- 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 my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A reporter who has had an affair with the daughter of the U.S. President is sent to Hungary. There he is bitten by a werewolf, and then gets transferred back to Washington, where he gets a job as press assistant to the President. Then bodies start turning up in D.C. …”
If one were to strip away any of the modern veneer found in writer/director Milton Moses Ginsberg’s The Werewolf Of Washington down to its bones, then you’d be left with the reality that – at its core – his film is honestly little more than a clever riff on the Universal Pictures’ 1941 landmark Horror/Classic The Wolf Man (starring the great Claude Rains and Lon Chaney, Jr.). Scene by scene, it pretty much matches thematically the original – even calling to mind that slow-dissolve camera trickery of the man-to-wolf transformation sequences – never veering off into unexplored territory or deviating from the formula in any measurable way. So … perhaps not all that much has really changed in the roughly three decades passage of time between that and this theatrical rehash set against the backdrop of U.S. politics? I suppose that’s as true as it is false; still, there’s an awful lot of interesting observations that could be made about monsters and men, especially when the world’s highest seats of power tend to be occupied by villains of their own respective eras.
What more is there to Werewolf than Ginsberg’s prescience?
Well … really … not much.
I sat through the director’s cut of the project (why wouldn’t I given the fact that in the materials provided he insists it’s his preferred version?), and – at 74 minutes – there isn’t much of a bloody carcass one can sink his teeth into as perhaps the auteur thought or intended. As I said, structurally, it largely parallels the journey of the first or practically any werewolf-sufferer (boy meets wolf, boy gets bit, boy becomes wolf, etc.). The fact that there’s a void of side stories and/or secondary ideas becomes pretty clear as bodies start piling up in the second half. While that’s not a complaint, per se, it’s still not a ringing endorsement; and I can’t help but wonder if some of the flick’s negative being lost for so many years truly served it best. Forgotten and/or misplaced gems usually look better in memory than they do on screens big and small, and maybe its protracted absence truly made those hearts grow fonder than was necessary.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A reporter who has had an affair with the daughter of the U.S. President is sent to Hungary. There he is bitten by a werewolf, and then gets transferred back to Washington, where he gets a job as press assistant to the President. Then bodies start turning up in D.C. …”
If one were to strip away any of the modern veneer found in writer/director Milton Moses Ginsberg’s The Werewolf Of Washington down to its bones, then you’d be left with the reality that – at its core – his film is honestly little more than a clever riff on the Universal Pictures’ 1941 landmark Horror/Classic The Wolf Man (starring the great Claude Rains and Lon Chaney, Jr.). Scene by scene, it pretty much matches thematically the original – even calling to mind that slow-dissolve camera trickery of the man-to-wolf transformation sequences – never veering off into unexplored territory or deviating from the formula in any measurable way. So … perhaps not all that much has really changed in the roughly three decades passage of time between that and this theatrical rehash set against the backdrop of U.S. politics? I suppose that’s as true as it is false; still, there’s an awful lot of interesting observations that could be made about monsters and men, especially when the world’s highest seats of power tend to be occupied by villains of their own respective eras.
What more is there to Werewolf than Ginsberg’s prescience?
Well … really … not much.
I sat through the director’s cut of the project (why wouldn’t I given the fact that in the materials provided he insists it’s his preferred version?), and – at 74 minutes – there isn’t much of a bloody carcass one can sink his teeth into as perhaps the auteur thought or intended. As I said, structurally, it largely parallels the journey of the first or practically any werewolf-sufferer (boy meets wolf, boy gets bit, boy becomes wolf, etc.). The fact that there’s a void of side stories and/or secondary ideas becomes pretty clear as bodies start piling up in the second half. While that’s not a complaint, per se, it’s still not a ringing endorsement; and I can’t help but wonder if some of the flick’s negative being lost for so many years truly served it best. Forgotten and/or misplaced gems usually look better in memory than they do on screens big and small, and maybe its protracted absence truly made those hearts grow fonder than was necessary.
Dean Stockwell turns in a solid work as the film’s lead. (In fact, I’d argue that his participation is probably the greatest reason to see this one.) His ‘Jack Whittier’ kinda/sorta gives the appearance of a Washington toadie at times; as a consequence, his moments of growing anxiety over turning into the nocturnal carnivore probably evokes the right amount of sympathy and disgust, just as Chaney’s had done years earlier. Katalin Kallay – in her only screen role of record as per IMDB.com – never quite invokes much emotion in her few scenes; while there’s clearly a hint of lingering affection for Jack (as her former suitor), nothing she does or says rises to the level of re-establishing her desire to reconcile. It's almost as if her dialogue were manufactured on-the-fly. As the President of the United States, Biff McGuire admirably vacillates between reckless bravado and cluelessness, mimicking the popular opinion of failed President Richard Nixon to which I believe Ginsberg alludes. Clifton James – filmdom’s ubiquitous big-hearted Southern gentleman/hick – hits his mark as the Attorney General who wants all of this messy mystery to go away.
And … kudos to anyone watching as closely as I did in spotting the masterful James Tolkan as a sunglasses-wearing agent/heavy who may or may not be serving these elected officials.
In the film’s opening remarks, Ginsberg explains that – in all of history – he’d never been so troubled as he had over The Wolf Man and Watergate, so it’s understandably why he sought out to exorcise these demons and tried to do it simultaneously. (There’s a fabulous sequence wherein our beloved werewolf seemingly finds a curiously short scientist played by Michael Dunn practicing some arcane work in what may’ve been the White House basement. Though the vignette gets a bit of a coda with the President – who gets summarily dismissed by Dunn in no small measure – it practically screams for wider context. Alas, none is provided.) Ginsberg pays homage to these moments more than he maligns them, though I can’t help but wonder if he intended something other with respect to the mocked political shenanigans. While he doesn’t quite hit the mark, I think he missed the bull’s-eye by an appreciable margin, but the Werewolf still makes for an easy one-off for anyone whose interested is piqued by the premise.
Some days, there’s nothing at all wrong with that.
The Werewolf Of Washington (1973) was produced by Diplomat Pictures / Millco. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated via the good people at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? The product packaging states that this release includes both a special director’s cut as well as a 2K restoration of the 1973 theatrical print; and – while I’m no trained video expert – I thought that the sights and sounds were quite good. Naturally, there are a few sequences that seem a bit underwhelming; but there’s nothing that overwhelming distracts from the quality of the picture. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? There’s a brief (8 minutes) interview with Ginsberg; yes, it’s nice, but it’s short on substance, heavier on opinion. Also, there’s an interesting critical discussion between film scholars Simon Abrams and Sheila O’Malley (20 minutes) that mostly serves to put the film and its star – Stockwell – in the broader context of history; clearly, both are fond of the picture, and their enthusiasm makes for a solid short.
(Mildly) Recommended.
What one inevitably thinks about The Werewolf Of Washington will likely some ways be tied up with how much credit and/or interest gets prescribed by the obvious political allegory. Did it work, and was the comparison worthwhile? For me, I guess it worked just fine, but I just didn’t see Ginsberg’s script as being all that revelatory as it’s a pretty easy association to draw. (Politicians have always been monsters, right?) Had he taken the rest of the affair in some other direction, then perhaps I’d feel differently. Stockwell turns in some good work – perhaps a bit misdirected in some scenes – and it’s a passable enough affair to endure.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of The Werewolf Of Washington (1973) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
And … kudos to anyone watching as closely as I did in spotting the masterful James Tolkan as a sunglasses-wearing agent/heavy who may or may not be serving these elected officials.
In the film’s opening remarks, Ginsberg explains that – in all of history – he’d never been so troubled as he had over The Wolf Man and Watergate, so it’s understandably why he sought out to exorcise these demons and tried to do it simultaneously. (There’s a fabulous sequence wherein our beloved werewolf seemingly finds a curiously short scientist played by Michael Dunn practicing some arcane work in what may’ve been the White House basement. Though the vignette gets a bit of a coda with the President – who gets summarily dismissed by Dunn in no small measure – it practically screams for wider context. Alas, none is provided.) Ginsberg pays homage to these moments more than he maligns them, though I can’t help but wonder if he intended something other with respect to the mocked political shenanigans. While he doesn’t quite hit the mark, I think he missed the bull’s-eye by an appreciable margin, but the Werewolf still makes for an easy one-off for anyone whose interested is piqued by the premise.
Some days, there’s nothing at all wrong with that.
The Werewolf Of Washington (1973) was produced by Diplomat Pictures / Millco. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated via the good people at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? The product packaging states that this release includes both a special director’s cut as well as a 2K restoration of the 1973 theatrical print; and – while I’m no trained video expert – I thought that the sights and sounds were quite good. Naturally, there are a few sequences that seem a bit underwhelming; but there’s nothing that overwhelming distracts from the quality of the picture. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? There’s a brief (8 minutes) interview with Ginsberg; yes, it’s nice, but it’s short on substance, heavier on opinion. Also, there’s an interesting critical discussion between film scholars Simon Abrams and Sheila O’Malley (20 minutes) that mostly serves to put the film and its star – Stockwell – in the broader context of history; clearly, both are fond of the picture, and their enthusiasm makes for a solid short.
(Mildly) Recommended.
What one inevitably thinks about The Werewolf Of Washington will likely some ways be tied up with how much credit and/or interest gets prescribed by the obvious political allegory. Did it work, and was the comparison worthwhile? For me, I guess it worked just fine, but I just didn’t see Ginsberg’s script as being all that revelatory as it’s a pretty easy association to draw. (Politicians have always been monsters, right?) Had he taken the rest of the affair in some other direction, then perhaps I’d feel differently. Stockwell turns in some good work – perhaps a bit misdirected in some scenes – and it’s a passable enough affair to endure.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of The Werewolf Of Washington (1973) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
Is there anything yet new and innovative that can be found within that unique sub-culture of filmmaking: the found footage flick?
Meh.
Methinks that, as a narrative device, it’s just about run its course.
Now, that doesn’t mean that Hollywood won’t continue turning them out: most appear to be relatively low-budget exercises that could be high on the R.O.I. (Return On Investment). And, personally, I wouldn’t want them to stop making them. I enjoy them well enough (as anyone who has followed my reviews will tell you); I just wish they’d put a bit more thought into the stories.
Found footage works just fine as the gimmick, but, in the end, it’s characters that make them worthwhile.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and characters. If you’re the kind of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last three paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
Liz (a perfectly mousey Erin Way) loses her baby in an unexplained miscarriage, putting her husband Rick (Eric Matheny) and her brother Evan (Ryan Smale) in the untenable position of helping her get her life back together and carry on. Trying to capture some home memories as well as practicing his art as a film student, Evan opts to videotape their experiences. Together, the three escape the city for the peace and quiet of a rural cabin. However, as the days wear on, it becomes increasingly clear that something dark and sinister may be afoot involving Liz, Rick, and the disappeared fetus.
On a mostly visceral level, Absence works just fine.
There’s nothing all that grand here, other than a few surprises with some clever special effects, exactly the kind of thing audiences have come to expect from “found footage.” However, to writer/director Jimmy Loweree’s credit, he tries to give his film a bit more substance, choosing to make Evan a film student hoping to capture the emotional experience of what his sister has gone through (and continues to recover from) as one of his personal “projects.” Unfortunately, where this causes the film to break down is that Evan spends far too much time filming the insignificant minutiae of everyday life and not enough time just sitting and chatting with his sister and her husband. Those scenes – in particular, the ones involving Liz’s personal struggle – are quite good, quite stirring, as Way works wonders with the nuances of a broken soul who can’t understand what she’s been through. In what could’ve been a real breakthrough performance for a gifted actress, the audience is only teased; instead, we’re served up useless footage of shakycam going this way, shakycam going that way, and Evan’s attempts to seduce a local girl (Megan, played by Stephanie Scholz) to be his temporary squeeze.
Given the limitations of this story (as opposed to one that could’ve been) Absence clocks in at 90 minutes, and that’s simply 30 minutes too long to sustain my active interest. Throughout the latter half, I started fast-forwarding once I realized I wasn’t missing all that much from so much exposition surrounding so little interest.
Still, I’ve seen far worse found footage than what’s inevitably delivered. I only wish that Loweree and his team’s vision had extended beyond the flash and sizzle of this particular type of narrative in favor of turning out something a bit more memorable. Those Paranormal Activity films really have this kind of film down to a science; Loweree’s had the potential to expand upon the human component, especially with Way’s gifts as an actress, and I would’ve liked to see more of that.
Absence (2013) is produced by Radcliffe Pictures. DVD distribution is being handled by Cinedigm Entertainment Group. As for the technical specifications, the video looks and sounds probably as well as the screenwriter and director intended it: this is one of those “found footage” films, so one can expect a certain amount of graininess, televised ‘snow,’ and the usual trickery in advancing the story. As for the special features, the disc comes with a director’s commentary, a ‘making of’ short, and the theatrical trailer: it’s a nice collection for those genuinely interested in knowing a bit more about the story.
(Mildly) Recommended.
While Absence probably won’t burn up the video charts, it’s certainly an acceptable one-off rental for those who have a legitimate interest in “found footage” films, though I can’t imagine anyone disinterested in them will find much to enjoy here. As hard as writer/director Jimmy Loweree tries to make these characters more accessible to whatever audience he hoped to gather, Absence works only as yet one more experience in the genre. You can think of it as the set-up for a really great episode of The X-Files because it’s essentially the subject matter one would find FBI agents Mulder and Scully following up on, so if a twist of the paranormal is your thing, then you’ll enjoy this more than most.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Cinedigm Entertainment Group provided me with a DVD copy of Absence by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.
-- EZ
Meh.
Methinks that, as a narrative device, it’s just about run its course.
Now, that doesn’t mean that Hollywood won’t continue turning them out: most appear to be relatively low-budget exercises that could be high on the R.O.I. (Return On Investment). And, personally, I wouldn’t want them to stop making them. I enjoy them well enough (as anyone who has followed my reviews will tell you); I just wish they’d put a bit more thought into the stories.
Found footage works just fine as the gimmick, but, in the end, it’s characters that make them worthwhile.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and characters. If you’re the kind of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last three paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
Liz (a perfectly mousey Erin Way) loses her baby in an unexplained miscarriage, putting her husband Rick (Eric Matheny) and her brother Evan (Ryan Smale) in the untenable position of helping her get her life back together and carry on. Trying to capture some home memories as well as practicing his art as a film student, Evan opts to videotape their experiences. Together, the three escape the city for the peace and quiet of a rural cabin. However, as the days wear on, it becomes increasingly clear that something dark and sinister may be afoot involving Liz, Rick, and the disappeared fetus.
On a mostly visceral level, Absence works just fine.
There’s nothing all that grand here, other than a few surprises with some clever special effects, exactly the kind of thing audiences have come to expect from “found footage.” However, to writer/director Jimmy Loweree’s credit, he tries to give his film a bit more substance, choosing to make Evan a film student hoping to capture the emotional experience of what his sister has gone through (and continues to recover from) as one of his personal “projects.” Unfortunately, where this causes the film to break down is that Evan spends far too much time filming the insignificant minutiae of everyday life and not enough time just sitting and chatting with his sister and her husband. Those scenes – in particular, the ones involving Liz’s personal struggle – are quite good, quite stirring, as Way works wonders with the nuances of a broken soul who can’t understand what she’s been through. In what could’ve been a real breakthrough performance for a gifted actress, the audience is only teased; instead, we’re served up useless footage of shakycam going this way, shakycam going that way, and Evan’s attempts to seduce a local girl (Megan, played by Stephanie Scholz) to be his temporary squeeze.
Given the limitations of this story (as opposed to one that could’ve been) Absence clocks in at 90 minutes, and that’s simply 30 minutes too long to sustain my active interest. Throughout the latter half, I started fast-forwarding once I realized I wasn’t missing all that much from so much exposition surrounding so little interest.
Still, I’ve seen far worse found footage than what’s inevitably delivered. I only wish that Loweree and his team’s vision had extended beyond the flash and sizzle of this particular type of narrative in favor of turning out something a bit more memorable. Those Paranormal Activity films really have this kind of film down to a science; Loweree’s had the potential to expand upon the human component, especially with Way’s gifts as an actress, and I would’ve liked to see more of that.
Absence (2013) is produced by Radcliffe Pictures. DVD distribution is being handled by Cinedigm Entertainment Group. As for the technical specifications, the video looks and sounds probably as well as the screenwriter and director intended it: this is one of those “found footage” films, so one can expect a certain amount of graininess, televised ‘snow,’ and the usual trickery in advancing the story. As for the special features, the disc comes with a director’s commentary, a ‘making of’ short, and the theatrical trailer: it’s a nice collection for those genuinely interested in knowing a bit more about the story.
(Mildly) Recommended.
While Absence probably won’t burn up the video charts, it’s certainly an acceptable one-off rental for those who have a legitimate interest in “found footage” films, though I can’t imagine anyone disinterested in them will find much to enjoy here. As hard as writer/director Jimmy Loweree tries to make these characters more accessible to whatever audience he hoped to gather, Absence works only as yet one more experience in the genre. You can think of it as the set-up for a really great episode of The X-Files because it’s essentially the subject matter one would find FBI agents Mulder and Scully following up on, so if a twist of the paranormal is your thing, then you’ll enjoy this more than most.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Cinedigm Entertainment Group provided me with a DVD copy of Absence by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.
-- EZ
- Published on
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging:
“After two impoverished teenage brothers flee home to escape their physically abusive father, they hope to find and reunite with their estranged mother and embark on a dangerous journey to a cursed forest in Northwestern Pennsylvania, not aware that she has become a disciple of a violent and sadistic cult that dwells there.”
If that synopsis reads like a bit of a run-on sentence, then wait until you see the film!
Because I do so very much love a good indie feature – much more than so many others on the Information Superhighway these days – it troubles me personally to have so little to say positive with regards to The Long Dark Trail. Going in, I think it had an interesting set-up, but the writing/directing team of Nick Psinakis and Kevin Ignatius really don’t deliver anything relevant with that tricky reveal, perhaps leaving the audience with more questions than they do answers … and that’s never a good thing in something chiefly advertised as a Horror feature. It’s a bit difficult to discern when and where this story begins, and – once the credits roll – methinks it’s very clear that it ain’t quite over … not, at least for the two leads.
Brady O’Donnell and Carter O’Donnell play the singular brothers-on-the-run, wholly interested on leaving behind the abusive relationship they have with their father. What I can’t figure out – so far as the plot provides in this 78 minute flick – is why they believed their life would be any brighter with the mother who allegedly deserted them years before. Granted, I get perfectly well that their options were limited, and it isn’t as if they had a lot of places to go; but whatever happened to going to the authorities and turning yourself over to the social welfare system? Clearly, the one boy’s pronounced scarring from a hot iron would be of interest to Child Protective Services, and the fact that there was absolutely no attempt to fill this rather obvious plot hole seems like a big miss by all involved.
Furthermore, just what in the Holy Hell is this nearby cult’s business? Again, don’t get me wrong, but – generally speaking – cults have some kind of dogma that they practice. They have their own rules, their own internal social structure, and they usually have a commitment to some loose principles, be that ‘worshipping The Father’ or waiting for the world to finally come to its bitter end so that can ascend or whatever else. These ladies – of which there are many – spend their time in tatters of their own making (it would seem), all seemingly in love with a guy named Zeke … and Zeke’s only commitment would appear to be sacrificing young men so that he can gain their life force or something. It’s all a bit too vague for my liking.
Therein lies The Long Dark Trail’s biggest problem: like a bad trail through the woods, the creative crew have really left no bread crumbs for the viewers to follow. Everything is a bit vague as Psinakis and Ignatius only seem concerned with layered on more atmosphere. Yes, a general sense of creepiness pervades the project, but when all I can do is wonder what I’m supposed to make of all of this once it fades to black, then somewhere along the way it would’ve been nice if this path had even one trailmarker to steer me in the right direction. At times, it’s an almost hallucinogenic mix, and the fact that the boys pretty much wind up exactly where they started (if that’s what truly happened) then what – pray tell – was the purpose of the journey?
Just to fill up 78 minutes?
I’m always willing to reverse my take if I’ve somehow missed the particulars as supplied by the script, and who knows? Maybe that’s what happened here. Maybe I just missed it. Maybe this one just wasn’t for me. Maybe it all makes perfect sense, and perhaps I somehow got lost on the trail. Given the fact that there’s so very little dialogue – something I’m much more drawn to in storytelling than I am imagery – I’m ok if I have to chalk this one up to my own confusion.
The Long Dark Trail (2022) was produced by Four Eighteen Films. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good people at MVD Visual with some participation from Cleopatra Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the sights and sounds of the film were surprisingly good, especially for an independent feature. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? There are some bloopers, some very brief behind-the-scenes, and a director’s interview, but it’s all extremely short.
(Mildly) Recommended.
The Long Dark Trail is a hard one to fully endorse. Rather than present a straight-forward chronological story with a clear cause-and-effect structure, this one kinda/sorta unspools a bit more experimental in nature. The opening scenes aren’t quite resolved until the big finish; and – even then – there’s really so little narrative information provided that I’m more perplexed by all of it than intrigued. Perhaps if the writing/directing team of Ignatius and Psinakis had developed a bit more story than what they delivered, then their boys’ journey might’ve been a bit more impactful. As is? Well, it’s a bit of a slough.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at MVD Visual provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Long Dark Trail by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
From the product packaging:
“After two impoverished teenage brothers flee home to escape their physically abusive father, they hope to find and reunite with their estranged mother and embark on a dangerous journey to a cursed forest in Northwestern Pennsylvania, not aware that she has become a disciple of a violent and sadistic cult that dwells there.”
If that synopsis reads like a bit of a run-on sentence, then wait until you see the film!
Because I do so very much love a good indie feature – much more than so many others on the Information Superhighway these days – it troubles me personally to have so little to say positive with regards to The Long Dark Trail. Going in, I think it had an interesting set-up, but the writing/directing team of Nick Psinakis and Kevin Ignatius really don’t deliver anything relevant with that tricky reveal, perhaps leaving the audience with more questions than they do answers … and that’s never a good thing in something chiefly advertised as a Horror feature. It’s a bit difficult to discern when and where this story begins, and – once the credits roll – methinks it’s very clear that it ain’t quite over … not, at least for the two leads.
Brady O’Donnell and Carter O’Donnell play the singular brothers-on-the-run, wholly interested on leaving behind the abusive relationship they have with their father. What I can’t figure out – so far as the plot provides in this 78 minute flick – is why they believed their life would be any brighter with the mother who allegedly deserted them years before. Granted, I get perfectly well that their options were limited, and it isn’t as if they had a lot of places to go; but whatever happened to going to the authorities and turning yourself over to the social welfare system? Clearly, the one boy’s pronounced scarring from a hot iron would be of interest to Child Protective Services, and the fact that there was absolutely no attempt to fill this rather obvious plot hole seems like a big miss by all involved.
Furthermore, just what in the Holy Hell is this nearby cult’s business? Again, don’t get me wrong, but – generally speaking – cults have some kind of dogma that they practice. They have their own rules, their own internal social structure, and they usually have a commitment to some loose principles, be that ‘worshipping The Father’ or waiting for the world to finally come to its bitter end so that can ascend or whatever else. These ladies – of which there are many – spend their time in tatters of their own making (it would seem), all seemingly in love with a guy named Zeke … and Zeke’s only commitment would appear to be sacrificing young men so that he can gain their life force or something. It’s all a bit too vague for my liking.
Therein lies The Long Dark Trail’s biggest problem: like a bad trail through the woods, the creative crew have really left no bread crumbs for the viewers to follow. Everything is a bit vague as Psinakis and Ignatius only seem concerned with layered on more atmosphere. Yes, a general sense of creepiness pervades the project, but when all I can do is wonder what I’m supposed to make of all of this once it fades to black, then somewhere along the way it would’ve been nice if this path had even one trailmarker to steer me in the right direction. At times, it’s an almost hallucinogenic mix, and the fact that the boys pretty much wind up exactly where they started (if that’s what truly happened) then what – pray tell – was the purpose of the journey?
Just to fill up 78 minutes?
I’m always willing to reverse my take if I’ve somehow missed the particulars as supplied by the script, and who knows? Maybe that’s what happened here. Maybe I just missed it. Maybe this one just wasn’t for me. Maybe it all makes perfect sense, and perhaps I somehow got lost on the trail. Given the fact that there’s so very little dialogue – something I’m much more drawn to in storytelling than I am imagery – I’m ok if I have to chalk this one up to my own confusion.
The Long Dark Trail (2022) was produced by Four Eighteen Films. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good people at MVD Visual with some participation from Cleopatra Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the sights and sounds of the film were surprisingly good, especially for an independent feature. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? There are some bloopers, some very brief behind-the-scenes, and a director’s interview, but it’s all extremely short.
(Mildly) Recommended.
The Long Dark Trail is a hard one to fully endorse. Rather than present a straight-forward chronological story with a clear cause-and-effect structure, this one kinda/sorta unspools a bit more experimental in nature. The opening scenes aren’t quite resolved until the big finish; and – even then – there’s really so little narrative information provided that I’m more perplexed by all of it than intrigued. Perhaps if the writing/directing team of Ignatius and Psinakis had developed a bit more story than what they delivered, then their boys’ journey might’ve been a bit more impactful. As is? Well, it’s a bit of a slough.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at MVD Visual provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Long Dark Trail by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
"If you tell a lie that's big enough, and you tell it often enough, people will believe you're telling the truth, even if what you're saying is total crap."
-- Richard Belzer (from IMDB.com)
-- Richard Belzer (from IMDB.com)
I do find it vexing how society treats celebrities with a bit of kid gloves at times.
For example, that quote attributed to actor/comedian Richard Belzer from above? To me, something said like that would appear to be common sense, but in today's kinda/sorta 'cancel culture' climate a phrase or a statement or a Tweet like that would get you banned for the spread of either disinformation or misinformation on any major social media platform ... only if it were you and I. The regular folks. People like Belzer or any other established commodity? Well, they can say it all the live long day, and they'll likely suffer no consequences.
Now, don't think I'm throwing sour grapes at Belzer. My sentiment has nothing to do with him -- well, other than the fact that it's something he allegedly said, and I've no reason to doubt it -- and it really only shows the importance we apparently put on free speech: if it comes from our cultural betters, then it's okay. If it comes from the masses-at-large, then it need be suppressed.
Such observations were pretty common in the man's early days. From what I know of him (without any research), he got his start in comedy clubs and the like, eventually garnering a good deal of positive attention from industry types. This brought the man a bit of a second career, that being an actor in films and television; and he enjoyed a fairly long stint aboard some crime procedurals on the Boob Tube in the United States.
As far as his contributions to the world of genre entertainment?
His participation in our flights of fancy are a bit light, but they're equally deserving of a mention in this space.
In 1982, he enjoyed an uncredited appearance as a 'loudmouthed audience member' in Cafe Flesh from Carribbean Films.
In 1991, he found work in an episode of Monsters! before enjoying a recurring stint on the TV's first attempt at bringing DC Comics' The Flash to life in a weekly show. IMDB.com reports that Belzer made ten appearances in the property.
In 1994, Belzer checked in with an impressive four visits to the world of Lois & Clark: The New Adventures Of Superman. In that same year, he enjoyed a stop in the theatrical realm aboard The Puppet Masters for Hollywood Pictures.
1995 was another solid year for Science Fiction for the actor. He enjoyed stops to two alien-themed entities: first, Not Of This Earth for Concorde-New Horizons and then a role in the two-part miniseries updating of The Invaders for television.
But perhaps his most memorable (for me, anyway) was when -- in 1997 -- he flirted with a curious crossover: his TV detective John Munch came aboard an episode of Fox TV's stellar The X-Files for a single episode. And that same year saw the actor playing the U.S. President in Species II for Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.
Alas, none of us lasts forever, and word reached my desk yesterday that the award-nominated actor passed away due to health complications. Thankfully, his work lives on so that it can be discovered by future generations.
As always, thoughts and prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Mr. Belzer. May he rest in peace.
-- EZ
For example, that quote attributed to actor/comedian Richard Belzer from above? To me, something said like that would appear to be common sense, but in today's kinda/sorta 'cancel culture' climate a phrase or a statement or a Tweet like that would get you banned for the spread of either disinformation or misinformation on any major social media platform ... only if it were you and I. The regular folks. People like Belzer or any other established commodity? Well, they can say it all the live long day, and they'll likely suffer no consequences.
Now, don't think I'm throwing sour grapes at Belzer. My sentiment has nothing to do with him -- well, other than the fact that it's something he allegedly said, and I've no reason to doubt it -- and it really only shows the importance we apparently put on free speech: if it comes from our cultural betters, then it's okay. If it comes from the masses-at-large, then it need be suppressed.
Such observations were pretty common in the man's early days. From what I know of him (without any research), he got his start in comedy clubs and the like, eventually garnering a good deal of positive attention from industry types. This brought the man a bit of a second career, that being an actor in films and television; and he enjoyed a fairly long stint aboard some crime procedurals on the Boob Tube in the United States.
As far as his contributions to the world of genre entertainment?
His participation in our flights of fancy are a bit light, but they're equally deserving of a mention in this space.
In 1982, he enjoyed an uncredited appearance as a 'loudmouthed audience member' in Cafe Flesh from Carribbean Films.
In 1991, he found work in an episode of Monsters! before enjoying a recurring stint on the TV's first attempt at bringing DC Comics' The Flash to life in a weekly show. IMDB.com reports that Belzer made ten appearances in the property.
In 1994, Belzer checked in with an impressive four visits to the world of Lois & Clark: The New Adventures Of Superman. In that same year, he enjoyed a stop in the theatrical realm aboard The Puppet Masters for Hollywood Pictures.
1995 was another solid year for Science Fiction for the actor. He enjoyed stops to two alien-themed entities: first, Not Of This Earth for Concorde-New Horizons and then a role in the two-part miniseries updating of The Invaders for television.
But perhaps his most memorable (for me, anyway) was when -- in 1997 -- he flirted with a curious crossover: his TV detective John Munch came aboard an episode of Fox TV's stellar The X-Files for a single episode. And that same year saw the actor playing the U.S. President in Species II for Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.
Alas, none of us lasts forever, and word reached my desk yesterday that the award-nominated actor passed away due to health complications. Thankfully, his work lives on so that it can be discovered by future generations.
As always, thoughts and prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Mr. Belzer. May he rest in peace.
-- EZ
- Published on
"I did the best I could with the tools I had and the opportunities given me. My life was screwed up early by getting pregnant at 15 and married, then a baby at 16, then divorced at 17. But in spite of that start, I've done all right."
-- Stella Stevens, on her career (from IMDB.com)
-- Stella Stevens, on her career (from IMDB.com)
Some online have compared the career of Stella Stevens to that of the late Marilyn Monroe.
Certainly, both were beautiful bombshells of a bygone era, and they largely made their way into the business of entertainment playing characters on screens big and small who weren't above using a bit of their good looks to get what they wanted out of life. Alas, filmmakers usually don't give these actresses the best material to work with -- beauty has its price, after all, and when someone is cast mostly for sex appeal there may not be much else in the script for these ladies to explore. While we might never know the true extent of their acting potential, it's still safe to suggest that they did all was possible to leave their marks whenever given the opportunity.
Still, Stevens contributions to genre entertainment are a bit light, but I'll mention the significant ones I've found on IMDB.com.
Without a doubt, her big introduction to Science Fiction and Fantasy might be the flick she's most remembered for: in 1963, she starred opposite popular funnyman Jerry Lewis aboard The Nutty Professor for Paramount Pictures. In 2004, the feature was inducted into the U.S.'s National Film Registry, the institution which seeks to preserve pictures with an established legacy in all of filmdom.
In 1966, she joined Dean Martin aboard The Silencers, an adaptation of the Matt Helm novel, for Columbia Pictures.
In 1972, she paid a visit to the world of TV's Circle Of Fear anthology program. "The Dead We Leave Behind" saw her cast as a murdered wife whose spirit may or may not have been causing shenanigans from the afterlife to the detriment of her guilty husband.
In 1975, Stevens joined the equally stunning Lynda Carter aboard an episode of TV's popular Wonder Woman. It was a small role aboard the series' pilot -- "The New Original Wonder Woman" -- but it was a great chance to show her skills.
In 1978, she boarded the Cruise Into Terror, a telefilm that saw passengers aboard a cruise ship being adversely effected by some cursed cargo. That same year, she also appeared in The Manitou on the silver screen, a SciFi/Horror hybrid that explored the reincarnation of a 400-year-old Native American spirit.
In 1979, she stepped aboard Supertrain, a short-lived serial that explored stories of those who rode the high-tech transport.
In 1984, Stella and some other beautiful ladies inhabited the Fantasy/Thriller Amazons. Directed by Paul Michael Glaser, the premise saw the fairer sex setting their sights on world domination in a plot to kill off influential male leaders.
1987 saw the actress dipping back into some Comedy/Fantasy with some work in writer/director Bob Dahlin's Monster In The Closet.
In 1991, Stevens appeared as one of the headliners in The Terror Within II, a sequel that only loosely toyed with the original. Interestingly enough, her son -- Andrew Stevens -- starred opposite his mother as well as served as the project's director, his debut behind the camera.
There are a few other smaller vehicles that benefitted from the woman's good graces, but methinks you get the point: Stevens was no stranger to worlds of the fantastical, and I think our genre is better off owed in no small part to some of the contributions she leaves behind for fans to discover in the years ahead.
As always, thoughts and prayers are extended to the friends, family, and fans of Stella Stevens. May she rest in peace.
-- EZ
Certainly, both were beautiful bombshells of a bygone era, and they largely made their way into the business of entertainment playing characters on screens big and small who weren't above using a bit of their good looks to get what they wanted out of life. Alas, filmmakers usually don't give these actresses the best material to work with -- beauty has its price, after all, and when someone is cast mostly for sex appeal there may not be much else in the script for these ladies to explore. While we might never know the true extent of their acting potential, it's still safe to suggest that they did all was possible to leave their marks whenever given the opportunity.
Still, Stevens contributions to genre entertainment are a bit light, but I'll mention the significant ones I've found on IMDB.com.
Without a doubt, her big introduction to Science Fiction and Fantasy might be the flick she's most remembered for: in 1963, she starred opposite popular funnyman Jerry Lewis aboard The Nutty Professor for Paramount Pictures. In 2004, the feature was inducted into the U.S.'s National Film Registry, the institution which seeks to preserve pictures with an established legacy in all of filmdom.
In 1966, she joined Dean Martin aboard The Silencers, an adaptation of the Matt Helm novel, for Columbia Pictures.
In 1972, she paid a visit to the world of TV's Circle Of Fear anthology program. "The Dead We Leave Behind" saw her cast as a murdered wife whose spirit may or may not have been causing shenanigans from the afterlife to the detriment of her guilty husband.
In 1975, Stevens joined the equally stunning Lynda Carter aboard an episode of TV's popular Wonder Woman. It was a small role aboard the series' pilot -- "The New Original Wonder Woman" -- but it was a great chance to show her skills.
In 1978, she boarded the Cruise Into Terror, a telefilm that saw passengers aboard a cruise ship being adversely effected by some cursed cargo. That same year, she also appeared in The Manitou on the silver screen, a SciFi/Horror hybrid that explored the reincarnation of a 400-year-old Native American spirit.
In 1979, she stepped aboard Supertrain, a short-lived serial that explored stories of those who rode the high-tech transport.
In 1984, Stella and some other beautiful ladies inhabited the Fantasy/Thriller Amazons. Directed by Paul Michael Glaser, the premise saw the fairer sex setting their sights on world domination in a plot to kill off influential male leaders.
1987 saw the actress dipping back into some Comedy/Fantasy with some work in writer/director Bob Dahlin's Monster In The Closet.
In 1991, Stevens appeared as one of the headliners in The Terror Within II, a sequel that only loosely toyed with the original. Interestingly enough, her son -- Andrew Stevens -- starred opposite his mother as well as served as the project's director, his debut behind the camera.
There are a few other smaller vehicles that benefitted from the woman's good graces, but methinks you get the point: Stevens was no stranger to worlds of the fantastical, and I think our genre is better off owed in no small part to some of the contributions she leaves behind for fans to discover in the years ahead.
As always, thoughts and prayers are extended to the friends, family, and fans of Stella Stevens. May she rest in peace.
-- EZ
- Published on
Content Warning:
This is just a quick notice to all of you prudes who occasionally take issue with my pointing out that some actresses are not just attractive but also they're damn sexy-as-hell. If you take issue with that kind of copy, then this is your chance to go elsewhere -- right now -- so you don't read this post. You've been warned. Don't bother emailing me.
This is just a quick notice to all of you prudes who occasionally take issue with my pointing out that some actresses are not just attractive but also they're damn sexy-as-hell. If you take issue with that kind of copy, then this is your chance to go elsewhere -- right now -- so you don't read this post. You've been warned. Don't bother emailing me.
"Being a sex symbol was rather like being a convict. The mind is an erogenous zone."
-- Raquel Welch (from IMDB.com)
-- Raquel Welch (from IMDB.com)
Mark my words: Raquel Welch wasn't just a sexy-as-hell woman. She was a gifted actress.
To perhaps an earlier generation of genre fans, she was considered one of the original genre queens. Her one-two genre punch -- 1966's Fantastic Voyage (Twentieth Century Fox) and One Million Years B.C. (Hammer Films) -- certainly put her 'on the map' of Science Fiction and Fantasy fans around the world. Though her later adventures in realms of the fantastic were decidedly lighter, I think it's still safe to say that her lovely face certainly charted an incredible course for fandom to follow in the years ahead.
In fairness to the fullness of her resume, she wasn't exactly what anyone would call of 'box office heavyweight.' For a time, methinks she was vastly more well known for being a sex symbol, and that was likely the chief reason why producers sought her participation in any number of projects -- big and small or even smart or dumb. Clearly, her good looks contributed to her personal success -- a fact of life that even she accepted -- and in 1995 Empire Magazine saw her clocking in at 18th on their 100 Sexiest Stars in Film History.
18th?
Dare I say that's a bit too low?
While her work in Science Fiction may've been a bit light, I've always wondered if I might've enjoyed 1968's Barberella (Paramount Pictures) more than I did. For those who are unaware, she was in consideration for the lead -- a part that, sadly, eventually was awarded to Jane Fonda -- and I can't help but wonder what she might've done with the picture. Who knows? Some might think fandom and filmdom dodged a bullet, but I suspect the flick may've gone on to even greater heights than the cult status it maintains today.
As for other flights of fancy she may've taken during her time in the business that might be of interest to fans? Very early in her career, she paid a visit to the world of Bewitched. 1967's Fantasy/Comedy Bedazzled (Twentieth Century Fox) certainly took advantage of her sex appeal, casting her in the role of 'Lilian Lust.' In 1979, she showed up in an episode of TV's Mork & Mindy. Lastly, in 1995, she stopped in for some work on Lois & Clark: The New Adventures Of Superman.
Alas, none of us lasts forever, and word reached SciFiHistory.Net's desk this week of the lady's passing at the ripe age of 82.
Prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Ms. Welch. May she forever rest in peace.
-- EZ
To perhaps an earlier generation of genre fans, she was considered one of the original genre queens. Her one-two genre punch -- 1966's Fantastic Voyage (Twentieth Century Fox) and One Million Years B.C. (Hammer Films) -- certainly put her 'on the map' of Science Fiction and Fantasy fans around the world. Though her later adventures in realms of the fantastic were decidedly lighter, I think it's still safe to say that her lovely face certainly charted an incredible course for fandom to follow in the years ahead.
In fairness to the fullness of her resume, she wasn't exactly what anyone would call of 'box office heavyweight.' For a time, methinks she was vastly more well known for being a sex symbol, and that was likely the chief reason why producers sought her participation in any number of projects -- big and small or even smart or dumb. Clearly, her good looks contributed to her personal success -- a fact of life that even she accepted -- and in 1995 Empire Magazine saw her clocking in at 18th on their 100 Sexiest Stars in Film History.
18th?
Dare I say that's a bit too low?
While her work in Science Fiction may've been a bit light, I've always wondered if I might've enjoyed 1968's Barberella (Paramount Pictures) more than I did. For those who are unaware, she was in consideration for the lead -- a part that, sadly, eventually was awarded to Jane Fonda -- and I can't help but wonder what she might've done with the picture. Who knows? Some might think fandom and filmdom dodged a bullet, but I suspect the flick may've gone on to even greater heights than the cult status it maintains today.
As for other flights of fancy she may've taken during her time in the business that might be of interest to fans? Very early in her career, she paid a visit to the world of Bewitched. 1967's Fantasy/Comedy Bedazzled (Twentieth Century Fox) certainly took advantage of her sex appeal, casting her in the role of 'Lilian Lust.' In 1979, she showed up in an episode of TV's Mork & Mindy. Lastly, in 1995, she stopped in for some work on Lois & Clark: The New Adventures Of Superman.
Alas, none of us lasts forever, and word reached SciFiHistory.Net's desk this week of the lady's passing at the ripe age of 82.
Prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Ms. Welch. May she forever rest in peace.
-- EZ
- Published on
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From Vinegar Syndrome’s supplied publicity materials:
“A wild and surreal outer space adventure. A mid-80’s mash-up of The Empire Strikes Back, Alien, and Edgar Rice Burrough’s Tarzan. In the year 6470, a husband-and-wife team of explorers receive a mysterious distress signal from an astronaut who disappeared decades earlier. They leave their son aboard ship to search for the missing astronaut – but fate intervenes, their own ship crashes – leaving their son alone – or is he?”
Though I’ve never been a huge fan of animation, I will admit to a fondness for those projects that are a bit more Science Fiction and Fantasy in nature. The late 1970’s and early 1980’s saw a good number of space-based Ips which were quite good in depicting space exploration and adventure, though a few of them kinda/sorta lost their way in crafting stories a bit too dumbed down – likely so that they’d appeal to the ‘youngest among us,’ expanding their audience share with Saturday morning viewing potential – and I tuned them out. But it’s very, very cool when I can rant and/or rave about something I’ve never seen before, which is the case with The Son Of The Stars.
From what I’ve been able to ascertain (mind you, there isn’t a whole lot written about this project on the Information Superhighway), Fiul Stelelor – its original name – was Romanian effort that combined influences from a variety of sources – Star Wars, Flash Gordon, and more – and hasn’t had much (if any) notable screening outside its native country. Still, it definitely looks like something very much conceived and executed in the 80’s – for me, it’s stylistically very similar to Filmation’s good-and-bad Flash Gordon incarnation (1979-1982) – though I’d have a hard time putting it alongside contemporaries because of its narrative sensibilities … or lack thereof.
Directed by the team of Calin Cazan, Dan Chisovski, and Mircea Toia (as per IMDB.com), Stars doesn’t quite have a tightly constructed plotline, though its synopsis might lead audiences to believe otherwise. Yes, we’re introduced to a young hero – Dan – and we’re taken along his journey from childhood to manhood – seemingly where he’ll find hero status – but it’s a series of curious twists and turns that account for his maturation process. Essentially left parentless on the planet Doreea, the boy has to learn an all-new way of life: his adoptive parents – a species that speaks telepathically and can both move objects telekinetically as well as create them out of thin air – prepare the young man to eventually rise up and throw off their oppressor. It would seem this region of space is ‘governed’ by an entity kinda/sorta beyond both space and time, making him/her/it understandably hard to find, only showing its face/facelessness conveniently when/if he/she/it wishes.
If my issues with this construct isn’t clear enough, then perhaps Stars felt more like a story put together in progress, with no clear blueprint for precisely how it was going to take audiences from its rather specific set-up to its ‘throw everything included the kitchen sink’ finale. To the makers’ credit, they keep the action flowing: about the time Dan understands his place in this corner of the universe, a bit of new exposition emerges to show that it ain’t quite so, and Stars bobs and weaves in a somewhat different trajectory while still maintaining its focus on a spectacular space battle showdown that only animation could deliver back in its day. (Well, unless you were George Lucas …)
From Vinegar Syndrome’s supplied publicity materials:
“A wild and surreal outer space adventure. A mid-80’s mash-up of The Empire Strikes Back, Alien, and Edgar Rice Burrough’s Tarzan. In the year 6470, a husband-and-wife team of explorers receive a mysterious distress signal from an astronaut who disappeared decades earlier. They leave their son aboard ship to search for the missing astronaut – but fate intervenes, their own ship crashes – leaving their son alone – or is he?”
Though I’ve never been a huge fan of animation, I will admit to a fondness for those projects that are a bit more Science Fiction and Fantasy in nature. The late 1970’s and early 1980’s saw a good number of space-based Ips which were quite good in depicting space exploration and adventure, though a few of them kinda/sorta lost their way in crafting stories a bit too dumbed down – likely so that they’d appeal to the ‘youngest among us,’ expanding their audience share with Saturday morning viewing potential – and I tuned them out. But it’s very, very cool when I can rant and/or rave about something I’ve never seen before, which is the case with The Son Of The Stars.
From what I’ve been able to ascertain (mind you, there isn’t a whole lot written about this project on the Information Superhighway), Fiul Stelelor – its original name – was Romanian effort that combined influences from a variety of sources – Star Wars, Flash Gordon, and more – and hasn’t had much (if any) notable screening outside its native country. Still, it definitely looks like something very much conceived and executed in the 80’s – for me, it’s stylistically very similar to Filmation’s good-and-bad Flash Gordon incarnation (1979-1982) – though I’d have a hard time putting it alongside contemporaries because of its narrative sensibilities … or lack thereof.
Directed by the team of Calin Cazan, Dan Chisovski, and Mircea Toia (as per IMDB.com), Stars doesn’t quite have a tightly constructed plotline, though its synopsis might lead audiences to believe otherwise. Yes, we’re introduced to a young hero – Dan – and we’re taken along his journey from childhood to manhood – seemingly where he’ll find hero status – but it’s a series of curious twists and turns that account for his maturation process. Essentially left parentless on the planet Doreea, the boy has to learn an all-new way of life: his adoptive parents – a species that speaks telepathically and can both move objects telekinetically as well as create them out of thin air – prepare the young man to eventually rise up and throw off their oppressor. It would seem this region of space is ‘governed’ by an entity kinda/sorta beyond both space and time, making him/her/it understandably hard to find, only showing its face/facelessness conveniently when/if he/she/it wishes.
If my issues with this construct isn’t clear enough, then perhaps Stars felt more like a story put together in progress, with no clear blueprint for precisely how it was going to take audiences from its rather specific set-up to its ‘throw everything included the kitchen sink’ finale. To the makers’ credit, they keep the action flowing: about the time Dan understands his place in this corner of the universe, a bit of new exposition emerges to show that it ain’t quite so, and Stars bobs and weaves in a somewhat different trajectory while still maintaining its focus on a spectacular space battle showdown that only animation could deliver back in its day. (Well, unless you were George Lucas …)
In fact, I’d argue that Stars possesses an almost eerily poetic ‘stream of consciousness’ quality to its narrative flow. I was honestly a bit surprised at just how many times in its 80 minutes the producers opted to throw something else into the mix, perhaps feeling as if they hadn’t already upped the ante enough for those still aboard. Much like the lead, you can’t quite anticipate where the almost psychedelic mind trip might be taking you next – there are floating orbs, creatures whose number of appendages keep changing, and questions of reality versus perception all swirling in the occasionally heady mash-up of styles – and I guess that was one reason I couldn’t quite turn away … I had no idea how this was all going to tie together in the big finish.
Well … it didn’t quite ‘stick the landing’ as well as I had hoped, but it still made for an interesting diversion. There’s something to be said for Stars’ obvious ambition; wherein other storytellers might’ve pulled it back a bit, this team dialed it up to eleven. Hell, Dan even manages to (somehow) get the girl in the end, and that’s got to count for something, am I right? I’ll leave you to figure whether or not you thought it was effective or not. As for me? I enjoyed it perfectly fine.
The Son Of The Stars (1985) (aka Fiul Stelelor) was produced by Animafilm Studio. DVD distribution (for this particular limited edition release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Vinegar Syndrome. As for the technical specifications? First, I’m no trained video expert. Second, I viewed this product via a popular web-streaming portal. As I’ve stated before, I unfortunately do not live in a home that has perfect streaming speeds – curse you, internet service provider! – so occasionally some of the imperfections I might experience I owed to that and not the original source material. I can assure you that what I viewed appeared to be very good product about 95% of the time; there were some small issues with image clarity that may or may not have been part of the original source. I’ve no way to know for certain.
Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then I’m happy to provide for you what I’ve read online about this particular package. Vinegar Syndrome has this available with either a limited edition slipcover or without (depending upon whether you wish to save a few bucks). This disc itself is an all-new 4K scan reportedly from the original 35mm negative and sound elements, and the restoration was overseen by Craig Rogers and Tyler Fagerstrom on behalf of Deaf Crocodile Films. The disc also boasts an audio commentary track hosted by film journalist Samm Deighan; a video interview with co-director Calin Cazan; and a collector’s booklet with an essay by comics artist and publisher Stephen R. Bissette. (As I was only provided a streaming link, I cannot make any statement on the quality of those materials, so consider this ‘buyer beware.’)
Recommended, but …
The Son Of The Stars (1985) (aka Fiul Stelelor) is one of the weirdest animated flicks I’ve had the good fortune to watch and review. It isn’t a bad viewing experience; it’s just a bit … well … ‘wacky’ is the only way I can describe it fully. The narrative kinda/sorta ebbs and flows with the main premise changing directions more than once. It feels a bit like a ‘stream of consciousness’ poem … or a story told by a kid entirely made up right from cloth. Still, it has just enough charm – and enough commitment to clearly being something inspired – that I’d encourage a single view for ‘Children Of The ‘80’s’ or diehard Science Fiction and Fantasy enthusiasts. Just don’t expect it to make perfect sense in all places.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Vinegar Syndrome provided me with complimentary streaming access to view The Son Of The Stars by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Well … it didn’t quite ‘stick the landing’ as well as I had hoped, but it still made for an interesting diversion. There’s something to be said for Stars’ obvious ambition; wherein other storytellers might’ve pulled it back a bit, this team dialed it up to eleven. Hell, Dan even manages to (somehow) get the girl in the end, and that’s got to count for something, am I right? I’ll leave you to figure whether or not you thought it was effective or not. As for me? I enjoyed it perfectly fine.
The Son Of The Stars (1985) (aka Fiul Stelelor) was produced by Animafilm Studio. DVD distribution (for this particular limited edition release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Vinegar Syndrome. As for the technical specifications? First, I’m no trained video expert. Second, I viewed this product via a popular web-streaming portal. As I’ve stated before, I unfortunately do not live in a home that has perfect streaming speeds – curse you, internet service provider! – so occasionally some of the imperfections I might experience I owed to that and not the original source material. I can assure you that what I viewed appeared to be very good product about 95% of the time; there were some small issues with image clarity that may or may not have been part of the original source. I’ve no way to know for certain.
Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then I’m happy to provide for you what I’ve read online about this particular package. Vinegar Syndrome has this available with either a limited edition slipcover or without (depending upon whether you wish to save a few bucks). This disc itself is an all-new 4K scan reportedly from the original 35mm negative and sound elements, and the restoration was overseen by Craig Rogers and Tyler Fagerstrom on behalf of Deaf Crocodile Films. The disc also boasts an audio commentary track hosted by film journalist Samm Deighan; a video interview with co-director Calin Cazan; and a collector’s booklet with an essay by comics artist and publisher Stephen R. Bissette. (As I was only provided a streaming link, I cannot make any statement on the quality of those materials, so consider this ‘buyer beware.’)
Recommended, but …
The Son Of The Stars (1985) (aka Fiul Stelelor) is one of the weirdest animated flicks I’ve had the good fortune to watch and review. It isn’t a bad viewing experience; it’s just a bit … well … ‘wacky’ is the only way I can describe it fully. The narrative kinda/sorta ebbs and flows with the main premise changing directions more than once. It feels a bit like a ‘stream of consciousness’ poem … or a story told by a kid entirely made up right from cloth. Still, it has just enough charm – and enough commitment to clearly being something inspired – that I’d encourage a single view for ‘Children Of The ‘80’s’ or diehard Science Fiction and Fantasy enthusiasts. Just don’t expect it to make perfect sense in all places.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Vinegar Syndrome provided me with complimentary streaming access to view The Son Of The Stars by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
Let’s put it this way:
If you write 183 different films, then the odds are pretty good that you’re going to have some winners and some losers in there, right? I mean … even if we’re really only talking statistically – with all that we’ve been told about a thousand monkeys typing endlessly, and one will eventually, inevitably produce something Shakespearean – then doesn’t it stand to reason that the screenwriter should find some successes and failures … right?
Now, let’s add another later:
If you direct an astonishing 207 different films, then the odds are pretty that – just like I stated above – you’re going to have the same? Some good, some bad, some ugly. I mean … it just stands to reason that would be the case … right?
Well …
I haven’t seen nearly as much from the library of works of Jess Franco (aka Jesus Franco) as have others. If I’m being perfectly honest, then I’d have to admit that friends and associates have largely encouraged me to avoid some specific titles – not his entire body of “art” – and I’ve never had cause to doubt the advice. I can say that what I have seen hasn’t been all that … erm … what’s the word? Impressive? Persuasive? Relatable? When it comes to productions, I do tend to identify more with films featuring characters I can relate to, and Franco allegedly trafficked in an awful lot of exploitation stuff. And, hey, I’ve no problem with that … but again I keep coming back to the lack of a logically progressing plot being a central requirement.
On that front, I think Franco probably swung and missed more than most, but he probably has a solid reputation wherein his misses might just make for a reasonable way to be entertained for an hour or two. These aren’t grand films by any estimation – at least, none that I’ve seen – but there’s still something about them that I just can’t quite put my finger 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:
“Penniless and separated from her sister, a beautiful, chaste orphan must endure an endless parade of villains, perverts, and degenerates who covet her virtue and life.”
Rarely do I try to mix words on narrative issues, but I do wish to be clear on this point: Franco’s Marquis de Sade’s Justine isn’t so much a picture as it is a parable. Based entirely on the script’s construction – as adapted from the novel by Harry Alan Towers, Arpad DeRiso, and Erich Konte – I’ve absolutely no doubt that’s how this meager potboiler was intended from start-to-finish. In that regard, it actually works quite efficiently, maybe even “textbook” as they say.
If you write 183 different films, then the odds are pretty good that you’re going to have some winners and some losers in there, right? I mean … even if we’re really only talking statistically – with all that we’ve been told about a thousand monkeys typing endlessly, and one will eventually, inevitably produce something Shakespearean – then doesn’t it stand to reason that the screenwriter should find some successes and failures … right?
Now, let’s add another later:
If you direct an astonishing 207 different films, then the odds are pretty that – just like I stated above – you’re going to have the same? Some good, some bad, some ugly. I mean … it just stands to reason that would be the case … right?
Well …
I haven’t seen nearly as much from the library of works of Jess Franco (aka Jesus Franco) as have others. If I’m being perfectly honest, then I’d have to admit that friends and associates have largely encouraged me to avoid some specific titles – not his entire body of “art” – and I’ve never had cause to doubt the advice. I can say that what I have seen hasn’t been all that … erm … what’s the word? Impressive? Persuasive? Relatable? When it comes to productions, I do tend to identify more with films featuring characters I can relate to, and Franco allegedly trafficked in an awful lot of exploitation stuff. And, hey, I’ve no problem with that … but again I keep coming back to the lack of a logically progressing plot being a central requirement.
On that front, I think Franco probably swung and missed more than most, but he probably has a solid reputation wherein his misses might just make for a reasonable way to be entertained for an hour or two. These aren’t grand films by any estimation – at least, none that I’ve seen – but there’s still something about them that I just can’t quite put my finger 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:
“Penniless and separated from her sister, a beautiful, chaste orphan must endure an endless parade of villains, perverts, and degenerates who covet her virtue and life.”
Rarely do I try to mix words on narrative issues, but I do wish to be clear on this point: Franco’s Marquis de Sade’s Justine isn’t so much a picture as it is a parable. Based entirely on the script’s construction – as adapted from the novel by Harry Alan Towers, Arpad DeRiso, and Erich Konte – I’ve absolutely no doubt that’s how this meager potboiler was intended from start-to-finish. In that regard, it actually works quite efficiently, maybe even “textbook” as they say.
Two sisters – Justine (played by the lovely Romina Power) and Juliette (Maria Rohm) – are wiling away their youth under the roof of a convent. The loss of both parents, however, means that they’ve no way to continue paying for such a life, and they’re set loose on the streets wherein they eventually decide to part ways (Juliette, it would seem, seeks refuge, room, and board in the arms of a sultry maiden within a local brothel; but the young and impressionable Justine will have no such thing). Then, the remainder of the tales unspools, charting out these separate lives and showing that – whether living a life in service to good or evil desires – two souls still just might reach the same destination.
So if that’s what awaits each of us, then why take the high road? I suspect those sentiments were probably what the Marquis himself had in mind, given what history has told us about how he lived his life of debauchery.
Still, the script adds one more layer of context worthy of note. While the exploits of Justine and Juliette occupy the bulk of screen time, de Sade himself – in the guise of actor Klaus Kinski – turns in a somewhat tortured performance as the man behind bars. In these vignettes, he’s somewhat tortured – not physically so much as in mentally with vivid memories of his exploits – and pontificates (in voiceover fashion) about the nature of his life and choices. It may not be perfectly understandable – I found these sequences to be a bit distracting at times, mostly because they featured the leading ladies roleplaying out whatever de Sade was going on about this time – but they do elevate an otherwise routine good-girl-bad-girl dynamic that develops rather quickly between the sisters at odds socially.
Also, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that Justine – the film, not the lady – looks pretty fabulous. I’ve read that the film was one of the best budgets that the controversial filmmaker had to work with; and I think that shows very consistently throughout the feature. Granted, there are a few practical sets here which could’ve used a bit more visual flavor, but the location shooting, costumes, and props all are a cut above lesser efforts; and they do give the production a greater feel of authenticity when it comes to considering it as a period piece. Kudos to all involved for putting the cash invested to good use.
However, Justine – a picture often talked about for its promiscuousness – is fairly void of anything genuinely sensual. Granted, some of this might be owed to the fact that this was produced in the late 1960’s, and Franco had to work with producing something that could and would get past censors of the day. Far too much of it feels staged – a weakness I’ve found in many period pictures – and the performances end up too uninspired or leaning a bit too cartoonish to develop any palpable tension.
In fact, the late Jack Palance shows up (for some reason) as the leader of what appears to be some 17th century sex cult, and his (ahem) accent is downright laughable … and I mean ‘laughable’ to the point of absurdity in a few places. I can’t discount the idea of what his character represented here – it’s all developed within context of the place and time – but … Jack Palance? A French S&M ruler? Was there literally no French actors of note who could’ve stepped up and salvaged this sequence?
Marquis de Sade’s Justine (1969) was produced by Etablissement Sargon, Corona Filmproduktion, Aica Cinematografica S.R.L., and American International Pictures (AIP). DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated via the good folks at Blue Underground. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I can assure you that this picture looks and sounds fabulous from start-to-finish.
If you’re looking for special features, then buckle up, buttercup! This two-disc collection features an audio commentary (film historians Nathaniel Thompson and Troy Howarth) on the 4K disc, but then head on over to the Blu-ray one for quite a bit more, including cast and crew interviews, trailers, stills, an alternate U.S. edit of the film, and maybe even a few things extra. It’s a very good collection, and it should keep fans busy for some time.
(Mildly) Recommended, but …
Sigh. Honestly, the films of Jess Franco are always (always!) advertised as ‘erotic’ and/or ‘sleazy’ and – in my humble estimation – those that I’ve seen are barely (barely!) titillating. His Marquis de Sade’s Justine (1969) is no different, and – if anything – it’s probably the least titillating of the bunch given the fact that there’s more parable in here than perversion. Honestly, I’d get more ‘hot and bothered’ if I picked this thing up as a recommendation for something carnal only to find out there was so, so, so very little in it. It does boast some interesting production values – and some good location photography – but as anything steamy? Sorry, folks, I’m not seeing it. Nor should you.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Blue Underground provided me with a complimentary 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray of Marquis de Sade’s Justine by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
So if that’s what awaits each of us, then why take the high road? I suspect those sentiments were probably what the Marquis himself had in mind, given what history has told us about how he lived his life of debauchery.
Still, the script adds one more layer of context worthy of note. While the exploits of Justine and Juliette occupy the bulk of screen time, de Sade himself – in the guise of actor Klaus Kinski – turns in a somewhat tortured performance as the man behind bars. In these vignettes, he’s somewhat tortured – not physically so much as in mentally with vivid memories of his exploits – and pontificates (in voiceover fashion) about the nature of his life and choices. It may not be perfectly understandable – I found these sequences to be a bit distracting at times, mostly because they featured the leading ladies roleplaying out whatever de Sade was going on about this time – but they do elevate an otherwise routine good-girl-bad-girl dynamic that develops rather quickly between the sisters at odds socially.
Also, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that Justine – the film, not the lady – looks pretty fabulous. I’ve read that the film was one of the best budgets that the controversial filmmaker had to work with; and I think that shows very consistently throughout the feature. Granted, there are a few practical sets here which could’ve used a bit more visual flavor, but the location shooting, costumes, and props all are a cut above lesser efforts; and they do give the production a greater feel of authenticity when it comes to considering it as a period piece. Kudos to all involved for putting the cash invested to good use.
However, Justine – a picture often talked about for its promiscuousness – is fairly void of anything genuinely sensual. Granted, some of this might be owed to the fact that this was produced in the late 1960’s, and Franco had to work with producing something that could and would get past censors of the day. Far too much of it feels staged – a weakness I’ve found in many period pictures – and the performances end up too uninspired or leaning a bit too cartoonish to develop any palpable tension.
In fact, the late Jack Palance shows up (for some reason) as the leader of what appears to be some 17th century sex cult, and his (ahem) accent is downright laughable … and I mean ‘laughable’ to the point of absurdity in a few places. I can’t discount the idea of what his character represented here – it’s all developed within context of the place and time – but … Jack Palance? A French S&M ruler? Was there literally no French actors of note who could’ve stepped up and salvaged this sequence?
Marquis de Sade’s Justine (1969) was produced by Etablissement Sargon, Corona Filmproduktion, Aica Cinematografica S.R.L., and American International Pictures (AIP). DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated via the good folks at Blue Underground. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I can assure you that this picture looks and sounds fabulous from start-to-finish.
If you’re looking for special features, then buckle up, buttercup! This two-disc collection features an audio commentary (film historians Nathaniel Thompson and Troy Howarth) on the 4K disc, but then head on over to the Blu-ray one for quite a bit more, including cast and crew interviews, trailers, stills, an alternate U.S. edit of the film, and maybe even a few things extra. It’s a very good collection, and it should keep fans busy for some time.
(Mildly) Recommended, but …
Sigh. Honestly, the films of Jess Franco are always (always!) advertised as ‘erotic’ and/or ‘sleazy’ and – in my humble estimation – those that I’ve seen are barely (barely!) titillating. His Marquis de Sade’s Justine (1969) is no different, and – if anything – it’s probably the least titillating of the bunch given the fact that there’s more parable in here than perversion. Honestly, I’d get more ‘hot and bothered’ if I picked this thing up as a recommendation for something carnal only to find out there was so, so, so very little in it. It does boast some interesting production values – and some good location photography – but as anything steamy? Sorry, folks, I’m not seeing it. Nor should you.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Blue Underground provided me with a complimentary 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray of Marquis de Sade’s Justine by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
In case you’re wondering, I first experienced Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chain Saw Massacre when it made the rounds on pay cable, probably some time in the late 1970’s or early 1980’s. Those years blend together for me – for a variety of personal reasons – so the specifics do escape me. But it’s a viewing I do recall, mostly because I remember being just a touch disappointed.
For those unaware, Massacre is the kind of feature presentation that – like William Friedkin’s The Exorcist (1973) – had been seen theatrically and talked about for a few years after. Media sensations were different back in those days – there were exponentially fewer television channels and movie houses – so when something ‘left its mark’ on audiences it continued being talked about for some time. So on top of all the controversy Massacre had in both getting made and getting released, moviegoers gave it new life beyond their respective viewings by telling friends and family about it, encouraging fans to go and see it, and cautioning the parents of children to keep their kids away from it … at all costs.
As you can imagine – and as a result of the hype – Massacre became the kind of flick kids like me just had to see. Somehow. And – most likely – you had to see it while keeping your parents oblivious to the fact that you finally saw it. That was the trick, you see, and that’s why we had friends and neighbors. We’d go to their house and watch it, probably while their parents were away, and find comfort (or not) by following that whole ‘there’s safety in numbers’ rule.
So, yes, I saw it under those precarious circumstances. As so often happens when society builds something up, I was a bit let down. Oh, sure. The whole wacky cannibal family made an impression, and the assortment of eccentric backwoods Texans were memorable in ways only movies deliver best. But, for me, lost somewhere in all of that weirdness was an interesting story. Massacre – or, at least, the sum of its part – remains only a visceral escape. A carnival thrill ride gone bloody. Because I wouldn’t be venturing into those parts of Texas – nor was I likely to explore creepy houses without an invite – I just wasn’t all that impressed, much less scared.
At my young age, I was unaware just how many folks had come face-to-face with Leatherface and were scared silly.
Decades later – and vastly wiser – I think I understand its impact much better.
(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 my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Five friends head out to rural Texas to visit the grave of a grandfather. On the way they stumble across what appears to be a deserted house, only to discover something sinister within. Something armed with a chainsaw.”
Could there be any simply way to deliver pure terror than that?
For those unaware, Massacre is the kind of feature presentation that – like William Friedkin’s The Exorcist (1973) – had been seen theatrically and talked about for a few years after. Media sensations were different back in those days – there were exponentially fewer television channels and movie houses – so when something ‘left its mark’ on audiences it continued being talked about for some time. So on top of all the controversy Massacre had in both getting made and getting released, moviegoers gave it new life beyond their respective viewings by telling friends and family about it, encouraging fans to go and see it, and cautioning the parents of children to keep their kids away from it … at all costs.
As you can imagine – and as a result of the hype – Massacre became the kind of flick kids like me just had to see. Somehow. And – most likely – you had to see it while keeping your parents oblivious to the fact that you finally saw it. That was the trick, you see, and that’s why we had friends and neighbors. We’d go to their house and watch it, probably while their parents were away, and find comfort (or not) by following that whole ‘there’s safety in numbers’ rule.
So, yes, I saw it under those precarious circumstances. As so often happens when society builds something up, I was a bit let down. Oh, sure. The whole wacky cannibal family made an impression, and the assortment of eccentric backwoods Texans were memorable in ways only movies deliver best. But, for me, lost somewhere in all of that weirdness was an interesting story. Massacre – or, at least, the sum of its part – remains only a visceral escape. A carnival thrill ride gone bloody. Because I wouldn’t be venturing into those parts of Texas – nor was I likely to explore creepy houses without an invite – I just wasn’t all that impressed, much less scared.
At my young age, I was unaware just how many folks had come face-to-face with Leatherface and were scared silly.
Decades later – and vastly wiser – I think I understand its impact much better.
(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 my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Five friends head out to rural Texas to visit the grave of a grandfather. On the way they stumble across what appears to be a deserted house, only to discover something sinister within. Something armed with a chainsaw.”
Could there be any simply way to deliver pure terror than that?
Generally speaking, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre represents the kind of Horror that I tend to avoid.
Now, I mean no disrespect. I’m a pretty bi fan of Horror – though I prefer Science Fiction and Fantasy far more – but scripts that dabble in mostly conventional ideas kinda/sorta leave me cold. They don’t turn me off; it’s just that inflicting the lion’s share of torture on any cadre of unsuspecting victims can be accomplished with greater creativity, can’t it? I prefer frights that are a bit more supernatural in delivery. Ghosts, demons, possessions, and the like just tickle my fancy – they give me a bit more to think about, you see – and torment or suffering of such a primitive variety can be accomplished with relative ease. There just anything all that ‘special’ about it.
Still, Massacre earns a bit of my respect because – as they say – it was the first of its kind. Much has been written about the film’s authentic presentation of some fairly grim subject matter, and, yes, I’d certainly have to agree that such raw spectacle had eluded filmdom before screenwriter and director Tobe Hooper put his particular stamp on the genre. I’ve also read that it was the first film to throw power tools into the heady, bloody mix; though I’ve not done enough research to know whether that’s accurate, I’ll take such a statement at face value, agreeing that this, too, probably puts Massacre on any ‘must see’ list when trying to understand what truly makes people frightened of what goes bump in the night.
Honestly, I would’ve been too young to have seen The Texas Chain Saw Massacre in theaters, and I’m glad I was. It likely would’ve scared my wee-little mind for life. Though its true chill are still a bit passé by today’s standards (we’ve come a long way, baby), I’d still argue that actress Marilyn Burns deserves an incredible bit of special recognition for her part in pioneering an all-new kind of fright on the silver screen, and it’s a performance whose heights can’t be understated in away possible way. Yes, others were scared silly before, but at the end of a chain saw? Nah. This was all new territory for moviegoers, and her work in the picture warrants a modicum of praise.
It goes without saying (but I’ll say it anyway) that there’s a wealth of written material already out there exploring Massacre from a variety of intelligent perspectives. Hooper and co-screenwriter Kim Henkel constructed their project to say something about the world-at-large, and many a brainiac has spent time dissecting its images and themes across the veritable spectrum of academia. My two cents in this space will not be the be-all-end-all on the film in any regard, so I do encourage those of you who still read to surf the information superhighway for rest stops all of your own. Trust me when I say, “There will be plenty.” And … much of what has been written is kind interesting.
Still, because its foundational principles aren’t exactly my bailiwick, I’ve always stumbled in trying to have something relevant to say about it other than what I’ve said here. It’s a lean, mean, killing machine. It’s arguably one of the best edited frights you’ll find in the whole Horror library, with not an ounce of fat nor wasted space. Its players all show up and hit their marks admirably – even those with the most oddball mannerisms or quirky sensibilities. It likely won’t be a comfortable viewing experience … but I dare say it’s one you may never forget.
Now, I mean no disrespect. I’m a pretty bi fan of Horror – though I prefer Science Fiction and Fantasy far more – but scripts that dabble in mostly conventional ideas kinda/sorta leave me cold. They don’t turn me off; it’s just that inflicting the lion’s share of torture on any cadre of unsuspecting victims can be accomplished with greater creativity, can’t it? I prefer frights that are a bit more supernatural in delivery. Ghosts, demons, possessions, and the like just tickle my fancy – they give me a bit more to think about, you see – and torment or suffering of such a primitive variety can be accomplished with relative ease. There just anything all that ‘special’ about it.
Still, Massacre earns a bit of my respect because – as they say – it was the first of its kind. Much has been written about the film’s authentic presentation of some fairly grim subject matter, and, yes, I’d certainly have to agree that such raw spectacle had eluded filmdom before screenwriter and director Tobe Hooper put his particular stamp on the genre. I’ve also read that it was the first film to throw power tools into the heady, bloody mix; though I’ve not done enough research to know whether that’s accurate, I’ll take such a statement at face value, agreeing that this, too, probably puts Massacre on any ‘must see’ list when trying to understand what truly makes people frightened of what goes bump in the night.
Honestly, I would’ve been too young to have seen The Texas Chain Saw Massacre in theaters, and I’m glad I was. It likely would’ve scared my wee-little mind for life. Though its true chill are still a bit passé by today’s standards (we’ve come a long way, baby), I’d still argue that actress Marilyn Burns deserves an incredible bit of special recognition for her part in pioneering an all-new kind of fright on the silver screen, and it’s a performance whose heights can’t be understated in away possible way. Yes, others were scared silly before, but at the end of a chain saw? Nah. This was all new territory for moviegoers, and her work in the picture warrants a modicum of praise.
It goes without saying (but I’ll say it anyway) that there’s a wealth of written material already out there exploring Massacre from a variety of intelligent perspectives. Hooper and co-screenwriter Kim Henkel constructed their project to say something about the world-at-large, and many a brainiac has spent time dissecting its images and themes across the veritable spectrum of academia. My two cents in this space will not be the be-all-end-all on the film in any regard, so I do encourage those of you who still read to surf the information superhighway for rest stops all of your own. Trust me when I say, “There will be plenty.” And … much of what has been written is kind interesting.
Still, because its foundational principles aren’t exactly my bailiwick, I’ve always stumbled in trying to have something relevant to say about it other than what I’ve said here. It’s a lean, mean, killing machine. It’s arguably one of the best edited frights you’ll find in the whole Horror library, with not an ounce of fat nor wasted space. Its players all show up and hit their marks admirably – even those with the most oddball mannerisms or quirky sensibilities. It likely won’t be a comfortable viewing experience … but I dare say it’s one you may never forget.
The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) was produced by Vortex. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable folks at Dark Sky Films. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, let me try to be perfectly clear: this is advertised as being a “director-approved 4K restoration,” but it bears mentioning that the original was reportedly shot on 16mm film. What this means is that there’s still going to be some fine grain in the experience … but it’ll likely be the cleanest fine grain you’ve ever seen! (snicker snicker) Let’s just say that any grain adds to the experience of making this feel like the most dangerous home movie ever attempted.
If you’re looking for special features? Well, then buckle up because this collection is loaded to the gills. The 4K disc includes four separate commentaries (including the actors, actresses, and many craftsmen and women who worked on the picture in some capacity), so that alone is going to give you hours of extra entertainment. However, the goods don’t stop there, and the accompanying Blu-ray bonus disc includes an all-new feature-length documentary of the flick’s enduring legacy; several making-of and/or interview shorts with cast and crew; deleted scenes; outtakes; bloopers; stills; TV spots; radio adverts; and even a bit more. I say this humbly: this is exactly the kind of value purchasing practical media still provides fans as it’s an incredibly comprehensive set of extras put together to your benefit. Well done, all around.
Highly recommended … if for no other reason than the fact that the film definitely deserves to be seen at least once. Many won’t return to it – for any number of reasons – but that doesn’t diminish the fact that it’s a textbook definition for how low-budget Horror films truly work and what they’re capable of.
As I tried to be clear above, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre isn’t so much a good film as it is a relevant film. Its cast and crew set out with the unstated ambition of trying to do something first: they wanted to give audiences an authentic bout of manic fright. They wanted it to look and sound and feel as real as possible; and I think on that standard there’s no mistaking how well a result they achieved. The flick has gone on to become the gold standard for ‘this type of thing,’ and decades later it continues to influence storytellers just getting started in the business. It’s as ground-breaking as it is blood-letting … and that’s saying something.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Dark Sky Films provided me with a complimentary 4K Ultra HD Steelbook Edition of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
If you’re looking for special features? Well, then buckle up because this collection is loaded to the gills. The 4K disc includes four separate commentaries (including the actors, actresses, and many craftsmen and women who worked on the picture in some capacity), so that alone is going to give you hours of extra entertainment. However, the goods don’t stop there, and the accompanying Blu-ray bonus disc includes an all-new feature-length documentary of the flick’s enduring legacy; several making-of and/or interview shorts with cast and crew; deleted scenes; outtakes; bloopers; stills; TV spots; radio adverts; and even a bit more. I say this humbly: this is exactly the kind of value purchasing practical media still provides fans as it’s an incredibly comprehensive set of extras put together to your benefit. Well done, all around.
Highly recommended … if for no other reason than the fact that the film definitely deserves to be seen at least once. Many won’t return to it – for any number of reasons – but that doesn’t diminish the fact that it’s a textbook definition for how low-budget Horror films truly work and what they’re capable of.
As I tried to be clear above, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre isn’t so much a good film as it is a relevant film. Its cast and crew set out with the unstated ambition of trying to do something first: they wanted to give audiences an authentic bout of manic fright. They wanted it to look and sound and feel as real as possible; and I think on that standard there’s no mistaking how well a result they achieved. The flick has gone on to become the gold standard for ‘this type of thing,’ and decades later it continues to influence storytellers just getting started in the business. It’s as ground-breaking as it is blood-letting … and that’s saying something.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Dark Sky Films provided me with a complimentary 4K Ultra HD Steelbook Edition of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
Folks, I’ve written before of my fondness for the ‘found footage’ feature.
Yes, yes, yes: I realize that an awful lot of readers are not tremendous fans of it, and I certainly understand their reservations. Occasionally this visual technique is overdone by budding filmmakers to the point of inducing a mild (or severe) case of motion sickness, and we’ve all been there done that, especially in our pursuit of some good scares. Horror projects are, perhaps, the widest purveyors of found footage; and given the amount of blood, guts, and other bodily fluids typically spilled onscreen in these efforts, this match isn’t always one made in Heaven. Still, when the framework is used smartly, it can make for an incredibly visceral experience, so I’ve always been willing to risk a headache in hopes of being rewarded with final twist.
However, somewhere along the way, storytellers kinda/sorta lost sight of what truly makes found footage its own unique subgenre. From my perspective, this happened when these tales decided they needed to ramp up even more scares in the run times, a narrative switcheroo that typically required some kind of post-production editing in order to legitimately compete with stories of greater depth. Not all legends are created equal – chiefly meaning that not every fable can authentically work within this caught-live-in-the-camera construction – and, thus, directors and screenwriters started to cheat just a bit.
As for Mean Spirited, a Horror/Comedy heavily advertised to be ‘found footage?’
Well, they cheated a lot, so much so that I think it’s not entirely appropriate to call it found footage.
In fact, it’s much more like a podcast production. It’s never quite ‘live’ but does tinker with that approach a great deal, so much so that I get why some might think of it alongside features like The Blair Witch Project (1999) or any of the more effective Paranormal Activity films. But make no mistake: it’s still a worthy Horror/Comedy endeavor, despite the fact that we’ve all likely seen all of its tricks elsewhere before.
(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 failed YouTuber’s weekend in the Poconos turns into a nightmare when a demon joins the party.”
Yes, yes, yes: I realize that an awful lot of readers are not tremendous fans of it, and I certainly understand their reservations. Occasionally this visual technique is overdone by budding filmmakers to the point of inducing a mild (or severe) case of motion sickness, and we’ve all been there done that, especially in our pursuit of some good scares. Horror projects are, perhaps, the widest purveyors of found footage; and given the amount of blood, guts, and other bodily fluids typically spilled onscreen in these efforts, this match isn’t always one made in Heaven. Still, when the framework is used smartly, it can make for an incredibly visceral experience, so I’ve always been willing to risk a headache in hopes of being rewarded with final twist.
However, somewhere along the way, storytellers kinda/sorta lost sight of what truly makes found footage its own unique subgenre. From my perspective, this happened when these tales decided they needed to ramp up even more scares in the run times, a narrative switcheroo that typically required some kind of post-production editing in order to legitimately compete with stories of greater depth. Not all legends are created equal – chiefly meaning that not every fable can authentically work within this caught-live-in-the-camera construction – and, thus, directors and screenwriters started to cheat just a bit.
As for Mean Spirited, a Horror/Comedy heavily advertised to be ‘found footage?’
Well, they cheated a lot, so much so that I think it’s not entirely appropriate to call it found footage.
In fact, it’s much more like a podcast production. It’s never quite ‘live’ but does tinker with that approach a great deal, so much so that I get why some might think of it alongside features like The Blair Witch Project (1999) or any of the more effective Paranormal Activity films. But make no mistake: it’s still a worthy Horror/Comedy endeavor, despite the fact that we’ve all likely seen all of its tricks elsewhere before.
(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 failed YouTuber’s weekend in the Poconos turns into a nightmare when a demon joins the party.”
Horror podcasts have turned in some respectable mileage with attempting to put their audiences up-close-and-personal with what scares them most – many in a real-time format – and there have been a handful of films in the last year which have tried to cover the same territory, albeit from a fictional foundation. In fact, V/H/S/99 (2022) – just one in a series of releases under the V/H/S banner – was a very solid ‘found footage’ style anthology I recently reviewed right here. Granted, not every entry stayed tried-and-true to the narrative structure, but each – in its own way – managed to attempt something fresh by way of scaring viewers out of the wits as they watched horrors unfolding in the ticking of the proverbial clock.
In comparison, Mean Spirited (2022) reaches for similar aspirations and definitely with the same comic intensity. Its basic premise involves a group of friends all getting back together in a somewhat remote location wherein a dark supernatural force – that may or may not be linked to one of them (sorry, I try to avoid spoiling central plot points, folks, so that’ll have to do) – slowly begins to manipulate these players one-by-one, though what agenda is being served remains largely elusive. However, there’s very little ‘found footage’ in here, as – come the big finish – it’s very clear that the entire production was heavily altered in post-production (even by its players, since it’s a video blog film-within-a-film) in order to deliver its final message.
And yes: there is a final message. Stay through the opening of the end credits, and you’ll see what I mean.
Writer/director Jeff Ryan – who also stars as Bryce and shares screenwriter duties here with Joe Adams (who as well has a small part) – does an affable job keeping Spirited’s wheels turning even when there’s not an awful lot of action onscreen. Granted, most of the plot is more than a bit formulaic here, so that may not seem like much to some. Still, kudos on producing a script that minimally tried to give a few of its players a bit more substance to work with than is the case on most Horror features. There’s a back history linking several of the characters – there’s even an old grudge that plays well into the scarier bits – so the fact that there’s some water already under the bridge both benefits and elevates some of the material in interesting ways. While it would’ve been nice for more discussion (forgive me for liking character arcs, people), there’s enough to flavor a few small moments with a hint of something extra.
Still, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that there’s just no great compelling main performance here. Spirited works as a functional ensemble – the ladies get the true short shrift here, so far as I’m concerned, getting reduced to the most common stereotypes in even the best Horror films – but even a theater troupe usually benefits from a great lead. No one quite emerges from the flock here, and I think that winds up ultimately weakening the brand to the point wherein the script’s clichéd twists have lesser impact than they otherwise could’ve.
Not caring who survives works fine in dark dramas … but in comedies? Well, you still wanna root for the underdog. I just wish Spirited really had one.
In comparison, Mean Spirited (2022) reaches for similar aspirations and definitely with the same comic intensity. Its basic premise involves a group of friends all getting back together in a somewhat remote location wherein a dark supernatural force – that may or may not be linked to one of them (sorry, I try to avoid spoiling central plot points, folks, so that’ll have to do) – slowly begins to manipulate these players one-by-one, though what agenda is being served remains largely elusive. However, there’s very little ‘found footage’ in here, as – come the big finish – it’s very clear that the entire production was heavily altered in post-production (even by its players, since it’s a video blog film-within-a-film) in order to deliver its final message.
And yes: there is a final message. Stay through the opening of the end credits, and you’ll see what I mean.
Writer/director Jeff Ryan – who also stars as Bryce and shares screenwriter duties here with Joe Adams (who as well has a small part) – does an affable job keeping Spirited’s wheels turning even when there’s not an awful lot of action onscreen. Granted, most of the plot is more than a bit formulaic here, so that may not seem like much to some. Still, kudos on producing a script that minimally tried to give a few of its players a bit more substance to work with than is the case on most Horror features. There’s a back history linking several of the characters – there’s even an old grudge that plays well into the scarier bits – so the fact that there’s some water already under the bridge both benefits and elevates some of the material in interesting ways. While it would’ve been nice for more discussion (forgive me for liking character arcs, people), there’s enough to flavor a few small moments with a hint of something extra.
Still, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that there’s just no great compelling main performance here. Spirited works as a functional ensemble – the ladies get the true short shrift here, so far as I’m concerned, getting reduced to the most common stereotypes in even the best Horror films – but even a theater troupe usually benefits from a great lead. No one quite emerges from the flock here, and I think that winds up ultimately weakening the brand to the point wherein the script’s clichéd twists have lesser impact than they otherwise could’ve.
Not caring who survives works fine in dark dramas … but in comedies? Well, you still wanna root for the underdog. I just wish Spirited really had one.
Mean Spirited (2022) was produced by First-Name Films. According to the publicity materials I’ve reviewed, the film is currently widely available for online streaming via a variety of popular platforms. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights and sounds accompanying the project were very good; mind you, there’s a bit of wacky post-production trickery incorporated here to give the flick the overall aesthetic of a viral video property along with its occasional ‘found footage’ presentation, so be prepared for a modest bit of the herky-jerkies from time-to-time. (Honestly, it’s much better than most found footage, so no worries.) Alas, as this was a streaming experience for me, there are no special features about which to report.
(Mildly) Recommended.
While I’m a pretty big proponent of ‘found footage films,’ I’m honestly not much a fan of those flicks who don’t quite buy into the format, thus using it more as a crutch to attempt something unique as opposed to something original. In that regard, Mean Spirited is almost entirely mean spirited, taking advantage of the tips and tricks that make found footage worth the time and investment in favor of delivering a finished product that’s entirely too predictable if not entirely too blasé about what could’ve otherwise been a useable frightfest. In trying to be something that it’s not, it ends up being exactly what audiences expected … without a notable performance in sight. Yes, it’s a bit of a creative miss, but kudos in still facilitating a worthwhile “be careful what you wish for” moral in its after-the-credits scene. In the words of any Scooby-Doo villain: “Maybe that’ll teach those meddling teenagers!”
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Entertainment Squad provided me with complimentary streaming access to Mean Spirited (2022) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
(Mildly) Recommended.
While I’m a pretty big proponent of ‘found footage films,’ I’m honestly not much a fan of those flicks who don’t quite buy into the format, thus using it more as a crutch to attempt something unique as opposed to something original. In that regard, Mean Spirited is almost entirely mean spirited, taking advantage of the tips and tricks that make found footage worth the time and investment in favor of delivering a finished product that’s entirely too predictable if not entirely too blasé about what could’ve otherwise been a useable frightfest. In trying to be something that it’s not, it ends up being exactly what audiences expected … without a notable performance in sight. Yes, it’s a bit of a creative miss, but kudos in still facilitating a worthwhile “be careful what you wish for” moral in its after-the-credits scene. In the words of any Scooby-Doo villain: “Maybe that’ll teach those meddling teenagers!”
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Entertainment Squad provided me with complimentary streaming access to Mean Spirited (2022) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ