhile 90-minute feature film. (Indeed, the merry pranksters behind NBC’s long-running Saturday Night Live at one time operated a solid cottage industry around turning several of their bits and pieces and characters into silver screen fodder, so there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.) I’ll admit honestly that it drags a bit clunkily in a few spots wherein pacing is a bit uneven, but I suspect that’s because Hartmann and Klopfstein remained at all times to committed – even to the flick’s detriment – to adhering to the formula as designed. This being their debut property, I can understand and appreciate the commitment as – in most cases – it makes for a finer result; still, the best comedies withstand the test of time for knowing when to break the rules, and here’s hoping that’s a little lesson they learn with the next time at bat.
(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:
“Swiss mountain girl Heidi is abducted by brutal government troops and must defend herself and fight a war against a cheese-fueled machinery of hate.”
Reviewing the obvious comedy is never an easy task.
Why?
Well, obvious comedies don’t require much thought, and – despite what some might have you believe – calculating the good, the bad, and the ugly of any story remains a somewhat cerebral exercise. One thinks about story and characters and shot composition and narrative framing and a whole lot of ideas in the vast, vast process of communication; and – in that process – some of the laughs might get lost in the shuffle. While most readers might be simply happy with knowing that, yes, I laughed – I laughed a lot – at so much of Mad Heidi, I think ignoring just why I thought it was so funny does a disservice to all of those who worked very hard on what looks to be a pretty effective with a crowd-funded feature.
Keeping that disclaimer in mind, I’d argue that it helps going into the flick to fully accept that – rather than exploit (a key word here) the potential highs and lows of cheap laughs – storytellers Hartmann and Klopfstein – along with their cast and crew – were obviously committed to achieving what it popularly known as a ‘concept film.’ Yes, it’s a comedy, but textually it’s equal parts satire and parody. (Yes, purists, there is a difference.) Milking a punchline with broad comic potential is a gift, but crafting an entire fictional universe and then populating it with actors and technicians takes far greater commitment … and I usually find it much more entertaining!
That’s why I celebrate films like Mad Heidi. It isn’t about getting the obvious jokes or celebrating one individual campy bit of schtick here and there; it’s about how all of these pieces – including camera angles, production design, special effects, and every single other piece that goes into perfecting this world caught on camera – fit together seamlessly … as though this place and all its people not only exist but could be out there right now … just waiting for its inevitable discovery. This kind of attention to detail is extraordinary, frankly, and it’s rarely found as well done as it is here in comedy, so accolades are much deserved. It’s truly a well-done and well-rounded jewel, and I can only hope others agree.
Keeping that disclaimer in mind, I’d argue that it helps going into the flick to fully accept that – rather than exploit (a key word here) the potential highs and lows of cheap laughs – storytellers Hartmann and Klopfstein – along with their cast and crew – were obviously committed to achieving what it popularly known as a ‘concept film.’ Yes, it’s a comedy, but textually it’s equal parts satire and parody. (Yes, purists, there is a difference.) Milking a punchline with broad comic potential is a gift, but crafting an entire fictional universe and then populating it with actors and technicians takes far greater commitment … and I usually find it much more entertaining!
That’s why I celebrate films like Mad Heidi. It isn’t about getting the obvious jokes or celebrating one individual campy bit of schtick here and there; it’s about how all of these pieces – including camera angles, production design, special effects, and every single other piece that goes into perfecting this world caught on camera – fit together seamlessly … as though this place and all its people not only exist but could be out there right now … just waiting for its inevitable discovery. This kind of attention to detail is extraordinary, frankly, and it’s rarely found as well done as it is here in comedy, so accolades are much deserved. It’s truly a well-done and well-rounded jewel, and I can only hope others agree.
The cheese industry – that vile business you never knew was so, well, vile – has taken over all of the Swiss Alps. Meili’s Cheese, in particular, is run by the particularly obnoxious President Meili (Casper Van Dien in a great comic turn as a global tyrant, though his accent kinda/sorta comes and goes), a Hitler-wannabe if ever there were. Surrounding himself and his empire with Swiss socialists soldiers not all that unlike those who served the Third Reich (back in its day), Meili and his toadies have set their sights not on Switzerland domination … not on European domination … but on world domination. They’re starting this journey rather humbly with just trying to take over France – via seizing ample opportunity to provide those wine-loving Frenchmen and women with ample cheese – but world domination’s gotta start somewhere.
As happens when cruel dictators take root, the good people rebel, and they turn their mostly peaceful demonstrations into something a bit bloodier. Meili responds with guns in the streets, as he cannot allow such civil disobedience to stand in the way of his bid to exterminate the lactose-intolerant from existence. His ‘see something, say something’ campaign has turned its sights toward outing friends, neighbors, and countrymen whose dietary restrictions are seen as a threat to the Swiss way of life; so, yes, blood has been spilled. Plenty of it. With cheese.
Into this world comes the impressionable heroine, Heidi (played by the immeasurably fetching Alice Lucy). Smitten by the forbidden passions stirred up in her young loins (do girls have loins?) by Goat Peter (Kel Matsena), she defies the constant warnings and wishes of her wise rebel-turned-farmer grandfather Alpöhi (David Schofield), only to eventually find herself captured by the evil Kommandant Knorr (Max Rüdlinger) after he viciously guns down her lover in the streets. Stripped of her faith and down to all but her knickers, the young lass is thrown into the equivalent of a Nazi re-education camp. It’s at this point – once and for all – that audiences can be assured that Heidi is well on her way down the cobblestone path of revenge.
There’s more – a good deal more as the twists and turns continue for the bulk of the flick’s impressive run – but I suspect that doesn’t much matter. At this point, I suppose folks who know Mad Heidi for what it is have already made up their mind about whether or not to see it. The preview alone gives audiences a wonderful introduction to what can be expected, and all this reviewer can say is that I wasn’t quite prepared for the onslaught of ideas in what looked like a feature reaching non-stop for the ‘low-handing fruit.’ No … as a film, Mad Heidi is smarter than that. Like all things with cheese, this one might cause a bit of bloat … but I found it well worth the time and digestion. Some might get down on their knees and beg that whatever cheesy gods they worship to make the madness end … but this was a snack I thoroughly enjoyed.
As happens when cruel dictators take root, the good people rebel, and they turn their mostly peaceful demonstrations into something a bit bloodier. Meili responds with guns in the streets, as he cannot allow such civil disobedience to stand in the way of his bid to exterminate the lactose-intolerant from existence. His ‘see something, say something’ campaign has turned its sights toward outing friends, neighbors, and countrymen whose dietary restrictions are seen as a threat to the Swiss way of life; so, yes, blood has been spilled. Plenty of it. With cheese.
Into this world comes the impressionable heroine, Heidi (played by the immeasurably fetching Alice Lucy). Smitten by the forbidden passions stirred up in her young loins (do girls have loins?) by Goat Peter (Kel Matsena), she defies the constant warnings and wishes of her wise rebel-turned-farmer grandfather Alpöhi (David Schofield), only to eventually find herself captured by the evil Kommandant Knorr (Max Rüdlinger) after he viciously guns down her lover in the streets. Stripped of her faith and down to all but her knickers, the young lass is thrown into the equivalent of a Nazi re-education camp. It’s at this point – once and for all – that audiences can be assured that Heidi is well on her way down the cobblestone path of revenge.
There’s more – a good deal more as the twists and turns continue for the bulk of the flick’s impressive run – but I suspect that doesn’t much matter. At this point, I suppose folks who know Mad Heidi for what it is have already made up their mind about whether or not to see it. The preview alone gives audiences a wonderful introduction to what can be expected, and all this reviewer can say is that I wasn’t quite prepared for the onslaught of ideas in what looked like a feature reaching non-stop for the ‘low-handing fruit.’ No … as a film, Mad Heidi is smarter than that. Like all things with cheese, this one might cause a bit of bloat … but I found it well worth the time and digestion. Some might get down on their knees and beg that whatever cheesy gods they worship to make the madness end … but this was a snack I thoroughly enjoyed.
Lastly, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that Mad Heidi has been the recipient of some solid praise throughout its theatrical screenings. In particular, the film festival circuit has embraced its zany magic for exactly what it is – a wonderful send-up of all things found in the very best (and very worst) exploitation flicks. In fact, the film’s IMDB.com page shows that – as of today’s date – it’s garnered an incredible thirteen different festival wins from around the world, and that – my friends – is nothing to laugh at. Though I usually don’t agree with that particular audience, I’m thrilled to see that they, too, see this picture as something worthy of as much praise as I’ve tried to give it in this space.
What more can I say … other than bon appetit?
Mad Heidi (2022) was produced by Swissploitation Films and A Film Company. Presently, the film is poised for its U.S. and Canadian debut on June 21st via its partnership with Fathom Events. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, there were a few sequences with some very obvious CGI special effects; however, the charm of watching an obvious parody of a grindhouse film was only better served by some obvious visual trickery. Also, there flick employs quite a few practical (bloody) in-camera techniques to some gleeful results. Just go with the flow, and you’ll have a blast. Lastly, as I viewed this picture via streaming, there were no special features to consider.
Highly recommended.
Look, folks: I’m not going to try to convince anyone that Mad Heidi (2022) is a perfect film, mostly because that isn’t what I do ‘round these parts. As I’ve always said, you’re free to make up your mind about what you like, just like I’m free to do the same on this end. But I can assure you that I had an incredible 90-minute ride with this damn near tonally perfect exploitation send-up, so much so that I’m likely going to see this theatrically when it premieres nearby thanks to the folks at Fathom Events. (If I do, then this would be a first for this long-time film nerd.) Rarely does everyone involved – cast, crew, extras, you name it – act as if they’re in on the joke, but here? Why, this was a gloriously funny film – even with its imperfections – and I give it a huge thumbs-up.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Swissploitation Films and Raven Banner Releasing provided me with complimentary streaming access to Mad Heidi (2022) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
What more can I say … other than bon appetit?
Mad Heidi (2022) was produced by Swissploitation Films and A Film Company. Presently, the film is poised for its U.S. and Canadian debut on June 21st via its partnership with Fathom Events. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, there were a few sequences with some very obvious CGI special effects; however, the charm of watching an obvious parody of a grindhouse film was only better served by some obvious visual trickery. Also, there flick employs quite a few practical (bloody) in-camera techniques to some gleeful results. Just go with the flow, and you’ll have a blast. Lastly, as I viewed this picture via streaming, there were no special features to consider.
Highly recommended.
Look, folks: I’m not going to try to convince anyone that Mad Heidi (2022) is a perfect film, mostly because that isn’t what I do ‘round these parts. As I’ve always said, you’re free to make up your mind about what you like, just like I’m free to do the same on this end. But I can assure you that I had an incredible 90-minute ride with this damn near tonally perfect exploitation send-up, so much so that I’m likely going to see this theatrically when it premieres nearby thanks to the folks at Fathom Events. (If I do, then this would be a first for this long-time film nerd.) Rarely does everyone involved – cast, crew, extras, you name it – act as if they’re in on the joke, but here? Why, this was a gloriously funny film – even with its imperfections – and I give it a huge thumbs-up.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Swissploitation Films and Raven Banner Releasing provided me with complimentary streaming access to Mad Heidi (2022) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
Stardate 05.31.2023.A: The Misdirected Male Angst And Tech Noir Mindset Of 1986's Stellar 'Kamikaze'
Because I do an awful lot of casual reading on genre films, I’ve found that certain titles – releases from the days of yore – somehow almost earn their own mythical reputations.
While essentially there’s nothing wrong with this – each of us is perfectly entitled to champion whichever and whatever flick ‘floats your boat’ (as they say) – I do try to approach these pictures with kid gloves. Seeing what someone else has seen in a story or a performance can be tricky business. My filters have me attuned to pick up only what works for me, so I do try to exercise of modicum of caution when finally getting the opportunity to sit down with something that’s been touted for so long as a ‘hidden gem.’ After all, there are plenty of reasons why one film might resonate with you and fail to strike a chord with me, and I think my exercised restraint has served me well over the years.
And – for the record – I’ve lost count of the number of times Kamikaze (1986) has been recommended to me by others or has stumbled over in some reading. It’s certainly popped up dozens of times that I can think of, and I think most of its reputation is owed to the fact that the project was an earlier work stemming from the creative mind of Luc Besson. While not his first screenplay, it definitely rates as one of his earlier properties, and it came about well before he rose to prominence with such pictures as The Big Blue (1988), Leon: The Professional (1994), and The Fifth Element (1997). Viewed entirely against the backdrop of a genre legend in transition, I suppose many who saw Kamikaze back in the day might’ve remembered the name and, thus, granted the feature some extra goodwill as each of us are wont to do from time-to-time.
Thanks to the good people at Kino Lorber, I’ve finally had the privilege of digesting one of Besson’s early attempts … and it’s easy to see why some have awarded it with such revered status. Though I may not find it as significant as others, I do have something to say about its place and time that might reflect on a cinematic trend of that era, so stay tuned for after the break …
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A crazy old and bored scientist invents a system which allows him to reach through the airwaves and transform live TV cameras into weapons to kill whoever is being filmed.”
While essentially there’s nothing wrong with this – each of us is perfectly entitled to champion whichever and whatever flick ‘floats your boat’ (as they say) – I do try to approach these pictures with kid gloves. Seeing what someone else has seen in a story or a performance can be tricky business. My filters have me attuned to pick up only what works for me, so I do try to exercise of modicum of caution when finally getting the opportunity to sit down with something that’s been touted for so long as a ‘hidden gem.’ After all, there are plenty of reasons why one film might resonate with you and fail to strike a chord with me, and I think my exercised restraint has served me well over the years.
And – for the record – I’ve lost count of the number of times Kamikaze (1986) has been recommended to me by others or has stumbled over in some reading. It’s certainly popped up dozens of times that I can think of, and I think most of its reputation is owed to the fact that the project was an earlier work stemming from the creative mind of Luc Besson. While not his first screenplay, it definitely rates as one of his earlier properties, and it came about well before he rose to prominence with such pictures as The Big Blue (1988), Leon: The Professional (1994), and The Fifth Element (1997). Viewed entirely against the backdrop of a genre legend in transition, I suppose many who saw Kamikaze back in the day might’ve remembered the name and, thus, granted the feature some extra goodwill as each of us are wont to do from time-to-time.
Thanks to the good people at Kino Lorber, I’ve finally had the privilege of digesting one of Besson’s early attempts … and it’s easy to see why some have awarded it with such revered status. Though I may not find it as significant as others, I do have something to say about its place and time that might reflect on a cinematic trend of that era, so stay tuned for after the break …
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A crazy old and bored scientist invents a system which allows him to reach through the airwaves and transform live TV cameras into weapons to kill whoever is being filmed.”
Without belaboring this point too much, what I found particularly interesting about Kamikaze is where it kinda/sorta falls in the zeitgeist of the mid-to-late 1980’s. Its sensibilities both align and defy a bit of what other storytellers were doing elsewhere on the planet, and I think that makes for an attractive comparison.
Chiefly, I’m talking about Tech Noir, an emerging sub-genre popularly defined from such 1980’s films as Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner (1982, James Cameron’s The Terminator (1984), and Paul Verhoeven’s RoboCop (1987). Certainly, there are other features that demonstrate this theatrical trend of questioning the benefits and detriments of emerging technologies, yet I’ve personally always looked at these three flicks as really building a solid foundation upon which the house that becomes Tech Noir is built. Director Didier Grousset’s Kamikaze is modest with its special and practical effects by contrast, but an examination of its central villain – unemployed scientist Albert (played by Michel Galabru) – uncovers striking similarities to the themes of those meatier pursuits.
In film’s opening, Albert – who apparently works in electronics and/or robotics, it’s never quite clear – is fired by letter. His thirty years of service means nothing to the big corporation, and he’s summarily excused from his position when an office lackey shows up with written confirmation that his post has been terminated. Because – as a man – he’s been reduced to little more than a faceless cog in the industrial machine, Albert dutifully but begrudgingly packs up his meager belongings and heads for home, where he announces to his live-in nephew and niece that his career is over. While they go about the business of living life to the fullest (apparently with no jobs but plenty of free time for holidays), Albert shuts himself in with little more than a television set to while away the endless hours.
As a consequence of being reduced to nothing, Albert has no choice but to direct his growing resentment with mankind at the talking heads on the Boob Tube. Being somewhat overweight and unattractive, the inventor grows increasingly angry with one television commentator after another – all of which happen to be female and, more likely, the kind of females that would spurn the attractions of a somewhat overweight and unattractive male of Albert’s age – so he concocts a scheme to have them not only removed from his life but all of mankind. Using the only gifts he has – his genuine intellect – the scientist devises a death ray that utilizes television broadcast frequencies in order to kill off these adversaries one by one. These murders happen on live television, on camera for the home audiences to serve as witnesses.
In Ridley Scott’s aforementioned Blade Runner, the replicant Rachel has evolved to the point wherein it no longer knows much less questions what it is or who it is.
Similarly, Albert – presumed to be a man of pure science – has lost touch with most if not all of his own humanity. As we’re given no other backstory upon which to evaluate his nefarious motivations, I think it’s safe to assume he’s a man who has spent his life among machines, building and perfecting them to serve some basic function. Having spent little to no time among humans, he consequently sees them as little more than obstructions to his preferred way of life. He cannot – and chooses not – to relate to them. In fact, all we see of his interactions with family is constant struggle and constant disappointment; they do not adhere to his imposed standards, so removing them from his life is merely a passionless solution – the logical conclusion to an ineffective relationship. Though one could argue that shreds of a moral core still exist (Albert clearly knows what he has done is wrong and unlawful in the last reel as evidenced by his attempts to, first, misdirect the police and then flee for his safety), he no longer responds to those impulses. Instead, he reverts to his core programming of inventing machines to perform his bidding. He uses his genius to serve his dark, perhaps sometimes misogynist desires – now that he’s free of his corporate overlords – and this becomes his sole purpose.
Chiefly, I’m talking about Tech Noir, an emerging sub-genre popularly defined from such 1980’s films as Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner (1982, James Cameron’s The Terminator (1984), and Paul Verhoeven’s RoboCop (1987). Certainly, there are other features that demonstrate this theatrical trend of questioning the benefits and detriments of emerging technologies, yet I’ve personally always looked at these three flicks as really building a solid foundation upon which the house that becomes Tech Noir is built. Director Didier Grousset’s Kamikaze is modest with its special and practical effects by contrast, but an examination of its central villain – unemployed scientist Albert (played by Michel Galabru) – uncovers striking similarities to the themes of those meatier pursuits.
In film’s opening, Albert – who apparently works in electronics and/or robotics, it’s never quite clear – is fired by letter. His thirty years of service means nothing to the big corporation, and he’s summarily excused from his position when an office lackey shows up with written confirmation that his post has been terminated. Because – as a man – he’s been reduced to little more than a faceless cog in the industrial machine, Albert dutifully but begrudgingly packs up his meager belongings and heads for home, where he announces to his live-in nephew and niece that his career is over. While they go about the business of living life to the fullest (apparently with no jobs but plenty of free time for holidays), Albert shuts himself in with little more than a television set to while away the endless hours.
As a consequence of being reduced to nothing, Albert has no choice but to direct his growing resentment with mankind at the talking heads on the Boob Tube. Being somewhat overweight and unattractive, the inventor grows increasingly angry with one television commentator after another – all of which happen to be female and, more likely, the kind of females that would spurn the attractions of a somewhat overweight and unattractive male of Albert’s age – so he concocts a scheme to have them not only removed from his life but all of mankind. Using the only gifts he has – his genuine intellect – the scientist devises a death ray that utilizes television broadcast frequencies in order to kill off these adversaries one by one. These murders happen on live television, on camera for the home audiences to serve as witnesses.
In Ridley Scott’s aforementioned Blade Runner, the replicant Rachel has evolved to the point wherein it no longer knows much less questions what it is or who it is.
Similarly, Albert – presumed to be a man of pure science – has lost touch with most if not all of his own humanity. As we’re given no other backstory upon which to evaluate his nefarious motivations, I think it’s safe to assume he’s a man who has spent his life among machines, building and perfecting them to serve some basic function. Having spent little to no time among humans, he consequently sees them as little more than obstructions to his preferred way of life. He cannot – and chooses not – to relate to them. In fact, all we see of his interactions with family is constant struggle and constant disappointment; they do not adhere to his imposed standards, so removing them from his life is merely a passionless solution – the logical conclusion to an ineffective relationship. Though one could argue that shreds of a moral core still exist (Albert clearly knows what he has done is wrong and unlawful in the last reel as evidenced by his attempts to, first, misdirect the police and then flee for his safety), he no longer responds to those impulses. Instead, he reverts to his core programming of inventing machines to perform his bidding. He uses his genius to serve his dark, perhaps sometimes misogynist desires – now that he’s free of his corporate overlords – and this becomes his sole purpose.
Interestingly enough, I’d ask how is Albert’s life mission all that much different from the model T-800 in Cameron’s The Terminator? How is it all that much different than the cyborgized Alex Murphy in RoboCop? Granted, what develops over the life of those more mechanical characters might have greater symbolism, but the point here is that at the same time directors Scott, Cameron, and Verhoeven were pulling back the veil on how up-close-and-personal the threats to advancing technology were on their side of the world, director Grousset – along with screenwriters Besson and Michèle Pétin – were taking a markedly different tact but – maybe – heading in the same direction.
Setting aside the cerebral influences, Kamikaze is a pretty solid thriller with some mild comic flair thrown in for good measure. It’s cleverly shot, and – while not all of the science is perfectly accessible – it’s assembled in such a way as to make it both prescient and entertaining. Richard Bohringer also stars as the police inspector who both uncovers Albert’s scheme and races to stop him before it’s too late, and Dominique Lavanant turns in good marks as the comely government official who might inadvertently fall victim if they can’t stop him soon enough.
Kamikaze (1986) was produced by ARP Sélection, Gaumont, and Les Films du Loup. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? Though the packaging doesn’t list any remastering of this, I thought that the sights and sounds were actually all very, very good. Images are definitely crisp – meaning this had some excellent cinematography for the period – and the soundtrack is reasonably clear and vibrant. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts an audio commentary by film historian Eddy Von Mueller, a director’s interview, and a documentary on the making of the picture, along with the usual coming attractions. It’s a very solid collection that should keep fans interested for some time.
Highly recommended.
Kamikaze is a film that – somehow – I’ve heard a great deal about over the years that I’m finally delighted to have seen. Not only is it a biting satire on the dangers of consuming too much television but also the film is a testament to the budding career of Luc Besson (who crafted the screenplay). As can happen with projects that blend genres, there’s just enough science to make it SciFi – along with just enough humor to make it a dark comedy – but adding noir sensibilities (with just a touch of Tech Noir) elevates this nearly to point of making it a ‘must see’ for fans of 80’s techno thrillers.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Kamikaze (1986) 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
Setting aside the cerebral influences, Kamikaze is a pretty solid thriller with some mild comic flair thrown in for good measure. It’s cleverly shot, and – while not all of the science is perfectly accessible – it’s assembled in such a way as to make it both prescient and entertaining. Richard Bohringer also stars as the police inspector who both uncovers Albert’s scheme and races to stop him before it’s too late, and Dominique Lavanant turns in good marks as the comely government official who might inadvertently fall victim if they can’t stop him soon enough.
Kamikaze (1986) was produced by ARP Sélection, Gaumont, and Les Films du Loup. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? Though the packaging doesn’t list any remastering of this, I thought that the sights and sounds were actually all very, very good. Images are definitely crisp – meaning this had some excellent cinematography for the period – and the soundtrack is reasonably clear and vibrant. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts an audio commentary by film historian Eddy Von Mueller, a director’s interview, and a documentary on the making of the picture, along with the usual coming attractions. It’s a very solid collection that should keep fans interested for some time.
Highly recommended.
Kamikaze is a film that – somehow – I’ve heard a great deal about over the years that I’m finally delighted to have seen. Not only is it a biting satire on the dangers of consuming too much television but also the film is a testament to the budding career of Luc Besson (who crafted the screenplay). As can happen with projects that blend genres, there’s just enough science to make it SciFi – along with just enough humor to make it a dark comedy – but adding noir sensibilities (with just a touch of Tech Noir) elevates this nearly to point of making it a ‘must see’ for fans of 80’s techno thrillers.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Kamikaze (1986) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
As I’ve said before, I’m quite smitten with the world of film noir.
Honestly, I love it for a whole lot of reasons but only one in particular that I often share with readers here: I see film noir as a black-and-white existence most often populated with broken people making broken choices, and I like to call these characters ‘monsters of a sort.’ That’s why I’ll occasionally cover noirs in this space – along with the Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror features – when I get the inkling, and that happens a lot when I can squeeze in the screenings.
Such is the case today as I was graciously provided a complimentary Blu-ray set by Kino Lorber: Film Noir – The Dark Side Of Cinema, Volume XIII.
First up: an exceptional spy story – certainly not unheard of for noir – that goes by the name of Spy Hunt.
(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:
“During the Cold War, a microfilm concealed in the collar of a panther, transported by freight rail, is sought by several spies after the animal escapes its cage following the train’s derailment in Switzerland.”
If that plot synopsis sounds a bit convoluted, then all I can say is rest assured that it actually works quite nicely throughout Spy Hunt, a mostly lean Cold War-style thriller involving guys, spies, and lies. For a picture I’d never even heard about before popping it in the player, this one was a wonderful surprise. It boasts a solid premise, a few welcome character twists, and even a bit of dated but interesting well shot action sequences. In fact, I enjoyed it so much because it exemplifies a kind of loosely stylized storytelling found most often in only the best older flicks. Feel free to add this one to your list.
Steve Quain (played by a memorable Howard Duff) is – apparently – an animal trainer in Europe who seizes upon the opportunity to escort a few famed black panthers on a rail trip that is supposed to inevitably take him back home to the good ol’ United States. However, a lovely secret agent by the name of Catherine Ullven (a mildly exotic Märta Torén) has been tasked by her superiors to hide proof of some political skullduggery (on a microfilm) in one of the wild animals’ collars, certainly a place no mortal man would think to search. But the chance discovery by a pair of conspiring thugs puts them in pursuit, meaning that the good lady will have to get the evidence back before it falls back into the hands of the enemy! As tends to happen in – cough cough – thrilling melodramas of the bygone era, she not only teams up with Quain to hunt the escaped beasts through the Swiss Alps but also pledges her heart to him before all is said-and-done in the big finish. Once again, Hollywood proves that love conquers all.
Yes, yes, and yes: reading between the lines, one might discern that the whole affair of Spy Hunt is a bit incredulous at times, but the cast and crew buy strongly enough into the premise that it makes for a very entertaining adventure. George Sherman (who directed 1944’s The Lady And The Monster along with a great deal of Westerns) keeps the flick moving at an appreciable pace, never quite allowing the action or the intrigue to slow down enough to allow viewers time to question some otherwise curious circumstances. Like crafting a respectable Agatha Christie mystery, screenwriters Victor Canning, Leonard Lee, and George Zuckerman space out both character introductions and a few secret reveals effectively, never quite giving too much nor too little information but hitting the ‘just enough’ sweet spot each and every time.
In fact, the entire caper builds wonderfully to a bedside showdown wherein only Ullven’s quick thinking – and a wee bit of luck – give the good guys the chance to best the baddies in the nick of time.
Spy Hunt (1950) was produced by Universal International Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can attest to the fact that the product packaging confirms this is an all-new 2K mastering, and it looks and sounds very, very good. (I did notice a momentary audio glitch late in the picture, and I’m guessing that might be a flaw from the source material.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts an audio commentary hosted by journalists/authors Bryan Reesman and Max Evry along with some promotional trailers for fans to review.
Highly recommended.
As Spy Hunt (1950) was packaged as part of a collection of film noirs, I’ll have to admit that – of the three – it was the strongest of the bunch, damn near head-and-shoulders over its partnered flicks. Some of this is owed to the fact that the script combines elements of a straight action picture with that of a good spy potboiler, and the production clearly benefits from some quality cinematography that takes audiences from darkened city exteriors to the great wide open of the Swiss Alps (or a reasonable facsimile). It also avoids some of the usual melodrama ascribed to so many films of its era. Still, the cast is strong, the action is solid, and good triumphs over evil in the end. What more could you ask for?
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Spy Hunt (1950) – 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
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.
First up: an exceptional spy story – certainly not unheard of for noir – that goes by the name of Spy Hunt.
(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:
“During the Cold War, a microfilm concealed in the collar of a panther, transported by freight rail, is sought by several spies after the animal escapes its cage following the train’s derailment in Switzerland.”
If that plot synopsis sounds a bit convoluted, then all I can say is rest assured that it actually works quite nicely throughout Spy Hunt, a mostly lean Cold War-style thriller involving guys, spies, and lies. For a picture I’d never even heard about before popping it in the player, this one was a wonderful surprise. It boasts a solid premise, a few welcome character twists, and even a bit of dated but interesting well shot action sequences. In fact, I enjoyed it so much because it exemplifies a kind of loosely stylized storytelling found most often in only the best older flicks. Feel free to add this one to your list.
Steve Quain (played by a memorable Howard Duff) is – apparently – an animal trainer in Europe who seizes upon the opportunity to escort a few famed black panthers on a rail trip that is supposed to inevitably take him back home to the good ol’ United States. However, a lovely secret agent by the name of Catherine Ullven (a mildly exotic Märta Torén) has been tasked by her superiors to hide proof of some political skullduggery (on a microfilm) in one of the wild animals’ collars, certainly a place no mortal man would think to search. But the chance discovery by a pair of conspiring thugs puts them in pursuit, meaning that the good lady will have to get the evidence back before it falls back into the hands of the enemy! As tends to happen in – cough cough – thrilling melodramas of the bygone era, she not only teams up with Quain to hunt the escaped beasts through the Swiss Alps but also pledges her heart to him before all is said-and-done in the big finish. Once again, Hollywood proves that love conquers all.
Yes, yes, and yes: reading between the lines, one might discern that the whole affair of Spy Hunt is a bit incredulous at times, but the cast and crew buy strongly enough into the premise that it makes for a very entertaining adventure. George Sherman (who directed 1944’s The Lady And The Monster along with a great deal of Westerns) keeps the flick moving at an appreciable pace, never quite allowing the action or the intrigue to slow down enough to allow viewers time to question some otherwise curious circumstances. Like crafting a respectable Agatha Christie mystery, screenwriters Victor Canning, Leonard Lee, and George Zuckerman space out both character introductions and a few secret reveals effectively, never quite giving too much nor too little information but hitting the ‘just enough’ sweet spot each and every time.
In fact, the entire caper builds wonderfully to a bedside showdown wherein only Ullven’s quick thinking – and a wee bit of luck – give the good guys the chance to best the baddies in the nick of time.
Spy Hunt (1950) was produced by Universal International Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can attest to the fact that the product packaging confirms this is an all-new 2K mastering, and it looks and sounds very, very good. (I did notice a momentary audio glitch late in the picture, and I’m guessing that might be a flaw from the source material.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts an audio commentary hosted by journalists/authors Bryan Reesman and Max Evry along with some promotional trailers for fans to review.
Highly recommended.
As Spy Hunt (1950) was packaged as part of a collection of film noirs, I’ll have to admit that – of the three – it was the strongest of the bunch, damn near head-and-shoulders over its partnered flicks. Some of this is owed to the fact that the script combines elements of a straight action picture with that of a good spy potboiler, and the production clearly benefits from some quality cinematography that takes audiences from darkened city exteriors to the great wide open of the Swiss Alps (or a reasonable facsimile). It also avoids some of the usual melodrama ascribed to so many films of its era. Still, the cast is strong, the action is solid, and good triumphs over evil in the end. What more could you ask for?
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Spy Hunt (1950) – 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
Well, well, well ... what did you do over the Memorial Day weekend?
Longtime readers of SciFiHistory.Net will know that -- when it comes to Science Fiction, Fantasy, Horror, and even Reality -- I do take my various fascinations very seriously, and I've always confessed -- whenever asked -- to having been a lifelong fan of UFOlogy as well. While never having seen a flying saucer myself, I've read countless books examining the whole affair, and I've come to the conclusion that the truth behind whatever the phenomenon is has to be something vastly more complex than perhaps society has ever considered. Yes, yes, yes, I say this knowing that there are cases that most likely are little more than clever hoaxes, but the vast majority of the unexplained accounts still need the sometimes dry examination of science even though (ahem) scientists consider the subject well beneath them. Sad. Very sad, indeed.
Still, it's understandable how a guy like me could be interested in saucers, ships, and the supernatural; so over the weekend the wifey was kind enough to drag me to Scottsdale, Arizona (of all places) for a tour of The UFO Experience. It's a somewhat kitschy attraction that -- on the surface -- folks might think was designed for kids. Being part of a location popular with families (including an aquarium, a butterfly attraction, and a few other haunts), it certainly is a premium (and modestly expensive) place to go, and -- yes -- one might argue that even the UFO Experience is a bit pricey given the lack of definitive proof into the whole field of the flying saucers. I can assure you that as far as the wifey and I are concerned? We had a blast.
Longtime readers of SciFiHistory.Net will know that -- when it comes to Science Fiction, Fantasy, Horror, and even Reality -- I do take my various fascinations very seriously, and I've always confessed -- whenever asked -- to having been a lifelong fan of UFOlogy as well. While never having seen a flying saucer myself, I've read countless books examining the whole affair, and I've come to the conclusion that the truth behind whatever the phenomenon is has to be something vastly more complex than perhaps society has ever considered. Yes, yes, yes, I say this knowing that there are cases that most likely are little more than clever hoaxes, but the vast majority of the unexplained accounts still need the sometimes dry examination of science even though (ahem) scientists consider the subject well beneath them. Sad. Very sad, indeed.
Still, it's understandable how a guy like me could be interested in saucers, ships, and the supernatural; so over the weekend the wifey was kind enough to drag me to Scottsdale, Arizona (of all places) for a tour of The UFO Experience. It's a somewhat kitschy attraction that -- on the surface -- folks might think was designed for kids. Being part of a location popular with families (including an aquarium, a butterfly attraction, and a few other haunts), it certainly is a premium (and modestly expensive) place to go, and -- yes -- one might argue that even the UFO Experience is a bit pricey given the lack of definitive proof into the whole field of the flying saucers. I can assure you that as far as the wifey and I are concerned? We had a blast.
I bring it up in this space today because -- quite frankly -- it is a destination that serious fans of SciFi might want to know about if for no other reason than it clearly was crafted to harness the appeal of our genre. There are a good handful of -- ahem -- life-sized aliens both outside and within the establishment, meaning that you can of course pose with any number of those nefarious little green men (from Mars, don't you know) for pictures. There's even a reasonably large replica of a flying saucer along the thoroughfare out front that makes a great spot for pics. And folks who want to pay for the premium package can even pay a little extra for a posed snap with some very authentic-looking ones, but we passed on that opportunity, instead just wishing to take a gander into what the place holds.
The UFO Experience begins in a little ampitheater wherein the seated audience is given a bit of an introduction to the place. While it would've been nice for the facility to, perhaps, have given a stronger set-up for the whole of the UFO phenomenon, this video really is a bit more kiddie-focused, pretty much boiling the topic down to mysterious lights in the sky, a few CGI graphics of space travel, and a single Man-In-Black who kinda/sorta promises to keep an eye on your while you're under his roof. Again, it's clever -- very kid-friendly -- but nothing in-depth or earth-shattering. Not exactly what I was expecting, but it's heart was in the right place, after all.
The UFO Experience begins in a little ampitheater wherein the seated audience is given a bit of an introduction to the place. While it would've been nice for the facility to, perhaps, have given a stronger set-up for the whole of the UFO phenomenon, this video really is a bit more kiddie-focused, pretty much boiling the topic down to mysterious lights in the sky, a few CGI graphics of space travel, and a single Man-In-Black who kinda/sorta promises to keep an eye on your while you're under his roof. Again, it's clever -- very kid-friendly -- but nothing in-depth or earth-shattering. Not exactly what I was expecting, but it's heart was in the right place, after all.
After the introduction, you're pretty much on your own to wander the place at your own pace, which is always nice. There are dozens of wall placards to read from, and the venue is dissected (pun intended) into several major sections, each kinda/sorta focusing on one area of the larger phenomenon. For example, there's one area focused on sightings -- including a listening post where you can hear from 911 audio involving reported UFOs -- and another one on abductions. There's a section on the whole Ancient Aliens aspect -- that is, actually, probably the highlight (for me) of the little tour) -- and then a great deal of fodder centered on UFO tie-ins to pop culture (movies and television shows). There's even a room -- don't ask me to explain this or why it's here except for the kiddies -- that simulates what it would be like walking on the moon, and it boils down to little more than an indoors bouncy house ... not that I'm complaining.
Yes, I took a walk on the moon. Why do you ask?
There are even a few audiovisual attractions wherein you can sit and watch such things as U.S. Congressional hearings into the subject of UFOs. The chamber focused on abductions has a few small video features -- they highlight the Betty and Barney Hill story along with the Travis Walton affair -- but those were in use while we were there so I couldn't get a seat to check them out. But the real focus throughout the exhibit is on reading the wall materials, and -- to be fair -- there is plenty to read. Nothing goes to any great depth, but if you're like me you make the most of what there is.
Yes, I took a walk on the moon. Why do you ask?
There are even a few audiovisual attractions wherein you can sit and watch such things as U.S. Congressional hearings into the subject of UFOs. The chamber focused on abductions has a few small video features -- they highlight the Betty and Barney Hill story along with the Travis Walton affair -- but those were in use while we were there so I couldn't get a seat to check them out. But the real focus throughout the exhibit is on reading the wall materials, and -- to be fair -- there is plenty to read. Nothing goes to any great depth, but if you're like me you make the most of what there is.
As I said, the UFO Experience certainly makes the most out of aliens and/or alien-themed ties to pop culture, so there are a few smaller areas that focus on movies. Alien (1979) and Aliens (1986) definitely get a bit of coverage, as does The Terminator with an assortment of movie props here and there. It was curious that they'd still incorporate such obvious fiction right smack dab in the middle of some stuff involving the alleged 1947 UFO recovery from Roswell, New Mexico -- almost as if the curators are trying to suggest that Roswell is a bit of fiction (???) -- but it does make for a nice display. Someone has certainly made a nice investment in the space, and -- for genre fans -- it makes for a welcome distraction.
All-in-all, the wifey and I spent about 90 minutes in the place, and that includes nosing around its way-too-small gift shop. (I was hoping for a greater assortment of books to check out, but I did find something from Nick Redfern that I don't have in my collection so I made the purchase.) Honestly, we could've been there longer -- had we invested time in the audio/visual spots -- but they were occupied, and neither of us like to be perceived as 'Lookie Lous' while others are partaking of them. While some might not find it as good a value for their money, I did think it was worthwhile, mostly because (as I've already disclosed) I've always been in to this kind of thing. Yes, it could've used a bit more depth here-and-there, but as a tourist-style attraction dedicated to shininig just enough light on one of mankind's enduring mysteries? It works very well for casual observers.
All-in-all, the wifey and I spent about 90 minutes in the place, and that includes nosing around its way-too-small gift shop. (I was hoping for a greater assortment of books to check out, but I did find something from Nick Redfern that I don't have in my collection so I made the purchase.) Honestly, we could've been there longer -- had we invested time in the audio/visual spots -- but they were occupied, and neither of us like to be perceived as 'Lookie Lous' while others are partaking of them. While some might not find it as good a value for their money, I did think it was worthwhile, mostly because (as I've already disclosed) I've always been in to this kind of thing. Yes, it could've used a bit more depth here-and-there, but as a tourist-style attraction dedicated to shininig just enough light on one of mankind's enduring mysteries? It works very well for casual observers.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
-- EZ
- Published on
One of my greatest laments as I get older is that I don’t have as much time to read as I used to.
Back in the 1990’s – for example – I made it a personal goal to read a minimum of one book a month. This lasted for about a year, at which point I realized it had grown too easy an accomplishment, so I raised it to two books a month … only to raise that to three books … at which point I think I probably topped out for about a decade. It felt good – the brain was always working, and the ideas were always flowing – but it just couldn’t sustain itself. Activities started to pull me away from my routine reading time, and – over the last decade – I’ve struggled to get back on track. The greatest motivation is that I’ve fully committed myself to reading only that which truly interests me any longer; this has definitely forced me to toss a few novels and tomes aside when I reach a point wherein the work fizzles, and I reach for something else. Yes, that might be sad, but it’s helped me – in small ways – to discover that joy of truly appreciating what a good book does for the noggin when given the perfect opportunity.
But because I do tend to gravitate toward subjects I’ve always been interested in, it has grown harder and harder to seek out and find something that appears truly inspired. Too much of non-fiction these days feels very lightweight, so I have found that I rely on other reviews to point me in the direction of something truly riveting … and that’s how I pretty much stumbled into Ross Coulthart’s In Plain Sight. Essentially, it was recommended to me as being a ‘deep dive’ into the world of UFOology and somewhat related sciences; and I supposed that’s an accurate foundation as any. I did have some issues with it – most of which relate to the author’s kinda/sorta curious stances here and there – and I’ll try to offer up a few humble thoughts to those who might be thinking about a purchase and a subsequent read.
For those unaware, Coulthart is an award-winning investigative journalist. Based in Australia (as best as I can say), he’s penned pieces that have found airtime on the popular 60 Minutes and beyond; and his career has certainly been followed by great praise for his ability to parse sense from the nonsense across a variety of subjects. Just how he can to have any fascination with the world of UFOology I’ve not been able to find, but – given his credentials – perhaps that shouldn’t be so alarming in this day and age? Many who’ve reported on science and current events have had greater cause to look into what was once deemed a pretty ‘fringe’ topic, and maybe that’s the introduction into All Things Extraterrestrial that the man needed. Whatever the case, I, for one, am happy he’s shining a bit of light on the whole affair.
Alas, In Plain Sight – while very, very good – is not quite the ‘deep dive’ I had expected. In fact, in many ways, it’s a somewhat superficial exploration and extrapolation of the history of flying saucers, the Men In Black, and many closely related minutiae. I don’t say this as an insult to the book in the slightest because I think – as a starting point – Coulthart’s expose is quite exceptional. Covering nearly a century of our society’s most active years with whatever these things are in the skies and beyond, he rather deftly moves from the earliest days to the present, all the while adding a new twist or turn as, culturally, we’ve taken a step closer to disclosure. Think of this book as a fabulous foundation to the serious study of UFOs and what they might mean, and you’ve got a wonderful starting point. However, more reading will be required for you to achieve the level of a scholar in each of the individual areas of emphasis.
Also, it’s occasionally a bit difficult to grasp exactly whether or not Coulthart accepts the reality of what his work covers. As is so often the case with UFO-related literature, there are no real secrets exposed here – there’s a lot of talk from industry insiders that never quite amounts to much more than hype – and he’s often a bit dour on them. Despite naysaying an awful lot of what has been talked about for decades, Coulthart kinda/sorta dismisses each expert because they’ve failed to deliver, and he only periodically reminds readers that some of these promises relied on others who didn’t ‘put up’ when the opportunity arrived. While, sure, that’s disheartening, I just don’t see that sufficient cause enough to sit back and wait for something else to ignite the phenomenon again. Perhaps we should accept that, at this point, disclosure is a distant reality as the ones with all the secrets have had decades to bury the truth.
Presenting facts is one thing, but the author clearly likes to comment on those facts. In ways, that distracts from the substance already worthy of greater discussion. I’d rather know what we know (minimally) and leave a bit of faith to those out there trying to shake reality up, but I realize – especially for someone who is an authentic investigative reporter – that may never be enough.
Strongly recommended. If you’re hoping for a deep dive, then you might want to look a bit further … but I’d still encourage those of you who like the study of UFOs as much as I do to pick up a copy and peruse. A few of the more current cases get some great writeups in here, and I think they’re owed their own book at some point. In the meantime, this might whet your whistle with anticipation for the next big read, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
-- EZ
Back in the 1990’s – for example – I made it a personal goal to read a minimum of one book a month. This lasted for about a year, at which point I realized it had grown too easy an accomplishment, so I raised it to two books a month … only to raise that to three books … at which point I think I probably topped out for about a decade. It felt good – the brain was always working, and the ideas were always flowing – but it just couldn’t sustain itself. Activities started to pull me away from my routine reading time, and – over the last decade – I’ve struggled to get back on track. The greatest motivation is that I’ve fully committed myself to reading only that which truly interests me any longer; this has definitely forced me to toss a few novels and tomes aside when I reach a point wherein the work fizzles, and I reach for something else. Yes, that might be sad, but it’s helped me – in small ways – to discover that joy of truly appreciating what a good book does for the noggin when given the perfect opportunity.
But because I do tend to gravitate toward subjects I’ve always been interested in, it has grown harder and harder to seek out and find something that appears truly inspired. Too much of non-fiction these days feels very lightweight, so I have found that I rely on other reviews to point me in the direction of something truly riveting … and that’s how I pretty much stumbled into Ross Coulthart’s In Plain Sight. Essentially, it was recommended to me as being a ‘deep dive’ into the world of UFOology and somewhat related sciences; and I supposed that’s an accurate foundation as any. I did have some issues with it – most of which relate to the author’s kinda/sorta curious stances here and there – and I’ll try to offer up a few humble thoughts to those who might be thinking about a purchase and a subsequent read.
For those unaware, Coulthart is an award-winning investigative journalist. Based in Australia (as best as I can say), he’s penned pieces that have found airtime on the popular 60 Minutes and beyond; and his career has certainly been followed by great praise for his ability to parse sense from the nonsense across a variety of subjects. Just how he can to have any fascination with the world of UFOology I’ve not been able to find, but – given his credentials – perhaps that shouldn’t be so alarming in this day and age? Many who’ve reported on science and current events have had greater cause to look into what was once deemed a pretty ‘fringe’ topic, and maybe that’s the introduction into All Things Extraterrestrial that the man needed. Whatever the case, I, for one, am happy he’s shining a bit of light on the whole affair.
Alas, In Plain Sight – while very, very good – is not quite the ‘deep dive’ I had expected. In fact, in many ways, it’s a somewhat superficial exploration and extrapolation of the history of flying saucers, the Men In Black, and many closely related minutiae. I don’t say this as an insult to the book in the slightest because I think – as a starting point – Coulthart’s expose is quite exceptional. Covering nearly a century of our society’s most active years with whatever these things are in the skies and beyond, he rather deftly moves from the earliest days to the present, all the while adding a new twist or turn as, culturally, we’ve taken a step closer to disclosure. Think of this book as a fabulous foundation to the serious study of UFOs and what they might mean, and you’ve got a wonderful starting point. However, more reading will be required for you to achieve the level of a scholar in each of the individual areas of emphasis.
Also, it’s occasionally a bit difficult to grasp exactly whether or not Coulthart accepts the reality of what his work covers. As is so often the case with UFO-related literature, there are no real secrets exposed here – there’s a lot of talk from industry insiders that never quite amounts to much more than hype – and he’s often a bit dour on them. Despite naysaying an awful lot of what has been talked about for decades, Coulthart kinda/sorta dismisses each expert because they’ve failed to deliver, and he only periodically reminds readers that some of these promises relied on others who didn’t ‘put up’ when the opportunity arrived. While, sure, that’s disheartening, I just don’t see that sufficient cause enough to sit back and wait for something else to ignite the phenomenon again. Perhaps we should accept that, at this point, disclosure is a distant reality as the ones with all the secrets have had decades to bury the truth.
Presenting facts is one thing, but the author clearly likes to comment on those facts. In ways, that distracts from the substance already worthy of greater discussion. I’d rather know what we know (minimally) and leave a bit of faith to those out there trying to shake reality up, but I realize – especially for someone who is an authentic investigative reporter – that may never be enough.
Strongly recommended. If you’re hoping for a deep dive, then you might want to look a bit further … but I’d still encourage those of you who like the study of UFOs as much as I do to pick up a copy and peruse. A few of the more current cases get some great writeups in here, and I think they’re owed their own book at some point. In the meantime, this might whet your whistle with anticipation for the next big read, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
-- EZ