- Published on
There was a time when I penned reviews almost exclusively for foreign releases.
Some of this was owed to the fact that – at that time – I had very good relationships with a solid handful of film distributors here within the United States, and these companies were actively pushing foreign releases almost as strongly as they were domestic ones. Over time, some of these businesses went under, a few were acquired, and even a few more changed their policies, which eliminated me and my outlet from contention of receiving complimentary copies. Regardless of that reality, I realized that I had grown to enjoy these non-U.S. flicks far more than things I’d venture to the nearest cineplex to see. In fact, I often argued that the benefit of a non-studio environment helped these pictures to feel more authentic – sometimes more relatable – meaning that a great time could be had by folks who discovered them, and I was thrilled to be a member of that small contingent.
About the time that many of these relationships were going away, I had noticed that countries like Japan, South Korea, and China had begun dramatically incorporating vastly greater special effects into their projects. I’ve long cautioned that the increase of heavier post-production requirements requires (obviously) more capital, more capital requires more investors, and – ahem – more investors almost inevitably requires – you guessed it – a motion picture studio. This meant that the charm of these foreign films had a shelf life … and – just like that – some of the bigger and bolder yarns began looking like your typical 20th Century Fox attempt at Marvel Entertainment packaging.
Essentially, that’s what you get with Alienoid (2022). It’s a good idea with maybe forty minutes of legitimate storytelling expanded to a bloated two-and-one-half hours … and it’s still incomplete!
Egads!
(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 product packaging:
“Alienoid – directed by Choi Dong-hoon and starring Ryu Jun-Yeol, Kim Woo-bin, and Kim Tae-ri – is the first in a planned serires of two epic sci-fi action time-warpers. A tale of two eras, Alienoid follows two Goryeo Dynasty (918-1392) shamans seeking a legendary, time-bending blade as they unexpectedly cross paths with modern-era people hunting down a dangerous alien concealed inside a human’s body.”
Just to avoid any confusion right up front, let me clarify all my remarks with this: I liked the premise behind Alienoid.
See, despite its weaknesses (and there are many), the whole project begins with this nifty little idea: let’s take time travel beyond what has conventionally been explored on television and film, combine it with a bit of alien skullduggery, blend it a healthy sampling of Chinese mysticism and classic martial arts, and we’ll have something totally different, totally original, and – ahem – totally entertaining for all ages!
Well …
Some of this was owed to the fact that – at that time – I had very good relationships with a solid handful of film distributors here within the United States, and these companies were actively pushing foreign releases almost as strongly as they were domestic ones. Over time, some of these businesses went under, a few were acquired, and even a few more changed their policies, which eliminated me and my outlet from contention of receiving complimentary copies. Regardless of that reality, I realized that I had grown to enjoy these non-U.S. flicks far more than things I’d venture to the nearest cineplex to see. In fact, I often argued that the benefit of a non-studio environment helped these pictures to feel more authentic – sometimes more relatable – meaning that a great time could be had by folks who discovered them, and I was thrilled to be a member of that small contingent.
About the time that many of these relationships were going away, I had noticed that countries like Japan, South Korea, and China had begun dramatically incorporating vastly greater special effects into their projects. I’ve long cautioned that the increase of heavier post-production requirements requires (obviously) more capital, more capital requires more investors, and – ahem – more investors almost inevitably requires – you guessed it – a motion picture studio. This meant that the charm of these foreign films had a shelf life … and – just like that – some of the bigger and bolder yarns began looking like your typical 20th Century Fox attempt at Marvel Entertainment packaging.
Essentially, that’s what you get with Alienoid (2022). It’s a good idea with maybe forty minutes of legitimate storytelling expanded to a bloated two-and-one-half hours … and it’s still incomplete!
Egads!
(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 product packaging:
“Alienoid – directed by Choi Dong-hoon and starring Ryu Jun-Yeol, Kim Woo-bin, and Kim Tae-ri – is the first in a planned serires of two epic sci-fi action time-warpers. A tale of two eras, Alienoid follows two Goryeo Dynasty (918-1392) shamans seeking a legendary, time-bending blade as they unexpectedly cross paths with modern-era people hunting down a dangerous alien concealed inside a human’s body.”
Just to avoid any confusion right up front, let me clarify all my remarks with this: I liked the premise behind Alienoid.
See, despite its weaknesses (and there are many), the whole project begins with this nifty little idea: let’s take time travel beyond what has conventionally been explored on television and film, combine it with a bit of alien skullduggery, blend it a healthy sampling of Chinese mysticism and classic martial arts, and we’ll have something totally different, totally original, and – ahem – totally entertaining for all ages!
Well …
Therein lies one of the property’s bigger challenges: folks drawn in to features of martial arts – from my experience – aren’t all that interested in other genres, nor do they follow them with the same level of devotion. They’re showing up for Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and not some effects-laden Power Rangers knock-off with a greater SciFi twist; so I’m not entirely convinced this combo platter was meant to go down easily. As a consequence, I can’t help but wonder how successful the film may’ve been in its native China, much less how jumbled all of it might feel to the rest of the world and parts unknown.
Though others might take issue with my ‘Power Rangers’ attribution, I do want to be perfectly clear on this point, as well: these effects – especially the heavily-loaded CGI sequences – really aren’t that much better than what studios near and far have delivered in franchises like the Rangers or anything reasonably similar. The BBC’s long-running Doctor Who even in its last few seasons (on the Modern Era) have also expanded the canvas so far as heavy use of computer graphics, so dishing out a theatrical release with some undercooked imagery (so far as this viewer is concerned) does not bode well. Yes, they’re good – I’m not discounting their effectiveness – but when home audiences can see better on HBO and Netflix without having to venture to the theaters, we’re risky failure right out of the gate.
Setting aside the technical merits (or lack thereof), Alienoid is still fairly heavy with characters, some of which serve little more than comic relief. Writer/director Choi truly mashes an awful lot of content into this 143-minute running time, and not all of it flows smoothly. It’s one thing to herk and jerk an audience across various time periods, but doing so while continuing to both define and re-define your characters (I won’t spoil it, but identities and secret identities figure significantly into the plot) puts a terrific weight on the shoulders of the viewers … and I suspect some might have trouble keeping up with even a few benign developments.
That said, will folks return for a sequel?
Well, stranger things has happened, and Alienoid isn’t all bad. In many ways, it feels more like a property that could’ve worked with greater efficiency as a streaming series, one that could both give depth and add greater context to its cast and circumstances. If this one runs 2.5 hours and a planned sequel does minimally the same, then why not retool it all, add in some flavor, and make a go of it that way? I realize that may not be what’s intended, but I think a ten-hour series could’ve worked more strongly at conveying the breadth of this world while giving time to its involved plot.
As is? I found it a challenge to stay focused.
Alienoid (2022) was produced by Caper Film. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good folks at Well Go USA Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? Well, while I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights and sounds were pretty good, though I will admit to some disappointment with several CGI sequences. They’re good, but I’ve seen better. As for the special features? There’s a brief making-of and some character bits, but it’s pretty slim pickings.
Mildly Recommended.
Alienoid is more than a bit long … and the sad thing is that it feels too long. Pacing could’ve been improved, but the film also relies on multiple time periods, a bigger-than-usual cast, and an involved plot that might be too much for a single outing. (FYI: this is only part one to a two-part story, and it’s hard to figure out what could possibly be ‘yet to come’ in this saga.) The mixing of genres does create some interesting moments, and this is a case wherein you may just have to see this one to know whether or not it’s your particular cup of tea.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Well Go USA Entertainment provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Alienoid (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
Though others might take issue with my ‘Power Rangers’ attribution, I do want to be perfectly clear on this point, as well: these effects – especially the heavily-loaded CGI sequences – really aren’t that much better than what studios near and far have delivered in franchises like the Rangers or anything reasonably similar. The BBC’s long-running Doctor Who even in its last few seasons (on the Modern Era) have also expanded the canvas so far as heavy use of computer graphics, so dishing out a theatrical release with some undercooked imagery (so far as this viewer is concerned) does not bode well. Yes, they’re good – I’m not discounting their effectiveness – but when home audiences can see better on HBO and Netflix without having to venture to the theaters, we’re risky failure right out of the gate.
Setting aside the technical merits (or lack thereof), Alienoid is still fairly heavy with characters, some of which serve little more than comic relief. Writer/director Choi truly mashes an awful lot of content into this 143-minute running time, and not all of it flows smoothly. It’s one thing to herk and jerk an audience across various time periods, but doing so while continuing to both define and re-define your characters (I won’t spoil it, but identities and secret identities figure significantly into the plot) puts a terrific weight on the shoulders of the viewers … and I suspect some might have trouble keeping up with even a few benign developments.
That said, will folks return for a sequel?
Well, stranger things has happened, and Alienoid isn’t all bad. In many ways, it feels more like a property that could’ve worked with greater efficiency as a streaming series, one that could both give depth and add greater context to its cast and circumstances. If this one runs 2.5 hours and a planned sequel does minimally the same, then why not retool it all, add in some flavor, and make a go of it that way? I realize that may not be what’s intended, but I think a ten-hour series could’ve worked more strongly at conveying the breadth of this world while giving time to its involved plot.
As is? I found it a challenge to stay focused.
Alienoid (2022) was produced by Caper Film. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good folks at Well Go USA Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? Well, while I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights and sounds were pretty good, though I will admit to some disappointment with several CGI sequences. They’re good, but I’ve seen better. As for the special features? There’s a brief making-of and some character bits, but it’s pretty slim pickings.
Mildly Recommended.
Alienoid is more than a bit long … and the sad thing is that it feels too long. Pacing could’ve been improved, but the film also relies on multiple time periods, a bigger-than-usual cast, and an involved plot that might be too much for a single outing. (FYI: this is only part one to a two-part story, and it’s hard to figure out what could possibly be ‘yet to come’ in this saga.) The mixing of genres does create some interesting moments, and this is a case wherein you may just have to see this one to know whether or not it’s your particular cup of tea.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Well Go USA Entertainment provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Alienoid (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
- Published on
From time to time, I’ve found that – as a writer on the subject of film – it helps to refresh one’s perspective by dabbling in motion pictures outside of the usual; and for this reason I’ll occasionally take in a great movie classic – often from the genre of film noir – to mull over. In order to keep it somewhat aligned with what I do here on SciFiHistory.Net, I’ll craft reviews under the heading of ‘Monsters Of A Sort’ and have a bit of fun with them. Honestly, there are so very many good releases from the past, and I do like shining a bit of light on them whenever the spirit moves me.
Today, I’ve had the good fortune to watch a little something something titled A Woman’s Vengeance (1948).
IMDB.com indicates this one was directed by Zeltan Korda, a talent with a tie to genre properties in that he’s often cited as the ‘uncredited’ director of 1940’s The Thief Of Baghdad as well as the credited director of 1942’s The Jungle Book. (FYI: he also directed Humphrey Bogart in 1943’s Sahara, one of my personal favorite World War II flicks, but that’s a whole other issue.) Interestingly enough, Vengeance has another fascinating tie-in with Science Fiction in that its screenwriter is none other than Aldous Huxley, the genius behind the novel Brave New World originally published in 1932 and eventually adapted on film.
But who are its players, you ask?
The bulk of the action takes place between philandering Henry Maurier (played by Charles Boyer) and Janet Spence (Jessica Tandy), a family friend who has spent years pining for Henry’s carnal affections but has been ignored. But when the elder gentleman instead takes the hand of the very young Doris Mead (Ann Blyth), the lady Spence decides her secret attempt to garner the man’s attention can instead be used to spell his private doom. But with all of this intrigue, who would’ve expected the private workings of Dr. James Libbard (Cedric Hardwicke) might steal the show?
Why, it’s enough to keep one up at night!
(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 cheating husband is charged in the poisoning death of his invalid wife, in spite of other women and suicide also being suspected.”
Described as a classic film-noir, I didn’t think that the plot of A Woman’s Vengeance would have the feature truly standing side-by-side with other significant entries of that genre, and I stand by that. Stronger stories of this type tend to involve action and (especially) danger a bit broader in scope than what Huxley’s script squeezes into its 96 minutes, and I wonder if viewers drawn to the picture with such expectations might even turn away at the film’s midpoint. In fact, there’s really no intensity to the flick at all until the second half, at which point Maurier’s bad habits catch up with him in the worst way imaginable. Charged with a murder he insists he never committed (we’re not quite sure yet, though the suspect list is considerably slim), there’s finally some greater linkage to noir beyond the obvious stylings.
Today, I’ve had the good fortune to watch a little something something titled A Woman’s Vengeance (1948).
IMDB.com indicates this one was directed by Zeltan Korda, a talent with a tie to genre properties in that he’s often cited as the ‘uncredited’ director of 1940’s The Thief Of Baghdad as well as the credited director of 1942’s The Jungle Book. (FYI: he also directed Humphrey Bogart in 1943’s Sahara, one of my personal favorite World War II flicks, but that’s a whole other issue.) Interestingly enough, Vengeance has another fascinating tie-in with Science Fiction in that its screenwriter is none other than Aldous Huxley, the genius behind the novel Brave New World originally published in 1932 and eventually adapted on film.
But who are its players, you ask?
The bulk of the action takes place between philandering Henry Maurier (played by Charles Boyer) and Janet Spence (Jessica Tandy), a family friend who has spent years pining for Henry’s carnal affections but has been ignored. But when the elder gentleman instead takes the hand of the very young Doris Mead (Ann Blyth), the lady Spence decides her secret attempt to garner the man’s attention can instead be used to spell his private doom. But with all of this intrigue, who would’ve expected the private workings of Dr. James Libbard (Cedric Hardwicke) might steal the show?
Why, it’s enough to keep one up at night!
(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 cheating husband is charged in the poisoning death of his invalid wife, in spite of other women and suicide also being suspected.”
Described as a classic film-noir, I didn’t think that the plot of A Woman’s Vengeance would have the feature truly standing side-by-side with other significant entries of that genre, and I stand by that. Stronger stories of this type tend to involve action and (especially) danger a bit broader in scope than what Huxley’s script squeezes into its 96 minutes, and I wonder if viewers drawn to the picture with such expectations might even turn away at the film’s midpoint. In fact, there’s really no intensity to the flick at all until the second half, at which point Maurier’s bad habits catch up with him in the worst way imaginable. Charged with a murder he insists he never committed (we’re not quite sure yet, though the suspect list is considerably slim), there’s finally some greater linkage to noir beyond the obvious stylings.
But the first half does boast some great acting by both Boyer and Tandy. In fact, there’s an incredible vivid scene involving a dark room and an unfurling thunderstorm that is the kind of thing that makes film the form of art many of us love. It isn’t particular big – nor is it all that lavish – and yet it’s the kind of sequence that perfectly illustrates the storm raging just out of reach of these two central individuals. This kind of stuff elevates a yarn because it gives it visual subtext, and I hope director Korda with his crew of craftsmen (and craftswomen) were pleased with the end result.
The greatest drawback to the narrative as presented is that – in all honesty – there really isn’t all that much mystery here. As I said, the suspect list is very small, and the tale unfolds in a way that points rather heavily in a single direction. (No, no, no: I always try to avoid spoiling the big details, even though this one is well beyond spoiler rules.) Those watching closely will undoubtedly have a solid theory regarding precisely ‘whodunnit,’ though I’ll admit the script gave the culprit a bit of wiggle room up until a point wherein there was a well-timed confession. At that point, why go on?
Well, that’s because Sir Cedric Hardwicke damn near steals the entire picture in the finale. As the town doctor, he’s a kindly gentleman who both has and keeps his suspicious to himself, but he isn’t above pointing you and me – the audience – in the right direction with that knowing glance. Motivating by his professional oath to ‘first do no wrong,’ Dr. Libbard bends the rule just enough to finally get to the heart of the matter. Though today’s science would probably not allow such a confession to hold up in a court of law, it works rather brilliantly on film, making the closing exchange a high point to the whole sordid affair.
A Woman’s Vengeance (1948) was produced by Universal International Pictures (UI). DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good folks at Kino Lorber. (For clarity’s sake, this was part of their Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema XI Collection, in case you’re looking to pick up a copy.) As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the sights and sounds to this 4K digitally restored version (from the 35mm Nitrate Original Negative) were very, very good: there are some very good sequences photographed in heavy darkness that stand out incredibly well in here. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, there’s an audio commentary from film scholar Jason A. Ney and the original theatrical trailer to enjoy.
Highly Recommended.
Oh my gosh, I do so very much prefer watching older films, and A Woman’s Vengeance – a flick I’d honestly heard very little about – was a delight. Aldous Huxley’s script (thankfully!) wasn’t heavy on melodrama – as even noirs of this era can be – and there was a good balance between conventional mystery and traditional suspense that made this one work very well. Still, I would’ve approved a bit more screen time somehow given to the sleuthing physician who truly cracks this case when others should’ve, but that’s small potatoes with a flick that embraced the unconventional at a time when Hollywood was producing a catalogue of fairly predictable fare.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of A Woman’s Vengeance (as part of their Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema XI Collection) 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
The greatest drawback to the narrative as presented is that – in all honesty – there really isn’t all that much mystery here. As I said, the suspect list is very small, and the tale unfolds in a way that points rather heavily in a single direction. (No, no, no: I always try to avoid spoiling the big details, even though this one is well beyond spoiler rules.) Those watching closely will undoubtedly have a solid theory regarding precisely ‘whodunnit,’ though I’ll admit the script gave the culprit a bit of wiggle room up until a point wherein there was a well-timed confession. At that point, why go on?
Well, that’s because Sir Cedric Hardwicke damn near steals the entire picture in the finale. As the town doctor, he’s a kindly gentleman who both has and keeps his suspicious to himself, but he isn’t above pointing you and me – the audience – in the right direction with that knowing glance. Motivating by his professional oath to ‘first do no wrong,’ Dr. Libbard bends the rule just enough to finally get to the heart of the matter. Though today’s science would probably not allow such a confession to hold up in a court of law, it works rather brilliantly on film, making the closing exchange a high point to the whole sordid affair.
A Woman’s Vengeance (1948) was produced by Universal International Pictures (UI). DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good folks at Kino Lorber. (For clarity’s sake, this was part of their Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema XI Collection, in case you’re looking to pick up a copy.) As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the sights and sounds to this 4K digitally restored version (from the 35mm Nitrate Original Negative) were very, very good: there are some very good sequences photographed in heavy darkness that stand out incredibly well in here. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, there’s an audio commentary from film scholar Jason A. Ney and the original theatrical trailer to enjoy.
Highly Recommended.
Oh my gosh, I do so very much prefer watching older films, and A Woman’s Vengeance – a flick I’d honestly heard very little about – was a delight. Aldous Huxley’s script (thankfully!) wasn’t heavy on melodrama – as even noirs of this era can be – and there was a good balance between conventional mystery and traditional suspense that made this one work very well. Still, I would’ve approved a bit more screen time somehow given to the sleuthing physician who truly cracks this case when others should’ve, but that’s small potatoes with a flick that embraced the unconventional at a time when Hollywood was producing a catalogue of fairly predictable fare.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of A Woman’s Vengeance (as part of their Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema XI Collection) 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
What with the silly season unfolding right before us, I thought I'd take the time to alert SciFiHistory.Net's readers to an incredible product that you just might wanna pick up for that special someone in your life.
In case you missed it, TV's A Discovery Of Witches recently concluded its three-season run on television (on both sides of the pond, as it were), and an absolutely fabulous-looking trilogy collection hit shelves this past November. (I know it's still out there even today as I've seen it in stores myself just this past weekend while doing some shopping.) I caught a few episodes of its first season when it aired originally, but then -- for whatever reason -- I tuned it out, mostly as it genuinely felt a bit more 'soap opera' in Fantasy than I usually go in for. But in 2021, the good folks at Acorn Media Group provided me with a complimentary DVD set of the show's second season (review available here), so I gave it a watch to see where it had evolved. The overall feel of the program hadn't changed all that much -- it still had the soapy elements -- but there was a greater discussion of magic -- as well as a meatier look at the various creatures (witches, demons, etc.) ... so I was glad to have given it a fresh glance.
Now, I have the opportunity to digest the sum total of its magical goodness as I have laid my hands on A Discovery Of Witches: The Complete Trilogy. Rest assured that I'll happily be spending some time with this over the next few days, taking in a solid look at its third (and final) season just to see where this miraculous journey arrives in its big finish. As I do, I'll definitely be putting up some individual episode reviews, so keep your eyes fixed on the MainPage.
But because this is such a bit of cool packaging, I wanted to share some snaps with readers. It's honestly one of the best-looking collections I've had the good fortune to consider -- with charater pictures and the like. I'm guessing that fans of this TV incarnation of the popular book series might wanna pick this up, especially if they're completists.
And with packaging that looks this good? Who could blame you?
In case you missed it, TV's A Discovery Of Witches recently concluded its three-season run on television (on both sides of the pond, as it were), and an absolutely fabulous-looking trilogy collection hit shelves this past November. (I know it's still out there even today as I've seen it in stores myself just this past weekend while doing some shopping.) I caught a few episodes of its first season when it aired originally, but then -- for whatever reason -- I tuned it out, mostly as it genuinely felt a bit more 'soap opera' in Fantasy than I usually go in for. But in 2021, the good folks at Acorn Media Group provided me with a complimentary DVD set of the show's second season (review available here), so I gave it a watch to see where it had evolved. The overall feel of the program hadn't changed all that much -- it still had the soapy elements -- but there was a greater discussion of magic -- as well as a meatier look at the various creatures (witches, demons, etc.) ... so I was glad to have given it a fresh glance.
Now, I have the opportunity to digest the sum total of its magical goodness as I have laid my hands on A Discovery Of Witches: The Complete Trilogy. Rest assured that I'll happily be spending some time with this over the next few days, taking in a solid look at its third (and final) season just to see where this miraculous journey arrives in its big finish. As I do, I'll definitely be putting up some individual episode reviews, so keep your eyes fixed on the MainPage.
But because this is such a bit of cool packaging, I wanted to share some snaps with readers. It's honestly one of the best-looking collections I've had the good fortune to consider -- with charater pictures and the like. I'm guessing that fans of this TV incarnation of the popular book series might wanna pick this up, especially if they're completists.
And with packaging that looks this good? Who could blame you?
Bonus Features on the DVD and Blu-ray include:
● About the Characters
● Mythology, TV Magic, The Story of The Discovery of Witches
● Can Love Survive
● Creating Elizabethan London
● Story So Far
● Blood Rage
● Set Tour
● Creating the Worlds
● About the Characters
● Mythology, TV Magic, The Story of The Discovery of Witches
● Can Love Survive
● Creating Elizabethan London
● Story So Far
● Blood Rage
● Set Tour
● Creating the Worlds
Again: if you're interested in episodes reviews -- especially for the third season -- those will be following shortly. I'm excited to get back into this world ... but I'll work hard to avoid spoiling you from how it all winds down!
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Think what you may, but I do try very hard to steer clear of some of fandom's more controversial subjects.
Like any adult -- or person with a brain -- I do have opinions on issues; and when the spirit moves me in such a way that I believe I can articule them for an audience I will write about them. For example, I fairly recently sounded off about how I believe Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) has a reputation I don't quite support; others find the flick akin to the word of God whereas I think it all boils down to a visual-fueled drug trip delivering audiences nowhere of interest ... or, at least, nowhere that we can agree on the value of the destination. For clarity's sake: no, I have no problem with the film having that reputation. My point is that I think it's just an intellectual exercise -- not a film -- and I leave it at that.
But I will say that -- in the history of the entire Star Trek franchise -- I do believe Paramount Pictures made one of its biggest mistakes ever by allowing actress Kirstie Alley to slip away from the film series.
Yes, I'm very much aware that -- depending upon which version of "truth" you accept -- this may very well have been owed to her own decision at the time ... but I still see it as a mistake.
Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan (1982) truly reinvigorated the property on the silver screen. Its popularity with critics, fans, and regular folks -- those who never considered themselves ardent fans of the Gene Roddenberry original -- swung open the doors and brought bigger and bigger audiences the summer of its release. The Nicholas Meyer-directed feature had what studio chiefs call 'legs,' meaning that it played to solid business for an extended period of time; and -- even today -- the motion picture is revered as not only one of Trek's best entries but arguably even all of Science Fiction and Fantasy. That's a helluva endorsement.
I've often argued that one of the flick's best additions was expanding the core cast with a new face, and Kirstie Alley's 'Saavik' was perfectly cast and perfectly performed. As the newest officer in the ongoing Starfleet saga, newcomers had someone up there in the shadows and lights that -- like them -- were seeing things from their perspective. Alley was the perfect hook -- a beautiful face that, like Helen of Troy, could've launched a thousand ships -- and she could very well have helped in Trek's transition from the small screen to the big one had the actress been kept aboard.
Alas, it wasn't meant to be.
In any event, word reached the Information Superhighway that Ms. Alley only very recently learned of a cancer diagnosis and succumbed to her illness. No matter the woman's politics -- and no matter what idiots online would have you believe -- we've lost a truly gifted performer. Our world is a better place for her having been in it. Certainly, the entertainment industry owes her a nod for her incredible work, and she leaves behind a legacy that deserves perhaps even more acclaim that it's ever received.
Thoughts and prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Kirstie Alley ... a true original.
May she rest in peace.
-- EZ
Like any adult -- or person with a brain -- I do have opinions on issues; and when the spirit moves me in such a way that I believe I can articule them for an audience I will write about them. For example, I fairly recently sounded off about how I believe Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) has a reputation I don't quite support; others find the flick akin to the word of God whereas I think it all boils down to a visual-fueled drug trip delivering audiences nowhere of interest ... or, at least, nowhere that we can agree on the value of the destination. For clarity's sake: no, I have no problem with the film having that reputation. My point is that I think it's just an intellectual exercise -- not a film -- and I leave it at that.
But I will say that -- in the history of the entire Star Trek franchise -- I do believe Paramount Pictures made one of its biggest mistakes ever by allowing actress Kirstie Alley to slip away from the film series.
Yes, I'm very much aware that -- depending upon which version of "truth" you accept -- this may very well have been owed to her own decision at the time ... but I still see it as a mistake.
Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan (1982) truly reinvigorated the property on the silver screen. Its popularity with critics, fans, and regular folks -- those who never considered themselves ardent fans of the Gene Roddenberry original -- swung open the doors and brought bigger and bigger audiences the summer of its release. The Nicholas Meyer-directed feature had what studio chiefs call 'legs,' meaning that it played to solid business for an extended period of time; and -- even today -- the motion picture is revered as not only one of Trek's best entries but arguably even all of Science Fiction and Fantasy. That's a helluva endorsement.
I've often argued that one of the flick's best additions was expanding the core cast with a new face, and Kirstie Alley's 'Saavik' was perfectly cast and perfectly performed. As the newest officer in the ongoing Starfleet saga, newcomers had someone up there in the shadows and lights that -- like them -- were seeing things from their perspective. Alley was the perfect hook -- a beautiful face that, like Helen of Troy, could've launched a thousand ships -- and she could very well have helped in Trek's transition from the small screen to the big one had the actress been kept aboard.
Alas, it wasn't meant to be.
In any event, word reached the Information Superhighway that Ms. Alley only very recently learned of a cancer diagnosis and succumbed to her illness. No matter the woman's politics -- and no matter what idiots online would have you believe -- we've lost a truly gifted performer. Our world is a better place for her having been in it. Certainly, the entertainment industry owes her a nod for her incredible work, and she leaves behind a legacy that deserves perhaps even more acclaim that it's ever received.
Thoughts and prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Kirstie Alley ... a true original.
May she rest in peace.
-- EZ
- Published on
As I've often pointed out, one of the greatest honors of remaining 'on the edge' of breaking news is that I'm kept reasonably well informed of some of the past features in the realm of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror getting prepped for all-new releases. This doesn't mean that I'll always be screening them for the purposes of reviews; while that's genuinely a 50/50 proposition, I do manage to get to a fair number of them, posting notices and the like on the MainPage for readers to enjoy.
That's why I'm pleased to announce that the folks at Kino Lorber are prepping 1984's Ghost Warrior for release. According to their publicity information that I'm looking at this morning, it looks like this title will street on January 17, 2023. Interested folks might wanna head on over to Amazon.com or even the Kino Lorber website to put in an advance order if you're so inclined.
Honestly, it's a title I don't believe I've ever seen (the memories are a bit murky on this one), but I know that I've come across it several times in research I've done for the site. IMDB.com reports that this one was directed by J. Larry Carroll (Beauty And The Beast, Thundercats, and Stargate) from a script by Tim Curnen (1982's Forbidden World). It stars Hiroshi Fujioka (of Kamen Rider fame), John Calvin (TV's Alien Nation, Critters 3), and Janet Julian (Battlestar Galactica, Knight Rider).
As per my usual policy, I'll be copying and pasting the publicity materials below.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
That's why I'm pleased to announce that the folks at Kino Lorber are prepping 1984's Ghost Warrior for release. According to their publicity information that I'm looking at this morning, it looks like this title will street on January 17, 2023. Interested folks might wanna head on over to Amazon.com or even the Kino Lorber website to put in an advance order if you're so inclined.
Honestly, it's a title I don't believe I've ever seen (the memories are a bit murky on this one), but I know that I've come across it several times in research I've done for the site. IMDB.com reports that this one was directed by J. Larry Carroll (Beauty And The Beast, Thundercats, and Stargate) from a script by Tim Curnen (1982's Forbidden World). It stars Hiroshi Fujioka (of Kamen Rider fame), John Calvin (TV's Alien Nation, Critters 3), and Janet Julian (Battlestar Galactica, Knight Rider).
As per my usual policy, I'll be copying and pasting the publicity materials below.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
Ghost Warrior
(1985, 81m)
Blu-ray
Prebook Date: 12/20/2022
Street Date: 1/17/2023
(1985, 81m)
Blu-ray
Prebook Date: 12/20/2022
Street Date: 1/17/2023
Director: J. Larry Carroll
Cast: Hiroshi Fujioka, Janet Julian, John Calvin, Charles Lampkin, Bill Morey, Frank Schuller
In the time-warp tradition of Iceman comes Ghost Warrior, an inventive fantasy-adventure from cult-movie king Charles Band (Parasite). Suddenly awake after 400 years of frozen sleep, a valiant samurai warrior struggles to survive the harsh challenges of modern-day Los Angeles. This action-packed tale is the thrilling saga of Yoshi (Hiroshi Fujioka, High Seas Hijack, In the Line of Duty III), a master of Japan’s 16th-century fighting arts who is accidentally frozen in time and miraculously revived in the 1980s. On the run from the institute that ended his sleep of centuries, Yoshi must pit his ancient skills and power against the forces of a violent and confusing world. He has vanquished enemies from a distant time—but can he prevail on the streets of the future? Also known as Swordkill, Ghost Warrior co-stars the wonderful Janet Julian (King of New York).
Bonus Features:
DIE BY THE SWORD: NEW Interview with Special Makeup Effects Artist Robert Short
Audio Commentary by Action Film Historians Brandon Bentley and Mike Leeder
Theatrical Trailer
Optional English Subtitles
ABOUT KINO LORBER:
With a library of over 4,000 titles, Kino Lorber Inc. has been a leader in independent art house distribution for 35 years, releasing 30 films per year theatrically under its Kino Lorber, Kino Repertory and Alive Mind Cinema banners, garnering seven Academy Award® nominations in nine years. In addition, the company brings over 350 titles yearly to the home entertainment and educational markets through physical and digital media releases. With an expanding family of distributed labels, Kino Lorber handles releases in ancillary media for Zeitgeist Films, Milestone Films, Cohen Media Group, Greenwich Entertainment, Artsploitation, Palisades Tartan, Menemsha Films, Raro Video, and others, placing physical titles through all wholesale, retail, and direct-to-consumer channels, as well as direct digital distribution through over 40 OTT services including all major TVOD and SVOD platforms. In 2019, the company launched its new art house digital channel Kino Now which features over 1300 titles from the acclaimed Kino Lorber library. In response to the COVID-19 pandemic, the Kino Marquee initiative was launched pioneering "virtual cinema" releases of art house films with revenue shares that allow audiences to support almost 500 local independent theaters. Kino Lorber was honored with a Special Award from the New York Film Critics Circle for this effort. In 2021, the company launched Kino Cult, an AVOD channel specializing in new and rare, acclaimed genre films.
- Published on
In the words of a well-played Mel Brooks’ character: “It’s good to be the king.”
This is a phrase I jokingly use probably much more than I should, but I think I rely on it because it so perfectly exemplifies my mindset when it comes to moving ‘outside the box’ with some coverage choices I make for SciFiHistory.Net. Like anyone who writes, I occasionally like to sound off on something that may not be directly Science Fiction or Fantasy or Horror related – as when I do with noirish flicks from time-to-time – and why shouldn’t I use my very own little empire to do so? I have the space. I know how to use it. And it isn’t like I’m going to offend myself! So, yes, it’s good to be king!
That’s why I’m taking this opportunity today to write about 5-25-77.
In case you haven’t heard of the flick, 5-25-77 is the story of one young budding storyteller’s unusual connection back to George Lucas’s original Star Wars film. (Yes, yes, yes, I know it’s now called “Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope,” but it wasn’t back then, and that’s why I’m diverging.) Autobiographical in nature, it clearly is not SciFi or Fantasy, but because it ties in centrally with a pop culture phenomenon that began on that day back in 1977 and continues to this day, I figure it’s damn near close enough that fans of the franchise wouldn’t mind knowing my two cents on the picture.
(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 …)
This is a phrase I jokingly use probably much more than I should, but I think I rely on it because it so perfectly exemplifies my mindset when it comes to moving ‘outside the box’ with some coverage choices I make for SciFiHistory.Net. Like anyone who writes, I occasionally like to sound off on something that may not be directly Science Fiction or Fantasy or Horror related – as when I do with noirish flicks from time-to-time – and why shouldn’t I use my very own little empire to do so? I have the space. I know how to use it. And it isn’t like I’m going to offend myself! So, yes, it’s good to be king!
That’s why I’m taking this opportunity today to write about 5-25-77.
In case you haven’t heard of the flick, 5-25-77 is the story of one young budding storyteller’s unusual connection back to George Lucas’s original Star Wars film. (Yes, yes, yes, I know it’s now called “Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope,” but it wasn’t back then, and that’s why I’m diverging.) Autobiographical in nature, it clearly is not SciFi or Fantasy, but because it ties in centrally with a pop culture phenomenon that began on that day back in 1977 and continues to this day, I figure it’s damn near close enough that fans of the franchise wouldn’t mind knowing my two cents on the picture.
(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:
“Alienated film-maker hopeful Pat Johnson’s epic story of growing up in rural Illinois, falling in love and becoming the first fan of the movie that changed everything.”
While some may not feel it entirely germane to understand going into writer/director Patrick Read Johnson’s seminal 5-25-77 that this was a labor of love filmed over the course of a decade and one-half, I’d argue that I think it helps best position the importance of its subject matter to the storyteller. Like so many creatives of his era, Johnson was heavily influenced by the original Star Wars (1977), so much so that the man’s narrative autobiography ties directly back to those days of his youth. To give it the proper reverence, he’s fashioned this story to kinda/sorta parallel that trajectory – to explore how precisely his life changed leading up to his first viewing of the film and beyond – and it’s equally moving as it is insightful about the teenage experience … at least, that’s from the geek’s perspective … of which I consider myself, too.
John Francis Daley plays a pitch perfect young version of Johnson. It’s easy to see that the young man is interpreting the memories of the elder filmmaker, and their collaboration here in bringing these experiences to life is no doubt the flick’s greatest asset. Daley imbues the teenager with the kind of youthful exuberance many of us likely dealt with at that age; and he rather effortlessly communicates the naiveté that leads to so very many bad (or inferior) decisions made on this journey (like snubbing Steven Spielberg). Johnson clearly accomplished what he did with the Herculean enthusiasm known only to those who see the world as it is with the intent to change its shape, so it’s only perfectly natural for him to find himself in dire straits when nothing quite goes according to plan.
“Alienated film-maker hopeful Pat Johnson’s epic story of growing up in rural Illinois, falling in love and becoming the first fan of the movie that changed everything.”
While some may not feel it entirely germane to understand going into writer/director Patrick Read Johnson’s seminal 5-25-77 that this was a labor of love filmed over the course of a decade and one-half, I’d argue that I think it helps best position the importance of its subject matter to the storyteller. Like so many creatives of his era, Johnson was heavily influenced by the original Star Wars (1977), so much so that the man’s narrative autobiography ties directly back to those days of his youth. To give it the proper reverence, he’s fashioned this story to kinda/sorta parallel that trajectory – to explore how precisely his life changed leading up to his first viewing of the film and beyond – and it’s equally moving as it is insightful about the teenage experience … at least, that’s from the geek’s perspective … of which I consider myself, too.
John Francis Daley plays a pitch perfect young version of Johnson. It’s easy to see that the young man is interpreting the memories of the elder filmmaker, and their collaboration here in bringing these experiences to life is no doubt the flick’s greatest asset. Daley imbues the teenager with the kind of youthful exuberance many of us likely dealt with at that age; and he rather effortlessly communicates the naiveté that leads to so very many bad (or inferior) decisions made on this journey (like snubbing Steven Spielberg). Johnson clearly accomplished what he did with the Herculean enthusiasm known only to those who see the world as it is with the intent to change its shape, so it’s only perfectly natural for him to find himself in dire straits when nothing quite goes according to plan.
The great Austin Pendleton also turns in an incredible performance, even though his screen time is a bit limited here. In the guise of a Hollywood insider with a heart of gold still beating somewhere under that tarnished chest, his ‘Herb Lightman’ can’t help but give in to Janet Johnson (the great Colleen Camp) when she pleads with him over the phone to please help her son find an opportunity to land a job in Tinsel Town. Pendleton delivers lines both knowing and comic with a wry sensibility, always challenging the teenager to truly think about what it is he might be getting into; and – in no short fashion – Lightman becomes the ‘male role model’ the young storyteller has been missing from his life and perhaps never knew he needed. It could’ve all turned a bit mawkish in the hands of a lesser talent, but Pendleton showed up with his A-game, giving the tale the pulse it needed in the knick of time.
Still, as much as I could both enjoy 5-25-77 and relate to its sometimes-cautionary madness, I’d argue that this particular cut feels overly self-involved and simply too long.
There is a wealth of material that serves as a build-up to those elements most involved with Star Wars; and – as a consequence – it sometimes feels like there are two separate stories at work … and they don’t seamlessly combine. Some of the ‘coming of age’ stuff could’ve honestly been sacrificed (there are several subplots involving Johnson’s troop of friends, and not all of it was relevant in my estimation), allowing what remained of the material to flow together more easily. For example, there’s an ongoing comic bit involving our lead taking a hit to the stomach from the school jock, and it wears out its welcome probably after the first time it was tried. But perhaps Johnson’s closeness to his own life experience distracted him from the core plot … or maybe, like Star Wars, he was thinking of a trilogy?
Ouch.
The Force is strong with this one, true … but it could’ve been much, much stronger.
Still, as much as I could both enjoy 5-25-77 and relate to its sometimes-cautionary madness, I’d argue that this particular cut feels overly self-involved and simply too long.
There is a wealth of material that serves as a build-up to those elements most involved with Star Wars; and – as a consequence – it sometimes feels like there are two separate stories at work … and they don’t seamlessly combine. Some of the ‘coming of age’ stuff could’ve honestly been sacrificed (there are several subplots involving Johnson’s troop of friends, and not all of it was relevant in my estimation), allowing what remained of the material to flow together more easily. For example, there’s an ongoing comic bit involving our lead taking a hit to the stomach from the school jock, and it wears out its welcome probably after the first time it was tried. But perhaps Johnson’s closeness to his own life experience distracted him from the core plot … or maybe, like Star Wars, he was thinking of a trilogy?
Ouch.
The Force is strong with this one, true … but it could’ve been much, much stronger.
5-25-77 (2022) was produced by Filmio and Moonwatcher, Inc. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the folks at MVD Visual. As for the technical specifications? Well, most of the time, the sights and sounds are very, very good – exactly what you would expect in this kind of a feature. Occasionally – however – writer/director Johnson peppers the visual canvas with some odd film choices – usually it involves a grainy palette – and, if a few spots, I couldn’t say why. In fact, the shift in a few spots was extremely distracting … so make of it what you will. (But again – for the record – I’m no trained video expert.) Lastly, if you’re interested in special features, then you do have a few items to look forward to, including:
Recommended.
While I’ll admit to some disappointment with Johnson’s obvious desire to give damn near each and every element of his youthful existence a kind of Kubrickian significance, I still had a lot of fun with 5-25-77. Its characters are, perhaps, as accurate a depiction of Illinois teens and tweens I’ve seen – I’m from there – and they’re very close to those shown in the great John Hughes flicks (but with less comic energy). These are real ‘salt of the Earth’ kinda folks, and it shows, though with a bit of forced movie magic. If anything, I’d argue that there’s probably a near-genius cut of this material – something reasonably shorter than the kinda/sorta bloated 132 minutes – but this take is not it. Who knows? Perhaps Johnson – as the represented lead and the storyteller – needed another pair of eyes in the editing suite to tighten up the pace where this one just gets too … erm … spatial?
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 5-25-77 (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
- An audio commentary with Johnson;
- The Q&A from the 2013 Fantasia Film Festival, also with Johnson;
- A gallery of theatrical trailers; and
- Photo galleries.
Recommended.
While I’ll admit to some disappointment with Johnson’s obvious desire to give damn near each and every element of his youthful existence a kind of Kubrickian significance, I still had a lot of fun with 5-25-77. Its characters are, perhaps, as accurate a depiction of Illinois teens and tweens I’ve seen – I’m from there – and they’re very close to those shown in the great John Hughes flicks (but with less comic energy). These are real ‘salt of the Earth’ kinda folks, and it shows, though with a bit of forced movie magic. If anything, I’d argue that there’s probably a near-genius cut of this material – something reasonably shorter than the kinda/sorta bloated 132 minutes – but this take is not it. Who knows? Perhaps Johnson – as the represented lead and the storyteller – needed another pair of eyes in the editing suite to tighten up the pace where this one just gets too … erm … spatial?
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 5-25-77 (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
- Published on
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com citation:
“A scientist, working with genetics, creates a creature that is capable of transforming back and forth between a giant Death Head mother and a beautiful woman. The creature masquerades as his daughter when she is in human incarnation and feeds on the blood of her victims when she is in moth form.”
There’s an unevenness to Peter Bryan’s script for The Blood Beast Terror that could’ve been overcome perhaps with smarter direction from the late Vernon Sewell with some greater time and effort, but – alas – I’m thinking this one just wasn’t quite meant to be. Others might dismiss the construct as more charming than anything else, but – for me – when you introduce real science to any motion picture then it should be incumbent upon the storyteller to – first and foremost – continue to seek out real world plausibility for the events and circumstances as they unfold. Alas, Terror eventually goes more in the direction of pure cinematic Fantasy, and I think it’s a weaker picture because of those creative choices.
Yes, yes, yes: I hear you shouting from your devices. “But it’s a monster movie!” Of course, it is, and – on that front – I supposed it’s comparably as interesting as any other entry from the late 1960’s. My reservation, however, is that the film’s revered Dr. Mallinger (played by Robert Flemyng) spends a wealth of his scenes involved with the study of insects, giving the story a loose authenticity, which occasionally elevates the narrative beyond the typical flick. Had a bit more time, thought, and effort been exercised here, then Terror might’ve been a contender – one of those rare instances wherein the end product rises above the more casual attempts – and establishes its own relevance, defies the odds, and maybe even achieves cult status. But as is? There’s a whole lot of ‘meh’ in there, folks.
While I’ll agree that – for fans of a certain age – it’s always great to watch Peter Cushing do his thing (especially in Horror), his Inspector Quennell never quite evolves to the point wherein the character benefits from Cushing’s pedigree, and that also spoils the picture for me. Wanda Ventham – perhaps more famous these days for being the biological mother of Benedict Cumberbatch, if the Information Superhighway is any legitimate barometer of fame – has a few good moments, but not even her beauty can help the color-by-numbers production achieve any legitimate momentum. Dare I suggest that the film is even occasionally a bit of slog with sequences that last more than a few seconds after their usefulness? Why, it’s almost as if director Sewell and his cast of players set out with the intention of destroying any serviceable pace, and everyone behind the scenes was too frightened to yell ‘cut!’
From the film’s IMDB.com citation:
“A scientist, working with genetics, creates a creature that is capable of transforming back and forth between a giant Death Head mother and a beautiful woman. The creature masquerades as his daughter when she is in human incarnation and feeds on the blood of her victims when she is in moth form.”
There’s an unevenness to Peter Bryan’s script for The Blood Beast Terror that could’ve been overcome perhaps with smarter direction from the late Vernon Sewell with some greater time and effort, but – alas – I’m thinking this one just wasn’t quite meant to be. Others might dismiss the construct as more charming than anything else, but – for me – when you introduce real science to any motion picture then it should be incumbent upon the storyteller to – first and foremost – continue to seek out real world plausibility for the events and circumstances as they unfold. Alas, Terror eventually goes more in the direction of pure cinematic Fantasy, and I think it’s a weaker picture because of those creative choices.
Yes, yes, yes: I hear you shouting from your devices. “But it’s a monster movie!” Of course, it is, and – on that front – I supposed it’s comparably as interesting as any other entry from the late 1960’s. My reservation, however, is that the film’s revered Dr. Mallinger (played by Robert Flemyng) spends a wealth of his scenes involved with the study of insects, giving the story a loose authenticity, which occasionally elevates the narrative beyond the typical flick. Had a bit more time, thought, and effort been exercised here, then Terror might’ve been a contender – one of those rare instances wherein the end product rises above the more casual attempts – and establishes its own relevance, defies the odds, and maybe even achieves cult status. But as is? There’s a whole lot of ‘meh’ in there, folks.
While I’ll agree that – for fans of a certain age – it’s always great to watch Peter Cushing do his thing (especially in Horror), his Inspector Quennell never quite evolves to the point wherein the character benefits from Cushing’s pedigree, and that also spoils the picture for me. Wanda Ventham – perhaps more famous these days for being the biological mother of Benedict Cumberbatch, if the Information Superhighway is any legitimate barometer of fame – has a few good moments, but not even her beauty can help the color-by-numbers production achieve any legitimate momentum. Dare I suggest that the film is even occasionally a bit of slog with sequences that last more than a few seconds after their usefulness? Why, it’s almost as if director Sewell and his cast of players set out with the intention of destroying any serviceable pace, and everyone behind the scenes was too frightened to yell ‘cut!’
Naturally, what truly matters in a monster movie is the seminal monster. On that count, Blood Beast still underwhelms as the creature shows up sparingly in the first half – an obvious attempt to create tension rather than heighten it (since none truly exists, sadly). The second half does give the giant moth a bit more screen time, but at this point the story seems far more committed to a developing an unnecessary subplot involving the inspector’s teenage daughter Meg (Vanessa Howard) and her budding suitor (who just happens to be a butterfly expert, if you care to figure those odds) than it does exploring the standard monster procedural.
Sigh.
It’s a shame that even in a picture with its name in the title that a monster can’t even score quality screen time.
The Blood Beast Terror (1968) was produced by Tigon British Film Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? Well … though I’m no trained video expert, I had some quibbles with this 2012 2K restoration. While I found the picture to be quite good consistently, the soundtrack – especially sequences of dialogue throughout the middle – was a bit muddled in places. Others might not find it as distracting as I did (such is life), but I felt it was definitely worth mentioning. (Buyer beware.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, the disc boasts an all-new commentary track from critic Kim Newman and writer Stephen Jones. At best, it’s a ‘polite’ collection but nothing grand.
Mildly recommended. So far as this monster movie junkie is concerned, The Blood Beast Terror (1968) offers up only passable thrills and chills, and that’s mostly owed to Peter Bryan’s half-baked screenplay really only dabbling at establishing the scientific background for this particular filmed universe. When elements are only half-explained, viewers are left with either filling the blanks on their own (never a good practice) or just ‘going with the flow’ (the more likely scenario), and the end result leaves me with more questions than I ever want to have in digesting a palatable 90 minutes. That and Vernon Sewell’s uninspired direction make this one, largely, forgettable.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Blood Beast Terror 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
Sigh.
It’s a shame that even in a picture with its name in the title that a monster can’t even score quality screen time.
The Blood Beast Terror (1968) was produced by Tigon British Film Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? Well … though I’m no trained video expert, I had some quibbles with this 2012 2K restoration. While I found the picture to be quite good consistently, the soundtrack – especially sequences of dialogue throughout the middle – was a bit muddled in places. Others might not find it as distracting as I did (such is life), but I felt it was definitely worth mentioning. (Buyer beware.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, the disc boasts an all-new commentary track from critic Kim Newman and writer Stephen Jones. At best, it’s a ‘polite’ collection but nothing grand.
Mildly recommended. So far as this monster movie junkie is concerned, The Blood Beast Terror (1968) offers up only passable thrills and chills, and that’s mostly owed to Peter Bryan’s half-baked screenplay really only dabbling at establishing the scientific background for this particular filmed universe. When elements are only half-explained, viewers are left with either filling the blanks on their own (never a good practice) or just ‘going with the flow’ (the more likely scenario), and the end result leaves me with more questions than I ever want to have in digesting a palatable 90 minutes. That and Vernon Sewell’s uninspired direction make this one, largely, forgettable.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Blood Beast Terror 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
(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 group of inept amateur superheroes must try to save the day when a supervillain threatens to destroy a major superhero and the city.”
Honestly, I have a vague recollection of seeing Mystery Men in theatres back when it was originally released and not being all that impressed by it. Sitting down for a rewatch with this all-new 4K Ultra HD release pretty much reconfirmed my estimation of it – that meaning it’s just not very good – but I did probably appreciate a bit more the flick’s understandable aesthetic. For those uninformed, Men essentially copies the art deco look of the 1930’s and 1940’s so masterfully reintroduced on the silver screen with Tim Burton’s Batman (1989) and truly amped up on television with Batman: The Animated Series. But … Men was shot and released at a time when superhero films had begun to lag just a bit under curious misdirection by the late Joel Schumacher (of the lesser Batman movies). As a consequence, it probably failed to gain any legitimate traction in the marketplace, though I’ve been assured through reading that the Ben Stiller headliner has a big, big cult audience. Stranger things have happened, as they say.
Now, I have read some commentary suggesting that – ahem – perhaps Men was in reality “ahead of its time,” implying that screenwriter Neil Cuthbert’s sardonic tone might be embraced more today. Certainly, the never-ending assault of Marvel Entertainment releases – both on screens big and small – have more properly ‘prepared’ the marketplace for the true creative potential in looking further at spandex-wearing heroes and antiheroes. As a consequence, shows like HBO/Max’s Doom Patrol and Amazon’s The Boys amply demonstrate that today’s viewers might be more inclined do-gooders not so squeaky clean as those typically pushed by both Marvel and DC’s starting line-up; but I’d argue that Men – also a comics-to-film property – would have a long way to go given its embrace of the purely juvenile antics of regular Joes turns extraordinary.
Simply put: if you find farts funny, then Men is a toot … I mean ‘hoot.’
Cuthbert’s script – under Kinka Usher’s direction – really goes hot and heavy for juvenile appeal. While none of its suits are faster than a speeding bullet or able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, The Spleen (a perfectly cast Paul Reubens) can fill the room with the noxious releases from his colon with the pull of his finger. The Blue Raja (a curiously miscast Hank Azaria) fights crime with his unique ability of hurling cutlery with deadly results at ne’er-do-wells. William H. Macy’s ‘The Shoveler’ dispenses his particular brand of justice with the use of – you guessed it – a big shovel. And filmdom’s favorite prankster Ben Stiller rounds out the fold in the guise of ‘Furious,’ a fellow whose uncharacteristic white male rage apparently gives him the power to … well … it’s never quite clear …
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A group of inept amateur superheroes must try to save the day when a supervillain threatens to destroy a major superhero and the city.”
Honestly, I have a vague recollection of seeing Mystery Men in theatres back when it was originally released and not being all that impressed by it. Sitting down for a rewatch with this all-new 4K Ultra HD release pretty much reconfirmed my estimation of it – that meaning it’s just not very good – but I did probably appreciate a bit more the flick’s understandable aesthetic. For those uninformed, Men essentially copies the art deco look of the 1930’s and 1940’s so masterfully reintroduced on the silver screen with Tim Burton’s Batman (1989) and truly amped up on television with Batman: The Animated Series. But … Men was shot and released at a time when superhero films had begun to lag just a bit under curious misdirection by the late Joel Schumacher (of the lesser Batman movies). As a consequence, it probably failed to gain any legitimate traction in the marketplace, though I’ve been assured through reading that the Ben Stiller headliner has a big, big cult audience. Stranger things have happened, as they say.
Now, I have read some commentary suggesting that – ahem – perhaps Men was in reality “ahead of its time,” implying that screenwriter Neil Cuthbert’s sardonic tone might be embraced more today. Certainly, the never-ending assault of Marvel Entertainment releases – both on screens big and small – have more properly ‘prepared’ the marketplace for the true creative potential in looking further at spandex-wearing heroes and antiheroes. As a consequence, shows like HBO/Max’s Doom Patrol and Amazon’s The Boys amply demonstrate that today’s viewers might be more inclined do-gooders not so squeaky clean as those typically pushed by both Marvel and DC’s starting line-up; but I’d argue that Men – also a comics-to-film property – would have a long way to go given its embrace of the purely juvenile antics of regular Joes turns extraordinary.
Simply put: if you find farts funny, then Men is a toot … I mean ‘hoot.’
Cuthbert’s script – under Kinka Usher’s direction – really goes hot and heavy for juvenile appeal. While none of its suits are faster than a speeding bullet or able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, The Spleen (a perfectly cast Paul Reubens) can fill the room with the noxious releases from his colon with the pull of his finger. The Blue Raja (a curiously miscast Hank Azaria) fights crime with his unique ability of hurling cutlery with deadly results at ne’er-do-wells. William H. Macy’s ‘The Shoveler’ dispenses his particular brand of justice with the use of – you guessed it – a big shovel. And filmdom’s favorite prankster Ben Stiller rounds out the fold in the guise of ‘Furious,’ a fellow whose uncharacteristic white male rage apparently gives him the power to … well … it’s never quite clear …
In any event, the motley crew of crime-fighting irregulars balance out the duties of crafting their own origins’ picture while besting Champion City’s resident baddie – Casanova Frankenstein (an utterly wasted Geoffrey Rush) – just in the knick of time; and I suppose – on that front – it’s easy to understand Men’s albeit limited appeal. Much like their colorful founding in print, superhero programs truly flourished on television in the late 1960’s and throughout the 1970’s in cartoon format; and Men rather authentically (perhaps too much so) feels like live-action animation. Its plots and subplots function on said simplicity – punchlines are easy to see, even for those of us without supervision – and the team fall apart yet come together with the same formulaic consistency afforded each and every thirty-minute adventure with the Super-Friends. If it’s nuance you want, then that’s in short supply.
Where the flick does work best is in both copying and lampooning the aesthetic of those Batman cinema adventures that ultimately inspired its existence. Were you to watch Batman (1988), Batman Returns (1992), Batman Forever (1995), or even the deserved maligned Batman & Robin (1997) as companion features, it’s inarguably clear that Men’s intent is to both give its predecessors’ an affirming nod as well as the thumbing of its nose back. It’s saying, “We can do what you can do, but we’re doing it all for laughs and a good time.”
No doubt those who loved this one back then and even today still agree.
Mystery Men (1999) was produced by Universal Pictures, Golar Productions, Dark Horse Entertainment, Image Comics, and a few other participants. (If those facts truly interest you, then you’ll find them on IMDB.com.) DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? Wowza! Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights and sounds of this brand-new HDR restoration (from the original camera negative) looked and sounded damn fabulous. If you’re a first-timer, then you’re in for a treat. If you’re revisiting this one, then you’re really in for a treat as it’s probably not looked and sounded so good … even in its original theatrical run. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then buckle up for a director’s commentary, some deleted scenes, the theatrical trailer, and an assortment of behind-the-scenes featurettes that go far to round out this occasionally funny experience.
Mildly recommended.
If it’s unclear, then let me assure you that – while I’m not a fan of Mystery Men – I can still appreciate what all involved accomplished here. Where it tries and fails, there’s still an inherent ambition at work throughout the film – most of which are tied up in some very, very good production details, filming, and background detail. My quibbles are, largely, owed to its incessant predictability as well as the troupe’s demonstrated desire to go for the cheap and easy laughs. What can I say? I prefer my satire just a wee bit smarter.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray copy of Mystery Men (1999) 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
Where the flick does work best is in both copying and lampooning the aesthetic of those Batman cinema adventures that ultimately inspired its existence. Were you to watch Batman (1988), Batman Returns (1992), Batman Forever (1995), or even the deserved maligned Batman & Robin (1997) as companion features, it’s inarguably clear that Men’s intent is to both give its predecessors’ an affirming nod as well as the thumbing of its nose back. It’s saying, “We can do what you can do, but we’re doing it all for laughs and a good time.”
No doubt those who loved this one back then and even today still agree.
Mystery Men (1999) was produced by Universal Pictures, Golar Productions, Dark Horse Entertainment, Image Comics, and a few other participants. (If those facts truly interest you, then you’ll find them on IMDB.com.) DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? Wowza! Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights and sounds of this brand-new HDR restoration (from the original camera negative) looked and sounded damn fabulous. If you’re a first-timer, then you’re in for a treat. If you’re revisiting this one, then you’re really in for a treat as it’s probably not looked and sounded so good … even in its original theatrical run. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then buckle up for a director’s commentary, some deleted scenes, the theatrical trailer, and an assortment of behind-the-scenes featurettes that go far to round out this occasionally funny experience.
Mildly recommended.
If it’s unclear, then let me assure you that – while I’m not a fan of Mystery Men – I can still appreciate what all involved accomplished here. Where it tries and fails, there’s still an inherent ambition at work throughout the film – most of which are tied up in some very, very good production details, filming, and background detail. My quibbles are, largely, owed to its incessant predictability as well as the troupe’s demonstrated desire to go for the cheap and easy laughs. What can I say? I prefer my satire just a wee bit smarter.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray copy of Mystery Men (1999) 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
Full disclosure: I honestly think that films centered on religion – or the many aspects of it including grace, goodness, and mercy – rarely give that institution and its men and women a fair shake.
I’ve often argued that the way we’re wired – culturally, psychologically, individually, etc. – is to work against the grain of acclimation. We’re brought up on the ideals of rugged individualism – at least, in the good ol’ United States of America, we are – and every fiber of our being responds favorably to this principle when its instructed properly. We strive to exceed, and – many times – we learn very young that the bulk of this accomplishment happens when we toil away in private, not with a group. It’s this pursuit of excellence that varies from person-to-person; while we might take comfort in knowing that others encounter many of the same obstacles we do, we nevertheless work toward distinguishing ourselves from the wider population-at-large when such opportunities present themselves.
Where this philosophy meets one of its greatest challenges is melding the ideas of faith with a congregation. Despite accepting a specific doctrine under which we worship, we’re still likely to find variances about what others ‘believe’ versus our own dogma. Though church brings us together, we’re still allowed to practice as we wish outside of its doors; and there’s no doubt been a wealth of controversies throughout the decades wherein followers of one doctrine acted contrary to the church’s expressed codes of behavior. Hell, even priests and preachers have been found guilty straying from the ‘Word of God’ on that front.
Drama loves a fallen warrior, and – for this reason – The Leech tries to capitalize first with judgment and then with laughs (or is that vice versa?) in this story of ‘Father David,’ a pious man who turns out to be vastly less so (or does he?) than he would have the dwindling membership of his small church on the edge of Nowhere U.S.A. believe. It’s yet one more theatrical swipe at those who try-and-fail to live up to expectations Hollywood would tell you haven’t been in vogue since the days of Moses … which is precisely why the film fails to live up to anything more than ‘one more theatrical swipe.’
I’ve often argued that the way we’re wired – culturally, psychologically, individually, etc. – is to work against the grain of acclimation. We’re brought up on the ideals of rugged individualism – at least, in the good ol’ United States of America, we are – and every fiber of our being responds favorably to this principle when its instructed properly. We strive to exceed, and – many times – we learn very young that the bulk of this accomplishment happens when we toil away in private, not with a group. It’s this pursuit of excellence that varies from person-to-person; while we might take comfort in knowing that others encounter many of the same obstacles we do, we nevertheless work toward distinguishing ourselves from the wider population-at-large when such opportunities present themselves.
Where this philosophy meets one of its greatest challenges is melding the ideas of faith with a congregation. Despite accepting a specific doctrine under which we worship, we’re still likely to find variances about what others ‘believe’ versus our own dogma. Though church brings us together, we’re still allowed to practice as we wish outside of its doors; and there’s no doubt been a wealth of controversies throughout the decades wherein followers of one doctrine acted contrary to the church’s expressed codes of behavior. Hell, even priests and preachers have been found guilty straying from the ‘Word of God’ on that front.
Drama loves a fallen warrior, and – for this reason – The Leech tries to capitalize first with judgment and then with laughs (or is that vice versa?) in this story of ‘Father David,’ a pious man who turns out to be vastly less so (or does he?) than he would have the dwindling membership of his small church on the edge of Nowhere U.S.A. believe. It’s yet one more theatrical swipe at those who try-and-fail to live up to expectations Hollywood would tell you haven’t been in vogue since the days of Moses … which is precisely why the film fails to live up to anything more than ‘one more theatrical swipe.’
(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:
“A devout priest welcomes a struggling couple into his house at Christmas time. What begins as a simple act of kindness quickly becomes the ultimate test of faith once the sanctity of his home is jeopardized.”
Oy vey.
The church has long been the target of some venomous storytelling, and – while I’ll reserve the judgment of whether that’s warranted or not to others – I’ll freely admit I’m rarely a fan of it. Occasionally, there’s a good bit of yarn woven into a compelling tapestry, but more often than not so much of it feels like our cultural betters getting up on their soapbox for ninety minutes of sermonizing. Frankly, I see much more of it as lazy and uninspired, especially given the fact that the entertainment industry has both produced and covered up on some rather obvious sex crimes of moguls like Harvey Weinstein, Roman Polanski, and even funnyman Bill Cosby.
Setting aside my bias, I’ll admit to the fact that – so far as performances go – The Leech does offer up two interesting portrayals that make its run-time move briskly: Graham Skipper is occasionally inspired as ‘Father David,’ and Jeremy Gardner is equally lascivious as ‘Terry,’ the architect of their depicted moral collapse … not that Terry’s fall was so great. Essentially, he’s the ultimate bohemian – not so much a man as he is a creature of the flesh – living a raucous lifestyle involving endless gratification, even when that means risking being caught in the act of masturbation while living under a pastor’s roof. From this clash of regimes, writer/director Eric Pennycoff squeezes out one scene after another laced with some uncomfortable laughs and loose comic proselytizing.
If anything, the flaw as I see it with The Leech is two-fold.
First, David’s moral ruin was – in my estimation – vastly too easy.
Though I don’t consider myself a religious man in any regard (I have my own faith, and that’s that), I have attended a handful of different churches in my life and had the good fortune to speak with an interact with a good number of spiritual leaders. Taking these men out of the church and repositioning them in their homes – dare I say – really does nothing to remove their respective moral codes. In The Leech, Pennycoff would have you accept that perhaps the lack of the church’s structure and trappings allow for a once respectable pastor to let down his defenses and be seduced by the – ahem – Dark Side. My experience has taught me that true men of faith know all too well that it’s these moments of privacy that require an even stronger commitment to faith … so the film’s central premise is flawed.
Second? Well, there’s this business of ‘The Leech,’ and I kinda/sorta found it offensive.
From the film’s IMDB.com citation:
“A devout priest welcomes a struggling couple into his house at Christmas time. What begins as a simple act of kindness quickly becomes the ultimate test of faith once the sanctity of his home is jeopardized.”
Oy vey.
The church has long been the target of some venomous storytelling, and – while I’ll reserve the judgment of whether that’s warranted or not to others – I’ll freely admit I’m rarely a fan of it. Occasionally, there’s a good bit of yarn woven into a compelling tapestry, but more often than not so much of it feels like our cultural betters getting up on their soapbox for ninety minutes of sermonizing. Frankly, I see much more of it as lazy and uninspired, especially given the fact that the entertainment industry has both produced and covered up on some rather obvious sex crimes of moguls like Harvey Weinstein, Roman Polanski, and even funnyman Bill Cosby.
Setting aside my bias, I’ll admit to the fact that – so far as performances go – The Leech does offer up two interesting portrayals that make its run-time move briskly: Graham Skipper is occasionally inspired as ‘Father David,’ and Jeremy Gardner is equally lascivious as ‘Terry,’ the architect of their depicted moral collapse … not that Terry’s fall was so great. Essentially, he’s the ultimate bohemian – not so much a man as he is a creature of the flesh – living a raucous lifestyle involving endless gratification, even when that means risking being caught in the act of masturbation while living under a pastor’s roof. From this clash of regimes, writer/director Eric Pennycoff squeezes out one scene after another laced with some uncomfortable laughs and loose comic proselytizing.
If anything, the flaw as I see it with The Leech is two-fold.
First, David’s moral ruin was – in my estimation – vastly too easy.
Though I don’t consider myself a religious man in any regard (I have my own faith, and that’s that), I have attended a handful of different churches in my life and had the good fortune to speak with an interact with a good number of spiritual leaders. Taking these men out of the church and repositioning them in their homes – dare I say – really does nothing to remove their respective moral codes. In The Leech, Pennycoff would have you accept that perhaps the lack of the church’s structure and trappings allow for a once respectable pastor to let down his defenses and be seduced by the – ahem – Dark Side. My experience has taught me that true men of faith know all too well that it’s these moments of privacy that require an even stronger commitment to faith … so the film’s central premise is flawed.
Second? Well, there’s this business of ‘The Leech,’ and I kinda/sorta found it offensive.
Pennycoff’s script tells us a Biblical parable of ‘The Leech,’ that being a kind of spiritual demon who preys on the weak and downtrodden. (There are suggestions, for example, of Satan serving in the role as ‘the leech.’) Clearly, Terry is depicted as ‘leeching’ off David, accepting the man’s eager hospitality and then making himself entirely at home to increasingly ridiculous proportions. Eventually, Terry even brings his displaced girlfriend Lexi (a criminally underused Taylor Zaudtke) into the dwelling, and she is shown just as parasitic as her chosen mate. However, David’s plight – especially in the second half – explores a variation on this idea, that perhaps it is he who has been ’the leech’ all along, sponging off the goodness and graces of the church, his flock, and his deceased mother to the point wherein he has lost all true independence. One could argue that it’s this long-gestating internalized guilt that causes the preacher even greater psychological trauma – not the plunge into depravity actively orchestrated by Terry and Lexi – and, again, I just see that as storytelling contrary to my own world experience.
Still, I’d be lying if I told you that The Leech has no authentic laughs because that’s far from the truth. Skipper and Gardner are terrific opposite one another. Both demonstrate an intrinsic understanding of their darkly comic pairing, and their scenes play out exceedingly well, especially with the resulting discomfort. (Sadly, Zaudtke really isn’t given much more than a female manifestation of Terry, so I’ll pass on reacting any more to it.) Alas, it’s the half-baked messaging and disturbing finale to The Leech that truly sucked the vein dry, and that’s a shame.
The Leech (2022) was produced by Doomcroak Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the superb folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights-and-sounds were fabulous from start-to-finish. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, the disc boasts a wealth of materials, including an audio commentary, sponsored Q&As, some behind-the-scenes featurettes, and much, much more. As usual with Arrow Films, it’s a glorious collection for fans who like this sort of thing. Well done.
Mildly recommended … but with some reservations. While a reasonable effective and well-made psychological thriller, The Leech still suffers from a central character – a man of God – who all too easily succumbs to Earthly delights that rather quickly put him on a path to ruin, quite possibly to the delight of far too many storytellers and not as many in the viewing audience. Performances work precisely as designed by writer/director Pennycoff, serving up a predictable finish to an all-too-common descent into madness by a man typically made of vastly stronger stock. Disappointing … but not surprising.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary copy of The Leech (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
Still, I’d be lying if I told you that The Leech has no authentic laughs because that’s far from the truth. Skipper and Gardner are terrific opposite one another. Both demonstrate an intrinsic understanding of their darkly comic pairing, and their scenes play out exceedingly well, especially with the resulting discomfort. (Sadly, Zaudtke really isn’t given much more than a female manifestation of Terry, so I’ll pass on reacting any more to it.) Alas, it’s the half-baked messaging and disturbing finale to The Leech that truly sucked the vein dry, and that’s a shame.
The Leech (2022) was produced by Doomcroak Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the superb folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights-and-sounds were fabulous from start-to-finish. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, the disc boasts a wealth of materials, including an audio commentary, sponsored Q&As, some behind-the-scenes featurettes, and much, much more. As usual with Arrow Films, it’s a glorious collection for fans who like this sort of thing. Well done.
Mildly recommended … but with some reservations. While a reasonable effective and well-made psychological thriller, The Leech still suffers from a central character – a man of God – who all too easily succumbs to Earthly delights that rather quickly put him on a path to ruin, quite possibly to the delight of far too many storytellers and not as many in the viewing audience. Performances work precisely as designed by writer/director Pennycoff, serving up a predictable finish to an all-too-common descent into madness by a man typically made of vastly stronger stock. Disappointing … but not surprising.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary copy of The Leech (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
- Published on
A wise man once asked: “How can we appreciate an all-new journey when we’ve no idea of what our destination is?”
This highlights the difficulty of reviewing a property like 1899: as a traveler, we have absolutely no idea of where we’re headed until we get there. Yes, yes, and yes: we may be able to close our eyes and reach out in the darkness, and maybe by feeling around and touching a bit of this or that we just might imagine what a twist or turn implies … but because the framework is built in such a way as to maintain ultimate secrecy surrounding the end of our trip, I’d still suggest that this is a journey likely to disappoint as many as it endears.
TV’s Lost ventured into similar thematic waters.
Across its six mystery-fueled seasons, its creative behind the curtain worked very hard to continually redefine the structure of its intense storytelling. For a time, viewers were treated to flashbacks that tied centrally back to characters in their current predicament. Then – perhaps when that format exhausted its usefulness – they turned their sights into the future, cultivating a look at where the program might be headed, though never quite ignoring the TV present. Finally, the showrunners engineered a little something something they liked to call a – ahem – ‘flash-sideways,’ in which popular characters found themselves in a somewhat parallel existence … only to inevitably reveal what many still in the viewing audience had long suspected, that being everyone had passed on and what was being explored was a loose afterlife. Sigh. I still want my money back for what I wasted on that finale.
Thankfully, 1899’s creators – Baran bo Odar and Jantje Friese – have a background that demonstrates perhaps a better reason to ‘trust the maker’ than did Lost: their previous show – Netflix’s stellar Dark – lasted three intriguing seasons, perhaps just long enough to sustain an audience’s level of disbelief effectively and honestly with such make-believe as time travel, temporal paradoxes, and parallel existences. Though I’ll admit that I thought the bloom came off the rose quite a bit with its third season, Dark still rather efficiently wrapped up its narrative – far more successfully than did Lost – even if viewers weren’t all that enamored with the final solution. (Hint: I wasn’t … but it still functioned as a reasonable and prescient conclusion.)
Still, 1899 is not without some shortcomings.
This highlights the difficulty of reviewing a property like 1899: as a traveler, we have absolutely no idea of where we’re headed until we get there. Yes, yes, and yes: we may be able to close our eyes and reach out in the darkness, and maybe by feeling around and touching a bit of this or that we just might imagine what a twist or turn implies … but because the framework is built in such a way as to maintain ultimate secrecy surrounding the end of our trip, I’d still suggest that this is a journey likely to disappoint as many as it endears.
TV’s Lost ventured into similar thematic waters.
Across its six mystery-fueled seasons, its creative behind the curtain worked very hard to continually redefine the structure of its intense storytelling. For a time, viewers were treated to flashbacks that tied centrally back to characters in their current predicament. Then – perhaps when that format exhausted its usefulness – they turned their sights into the future, cultivating a look at where the program might be headed, though never quite ignoring the TV present. Finally, the showrunners engineered a little something something they liked to call a – ahem – ‘flash-sideways,’ in which popular characters found themselves in a somewhat parallel existence … only to inevitably reveal what many still in the viewing audience had long suspected, that being everyone had passed on and what was being explored was a loose afterlife. Sigh. I still want my money back for what I wasted on that finale.
Thankfully, 1899’s creators – Baran bo Odar and Jantje Friese – have a background that demonstrates perhaps a better reason to ‘trust the maker’ than did Lost: their previous show – Netflix’s stellar Dark – lasted three intriguing seasons, perhaps just long enough to sustain an audience’s level of disbelief effectively and honestly with such make-believe as time travel, temporal paradoxes, and parallel existences. Though I’ll admit that I thought the bloom came off the rose quite a bit with its third season, Dark still rather efficiently wrapped up its narrative – far more successfully than did Lost – even if viewers weren’t all that enamored with the final solution. (Hint: I wasn’t … but it still functioned as a reasonable and prescient conclusion.)
Still, 1899 is not without some shortcomings.
At its core, 1899 appears to be a show concerned with reality and how both these characters and (shudder!) the audience process it. There are heavy suggestions that what’s transpiring could both be real and/or imagined, and this, at times, makes the program more than a bit confusing … as reality can occasionally be. It explores real (TV) time along with flashbacks and what might be dreams or visions, often blending these various ‘worlds’ together in such a way that can make it difficult to keep up. Thankfully, its fairly large cast – main and key supporting players – does whittle itself down (through a series of events), so ‘keeping up with the Jones’ does get easier as it progresses. Stay awake (snicker snicker), stick with it, and you’ll reap some modest rewards.
However, Odar and Friese’s program does and doesn’t cover a lot of ground in its first season, a total of eight episodes. This isn’t to say that it’s either too long or too short; rather, the installments – roughly about midway through their run – begin to overlap themselves thematically. Things happen that – narratively – make little sense until you get a bigger picture, requiring you – the viewer – to carry a lot of information with you to that point. Once you do know what’s going on with respect to the show’s world-hopping, I’m still not convinced this was the easiest means to an end. I’m inclined to suggest – though I do hate doing this – that there has to be a slimmer edit to all of these events that would make vastly greater sense … but at the end of the day it’s still my job to react to art as it’s presented and leave the revisions to the artists.
Lastly, once the – ahem – final reality to what’s actually taking place is clearly established, I find myself still questioning whether or not this reveal is authentic. The scripts invest an incredible amount of time in misdirection (to a point), all of the twists and turns intending to heighten the tension, drama, and suspense. But I’m not sure that’s always the case here. Some of it is indeed inventive, but when an audience is treated to so many surprises at a consistent pace it becomes only natural to suspect a big discovery really might be doing little more than housing yet one more mystery. The season ends with (I won’t spoil it) a pretty dramatic repositioning – one that might have half the audience scratching their heads and the other half trying to figure out just what it means for everything that took place across these eight episodes – so please if anything keep your thinking caps on tight, folks.
What all of this still does in the end is position me with a variation of the question that I asked at the opening: “What did I think about what happened when what happened might not be part of the final destination?”
However, Odar and Friese’s program does and doesn’t cover a lot of ground in its first season, a total of eight episodes. This isn’t to say that it’s either too long or too short; rather, the installments – roughly about midway through their run – begin to overlap themselves thematically. Things happen that – narratively – make little sense until you get a bigger picture, requiring you – the viewer – to carry a lot of information with you to that point. Once you do know what’s going on with respect to the show’s world-hopping, I’m still not convinced this was the easiest means to an end. I’m inclined to suggest – though I do hate doing this – that there has to be a slimmer edit to all of these events that would make vastly greater sense … but at the end of the day it’s still my job to react to art as it’s presented and leave the revisions to the artists.
Lastly, once the – ahem – final reality to what’s actually taking place is clearly established, I find myself still questioning whether or not this reveal is authentic. The scripts invest an incredible amount of time in misdirection (to a point), all of the twists and turns intending to heighten the tension, drama, and suspense. But I’m not sure that’s always the case here. Some of it is indeed inventive, but when an audience is treated to so many surprises at a consistent pace it becomes only natural to suspect a big discovery really might be doing little more than housing yet one more mystery. The season ends with (I won’t spoil it) a pretty dramatic repositioning – one that might have half the audience scratching their heads and the other half trying to figure out just what it means for everything that took place across these eight episodes – so please if anything keep your thinking caps on tight, folks.
What all of this still does in the end is position me with a variation of the question that I asked at the opening: “What did I think about what happened when what happened might not be part of the final destination?”
Well …
On a production level, 1899 is exceedingly well-crafted, excellently staged, and exceedingly well performed.
In the guise of our lead heroine ‘Maura Franklin,’ the award-winning Emily Beecham gives a compelling performance. Though her character is couched in the writing in such a way that we don’t truly know if she’s a protagonist or an antagonist, she makes the program watchable by conveying the desire of a woman to both unravel the mystery her life has somehow become as well as the desire to set things right, even perhaps at the cost of her own existence. There’s an earnestness to her plight, making it easy to root for her along the way. Here’s hoping she can hold it all together even though the program – if renewed – promises to take her in yet one more challenging direction.
As ‘Captain Eyk Larsen,’ actor Andreas Pietschmann is, thankfully, a familiar face: he was last seen as the mysterious stranger through all seasons of Odar and Friese’s Dark … so, yes, it’s nice to recognize a player! As 1899’s convoluted plot develops, it becomes increasingly clear that – like the lady Franklin – his fate is somehow tied in with this bizarre history; but the second half of the season kinda/sorta shelves his character in a way that slows down the progress more than a bit. (What can I say? In times of crisis, it’s comforting – even for the audience – to have a person of authority present, but Larsen is absent for much of the plot, so I think this was a mistake.) His ‘blue collar mentality’ fuels some good scenes as needed, and his presence is an asset to the show.
Beyond those two leads, the cast benefits from some other strong players, but – alas – as can happen with having so many actors and actresses no one really gets any pivotal or instrumental scenes to the central plot. While there are clearly a handful of several subplots all swirling around the program’s highs and lows, they inevitably appear inconsequential when you reach Episode Eight and all is revealed (somewhat). Because of this, I’ve no idea what to make of them – superficially, they appear to have little to nothing to do with where the franchise is headed, should Netflix pick this up and push it to fruition.
In case you’ve missed it, 1899 has a premise that’s somewhat difficult to decipher without spoiling it for audiences, and that’s something I work hard to avoid on SciFiHistory.Net. A bit long – and more than a bit confusing at times – it’s still an interesting idea perfectly suited for long-form storytelling … though those who like to binge might wanna space out the episodes a bit in order to avoid the possible mental exhaustion.
-- EZ
On a production level, 1899 is exceedingly well-crafted, excellently staged, and exceedingly well performed.
In the guise of our lead heroine ‘Maura Franklin,’ the award-winning Emily Beecham gives a compelling performance. Though her character is couched in the writing in such a way that we don’t truly know if she’s a protagonist or an antagonist, she makes the program watchable by conveying the desire of a woman to both unravel the mystery her life has somehow become as well as the desire to set things right, even perhaps at the cost of her own existence. There’s an earnestness to her plight, making it easy to root for her along the way. Here’s hoping she can hold it all together even though the program – if renewed – promises to take her in yet one more challenging direction.
As ‘Captain Eyk Larsen,’ actor Andreas Pietschmann is, thankfully, a familiar face: he was last seen as the mysterious stranger through all seasons of Odar and Friese’s Dark … so, yes, it’s nice to recognize a player! As 1899’s convoluted plot develops, it becomes increasingly clear that – like the lady Franklin – his fate is somehow tied in with this bizarre history; but the second half of the season kinda/sorta shelves his character in a way that slows down the progress more than a bit. (What can I say? In times of crisis, it’s comforting – even for the audience – to have a person of authority present, but Larsen is absent for much of the plot, so I think this was a mistake.) His ‘blue collar mentality’ fuels some good scenes as needed, and his presence is an asset to the show.
Beyond those two leads, the cast benefits from some other strong players, but – alas – as can happen with having so many actors and actresses no one really gets any pivotal or instrumental scenes to the central plot. While there are clearly a handful of several subplots all swirling around the program’s highs and lows, they inevitably appear inconsequential when you reach Episode Eight and all is revealed (somewhat). Because of this, I’ve no idea what to make of them – superficially, they appear to have little to nothing to do with where the franchise is headed, should Netflix pick this up and push it to fruition.
In case you’ve missed it, 1899 has a premise that’s somewhat difficult to decipher without spoiling it for audiences, and that’s something I work hard to avoid on SciFiHistory.Net. A bit long – and more than a bit confusing at times – it’s still an interesting idea perfectly suited for long-form storytelling … though those who like to binge might wanna space out the episodes a bit in order to avoid the possible mental exhaustion.
-- EZ