- Published on
To my knowledge (as of this moment), I'm not completely sure if I've seen all of 1939's Son Of Frankenstein.
Now, now, now: before you haters go all off on me and threaten to pull my genre credentials, let me assure you that I bought the Universal Monsters' Legacy Collection back in 2017, so I do have every intention of sitting through all of the features and penning separate reviews. I believe I've seen it in my youth -- back in the days when all one had was broadcast television screenings to get familiar with that stuff -- and I've seen billions and billions (not really) of other pictures since that time ... so let's not make too much of it at this juncture.
However, I am aware that Son Of Frankenstein was the first time that character of Ygor/Igor was actually introduced into the wider Frankenstein mythos. (Interestingly enough, the film would also serve as the last time that star Boris Karloff would appear as the pivotal monster, but that's a discussion for another time and another place.) From what I've read about Lugosi's casting (from IMDB.com and other places), the veteran actor was cast kinda/sorta on-the-cheap; allegedly, his screen popularity had been dropping, so producers got him as a bargain. This didn't sit well with director Rowland V. Lee. He started shooting Son without a completed script, so he used each and every opportunity as it appeared in the production process to actually beef up Karloff's part, thus fleshing out (pun intended) a wholly new corner of the Frankenstein Movie Universe. Good on the man for giving a proven track record to swing for the fences once more in a storied career.
Technically, this was the third film in the entire Frankie series, but it varied just a bit from continuity issues with Bride Of Frankenstein (1935). In that picture, mastered the ability to speak with others, but this talent is completely gone from Son. The film offers no explanation for it, and I suspect this probably wasn't so much an oversight by screenwriter Wyllis Cooper as it was a necessity for the story as crafted.
And, lo and behold, Universal Pictures really went all-in with the inevitably release of Son ... as they scheduled it for its full U.S. theatrical exhibition on -- dumm dumm dumm -- Friday the 13th, 1939!
God bless those marketing geniuses!
Here's the plot summaryk as provided by the good people at IMDB.com:
"Returning to the ancestral castle long after the death of the monster, the son of Dr. Frankenstein meets a mad shepherd who is hiding the comatose creature. To clear the family name, he revives the creature and tries to rehabilitate him."
Now, now, now: before you haters go all off on me and threaten to pull my genre credentials, let me assure you that I bought the Universal Monsters' Legacy Collection back in 2017, so I do have every intention of sitting through all of the features and penning separate reviews. I believe I've seen it in my youth -- back in the days when all one had was broadcast television screenings to get familiar with that stuff -- and I've seen billions and billions (not really) of other pictures since that time ... so let's not make too much of it at this juncture.
However, I am aware that Son Of Frankenstein was the first time that character of Ygor/Igor was actually introduced into the wider Frankenstein mythos. (Interestingly enough, the film would also serve as the last time that star Boris Karloff would appear as the pivotal monster, but that's a discussion for another time and another place.) From what I've read about Lugosi's casting (from IMDB.com and other places), the veteran actor was cast kinda/sorta on-the-cheap; allegedly, his screen popularity had been dropping, so producers got him as a bargain. This didn't sit well with director Rowland V. Lee. He started shooting Son without a completed script, so he used each and every opportunity as it appeared in the production process to actually beef up Karloff's part, thus fleshing out (pun intended) a wholly new corner of the Frankenstein Movie Universe. Good on the man for giving a proven track record to swing for the fences once more in a storied career.
Technically, this was the third film in the entire Frankie series, but it varied just a bit from continuity issues with Bride Of Frankenstein (1935). In that picture, mastered the ability to speak with others, but this talent is completely gone from Son. The film offers no explanation for it, and I suspect this probably wasn't so much an oversight by screenwriter Wyllis Cooper as it was a necessity for the story as crafted.
And, lo and behold, Universal Pictures really went all-in with the inevitably release of Son ... as they scheduled it for its full U.S. theatrical exhibition on -- dumm dumm dumm -- Friday the 13th, 1939!
God bless those marketing geniuses!
Here's the plot summaryk as provided by the good people at IMDB.com:
"Returning to the ancestral castle long after the death of the monster, the son of Dr. Frankenstein meets a mad shepherd who is hiding the comatose creature. To clear the family name, he revives the creature and tries to rehabilitate him."
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
-- EZ
- Published on
Generally speaking, I’m not a fan of biographies.
Now, this isn’t to say that I don’t respect the lives that some folks lead because nothing could be further from the truth. I have tremendous regard for folks who’ve contributed in even the smallest ways to the worlds of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror, and you’re looking at the proof right now: if I didn’t, then why would I have a website like SciFiHistory.Net wherein I’ve researched an incredible amount of genre minutiae for the purpose of sharing it with like-minded folks at each and every opportunity? The footsteps left behind – no matter how impactful or insignificant – do deserve preservation in the truest sense of the word, and that’s precisely what I’m all about in this space.
I suppose it would be safe to point out that biographies tend to operate a bit too much from the perspective of the biographer and not so much the person being eulogized in the feature. Like it or not, every single one of us has an agenda, and I think that the natural human tendency to remain true to one’s unique perspective gets in the way, especially when dealing with things that might otherwise be as trivial as dates, names, and places. Because of how we’re wired, we intrinsically try to ascribe meaning to these little components when – realistically – there may be none. So … color me cynical when it comes to the traditional biography. That’s how I’m wired.
Still, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to view Gerry Anderson: A Life Uncharted … and I’m all too happy to explain why. Succinctly, I grew up on these shows on this side of the pond (i.e. America) when not too many of my contemporaries or classmates did. Stingray, Fireball XL5, and – most especially – Thunderbirds were exactly what I watched whenever I could find them in U.S. television syndication. Heck, even segments of them played as part of some weekday morning children’s programming out of Chicago (not all that far where I was raised), and these stories captivated me. I couldn’t get enough of them, and – those days long ago being an era wherein your only hope was watching something live when it aired – I’d stop whatever I was doing when they came on.
When I got to college, I was aghast to find that – lo and behold – practically no one had ever heard of them. Granted, there were shows they treasured foreign to me (or ones I wanted no part of), but I just couldn’t believe that Anderson’s adventures had escaped their discovery. You can only imagine how much I pitied those poor, unfortunate souls …
(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:
“In a fitting tribute to a television and film pioneer, and with permission from the Gerry Anderson estate, Gerry Anderson: A Life Uncharted uses a wealth of intimate audio archive combined with deep fake technology to allow Gerry to tell his story on screen for the first time. With additional new interviews and commentary from friends, family, and colleagues, this film provides a unique examination of Gerry Anderson’s life and his perspective on his tumultuous personal and business relationships.”
It ain’t easy being a genius.
If you take one thing away from my review of A Life Uncharted, then I want it to be this: Anderson is, was, and will remain a genius in my eyes ‘til my last days. He pioneered children’s programming unlike anyone else in the industry, always choosing to push the envelope up to the point wherein – if he couldn’t push it any further – then he’d simply create an all-new one. While other ‘creators’ were simply picking up an already established storytelling rubric and reformatting it to the genre, Anderson was busying himself and those around him with trying something that hadn’t quite been done before.
Now, this isn’t to say that I don’t respect the lives that some folks lead because nothing could be further from the truth. I have tremendous regard for folks who’ve contributed in even the smallest ways to the worlds of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror, and you’re looking at the proof right now: if I didn’t, then why would I have a website like SciFiHistory.Net wherein I’ve researched an incredible amount of genre minutiae for the purpose of sharing it with like-minded folks at each and every opportunity? The footsteps left behind – no matter how impactful or insignificant – do deserve preservation in the truest sense of the word, and that’s precisely what I’m all about in this space.
I suppose it would be safe to point out that biographies tend to operate a bit too much from the perspective of the biographer and not so much the person being eulogized in the feature. Like it or not, every single one of us has an agenda, and I think that the natural human tendency to remain true to one’s unique perspective gets in the way, especially when dealing with things that might otherwise be as trivial as dates, names, and places. Because of how we’re wired, we intrinsically try to ascribe meaning to these little components when – realistically – there may be none. So … color me cynical when it comes to the traditional biography. That’s how I’m wired.
Still, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to view Gerry Anderson: A Life Uncharted … and I’m all too happy to explain why. Succinctly, I grew up on these shows on this side of the pond (i.e. America) when not too many of my contemporaries or classmates did. Stingray, Fireball XL5, and – most especially – Thunderbirds were exactly what I watched whenever I could find them in U.S. television syndication. Heck, even segments of them played as part of some weekday morning children’s programming out of Chicago (not all that far where I was raised), and these stories captivated me. I couldn’t get enough of them, and – those days long ago being an era wherein your only hope was watching something live when it aired – I’d stop whatever I was doing when they came on.
When I got to college, I was aghast to find that – lo and behold – practically no one had ever heard of them. Granted, there were shows they treasured foreign to me (or ones I wanted no part of), but I just couldn’t believe that Anderson’s adventures had escaped their discovery. You can only imagine how much I pitied those poor, unfortunate souls …
(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:
“In a fitting tribute to a television and film pioneer, and with permission from the Gerry Anderson estate, Gerry Anderson: A Life Uncharted uses a wealth of intimate audio archive combined with deep fake technology to allow Gerry to tell his story on screen for the first time. With additional new interviews and commentary from friends, family, and colleagues, this film provides a unique examination of Gerry Anderson’s life and his perspective on his tumultuous personal and business relationships.”
It ain’t easy being a genius.
If you take one thing away from my review of A Life Uncharted, then I want it to be this: Anderson is, was, and will remain a genius in my eyes ‘til my last days. He pioneered children’s programming unlike anyone else in the industry, always choosing to push the envelope up to the point wherein – if he couldn’t push it any further – then he’d simply create an all-new one. While other ‘creators’ were simply picking up an already established storytelling rubric and reformatting it to the genre, Anderson was busying himself and those around him with trying something that hadn’t quite been done before.
When you spend six decades in the dog-eat-dog world of show business, you’re bound to make a few enemies along the way; and I suspect that’s part-and-parcel of what dogged the man up until his demise. Granted, it’s easy for any of us to ‘Monday Morning Quarterback’ the situations Anderson found himself in and prognosticate a way bad blood might’ve been avoided, but to do so diminishes the person who lived his life to the fullest in the moment. Whatever feuds he found himself in as a consequence of his actions or those around him, I’ll let those matters be. I wasn’t there. I don’t pretend to have supreme knowledge. Who am I to cast a stone?
What Uncharted charts very well is Anderson’s often tumultuous relationships with his family – with his creatives – and with those who joined him – however briefly – in his rise to fame and not-so-much fortune. Yes, it dabbles here and there with an almost tabloid perspective – anyone who knows even a small part of the man’s story is aware that he and Sylvia didn’t exactly part amicably – and, as a viewer, I merely chose not to make too much of those vignettes. Ultimately, they are what they are – they certainly can’t be changed – and, thankfully, not a wealth of time is spent trying to psychoanalyze any of the particulars; those tasked with responding to them in the biography largely stay respectful, choosing instead to focus on the legacy and not the liaisons.
Also, the documentary benefits from giving son Jamie Anderson the opportunity to explore his late father’s true biography, exploring a bit more about Gerry’s upbringing as well as the personal struggles a flawed formative experience likely descended from organically. Thankfully, it never wallows in forgiveness the way some other bios I’ve seen has; instead, it just tries to paint as accurate a picture it can – without taking a stand – while preserving the respect perhaps a child feels is owed a parent.
Mind you: not an awful lot of time is spent actually on Anderson’s various creations. Of course, they fit in well enough with the chronology of the man’s life as recounted here; but if you’re tuning in for the purpose of getting some inside trivia regarding Super-marionation at its finest, then you might come away disappointed. The creator and those closest to him always remain Uncharted’s central focus, and for that I suspect all in the audience can be thankful.
Gerry Anderson: A Life Uncharted (2022) was produced by Anderson Entertainment and The Format Factory. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at MVD Visual. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights and sounds of this production to be fabulous. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Alas, there aren’t any … but that’s not a real disappointment here. What matters most in biographies is the biography, and this one informs and educates fairly evenly throughout.
Highly Recommended.
As I’m predisposed to distrust biographies (for reasons I explained above), I did go into Gerry Anderson: A Life Uncharted not expecting all that much. It’s show business, after all, so any person who did as much as he did was going to make friends and enemies; and that’s largely how the first half (or so) unspooled. But as director Benjamin Field shaped the second half – the aging creator’s twilight years – I found myself slowly won over by the charm of an old man facing his last days and still wanting to contribute something – maybe even something greater – than all he’d already accomplished. That and the ability of true fans to want to reach-out-and-touch the genius that inspired so many of their best days of youth did have this one tugging at my heartstrings.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at MVD Visual provided me with a complimentary DVD of Gerry Anderson: A Life Uncharted 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
What Uncharted charts very well is Anderson’s often tumultuous relationships with his family – with his creatives – and with those who joined him – however briefly – in his rise to fame and not-so-much fortune. Yes, it dabbles here and there with an almost tabloid perspective – anyone who knows even a small part of the man’s story is aware that he and Sylvia didn’t exactly part amicably – and, as a viewer, I merely chose not to make too much of those vignettes. Ultimately, they are what they are – they certainly can’t be changed – and, thankfully, not a wealth of time is spent trying to psychoanalyze any of the particulars; those tasked with responding to them in the biography largely stay respectful, choosing instead to focus on the legacy and not the liaisons.
Also, the documentary benefits from giving son Jamie Anderson the opportunity to explore his late father’s true biography, exploring a bit more about Gerry’s upbringing as well as the personal struggles a flawed formative experience likely descended from organically. Thankfully, it never wallows in forgiveness the way some other bios I’ve seen has; instead, it just tries to paint as accurate a picture it can – without taking a stand – while preserving the respect perhaps a child feels is owed a parent.
Mind you: not an awful lot of time is spent actually on Anderson’s various creations. Of course, they fit in well enough with the chronology of the man’s life as recounted here; but if you’re tuning in for the purpose of getting some inside trivia regarding Super-marionation at its finest, then you might come away disappointed. The creator and those closest to him always remain Uncharted’s central focus, and for that I suspect all in the audience can be thankful.
Gerry Anderson: A Life Uncharted (2022) was produced by Anderson Entertainment and The Format Factory. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at MVD Visual. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights and sounds of this production to be fabulous. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Alas, there aren’t any … but that’s not a real disappointment here. What matters most in biographies is the biography, and this one informs and educates fairly evenly throughout.
Highly Recommended.
As I’m predisposed to distrust biographies (for reasons I explained above), I did go into Gerry Anderson: A Life Uncharted not expecting all that much. It’s show business, after all, so any person who did as much as he did was going to make friends and enemies; and that’s largely how the first half (or so) unspooled. But as director Benjamin Field shaped the second half – the aging creator’s twilight years – I found myself slowly won over by the charm of an old man facing his last days and still wanting to contribute something – maybe even something greater – than all he’d already accomplished. That and the ability of true fans to want to reach-out-and-touch the genius that inspired so many of their best days of youth did have this one tugging at my heartstrings.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at MVD Visual provided me with a complimentary DVD of Gerry Anderson: A Life Uncharted 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’re anywhere near as involved with film as I am, then you know what I mean when I say that we all have this flick that we’ve never fully watched because our friends have warned us to stay the Hell away from it.
Frankly, I have an ever-expanding list. I seriously do. Mostly, I have it because friends and acquaintances know just how hard I can be on productions, so they’ve tried to spare me the experience of sitting through an incredible if not exhaustive number of B-Movies. When I remind them that I tend to enjoy B-Movies far more than I do many mainstream, tent-pole releases, then they might qualify their reasoning further; and it usually boils down to the sentiments that – in their opinion – I just won’t like it. While a good many of them have been proven wrong, I still respect their opinions.
And Nico Mastorakis’ Nightmare At Noon has been on my ‘To Avoid’ list for a very long time.
My memory may be faulty at this point, but I believe I was first exposed to it when a co-worker at the time insisted he found it the worst movie ever made. Given that this fellow and I rarely agreed on a picture (he tended to enjoy a great deal of bizarre projects that left me a bit empty), I challenged him on it, asking for a few more specifics, encouraging him to actually ‘sell me’ on why the film was so bad. In the end, his perspective boiled down to the fact that so much of the resulting action made so little sense, and he conclusively felt it was one I should forever dismiss.
Well …
I’ve gone and done the unthinkable, mostly because that’s what I do from time-to-time, and I finally watched Nightmare At Noon in total. Having done so, I realize that I have seen snippets of it – most likely on various cable airings – so I did have some familiarity with its set-up and some of what my friend suggested was flawed production. The straight skinny is that – entirely as a B-Movie – I didn’t find it nearly as inferior as I expected to … but that may not be a good thing, either.
(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 …)
Frankly, I have an ever-expanding list. I seriously do. Mostly, I have it because friends and acquaintances know just how hard I can be on productions, so they’ve tried to spare me the experience of sitting through an incredible if not exhaustive number of B-Movies. When I remind them that I tend to enjoy B-Movies far more than I do many mainstream, tent-pole releases, then they might qualify their reasoning further; and it usually boils down to the sentiments that – in their opinion – I just won’t like it. While a good many of them have been proven wrong, I still respect their opinions.
And Nico Mastorakis’ Nightmare At Noon has been on my ‘To Avoid’ list for a very long time.
My memory may be faulty at this point, but I believe I was first exposed to it when a co-worker at the time insisted he found it the worst movie ever made. Given that this fellow and I rarely agreed on a picture (he tended to enjoy a great deal of bizarre projects that left me a bit empty), I challenged him on it, asking for a few more specifics, encouraging him to actually ‘sell me’ on why the film was so bad. In the end, his perspective boiled down to the fact that so much of the resulting action made so little sense, and he conclusively felt it was one I should forever dismiss.
Well …
I’ve gone and done the unthinkable, mostly because that’s what I do from time-to-time, and I finally watched Nightmare At Noon in total. Having done so, I realize that I have seen snippets of it – most likely on various cable airings – so I did have some familiarity with its set-up and some of what my friend suggested was flawed production. The straight skinny is that – entirely as a B-Movie – I didn’t find it nearly as inferior as I expected to … but that may not be a good thing, either.
(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 citation:
“Scientists poison the water supply of a small town, turning residents into homicidal maniacs who kill each other and anybody who passes through.”
I’ve often said that one of the pleasures I take from the old-fashioned B-Movie is that – somewhere in all of that mess and gibberish – I often find the grains to a very good idea, and Nightmare At Noon (aka Death Street USA) is no different. Furthermore, writer/director Nico Mastorakis actually constructs his SciFi-lite conspiracy thriller around a fairly solid foundation, but – if I’m staying true to the Golden Rule – he really had miles to go before I decided to release it in the form available for mass consumption.
This Nightmare begins in the dark: some Albino madman sits in the interior of a high-tech, government-issued super-van, and he’s plunking out information on a computer keyboard indicating that his tests are underway. Some backwoods passerby pulls up in a pick-up truck, and – after asking what the lunatic and all his armed henchmen are up to – he’s savagely gunned down, with he and his truck being pushed into some nearby reservoir. Deviously, the villain smiles on, and at this point Mastorakis has firmly established that we’re in for something big masterminded by a rogue with little regard for human life.
Yet, it’s after this terrific set-up that the wheels quickly come off the Nightmare.
Before you know it, we’re introduced to a handful of characters – the true cast we’ll follow much more closely for the rest of the feature. Ken (played by Wings Hauser) and Cheri Griffiths (the stunning Kimberly Beck) travelling the area in an RV, and – for a bit of excitement – they pick up hitchhiker Reilly (Bo Hopkins) on their way into the mountain city of Canyonland. When they arrive, they suddenly find themselves tossed into the middle of madness: something is causing the residents to abandon all reason and lash out violently against their fellow citizens. Once Cheri succumbs to the virus the plot turns personal for Ken and Reilly, and they join Sheriff Hanks (George Kennedy) and his deputized daughter in trying to regain law and order as well as find a solution to this new plague.
In many ways, the idea behind Nightmare – this water-borne experiment enacted on a tiny town in the middle of nowhere – is the kind of thing that has fueled several good thrillers, along with getting screen time in such programs as Millennium, The Stand, and The X-Files. Heck, it’s built even better, more compelling adventures when brought to the silver screen in such films as Invasion Of The Body Snatchers (1956), The Andromeda Strain (1971), or 28 Days Later (2003). When the victims don’t know where it’s coming from and they’re Hell-bent on both uncovering it as well as exposing it, these stories have the opportunity to be so much more than just good entertainment: they end up telling us a bit about ourselves and our society, making us look a bit more closely at how things get done and how we might be hurting ourselves and our environment.
“Scientists poison the water supply of a small town, turning residents into homicidal maniacs who kill each other and anybody who passes through.”
I’ve often said that one of the pleasures I take from the old-fashioned B-Movie is that – somewhere in all of that mess and gibberish – I often find the grains to a very good idea, and Nightmare At Noon (aka Death Street USA) is no different. Furthermore, writer/director Nico Mastorakis actually constructs his SciFi-lite conspiracy thriller around a fairly solid foundation, but – if I’m staying true to the Golden Rule – he really had miles to go before I decided to release it in the form available for mass consumption.
This Nightmare begins in the dark: some Albino madman sits in the interior of a high-tech, government-issued super-van, and he’s plunking out information on a computer keyboard indicating that his tests are underway. Some backwoods passerby pulls up in a pick-up truck, and – after asking what the lunatic and all his armed henchmen are up to – he’s savagely gunned down, with he and his truck being pushed into some nearby reservoir. Deviously, the villain smiles on, and at this point Mastorakis has firmly established that we’re in for something big masterminded by a rogue with little regard for human life.
Yet, it’s after this terrific set-up that the wheels quickly come off the Nightmare.
Before you know it, we’re introduced to a handful of characters – the true cast we’ll follow much more closely for the rest of the feature. Ken (played by Wings Hauser) and Cheri Griffiths (the stunning Kimberly Beck) travelling the area in an RV, and – for a bit of excitement – they pick up hitchhiker Reilly (Bo Hopkins) on their way into the mountain city of Canyonland. When they arrive, they suddenly find themselves tossed into the middle of madness: something is causing the residents to abandon all reason and lash out violently against their fellow citizens. Once Cheri succumbs to the virus the plot turns personal for Ken and Reilly, and they join Sheriff Hanks (George Kennedy) and his deputized daughter in trying to regain law and order as well as find a solution to this new plague.
In many ways, the idea behind Nightmare – this water-borne experiment enacted on a tiny town in the middle of nowhere – is the kind of thing that has fueled several good thrillers, along with getting screen time in such programs as Millennium, The Stand, and The X-Files. Heck, it’s built even better, more compelling adventures when brought to the silver screen in such films as Invasion Of The Body Snatchers (1956), The Andromeda Strain (1971), or 28 Days Later (2003). When the victims don’t know where it’s coming from and they’re Hell-bent on both uncovering it as well as exposing it, these stories have the opportunity to be so much more than just good entertainment: they end up telling us a bit about ourselves and our society, making us look a bit more closely at how things get done and how we might be hurting ourselves and our environment.
But Mastorakis’ intent here appears to be little more than fueling pure escapism.
The Albino – dressed like a milkman from the 1950’s – is given no agenda. We’re not told why he’s loosing this plague, and we’re left to only our own individual assumptions. (FYI: that’s never a good narrative decision.) Though he’s given the background of serving the A.P.E. (Agency for the Protection of the Environment), his screen duties do not in any way look like he’s actively trying to do good on behalf of Mother Nature; in fact, it looks like – come the big finish – he was doing this to merely rack up a body count. He even eventually offs all of his henchmen for no reason that’s ever discussed. Such gratuitousness should’ve been explained or relegated to a lesser feature. This is an even greater shame when considering the fact that this character was played by the late Brion James, a man who knew more than his fair share about bringing some of filmdom’s most curious baddies to life.
Also, Mastorakis’ script seems to stumble its way through major and minor plot points and developments, preferring character exposition instead of allowing for events to unfurl organically. Sheriff Hanks and his daughter, in particular, spend an awful lot of screen time filling in the blanks (the pick-up truck found in the lake points to some sabotage; the hospital tested victims’ blood and it’s revealed as acid; the main roads out of town are blocked by some secret technology; how did every magically get healed of the virus; why are there all of these abandoned vehicles parked in the mountains; etc.). Instead of structuring events on film that could’ve underscored such advances in the story, the viewers are told all too often, and this kills any possible momentum the picture could otherwise build on its own merits.
See, there’s a claustrophobia inherent to living in small towns. (I say this as one who grew up in one!) You’re always feeling cut off from a wider world. You’re largely independent from society, and you’re often feeling isolated, especially when help is required. Mastorakis largely ignores this reality, instead mapping out modestly complex run-and-shoot exchanges between Nightmares’ good guys and bad guys. (Somehow, there’s ample ammunition available out here in the sticks!) Eventually, he even stages an elaborate helicopter chase-and-showdown in the mountains that lasts far longer than was absolutely necessary and – gasp! – involves not a single character – good or bad – from the film we just watched. With no investment – with no hero or criminal we know in it – this aerial spectacle feels like a five-minute sidebar all of its own. It ground the picture to a halt like nothing I’ve ever seen.
The sum of all of these weaknesses does keep Nightmare from becoming the small screen’s ‘dream come true.’ At best, the film offers some middling performances from some solid talent … but its core conspiracy remains an idea good enough that it’ll likely continue to live on elsewhere in better productions.
The Albino – dressed like a milkman from the 1950’s – is given no agenda. We’re not told why he’s loosing this plague, and we’re left to only our own individual assumptions. (FYI: that’s never a good narrative decision.) Though he’s given the background of serving the A.P.E. (Agency for the Protection of the Environment), his screen duties do not in any way look like he’s actively trying to do good on behalf of Mother Nature; in fact, it looks like – come the big finish – he was doing this to merely rack up a body count. He even eventually offs all of his henchmen for no reason that’s ever discussed. Such gratuitousness should’ve been explained or relegated to a lesser feature. This is an even greater shame when considering the fact that this character was played by the late Brion James, a man who knew more than his fair share about bringing some of filmdom’s most curious baddies to life.
Also, Mastorakis’ script seems to stumble its way through major and minor plot points and developments, preferring character exposition instead of allowing for events to unfurl organically. Sheriff Hanks and his daughter, in particular, spend an awful lot of screen time filling in the blanks (the pick-up truck found in the lake points to some sabotage; the hospital tested victims’ blood and it’s revealed as acid; the main roads out of town are blocked by some secret technology; how did every magically get healed of the virus; why are there all of these abandoned vehicles parked in the mountains; etc.). Instead of structuring events on film that could’ve underscored such advances in the story, the viewers are told all too often, and this kills any possible momentum the picture could otherwise build on its own merits.
See, there’s a claustrophobia inherent to living in small towns. (I say this as one who grew up in one!) You’re always feeling cut off from a wider world. You’re largely independent from society, and you’re often feeling isolated, especially when help is required. Mastorakis largely ignores this reality, instead mapping out modestly complex run-and-shoot exchanges between Nightmares’ good guys and bad guys. (Somehow, there’s ample ammunition available out here in the sticks!) Eventually, he even stages an elaborate helicopter chase-and-showdown in the mountains that lasts far longer than was absolutely necessary and – gasp! – involves not a single character – good or bad – from the film we just watched. With no investment – with no hero or criminal we know in it – this aerial spectacle feels like a five-minute sidebar all of its own. It ground the picture to a halt like nothing I’ve ever seen.
The sum of all of these weaknesses does keep Nightmare from becoming the small screen’s ‘dream come true.’ At best, the film offers some middling performances from some solid talent … but its core conspiracy remains an idea good enough that it’ll likely continue to live on elsewhere in better productions.
Nightmare At Noon (1988) was produced by Omega Entertainment. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good people at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights and sounds in this release to be exceptional good. As for the special features? Honestly, Arrow never disappoints – knock on wood, anyway – and fans do have a great assortment to look forward to here, including a retrospective on Mastorakis’ career, some on-set interviews, behind-the-scenes stuff, an image gallery, and the theatrical trailer.
Mildly recommended.
If I’m being total honest with myself, then I’d confess that Nightmare At Noon isn’t as much the bomb I’d been lead to believe it was over the years. Yes, it has some narrative problems here and there; and, yes, the whole premise of the flick’s dastardly villain gets no real exposure. Still, it’s capably made and reasonably well-acted, and that’s in spite of essentially taking audiences on a wild ride with an ending that’s predictably from the onset. But George Kennedy, Bo Hopkins, and Wings Hauser were an affably enough trio in this basement thriller that I can forgive an awful lot of sins.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray screener of Nightmare At Noon (1988) 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.
If I’m being total honest with myself, then I’d confess that Nightmare At Noon isn’t as much the bomb I’d been lead to believe it was over the years. Yes, it has some narrative problems here and there; and, yes, the whole premise of the flick’s dastardly villain gets no real exposure. Still, it’s capably made and reasonably well-acted, and that’s in spite of essentially taking audiences on a wild ride with an ending that’s predictably from the onset. But George Kennedy, Bo Hopkins, and Wings Hauser were an affably enough trio in this basement thriller that I can forgive an awful lot of sins.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray screener of Nightmare At Noon (1988) 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
Stardate 01.10.2023.B: Happy Birthday - 1986's 'Black Moon Rising' Drove Off Into Genre Film History
"Hello. I'll take the keys to the Rolls Royce, the Excalibur, the Aston Martin, and the two Mercedes." -- Nina
1986’s Black Moon Rising is one of those films that, occasionally, pops into my head for no particular reason I can figure.
I have a vague recollection of seeing it on the big screen when it came out, and I believe I gave it a rewatch not all that long after when it came out on home video. I don’t recall being all that impressed with it – as I said, my recall of it is a bit nebulous – but as is always the case in films centered on fast moving vehicles what truly matters most is, was, and forever will be ‘the car’ … and I’m pretty sure I found this one damn nifty up there in the lights. It may not have been the kind of thing I would’ve wanted to drive, but it made for some grand action sequences – nothing quite on par with the Fast and the Furious franchise, but hey! It was the 1980’s!
IMDB.com reports that the script was written by John Carpenter, Desmond Nakano, and William Gray; and I believe it was heavily promoted at the time using the Carpenter name. Harley Cokeliss directed, and I do know that Cokeliss had helmed Battletruck (1982) only a few years before. Perhaps the association with futuristic vehicles was what the producers had on their mind when the signed the writer/director to the gig. And what an impressive cast! Tommy Lee Jones. Linda Hamilton. Richard Jaeckel. And the great Robert Vaughn, one of my all-time favorite actors (who never quite gets the love he deserves).
Here’s the film’s plot summary as provided by the good people at IMDB.com:
“A thief, Quint, is hired by the Justice Department to steal incriminating tapes from a corrupt corporation. The tapes vanish when Quint hides them in the back of a hydrodynamic powered racing car that is stolen by a hot car ring.”
I have a vague recollection of seeing it on the big screen when it came out, and I believe I gave it a rewatch not all that long after when it came out on home video. I don’t recall being all that impressed with it – as I said, my recall of it is a bit nebulous – but as is always the case in films centered on fast moving vehicles what truly matters most is, was, and forever will be ‘the car’ … and I’m pretty sure I found this one damn nifty up there in the lights. It may not have been the kind of thing I would’ve wanted to drive, but it made for some grand action sequences – nothing quite on par with the Fast and the Furious franchise, but hey! It was the 1980’s!
IMDB.com reports that the script was written by John Carpenter, Desmond Nakano, and William Gray; and I believe it was heavily promoted at the time using the Carpenter name. Harley Cokeliss directed, and I do know that Cokeliss had helmed Battletruck (1982) only a few years before. Perhaps the association with futuristic vehicles was what the producers had on their mind when the signed the writer/director to the gig. And what an impressive cast! Tommy Lee Jones. Linda Hamilton. Richard Jaeckel. And the great Robert Vaughn, one of my all-time favorite actors (who never quite gets the love he deserves).
Here’s the film’s plot summary as provided by the good people at IMDB.com:
“A thief, Quint, is hired by the Justice Department to steal incriminating tapes from a corrupt corporation. The tapes vanish when Quint hides them in the back of a hydrodynamic powered racing car that is stolen by a hot car ring.”
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
-- EZ
- Published on
"At this very moment, they could be making all those men out there turn their guns on one another!" - Dr. Llewellyn
We humans have a tendency of fearing that which we do not understand … and I suppose it’s the end of the world as we know it when these things somehow miraculously ‘pair up’ … so has their been a more frightening pairing of two things we probably understand least: mental powers … and CHILDREN?!?!?!
From what I’ve read, 1964’s Children Of The Damned isn’t a direct sequel to 1960’s Village Of The Damned, but they were intended to kinda/sorta exist in the same cinematic universe. For all intents and purposes, Village was conceived to be a filmed adaptation of the John Wyndham novel “The Midwich Cuckoos” published in 1957, and Children states that it was crafted to serve as a thematic sequel to it. Reviews were apparently mixed – follow-ups can be a tricky business, as we all know, and I can imagine assembling a follow-up that wasn’t exactly a follow-up may’ve confused both critics and audiences of the day – but a quick review of some of what’s been written online shows that this chiller has its own sort of appeal, much of which is likely owed to the creepiness of its central stars.
Anton Leader was brought in to direct the film, and – from what I’m seeing on IMDB.com – it looks as if his only legitimate genre contribution prior to this was helming two episodes of Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone. He’d go one to direct episodes of Lost In Space, It’s About Time, Mr. Terrific, Star Trek (1968’s “For The World Is Hollow And I Have Touched The Sky”), and Get Smart. John Briley wrote the screenplay, and – interestingly enough – he’d kinda/sorta revisit the realm of mental powers when he adapted the 1973 novel by Peter Van Greenaway “The Medusa Touch” for the silver screen (in 1978). That flick starred acting heavyweight Richard Burton, and it received a Saturn Award nomination in the category of ‘Best Horror Film’ in 1979 … so maybe – just maybe – the second time’s the charm, not the third.
In any event, here’s Children’s plot summary as provided by the good people at IMDB.com:
“Six impossibly intelligent children from all over the world with dangerous psychic powers hide in a church in England after the military tries to experiment on them. Besieged, they warn the military to back off before carnage ensues.”
From what I’ve read, 1964’s Children Of The Damned isn’t a direct sequel to 1960’s Village Of The Damned, but they were intended to kinda/sorta exist in the same cinematic universe. For all intents and purposes, Village was conceived to be a filmed adaptation of the John Wyndham novel “The Midwich Cuckoos” published in 1957, and Children states that it was crafted to serve as a thematic sequel to it. Reviews were apparently mixed – follow-ups can be a tricky business, as we all know, and I can imagine assembling a follow-up that wasn’t exactly a follow-up may’ve confused both critics and audiences of the day – but a quick review of some of what’s been written online shows that this chiller has its own sort of appeal, much of which is likely owed to the creepiness of its central stars.
Anton Leader was brought in to direct the film, and – from what I’m seeing on IMDB.com – it looks as if his only legitimate genre contribution prior to this was helming two episodes of Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone. He’d go one to direct episodes of Lost In Space, It’s About Time, Mr. Terrific, Star Trek (1968’s “For The World Is Hollow And I Have Touched The Sky”), and Get Smart. John Briley wrote the screenplay, and – interestingly enough – he’d kinda/sorta revisit the realm of mental powers when he adapted the 1973 novel by Peter Van Greenaway “The Medusa Touch” for the silver screen (in 1978). That flick starred acting heavyweight Richard Burton, and it received a Saturn Award nomination in the category of ‘Best Horror Film’ in 1979 … so maybe – just maybe – the second time’s the charm, not the third.
In any event, here’s Children’s plot summary as provided by the good people at IMDB.com:
“Six impossibly intelligent children from all over the world with dangerous psychic powers hide in a church in England after the military tries to experiment on them. Besieged, they warn the military to back off before carnage ensues.”
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
-- EZ
- Published on
My, my, my ... where have the last thirty years gone?
You might ask yourself that question if you -- like me -- enjoyed this Bill Murray Comedy/Classic in theaters when it first played an incredible three decades ago this year. Sigh. Three decades?! Where does the time go? Wouldn't it be great to get stuck in some time loop like Murray did in this so that we'd never age and experience an endless series of opportunities to finally get something right that the universe decided you got so wrong it had to be fixed? Sigh (again). I guess maybe that's just my age showing ...
In any event, I bring Groundhog Day up for the sole reason of letting you know that it's New Releases Tuesday once again, and Sony Pictures has given audiences a new 4K release of the Harold Ramis picture. From what I'm seeing on Blu-ray.com, this collection actually includes a 4K disc, a regular Blu-ray disc, and a digital copy. Yes, yes, yes: those digital copies are pretty grand so that way you can take this one with you wherever you go ... not that the modern age of COVID allows us to go places all that much. Still, it's nice to have, so -- if you're interested -- maybe head on out to the nearest media outlet and pick yourselves up a copy ... either that, or surf on over to Amazon.com and put in your order.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
You might ask yourself that question if you -- like me -- enjoyed this Bill Murray Comedy/Classic in theaters when it first played an incredible three decades ago this year. Sigh. Three decades?! Where does the time go? Wouldn't it be great to get stuck in some time loop like Murray did in this so that we'd never age and experience an endless series of opportunities to finally get something right that the universe decided you got so wrong it had to be fixed? Sigh (again). I guess maybe that's just my age showing ...
In any event, I bring Groundhog Day up for the sole reason of letting you know that it's New Releases Tuesday once again, and Sony Pictures has given audiences a new 4K release of the Harold Ramis picture. From what I'm seeing on Blu-ray.com, this collection actually includes a 4K disc, a regular Blu-ray disc, and a digital copy. Yes, yes, yes: those digital copies are pretty grand so that way you can take this one with you wherever you go ... not that the modern age of COVID allows us to go places all that much. Still, it's nice to have, so -- if you're interested -- maybe head on out to the nearest media outlet and pick yourselves up a copy ... either that, or surf on over to Amazon.com and put in your order.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Hey there, happy readers, and Happy Tuesday! Hope your day is off to as great a start as mine!
One of the events the wifey and I get to look forward to here in Arizona each year are these incredible arts and craft shows. Now, I know what you might be thinking: "What, pray tell, do arts and crafts shows have to do with Science Fiction and Fantasy?" Well, in most cases, I'd honestly agree with you. We grew up in the midwest, and most of the art fairs we attended we very -- erm -- how does one say this respectfully? Well, let's just call them more 'home specific.' Those fairs really didn't have much merchandise -- arts or crafts -- that would appeal to the serious genre enthusiast, and a lot of the stuff featured was most kitschy fare. Nothing that really caught my eye.
But ... here in Arizona?
These are much more 'artisan' craft fairs where some of the most seriously talented folks display items -- prints, clothing, jewelry, and kitschy items -- that are quite elaborate or very, very nice. Pricing tends to be significantly more than what we grew up around in Illinois, but the quality is -- by far -- head and shoulders over the purchases from my distant memory.
Normally, we take in the Tempe Arts Fair. It's held twice annually in downtown Tempe, very near Arizona State University ... but, this year, we went all the way up to Fountain Hills (circa Scottsdale, AZ) for a Friday morning. This was a venue we hadn't seen before ... and, boy, am I glad we did.
Again, normally there isn't all that much to catch a genre fans eye ... so you can imagine how quickly I made my way to Eric Dorris Designs' booth as soon as I saw it. The wifey and I probably spent 20 minutes just marvelling at the guy's incredible, incredible work; and she insisted that I pick out a few items for my upcoming birthday. (God loves a good woman!) I did -- three, in fact -- and I just finished hanging them in alcove over our staircase this morning. As excited as a guy can be, I wanted to share them -- in this space -- so that readers could see what greets me now as I make my way up to the den for my blog work.
Seriously, this guy's stuff is good enough to make you cry!
I strongly encourage interested folks to check out the man's website, and you can find it right here. For those curious, he doesn't just do genre stuff. Of course, his Star Wars, Star Trek, and Marvel creations caught my eye first, but in clicking through his online presence there are musicians, athletes, Horror, and more. Again, I can't impress upon you just how good this stuff looks up-close-and-personal -- the best way to see any of it -- but take a gander at his corner of the Information Superhighway.
Without a doubt, I'll be checking out his booth at these art fairs in the future. If he isn't there, then I'll be checking online. I'm already planning what I want for my next birthday.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
One of the events the wifey and I get to look forward to here in Arizona each year are these incredible arts and craft shows. Now, I know what you might be thinking: "What, pray tell, do arts and crafts shows have to do with Science Fiction and Fantasy?" Well, in most cases, I'd honestly agree with you. We grew up in the midwest, and most of the art fairs we attended we very -- erm -- how does one say this respectfully? Well, let's just call them more 'home specific.' Those fairs really didn't have much merchandise -- arts or crafts -- that would appeal to the serious genre enthusiast, and a lot of the stuff featured was most kitschy fare. Nothing that really caught my eye.
But ... here in Arizona?
These are much more 'artisan' craft fairs where some of the most seriously talented folks display items -- prints, clothing, jewelry, and kitschy items -- that are quite elaborate or very, very nice. Pricing tends to be significantly more than what we grew up around in Illinois, but the quality is -- by far -- head and shoulders over the purchases from my distant memory.
Normally, we take in the Tempe Arts Fair. It's held twice annually in downtown Tempe, very near Arizona State University ... but, this year, we went all the way up to Fountain Hills (circa Scottsdale, AZ) for a Friday morning. This was a venue we hadn't seen before ... and, boy, am I glad we did.
Again, normally there isn't all that much to catch a genre fans eye ... so you can imagine how quickly I made my way to Eric Dorris Designs' booth as soon as I saw it. The wifey and I probably spent 20 minutes just marvelling at the guy's incredible, incredible work; and she insisted that I pick out a few items for my upcoming birthday. (God loves a good woman!) I did -- three, in fact -- and I just finished hanging them in alcove over our staircase this morning. As excited as a guy can be, I wanted to share them -- in this space -- so that readers could see what greets me now as I make my way up to the den for my blog work.
Seriously, this guy's stuff is good enough to make you cry!
I strongly encourage interested folks to check out the man's website, and you can find it right here. For those curious, he doesn't just do genre stuff. Of course, his Star Wars, Star Trek, and Marvel creations caught my eye first, but in clicking through his online presence there are musicians, athletes, Horror, and more. Again, I can't impress upon you just how good this stuff looks up-close-and-personal -- the best way to see any of it -- but take a gander at his corner of the Information Superhighway.
Without a doubt, I'll be checking out his booth at these art fairs in the future. If he isn't there, then I'll be checking online. I'm already planning what I want for my next birthday.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
The novel Relic – written by Lincoln Child and Douglas Preston – was first published by Tor Books in 1995. Apparently, it was popular enough with readers and/or Hollywood insiders that the rights were snatched up quickly, and The Relic quickly went into production with a theatrical release date eyed for late 1996.
From what I’ve read, the novel was set at New York City’s American Museum Of Natural History, but – as can happen in the real world – apparently those in charge of running said institution were not so flattered with its depiction in the book. IMDB.com reports that representatives of Paramount Pictures were keen on mirroring Relic’s events as closely as possible, so they met with museum representatives in an attempt to smooth things out. Allegedly, the studio offered them a seven-figure sum in exchange for the rights to film there, but at this point they were more concerned that the depiction of the monster might due considerable damage to their reputation in the community, perhaps even going so far as to scare younger patrons away from the institution. As a result, The Relic was refashioned so that it could take place at the Field Museum Of Natural History located in Chicago, Illinois.
For those unaware, here’s the plot summary for the film as provided by the good folks at IMDB.com:
“A homicide detective and an anthropologist try to destroy a South American lizard-like god, who’s on a people-eating rampage in a Chicago museum.”
While I personally found the film more than a bit imperfect (my Flashback Review is posted on SciFiHistory.Net right here), I will admit to having a soft spot for it because it gave actress Penelope Ann Miller an incredible opportunity to headline a big budget Horror feature. (Don’t quote me on this, but I do believe this was her first Horror.) She’s a talent I’ve always loved, but – alas – studios seem to have wasted her in small roles where she never quite gets the attention I think she deserves.
In any event, BombReport.com suggests that The Relic was budgeted as around $40 million dollars US, but Wikipedia.org’s listing indicates a higher figure ($70M). Heck, even TheNumbers.com suggests that the film was produced for around $60M; and I can’t help but wonder if some of these differences are owed to production + advertising costs, though I suspect – Hollywood math being what Hollywood math is – I’ll never know. BombReport.com does show that the film grossed a disappointing $33M, a figure not all that terrible given the fact that insiders predicted it wouldn’t do well with audiences initially. Still, I think it’s fair to conclude that The Relic is best considered something as lost to history as are the artifacts still eluding an archaeologist’s discovery.
It's still my job to celebrate the good, the bad, and the ugly – box office be damned – on the site, so let me give it the proper shout-out today on the anniversary of its first screening (in the U.S.) back in 1997.
From what I’ve read, the novel was set at New York City’s American Museum Of Natural History, but – as can happen in the real world – apparently those in charge of running said institution were not so flattered with its depiction in the book. IMDB.com reports that representatives of Paramount Pictures were keen on mirroring Relic’s events as closely as possible, so they met with museum representatives in an attempt to smooth things out. Allegedly, the studio offered them a seven-figure sum in exchange for the rights to film there, but at this point they were more concerned that the depiction of the monster might due considerable damage to their reputation in the community, perhaps even going so far as to scare younger patrons away from the institution. As a result, The Relic was refashioned so that it could take place at the Field Museum Of Natural History located in Chicago, Illinois.
For those unaware, here’s the plot summary for the film as provided by the good folks at IMDB.com:
“A homicide detective and an anthropologist try to destroy a South American lizard-like god, who’s on a people-eating rampage in a Chicago museum.”
While I personally found the film more than a bit imperfect (my Flashback Review is posted on SciFiHistory.Net right here), I will admit to having a soft spot for it because it gave actress Penelope Ann Miller an incredible opportunity to headline a big budget Horror feature. (Don’t quote me on this, but I do believe this was her first Horror.) She’s a talent I’ve always loved, but – alas – studios seem to have wasted her in small roles where she never quite gets the attention I think she deserves.
In any event, BombReport.com suggests that The Relic was budgeted as around $40 million dollars US, but Wikipedia.org’s listing indicates a higher figure ($70M). Heck, even TheNumbers.com suggests that the film was produced for around $60M; and I can’t help but wonder if some of these differences are owed to production + advertising costs, though I suspect – Hollywood math being what Hollywood math is – I’ll never know. BombReport.com does show that the film grossed a disappointing $33M, a figure not all that terrible given the fact that insiders predicted it wouldn’t do well with audiences initially. Still, I think it’s fair to conclude that The Relic is best considered something as lost to history as are the artifacts still eluding an archaeologist’s discovery.
It's still my job to celebrate the good, the bad, and the ugly – box office be damned – on the site, so let me give it the proper shout-out today on the anniversary of its first screening (in the U.S.) back in 1997.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
-- EZ
- Published on
This time one year ago, I wasn't certain if I had seen The Kindred back in its day -- like on home video -- or not ... but in 2022 the flick received another release, this one compliments of the good people at Synapse Films. Heck, I was even lucky enough to score myself a complimentary copy of the monster movie, and I responded -- in kind -- with penning a review. Readers interested in knowing what I thought of the issue can find my review right here. The straight skinny is that it wasn't all-that-grand an experience, but I did think the producers did some nice work with the practical effects of the day, delivering something ultimately that's a fine 'one-off' experience but probably not worth a rewatch.
Still, let me do the old 'copy & paste' thing for what I said about The Kindred a year ago, and I do like to preserve these thoughts for posterity's sake ...
From the SciFiHistory.Net Archives of January 9, 2022
Like so many who write about film at my ripe old age, I’ve probably forgotten more titles than I care to remember.
I discovered my love of film in high school where growing up in a small town pretty much meant that Friday and Saturday nights were spent under the glow of the silver screen. I didn’t drink (didn’t smoke, either), I didn’t do sports or many extracurricular activities, so the bulk of that free time was spent watching just about anything that came through our little city. Sure, it meant that I saw many of the films of my youth more than once – movies were cheap entertainment back in the day – and I like I do now I tried to find something worthy in damn near anything I watched.
I continued following film very closely in college and after graduating. For a time, I thought I could make a career for myself as a movie critic or perhaps some kind of film historian; but it wasn’t meant to be. I did get accepted to a fairly exclusive graduate school program that would’ve set me on a potential path to working in writing about film; however that opportunity never quite developed due to circumstances way beyond my control, and I instead found myself gainfully employed in the world of work.
I bring this up largely because I’ve done a bit of research into The Kindred, a 1987 Science Fiction and Horror release from Kindred Limited Partnership that’s celebrating its thirty-fifth anniversary on this day in filmdom. From what I’ve seen online, a handful of the pictures look familiar … but, for the life of me, I can’t seem to recollect if this is a flick I saw at the time or have stumbled across in my research or have tidbits tucked away somewhere in my vast reserve of films I’ve yet to explore in greater depth on SciFiHistory.Net.
In any event, it looks as though The Kindred was first released exclusively in New York City on this day in 1987 (Source: IMDB.com). Neither IMDB.com nor Wikipedia.org cite any full U.S. theatrical release, but Box Office Mojo does show a combined U.S. and Canada gross just under $2.5 million. It appears that the film benefitted from a directing team of Stephen Carpenter and Jeffrey Obrow (who also scripted the feature with collaboration from John Penney). The film starred Rod Steiger, Amanda Pays, Kim Hunter, and David Allen Brooks in key roles. Lastly, it looks like there may have been multiple cuts – R-rated and the controversial ‘unrated’ – though I don’t see any indication that the film is currently available on DVD … a shame that’ll hopefully get corrected someday.
Here’s one of the plot summaries that’s listed for The Kindred on IMDB.com:
“Amanda’s deathbed request to her son, John, was for him to destroy all the lab notes etc. from her last experiment. She also blurts out he had a brother. At the funeral, John meets Melissa, who claims to be his mother’s biggest fan. Together with some of John’s friends, they go to Amanda’s house, but none are prepared for what they find there.”
Still, let me do the old 'copy & paste' thing for what I said about The Kindred a year ago, and I do like to preserve these thoughts for posterity's sake ...
From the SciFiHistory.Net Archives of January 9, 2022
Like so many who write about film at my ripe old age, I’ve probably forgotten more titles than I care to remember.
I discovered my love of film in high school where growing up in a small town pretty much meant that Friday and Saturday nights were spent under the glow of the silver screen. I didn’t drink (didn’t smoke, either), I didn’t do sports or many extracurricular activities, so the bulk of that free time was spent watching just about anything that came through our little city. Sure, it meant that I saw many of the films of my youth more than once – movies were cheap entertainment back in the day – and I like I do now I tried to find something worthy in damn near anything I watched.
I continued following film very closely in college and after graduating. For a time, I thought I could make a career for myself as a movie critic or perhaps some kind of film historian; but it wasn’t meant to be. I did get accepted to a fairly exclusive graduate school program that would’ve set me on a potential path to working in writing about film; however that opportunity never quite developed due to circumstances way beyond my control, and I instead found myself gainfully employed in the world of work.
I bring this up largely because I’ve done a bit of research into The Kindred, a 1987 Science Fiction and Horror release from Kindred Limited Partnership that’s celebrating its thirty-fifth anniversary on this day in filmdom. From what I’ve seen online, a handful of the pictures look familiar … but, for the life of me, I can’t seem to recollect if this is a flick I saw at the time or have stumbled across in my research or have tidbits tucked away somewhere in my vast reserve of films I’ve yet to explore in greater depth on SciFiHistory.Net.
In any event, it looks as though The Kindred was first released exclusively in New York City on this day in 1987 (Source: IMDB.com). Neither IMDB.com nor Wikipedia.org cite any full U.S. theatrical release, but Box Office Mojo does show a combined U.S. and Canada gross just under $2.5 million. It appears that the film benefitted from a directing team of Stephen Carpenter and Jeffrey Obrow (who also scripted the feature with collaboration from John Penney). The film starred Rod Steiger, Amanda Pays, Kim Hunter, and David Allen Brooks in key roles. Lastly, it looks like there may have been multiple cuts – R-rated and the controversial ‘unrated’ – though I don’t see any indication that the film is currently available on DVD … a shame that’ll hopefully get corrected someday.
Here’s one of the plot summaries that’s listed for The Kindred on IMDB.com:
“Amanda’s deathbed request to her son, John, was for him to destroy all the lab notes etc. from her last experiment. She also blurts out he had a brother. At the funeral, John meets Melissa, who claims to be his mother’s biggest fan. Together with some of John’s friends, they go to Amanda’s house, but none are prepared for what they find there.”
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
-- EZ
- Published on
“To let understanding stop at what cannot be understood is a high attainment. Those who cannot do it will be destroyed on the lathe of heaven.” – Chuang Tzu
Science Fiction and Fantasy author Ursula K. Le Guin loved that translated quotation from Chinese philosopher Tzu so much that she pulled the name of her award-winning 1971 novel (Avon Books) – The Lathe Of Heaven – from it. Interestingly enough, history would show that it was – ahem – improperly translated as Wikipedia.org notes that there were no lathes in China at the time of Tzu’s writing. That idiosyncrasy aside, Le Guin’s novel would create a sensation and went on to receive nominations for the 1971 Nebula Award, the 1972 Hugo Award, and the 1972 Locus Award For Best Novel. (It lost the first two but did take home the Locus.)
You know what I always say: “All good books become movies …”
Though I’ve been unable to locate exactly who purchased the rights originally to transport Le Guin’s visionary tale from the page to the screen, IMDB.com reports that the film was produced through a grant with the Public Broadcasting Service (PBS) along with participation from Taurus Film and Thirteen / WNET. I suspect that it may’ve been PBS directly who secured the rights because IMDB.com’s Trivia Page indicates that this adaptation was the very first ‘made-for-TV’ feature ever shown on the national network.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here’s the plot summary:
“In a highly controlled and overpopulated society, a man who has terrifying dreams that affect reality is assigned a psychiatrist who takes advantage of the situation.”
Video pioneers Fred Barzyk and David R. Loxton were hired to direct a screenplay adapted by Roger Swaybill and Diane English. (Swaybill’s credentials are a bit curious – especially as a choice for such a heady Science Fiction drama – but English is renowned for creating the Murphy Brown television sitcom.) Bruce Davison was cast to bring to life the central character of George Orr, and Kevin Conway was tapped as his somewhat adversary Dr. William Haber. The completed film was first aired on January 9, 1980, and it went on to be nominated for the 1981 Hugo Award in the category of ‘Best Dramatic Presentation.’ Up against such competition as Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back and the TV miniseries adaptation of Ray Bradbury’s The Martian Chronicles, Lathe had to settle for the honor of a nomination alone. (The Empire Strikes Back took home the trophy.)
As best as I’ve been able to locate, Lathe has only enjoyed a single home video release (in the U.S.) – a 1980 issue under the New Video Group label – something I find a bit curious given both the novel and the telefilm’s solid reputation. Perhaps in the years ahead, some enterprising group will secure the opportunity to remaster the property and give it life again for a whole new generation of viewers. I suspect even the Le Guin estate would be thrilled to see the work endure.
Science Fiction and Fantasy author Ursula K. Le Guin loved that translated quotation from Chinese philosopher Tzu so much that she pulled the name of her award-winning 1971 novel (Avon Books) – The Lathe Of Heaven – from it. Interestingly enough, history would show that it was – ahem – improperly translated as Wikipedia.org notes that there were no lathes in China at the time of Tzu’s writing. That idiosyncrasy aside, Le Guin’s novel would create a sensation and went on to receive nominations for the 1971 Nebula Award, the 1972 Hugo Award, and the 1972 Locus Award For Best Novel. (It lost the first two but did take home the Locus.)
You know what I always say: “All good books become movies …”
Though I’ve been unable to locate exactly who purchased the rights originally to transport Le Guin’s visionary tale from the page to the screen, IMDB.com reports that the film was produced through a grant with the Public Broadcasting Service (PBS) along with participation from Taurus Film and Thirteen / WNET. I suspect that it may’ve been PBS directly who secured the rights because IMDB.com’s Trivia Page indicates that this adaptation was the very first ‘made-for-TV’ feature ever shown on the national network.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here’s the plot summary:
“In a highly controlled and overpopulated society, a man who has terrifying dreams that affect reality is assigned a psychiatrist who takes advantage of the situation.”
Video pioneers Fred Barzyk and David R. Loxton were hired to direct a screenplay adapted by Roger Swaybill and Diane English. (Swaybill’s credentials are a bit curious – especially as a choice for such a heady Science Fiction drama – but English is renowned for creating the Murphy Brown television sitcom.) Bruce Davison was cast to bring to life the central character of George Orr, and Kevin Conway was tapped as his somewhat adversary Dr. William Haber. The completed film was first aired on January 9, 1980, and it went on to be nominated for the 1981 Hugo Award in the category of ‘Best Dramatic Presentation.’ Up against such competition as Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back and the TV miniseries adaptation of Ray Bradbury’s The Martian Chronicles, Lathe had to settle for the honor of a nomination alone. (The Empire Strikes Back took home the trophy.)
As best as I’ve been able to locate, Lathe has only enjoyed a single home video release (in the U.S.) – a 1980 issue under the New Video Group label – something I find a bit curious given both the novel and the telefilm’s solid reputation. Perhaps in the years ahead, some enterprising group will secure the opportunity to remaster the property and give it life again for a whole new generation of viewers. I suspect even the Le Guin estate would be thrilled to see the work endure.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
-- EZ