- Published on
Folks, I read just earlier today of the announcement on The Hollywood Reporter noting the passing of long-time screen veteran Michael Kopsa. It's been reported that he had been suffering from complications from brain cancer, and his wife broke the news herself on Twitter just today.
Just a quick look into his IMDB.com profile will assure you that this man was a true heavyweight in the world of genre projects. He leaves behind a resume of well over two hundred different roles; though some of them were small, there's no discounting his incredible contribution to many of the shows we've grown to love over the years.
Need a few names?
Well, how about the fact that -- as a voice actor -- the man scored his debut bringing to life aboard the original incarnation of Mobile Suit Gundam (1979-1980)?
Go on, you say?
The list is long and illustrious, indeed. Sliders. Highlander. The X-Files. Honey, I Shrunk The Kids: The TV Show. The Net. Viper. Mercy Point. The Sentinel. The Outer Limits. Seven Days. The Immortal. Stargate: SG-1. Jeremiah. Smallville. The Twilight Zone. Touching Evil. The Dead Zone. The 4400. Eureka. Flash Gordon. Masters Of Science Fiction. Watchmen (2009).
And this doesn't even touch on his many voice appearances in animation or as a supporting player offscreen in countless other projects.
Though he's no longer with us, we'll thankfully always have his work to remember him by.
Thoughts and prayers are extended to the fans, family, and friends of Mr. Kopsa.
-- EZ
Just a quick look into his IMDB.com profile will assure you that this man was a true heavyweight in the world of genre projects. He leaves behind a resume of well over two hundred different roles; though some of them were small, there's no discounting his incredible contribution to many of the shows we've grown to love over the years.
Need a few names?
Well, how about the fact that -- as a voice actor -- the man scored his debut bringing to life aboard the original incarnation of Mobile Suit Gundam (1979-1980)?
Go on, you say?
The list is long and illustrious, indeed. Sliders. Highlander. The X-Files. Honey, I Shrunk The Kids: The TV Show. The Net. Viper. Mercy Point. The Sentinel. The Outer Limits. Seven Days. The Immortal. Stargate: SG-1. Jeremiah. Smallville. The Twilight Zone. Touching Evil. The Dead Zone. The 4400. Eureka. Flash Gordon. Masters Of Science Fiction. Watchmen (2009).
And this doesn't even touch on his many voice appearances in animation or as a supporting player offscreen in countless other projects.
Though he's no longer with us, we'll thankfully always have his work to remember him by.
Thoughts and prayers are extended to the fans, family, and friends of Mr. Kopsa.
-- EZ
- Published on
Despite what some of you think (based on my emails!), I'm just as human as the next blogger, and what that means to me is that -- in the vast pantheon of performers, writers, directors, etc. -- there are going to be folks whose work -- for whatever reason -- just doesn't resonate as much with me as it does with others. You know what I mean? There's no denying great performances when you see them -- and I've no doubt that each and every talent has his or her share of good ones and great ones -- but occasionally each of us needs something a bit more to 'click' with a player.
That was always my case with Leslie Jordan.
No matter what I saw him in -- the fellow's career is a wealth of mainstream stuff, but he did give genre fans a glimmer of his gifts here and there -- I always thought he did good (if not great) work ... and, yet, I just never quite connected with him. There's always this indefinable quality about acting -- something that brings fans closer to the actors and actresses they admire more than others -- and this one just escaped me.
Now ...
I want to be perfectly blunt here: I'd still argue that the man was a bona fide genius who knew his brand and delivered on it each and every opportunity. I'm offering the above out of my respect for his persona -- of which I've seen plenty as my lovely wife was a huge, huge fan of his internet stuff, and this guy was arguably one of the funniest dudes of his generation (and I mean THAT with absolutely no reservation at all). This guy was downright hilarious to watch talk about his life, his work, what he did today, why exercise fails him, what he did during COVID, etc. Seriously ... I encourage anyone reading this today to seek out his Instagram and Twitter stuff before it disappears into the great beyond ... it's some damn funny stuff.
So while his work may've never quite tickled my fancy, I'll admit unabashed love for who he was as a human being. That's how I'll remember him, and that's how I think he should be revered. He was a man who opened up doors to share a helluva lot of himself with friends, fans, family, and beyond; and how many of us can say they've ever really accomplished the same?
Dare I say: the world's a colder place without him?
Prayers are extended to the friends, fans, and family of Leslie Jordan.
-- EZ
That was always my case with Leslie Jordan.
No matter what I saw him in -- the fellow's career is a wealth of mainstream stuff, but he did give genre fans a glimmer of his gifts here and there -- I always thought he did good (if not great) work ... and, yet, I just never quite connected with him. There's always this indefinable quality about acting -- something that brings fans closer to the actors and actresses they admire more than others -- and this one just escaped me.
Now ...
I want to be perfectly blunt here: I'd still argue that the man was a bona fide genius who knew his brand and delivered on it each and every opportunity. I'm offering the above out of my respect for his persona -- of which I've seen plenty as my lovely wife was a huge, huge fan of his internet stuff, and this guy was arguably one of the funniest dudes of his generation (and I mean THAT with absolutely no reservation at all). This guy was downright hilarious to watch talk about his life, his work, what he did today, why exercise fails him, what he did during COVID, etc. Seriously ... I encourage anyone reading this today to seek out his Instagram and Twitter stuff before it disappears into the great beyond ... it's some damn funny stuff.
So while his work may've never quite tickled my fancy, I'll admit unabashed love for who he was as a human being. That's how I'll remember him, and that's how I think he should be revered. He was a man who opened up doors to share a helluva lot of himself with friends, fans, family, and beyond; and how many of us can say they've ever really accomplished the same?
Dare I say: the world's a colder place without him?
Prayers are extended to the friends, fans, and family of Leslie Jordan.
-- EZ
- Published on
Here’s the truth, folks: I don’t revere George A. Romero’s Night Of The Living Dead nearly as much as I probably should.
I know, I know, I know. I’m an odd duck, and I’ve never argued otherwise, nor would I ever. As I’ve long tried to be as clear as possible on this point, Horror movies just don’t scare me the way they do other folks. Typically, I need more of an idea to inspire me to be genuinely up-in-arms over anything, and the slowly-closing-in-lumbering-zombie films just don’t have the stuffing to frighten me. Is it because I’m a good runner? That may play into it. Is it because I’m a nihilist? Well, I hope that wouldn’t be the case. Is it because I figure a legitimate zombie apocalypse will never take place? Maybe.
What I do have is an incredible amount of R-E-S-P-E-C-T for the feature. Let me tell you why.
For the uninformed, Romero’s Night isn’t the first film to explore zombies. Many film scholars credit that to 1932’s White Zombie – starring the great Bela Lugosi in a key role, I’ve seen and reviewed it right here – but I have read about a few other flicks that kinda/sorta flirted with zombie-like creations or creatures before even that. The difference in those early days was that there really were no hard and fast rules about what such a thing was, would be, and/or might become … and – for all intents and purposes – Romera’s film deserves an awful lot of the credit for ushering the modern era of zombiehood. It had rules. It made the horde a force of nature. And it never relented.
Also (and, again, I’m going on my limited research into this unique group of Horror films), Night was I think the first time audiences were faced with a societal collapse tied directly to these monsters. The resulting chaos as explored in the film – both the circumstances on the farm as well as the accompany news radio and television broadcasts – elevated the level of terror to something exponentially greater than anything seen before. On film, it’s one thing to flee for one’s life from a vampire, a werewolf, or a thing with gills. Having to do that from an entire town, an entire county, or an entire state? This was new territory the writer/director mapped out, and – as we all know today – storytellers almost rabidly took to the premise, so much so that decades later it’s still a phenomenon that interests (and frightens) audiences.
Considering Night as a stand-alone experience, it’s about as bare bones as you can get.
I know, I know, I know. I’m an odd duck, and I’ve never argued otherwise, nor would I ever. As I’ve long tried to be as clear as possible on this point, Horror movies just don’t scare me the way they do other folks. Typically, I need more of an idea to inspire me to be genuinely up-in-arms over anything, and the slowly-closing-in-lumbering-zombie films just don’t have the stuffing to frighten me. Is it because I’m a good runner? That may play into it. Is it because I’m a nihilist? Well, I hope that wouldn’t be the case. Is it because I figure a legitimate zombie apocalypse will never take place? Maybe.
What I do have is an incredible amount of R-E-S-P-E-C-T for the feature. Let me tell you why.
For the uninformed, Romero’s Night isn’t the first film to explore zombies. Many film scholars credit that to 1932’s White Zombie – starring the great Bela Lugosi in a key role, I’ve seen and reviewed it right here – but I have read about a few other flicks that kinda/sorta flirted with zombie-like creations or creatures before even that. The difference in those early days was that there really were no hard and fast rules about what such a thing was, would be, and/or might become … and – for all intents and purposes – Romera’s film deserves an awful lot of the credit for ushering the modern era of zombiehood. It had rules. It made the horde a force of nature. And it never relented.
Also (and, again, I’m going on my limited research into this unique group of Horror films), Night was I think the first time audiences were faced with a societal collapse tied directly to these monsters. The resulting chaos as explored in the film – both the circumstances on the farm as well as the accompany news radio and television broadcasts – elevated the level of terror to something exponentially greater than anything seen before. On film, it’s one thing to flee for one’s life from a vampire, a werewolf, or a thing with gills. Having to do that from an entire town, an entire county, or an entire state? This was new territory the writer/director mapped out, and – as we all know today – storytellers almost rabidly took to the premise, so much so that decades later it’s still a phenomenon that interests (and frightens) audiences.
Considering Night as a stand-alone experience, it’s about as bare bones as you can get.
Ben (Duane Jones) finds his way to a secluded farmhouse where he meets Barbra; together, they seal themselves into the home in a bid for protection against the growing horde of undead slowly surrounding the place. Honestly, you can’t get simpler than that – a locked house story wherein there are mysteries inside and out – though it spools out perhaps a bit predictably in a few sequences. But Romera uses the technology of the day – the aforementioned radio and TV – to move his story into deeper waters, giving the ordeal a life beyond what’s under a single roof and a level of tension that remained constant.
Night was independently produced, and – as most indie features – it carries with it a bit of messaging.
Depending upon one’s interpretation, the film could be said to be anti-Establishment (especially if the flesh-eaters are viewed as the possible result of living in society). When I’ve come up against that argument in groups, I’m quick to point out – however – that the zombies seem to work only effectively as a team; individually, they’re outrun, outgunned, outmaneuvered, etc. I do concede that the group of survivors inevitably fall apart because of their unwillingness to cooperate with one another, so maybe it’s really all a vicious circle.
Whether one agrees with it or not, racial division could be cited as part of Night’s fabric as well. While no character spends any great amount of time commenting on such differences, there’s a clear level of distrust between Ben (who is black) and Harry (played by Karl Hardman, who is white). It’s fair to suggest that both are belligerent to one another – Harry’s indifference specifically directed at his kinda/sorta adversary nearly costs Ben his life on more than a single occasion – so the suggestion of racist behavior deserves an examination.
Lastly, there’s no denying that Night’s ending – one that sees Ben surviving the ordeal only to be accidentally shot dead by his “saviors” – might imply that life and its accompanying struggles have an inherent meaninglessness to them. No matter what one faces and no matter how hard any battle is fought (won or lost), each of us is still destined for an ending that scares the Hell out of us. What we did? It won’t matter. What we achieved? It was fleeting. If the best we can hope for is to be gone from a simple mistake, then let’s make it quick and possibly painless – like that fateful shot-in-the-brain Romero defines as the only way to stop a walker – as opposed to spending a night exhausting oneself in an uphill campaign.
As I said in the opening, my take on this Night is far from the norm, and it’s certainly pretty far off from one who appreciates quality genre projects as much as I do. While I always give the flick the respect I believe it’s owed – I’ll even give it a thumbs up when reflecting on its goodness – it’s still one I rarely throw on when I’m in the mood for a good scare.
-- EZ
Night was independently produced, and – as most indie features – it carries with it a bit of messaging.
Depending upon one’s interpretation, the film could be said to be anti-Establishment (especially if the flesh-eaters are viewed as the possible result of living in society). When I’ve come up against that argument in groups, I’m quick to point out – however – that the zombies seem to work only effectively as a team; individually, they’re outrun, outgunned, outmaneuvered, etc. I do concede that the group of survivors inevitably fall apart because of their unwillingness to cooperate with one another, so maybe it’s really all a vicious circle.
Whether one agrees with it or not, racial division could be cited as part of Night’s fabric as well. While no character spends any great amount of time commenting on such differences, there’s a clear level of distrust between Ben (who is black) and Harry (played by Karl Hardman, who is white). It’s fair to suggest that both are belligerent to one another – Harry’s indifference specifically directed at his kinda/sorta adversary nearly costs Ben his life on more than a single occasion – so the suggestion of racist behavior deserves an examination.
Lastly, there’s no denying that Night’s ending – one that sees Ben surviving the ordeal only to be accidentally shot dead by his “saviors” – might imply that life and its accompanying struggles have an inherent meaninglessness to them. No matter what one faces and no matter how hard any battle is fought (won or lost), each of us is still destined for an ending that scares the Hell out of us. What we did? It won’t matter. What we achieved? It was fleeting. If the best we can hope for is to be gone from a simple mistake, then let’s make it quick and possibly painless – like that fateful shot-in-the-brain Romero defines as the only way to stop a walker – as opposed to spending a night exhausting oneself in an uphill campaign.
As I said in the opening, my take on this Night is far from the norm, and it’s certainly pretty far off from one who appreciates quality genre projects as much as I do. While I always give the flick the respect I believe it’s owed – I’ll even give it a thumbs up when reflecting on its goodness – it’s still one I rarely throw on when I’m in the mood for a good scare.
-- EZ
- Published on
Here is today’s history lesson, folks:
In 1988, writer/director Gregory Lamberson created an Indie Horror film titled Slime City. While it’s safe to suggest that it never went on to win any Academy Awards – not for the love of trying, that is, but Hollywood typically frowns on art they have no part in – the flick still worked hard and found its way into the hearts and minds of folks who like that sort of thing. One could make the case that, since this was the auteur’s debut picture, perhaps some of its shortcomings could be chalked up to a guy just getting used to the merchandise. Whatever the truth may be, clearly the central idea of “slime” stuck to its creator. (Yes, pun intended, dammit. I work hard on my puns.)
Flash forward an incredible two decades later, and Lamberson decided to dip back into those dangerous waters for an uncharacteristically late sequel (of sorts). Slime City Massacre (2010) picks up only a fraction of the storyteller’s elements of the original but expands on them in an all-new context, one set against the backdrop of American terrorism, vigilante justice, and a forgotten class of people living out their sad, sorry existence in a blighted, desecrated urban apocalypse. Into this world, a few strangers make a startling discovery: something from the past has survived, and it’s about to change the face of what’s left of the world as we know it.
(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 …)
In 1988, writer/director Gregory Lamberson created an Indie Horror film titled Slime City. While it’s safe to suggest that it never went on to win any Academy Awards – not for the love of trying, that is, but Hollywood typically frowns on art they have no part in – the flick still worked hard and found its way into the hearts and minds of folks who like that sort of thing. One could make the case that, since this was the auteur’s debut picture, perhaps some of its shortcomings could be chalked up to a guy just getting used to the merchandise. Whatever the truth may be, clearly the central idea of “slime” stuck to its creator. (Yes, pun intended, dammit. I work hard on my puns.)
Flash forward an incredible two decades later, and Lamberson decided to dip back into those dangerous waters for an uncharacteristically late sequel (of sorts). Slime City Massacre (2010) picks up only a fraction of the storyteller’s elements of the original but expands on them in an all-new context, one set against the backdrop of American terrorism, vigilante justice, and a forgotten class of people living out their sad, sorry existence in a blighted, desecrated urban apocalypse. Into this world, a few strangers make a startling discovery: something from the past has survived, and it’s about to change the face of what’s left of the world as we know it.
(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:
“Two fugitives seek refuge from a totalitarian government in the radioactive ruins of New York City seven years after a dirty bomb explosion. They join forces with a group of hardened survivors, and they discover a supply of a strange yogurt elixir. Soon the survivors mutate into ‘Slime Heads,’ murderous creatures possessed by the spirits of the dead. The mutants’ efforts to resist the addictive elixir are tested when a mercenary force invades Slime City.”
B-Movie fans have a lot to get excited about with Slime City Massacre. It’s equal parts sensual and subversive, offering up a dose of sex and violence that’s likely not to be forgotten soon. (Seriously, this has some of the gooiest sex without body fluids probably captured on film.) Though I found the narrative to kinda/sorta veer off the tracks a bit in the second half – with far too many developments getting too little screen time – it was still the kind of homegrown cinematic shlock true film nerds and bargain basement Horror fans have been happily discovering since the dawn of Beta and VHS. Honestly, we just don’t see enough of this stuff these days, and that’s a sad testament of our times.
Cory (played by Kealan Patrick Burke) and Alexa (Jennifer Bihl) are survivors who’ve spent their time squatting from one place to the next in Slime City. As fate would have it, they happen across a run-down building that finally offers them a bit of security, only to discover that it’s already been claimed by Mason (Lee Perkins) and Alice (the fabulous Debbie Rochon). After a tense exchange, the four agree to terms to share the space, so long as everyone agrees to help out in foraging for supplies which have been growing increasingly scarce.
Before you know it (and perhaps a bit too conveniently, but this is a movie, after all), Cory and Mason stumble across a huge stash of unclaimed whiskey and bottled yogurt. Satisfied their troubles are over (at least temporarily), the two men haul a small supply of the goods back to their hideout, break open the stock, and a good time is had by all. Once their stomachs are full, it’s time for some carnal attraction … and this is where Slime City certainly begins to earn its name. Something in the hooch has each of the two couples soon oozing colorful slime from their pores. They become – for lack of a better phrase – almost lascivious Teletubbies, each with their own color scheme. Furthermore, they start experiencing some even darker desires, ones that can seemingly only be properly satiated through the spilling of blood, and this is a very deadly development for opportunists who’ve set their sights on the gentrification of their destroyed borough.
“Two fugitives seek refuge from a totalitarian government in the radioactive ruins of New York City seven years after a dirty bomb explosion. They join forces with a group of hardened survivors, and they discover a supply of a strange yogurt elixir. Soon the survivors mutate into ‘Slime Heads,’ murderous creatures possessed by the spirits of the dead. The mutants’ efforts to resist the addictive elixir are tested when a mercenary force invades Slime City.”
B-Movie fans have a lot to get excited about with Slime City Massacre. It’s equal parts sensual and subversive, offering up a dose of sex and violence that’s likely not to be forgotten soon. (Seriously, this has some of the gooiest sex without body fluids probably captured on film.) Though I found the narrative to kinda/sorta veer off the tracks a bit in the second half – with far too many developments getting too little screen time – it was still the kind of homegrown cinematic shlock true film nerds and bargain basement Horror fans have been happily discovering since the dawn of Beta and VHS. Honestly, we just don’t see enough of this stuff these days, and that’s a sad testament of our times.
Cory (played by Kealan Patrick Burke) and Alexa (Jennifer Bihl) are survivors who’ve spent their time squatting from one place to the next in Slime City. As fate would have it, they happen across a run-down building that finally offers them a bit of security, only to discover that it’s already been claimed by Mason (Lee Perkins) and Alice (the fabulous Debbie Rochon). After a tense exchange, the four agree to terms to share the space, so long as everyone agrees to help out in foraging for supplies which have been growing increasingly scarce.
Before you know it (and perhaps a bit too conveniently, but this is a movie, after all), Cory and Mason stumble across a huge stash of unclaimed whiskey and bottled yogurt. Satisfied their troubles are over (at least temporarily), the two men haul a small supply of the goods back to their hideout, break open the stock, and a good time is had by all. Once their stomachs are full, it’s time for some carnal attraction … and this is where Slime City certainly begins to earn its name. Something in the hooch has each of the two couples soon oozing colorful slime from their pores. They become – for lack of a better phrase – almost lascivious Teletubbies, each with their own color scheme. Furthermore, they start experiencing some even darker desires, ones that can seemingly only be properly satiated through the spilling of blood, and this is a very deadly development for opportunists who’ve set their sights on the gentrification of their destroyed borough.
Simultaneously, Slime City develops another plotline, this one rendered in black-and-white. Nicole (the stunning Brooke Lewis Bellas) is rescued from a life on the streets by a small urban cult involving a kinda/sorta fetishistic worship of the human flesh, and it just so happens that her savior Zachary (Craig Sabin) is the alchemical mastermind behind the bottled goods found wreaking havoc in the future. While precisely where and what these concoctions were meant to be used for is a bit elusive, there’s just enough groundwork laid to spell out mixing them together is not a good thing, spelling certain doom for Cory, Mason, and company. Nicole and Zachary’s vignettes are spaced out throughout the picture, and they largely either mirror or provide greater context to what’s taking place in movie time.
While some of that might sound a bit confusing, it makes perfect sense (or as much as is necessary) to give this Massacre its broader perspective. Suffice it to say there’s an awful lot more that occurs, and some of it doesn’t quite get the level of explanation I felt it deserved. For example, the slime seemingly effects people differently: Alice spends a chunk of the film reduced to little more than a head floating in a bathtub full of orange goo (even has sex that way, if you can believe that!), only to eventually re-emerge as a full-bodied woman … with an added vertical mouth slit where her sternum should be! Though this late-breaking twist made little sense, that didn’t stop Lamberson from putting this new set of chompers to good use. (This is a Horror film, after all.)
Honestly, I think what impressed me most about Massacre was its ambitiousness.
While others who dissect films (like I do) might take time and space to quibble over the usual gripes associated with reviewing low-budget productions, I’ll admit that Lamberson’s film kept pushing forever onward. Like the little engine that could, this one got a head a steam after its set-up and kept churning and churning and churning for even more. Some of its twists and turns might’ve missed the grounding they deserved, but the storyteller and his cast of characters kept everything flowing at a clip wherein the action never bogged down or the weaknesses of a performance here or there got in the way. Rather, everyone involved pushed through to the big finish – one complete with more gray matter (Pink? Blue? Orange?) than studio productions ever attempt.
Their loss is fandom’s gain.
While some of that might sound a bit confusing, it makes perfect sense (or as much as is necessary) to give this Massacre its broader perspective. Suffice it to say there’s an awful lot more that occurs, and some of it doesn’t quite get the level of explanation I felt it deserved. For example, the slime seemingly effects people differently: Alice spends a chunk of the film reduced to little more than a head floating in a bathtub full of orange goo (even has sex that way, if you can believe that!), only to eventually re-emerge as a full-bodied woman … with an added vertical mouth slit where her sternum should be! Though this late-breaking twist made little sense, that didn’t stop Lamberson from putting this new set of chompers to good use. (This is a Horror film, after all.)
Honestly, I think what impressed me most about Massacre was its ambitiousness.
While others who dissect films (like I do) might take time and space to quibble over the usual gripes associated with reviewing low-budget productions, I’ll admit that Lamberson’s film kept pushing forever onward. Like the little engine that could, this one got a head a steam after its set-up and kept churning and churning and churning for even more. Some of its twists and turns might’ve missed the grounding they deserved, but the storyteller and his cast of characters kept everything flowing at a clip wherein the action never bogged down or the weaknesses of a performance here or there got in the way. Rather, everyone involved pushed through to the big finish – one complete with more gray matter (Pink? Blue? Orange?) than studio productions ever attempt.
Their loss is fandom’s gain.
Lastly, I’d be remiss in my duties as editor-in-chief if I failed to mention Massacre’s accolades. At the 2010 B-Movie Film Festival (held in New York), actress Brooke Lewis Bellas took home top honors in the category of ‘Best Actress.’ At the 2010 Eerie Horror Fest (held in northwestern Pennsylvania), actress Debbie Rochon was awarded the trophy in the category of ‘Best Actress.’ And for the 2010 PollyGrind Underground Film Festival Of Las Vegas, director Lamberson absconded with the coveted ‘Grand Jury Prize’ when he was proclaimed the ‘Biggest Baddest Mother of the PollyGrind.’ Congratulations all around for a job well done!
Slime City Massacre (2010) was produced by Slaughtered Lamb Productions and Medallion Movies. DVD distribution (for this particular release) was coordinated via the good people at Media Blasters. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights and sounds to this release were very good consistently; in a few sequences, the musical tracking was a bit louder than was necessary, but that’s chump change in the overall experience. As for the special features? Wow! This 2-disc set includes an audio commentary from the cast and crew; a ninety-minute behind-the-scenes production documentary; a small handful of making-of shorts; bloopers; production stills; and the theatrical trailer. It’s a fabulous collection for folks who like to spend some time with this sort of thing.
Recommended, but with the following caveat …
As I always caution readers, independent film – most especially Indie Horror – certainly isn’t everyone’s cup of tea (or is that blood?). Often times, these flicks do not have the kind of budget required to bring top-tier practical and visual effects technicians to work on them … but I’ve found in many cases that less-is-more, especially if the supporting story and players give it their all. Slime City Massacre – in total – needed a bit stronger script in the second half to more fully service the solid foundation of the first if it wanted to deliver the total package. The finale is filled with some narrative shorthand in a few places – developments aren’t as clearly spelled out, leaving some of these changes appearing more ‘magical’ than they were organic … but I still had more fun with this than probably most. Why? Well, I appreciate efforts wherein everyone’s heart was up there in the lights. And once I saw those disembodied brains crawling across the warehouse floor? I knew I was in the right place.
In the interests of fairness, I was provided a complimentary Special Edition DVD of Slime City Massacre (2010) by an adoring fan of SciFiHistory.Net under no pre-condition to produce a review; and the contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Slime City Massacre (2010) was produced by Slaughtered Lamb Productions and Medallion Movies. DVD distribution (for this particular release) was coordinated via the good people at Media Blasters. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights and sounds to this release were very good consistently; in a few sequences, the musical tracking was a bit louder than was necessary, but that’s chump change in the overall experience. As for the special features? Wow! This 2-disc set includes an audio commentary from the cast and crew; a ninety-minute behind-the-scenes production documentary; a small handful of making-of shorts; bloopers; production stills; and the theatrical trailer. It’s a fabulous collection for folks who like to spend some time with this sort of thing.
Recommended, but with the following caveat …
As I always caution readers, independent film – most especially Indie Horror – certainly isn’t everyone’s cup of tea (or is that blood?). Often times, these flicks do not have the kind of budget required to bring top-tier practical and visual effects technicians to work on them … but I’ve found in many cases that less-is-more, especially if the supporting story and players give it their all. Slime City Massacre – in total – needed a bit stronger script in the second half to more fully service the solid foundation of the first if it wanted to deliver the total package. The finale is filled with some narrative shorthand in a few places – developments aren’t as clearly spelled out, leaving some of these changes appearing more ‘magical’ than they were organic … but I still had more fun with this than probably most. Why? Well, I appreciate efforts wherein everyone’s heart was up there in the lights. And once I saw those disembodied brains crawling across the warehouse floor? I knew I was in the right place.
In the interests of fairness, I was provided a complimentary Special Edition DVD of Slime City Massacre (2010) by an adoring fan of SciFiHistory.Net under no pre-condition to produce a review; and the contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
It goes without saying – though I am about to say it, for the record – that perhaps the entire Game Of Thrones franchise has become a property that’s kinda/sorta hard to love.
Like so, so many, I was there when this serialized adaptation began on HBO: the pay cable channel began all the way back in 2011, bringing to bold visual life the George R.R. Martin Fantasy saga for television audiences. Over eight fun-filled seasons, viewers got to know a bit about the Seven Kingdoms, serving witness to some of the best battles – both physically and emotionally – brought about by the families and factions within this multi-layered universe. At times, it played the stakes very simply – serving up little more than an old-fashioned good vs evil story (but with a little incestual rape thrown in for discerning watchers) – but I always felt the writers even wanted the little moments to be grander. Such is the nature of mythmaking, and they probably got it right more often than they got it wrong.
“The Black Queen” – the tenth and final episode in House Of The Dragon’s inaugural season (the first in what has been promised to be an almost endless series of sequels and prequels) – has finally aired officially. Yes, I followed some breaking news over the weekend about how it was illegally leaked online early; despite what the official word from HBO has been, I’m inclined to believe that was a media stunt mean to hype up the season finale because that’s exactly the kind of thing companies do to create news from the – ahem – un-newsworthy. (Is that a word?) I don’t think Dragon has had anywhere near the darling press its predecessor received, and I think this likely has its showrunners a bit perplexed.
In any event …
As is my custom, I try to spend very little time rehashing plot points as I think that stuff gets done to death these days. I will say that “The Black Queen” was probably one of the season’s better scripted hours, which is a very good sign for the direction of the series.
Unlike other episodes, this one had a very clear through-line – one that made perfect sense each and every step of the way – and, while one may’ve disagreed with a royal decision here and there, it was still made in the best interest of the crown. Perhaps now that all hell is broken loose, the screenwriters can finally get about the business of crafting more coherent and spirited hours within these Fantasy kingdoms. Given the fact that they also – in unison with the behind-the-scenes technical wizards – delivered as much spectacle as they did substance, maybe audiences can assume the show to finally be about something; so much of this first season (which I’ll likely review in a separate piece later this week) felt like it was either floundering for direction or waiting for some seminal piece of fictional history to occur … and I think we’ve found that with one character’s big demise.
Like so, so many, I was there when this serialized adaptation began on HBO: the pay cable channel began all the way back in 2011, bringing to bold visual life the George R.R. Martin Fantasy saga for television audiences. Over eight fun-filled seasons, viewers got to know a bit about the Seven Kingdoms, serving witness to some of the best battles – both physically and emotionally – brought about by the families and factions within this multi-layered universe. At times, it played the stakes very simply – serving up little more than an old-fashioned good vs evil story (but with a little incestual rape thrown in for discerning watchers) – but I always felt the writers even wanted the little moments to be grander. Such is the nature of mythmaking, and they probably got it right more often than they got it wrong.
“The Black Queen” – the tenth and final episode in House Of The Dragon’s inaugural season (the first in what has been promised to be an almost endless series of sequels and prequels) – has finally aired officially. Yes, I followed some breaking news over the weekend about how it was illegally leaked online early; despite what the official word from HBO has been, I’m inclined to believe that was a media stunt mean to hype up the season finale because that’s exactly the kind of thing companies do to create news from the – ahem – un-newsworthy. (Is that a word?) I don’t think Dragon has had anywhere near the darling press its predecessor received, and I think this likely has its showrunners a bit perplexed.
In any event …
As is my custom, I try to spend very little time rehashing plot points as I think that stuff gets done to death these days. I will say that “The Black Queen” was probably one of the season’s better scripted hours, which is a very good sign for the direction of the series.
Unlike other episodes, this one had a very clear through-line – one that made perfect sense each and every step of the way – and, while one may’ve disagreed with a royal decision here and there, it was still made in the best interest of the crown. Perhaps now that all hell is broken loose, the screenwriters can finally get about the business of crafting more coherent and spirited hours within these Fantasy kingdoms. Given the fact that they also – in unison with the behind-the-scenes technical wizards – delivered as much spectacle as they did substance, maybe audiences can assume the show to finally be about something; so much of this first season (which I’ll likely review in a separate piece later this week) felt like it was either floundering for direction or waiting for some seminal piece of fictional history to occur … and I think we’ve found that with one character’s big demise.
Again, I think it’s safe to say that Dragon was and probably is going to be about little more than war. From the show’s first moments, it always looked like tensions were bound to come to a head. At face value, so much of this first season was about place setting – where we are, who these players are going to be, where they folks may just be heading, etc. Once those obligatory events have been dispensed, the Targaryen family can now truly get down to the matter at hand … namely trying to put the true heir to the Seven Kingdoms on the Iron Throne, which is the biggest part and parcel of this season finale’s plot.
Also, I’d be remiss in my duties as critic if I failed to mention that the undercurrent to “The Black Queen” was easily identified: happy accidents – or ‘unhappy ones’ is a better descriptor – are the true shakers and makers of this whole, regal affair.
Rhaenyra never asked to rule; it was somewhat ‘gifted’ to her by a happy father. Likewise, most other kingly and queenly players in all of Martin’s world never quite sought power; and those who have wanted it continually seem to be repeatedly denied it. (Here’s looking at you, Daemon.) While each person – male or female – ascending to their respective throne might ultimately have a reason to embrace it – for good or bad – it’s very clear that there are weights and consequences to being in the ruling class … and those factors will extract a heavy, heavy toll in exchange for making these tough, life-altering decisions.
Alas, the greatest weakness to this season finale is that we spent time with characters that, sadly, we never quite got to know so well that their demise ends up feeling less meaningful. (No, I won’t spoil it, but I think it was a bit predictable.) Had the writers crafted a bit more for a few of these smilers, then their existence – and the end of it – would’ve had greater impact on audiences. Yet in a world wherein the movers and shakers only appear interested in shifting the various pieces about on their respective chessboards, I guess it’s perfectly appropriate. Don’t get attached to that rook or that pawn or this queen because, inevitably, your opponent is going to snatch it away from you when you’re not looking.
The king is dead.
Long live the Queen.
And she looks pissed.
-- EZ
Also, I’d be remiss in my duties as critic if I failed to mention that the undercurrent to “The Black Queen” was easily identified: happy accidents – or ‘unhappy ones’ is a better descriptor – are the true shakers and makers of this whole, regal affair.
Rhaenyra never asked to rule; it was somewhat ‘gifted’ to her by a happy father. Likewise, most other kingly and queenly players in all of Martin’s world never quite sought power; and those who have wanted it continually seem to be repeatedly denied it. (Here’s looking at you, Daemon.) While each person – male or female – ascending to their respective throne might ultimately have a reason to embrace it – for good or bad – it’s very clear that there are weights and consequences to being in the ruling class … and those factors will extract a heavy, heavy toll in exchange for making these tough, life-altering decisions.
Alas, the greatest weakness to this season finale is that we spent time with characters that, sadly, we never quite got to know so well that their demise ends up feeling less meaningful. (No, I won’t spoil it, but I think it was a bit predictable.) Had the writers crafted a bit more for a few of these smilers, then their existence – and the end of it – would’ve had greater impact on audiences. Yet in a world wherein the movers and shakers only appear interested in shifting the various pieces about on their respective chessboards, I guess it’s perfectly appropriate. Don’t get attached to that rook or that pawn or this queen because, inevitably, your opponent is going to snatch it away from you when you’re not looking.
The king is dead.
Long live the Queen.
And she looks pissed.
-- EZ
- Published on
Horror flicks with a gimmick are really tough sells for me as a reviewer.
My issue with them tends to revolve around just how believable that gimmick is and gets explored over the course of the film. Freddy Krueger works because its foundation is not only solid but creative as well as the fact that the screen cast is put through a series of bloody misadventures consistent with the projected reality. The same thing could be said for Jason Voorhees and Michael Myers (in varying degrees), while intellectual properties like the Saw franchise and the Cube universe occasionally stray too far into developments and circumstances requiring a bit too expansive a suspension of disbelief. This doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy them – I do – but it does mean that I’ll likely draw the line and make them only a single-time-viewing as opposed to anything I might discover anew years later.
Furthermore, this highlights why I do tend to struggle with motion pictures centered on the more conventional slashers. The ‘fresh kills’ of these flicks do tend to find themselves rather easily in situations wherein they’re another notch in the killer’s belt, and even audiences over time have come to identify these ‘players’ too stupid to turn on the lights and foil the darkness required for the deed to be done. They’ll go out – alone, unarmed, maybe half-naked, practically inviting their own bloody destruction – when hunkering down is the best (and seemingly obvious) course of action. Either their ignorance or the disinterest of the screenwriter creating them is too big a flaw for me to overlook.
That’s why I had a rough time with Satan’s Little Helper (2004). Honestly, the film had a bit of the good with the bad, somehow managing to straddle that fine line a bit too closely for me. Though I loved its structure – that of a killer conducting his own hunts on Halloween with a bit of uncharacteristic assistance from a dubious fresh-faced Trick’or’Treater – it bit off more than it could chew from its confectionary center when a bit more dripping red stuff was really all that was needed.
(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 …)
My issue with them tends to revolve around just how believable that gimmick is and gets explored over the course of the film. Freddy Krueger works because its foundation is not only solid but creative as well as the fact that the screen cast is put through a series of bloody misadventures consistent with the projected reality. The same thing could be said for Jason Voorhees and Michael Myers (in varying degrees), while intellectual properties like the Saw franchise and the Cube universe occasionally stray too far into developments and circumstances requiring a bit too expansive a suspension of disbelief. This doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy them – I do – but it does mean that I’ll likely draw the line and make them only a single-time-viewing as opposed to anything I might discover anew years later.
Furthermore, this highlights why I do tend to struggle with motion pictures centered on the more conventional slashers. The ‘fresh kills’ of these flicks do tend to find themselves rather easily in situations wherein they’re another notch in the killer’s belt, and even audiences over time have come to identify these ‘players’ too stupid to turn on the lights and foil the darkness required for the deed to be done. They’ll go out – alone, unarmed, maybe half-naked, practically inviting their own bloody destruction – when hunkering down is the best (and seemingly obvious) course of action. Either their ignorance or the disinterest of the screenwriter creating them is too big a flaw for me to overlook.
That’s why I had a rough time with Satan’s Little Helper (2004). Honestly, the film had a bit of the good with the bad, somehow managing to straddle that fine line a bit too closely for me. Though I loved its structure – that of a killer conducting his own hunts on Halloween with a bit of uncharacteristic assistance from a dubious fresh-faced Trick’or’Treater – it bit off more than it could chew from its confectionary center when a bit more dripping red stuff was really all that was needed.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging:
“Nine-year-old Douglas Whooly is obsessed with the handheld video game ‘Satan’s Little Helper,’ and annoyed that the attention of his big sister Jenna is being distracted by her new boyfriend Alex. These two concerns collide on Halloween, when Douglas witnesses a serial killer in a devil mask posing his victims like outdoor All Hallow’s Eve displays. Not comprehending how real the carnage is, Douglas becomes this Satan’s little helper – and that’s very bad news for Alex, for Douglas and Jenna’s mom Merril, and ultimate for their entire town.”
One of Horror’s greatest challenges is to know when enough is enough, and Satan’s Little Helper is a prime example of why restraint should be more greatly exercised. While it’s largely a conventional slasher picture with a twist – i.e. disguising our evildoer as a rogue, mask-wearing cretin joining the kiddies out for their most important night on the town – writer/director Jeff Lieberman’s tale rather quickly chucks logic out the window in favor of presenting the unstoppable serial marauder who can be practically anywhere at once … or whenever the script requires.
In short, Satan Man – as he’s been dubbed by viewers – merely goes about knifing the innocent with wild abandon. In the build-up to his storied screen adventure, he’s shown situating the dead on their front lawns in displays more macabre than the last; and at this point I started wondering whether or not some of the passersby might take a bit more interest in what’s so obviously not decoration. Really? Are these folks – young and old alike – really that stupid? Or is this just the way the ball bounces? Before you know it, he’s been from one side of town to the other, killed a growing number of citizens, essentially disabled an entire police force, terrorized an adults-only shindig, taken a bullet through the hand (that’s cleared up entirely only a few scenes later), swapped out to another costume, and … what? He's just getting started?
Why, Jason Voorhees is blushing!
To a degree, viewers might be able to accept young Doug’s naivety. After all, he’s a kid. He’s only nine. He’s likely lived a somewhat sheltered life … but soon we’re expected to believe that all of these folks taking knives to the chest and stomach … why, they’re just playing along with Satan’s holiday pranks? Really? The whole town? Once Satan and Doug begin running down folks in the street via a ride in a wayward shopping cart it becomes clear that Doug’s got far more emotional problems than just an unhealthy addiction to video games: he’s completely bereft of reality! What serial killer wouldn’t be smitten with the little urchin? It’s a match made … in Hell!
Setting aside the narrative quibbles, Helper does benefit from some curious performances.
“Nine-year-old Douglas Whooly is obsessed with the handheld video game ‘Satan’s Little Helper,’ and annoyed that the attention of his big sister Jenna is being distracted by her new boyfriend Alex. These two concerns collide on Halloween, when Douglas witnesses a serial killer in a devil mask posing his victims like outdoor All Hallow’s Eve displays. Not comprehending how real the carnage is, Douglas becomes this Satan’s little helper – and that’s very bad news for Alex, for Douglas and Jenna’s mom Merril, and ultimate for their entire town.”
One of Horror’s greatest challenges is to know when enough is enough, and Satan’s Little Helper is a prime example of why restraint should be more greatly exercised. While it’s largely a conventional slasher picture with a twist – i.e. disguising our evildoer as a rogue, mask-wearing cretin joining the kiddies out for their most important night on the town – writer/director Jeff Lieberman’s tale rather quickly chucks logic out the window in favor of presenting the unstoppable serial marauder who can be practically anywhere at once … or whenever the script requires.
In short, Satan Man – as he’s been dubbed by viewers – merely goes about knifing the innocent with wild abandon. In the build-up to his storied screen adventure, he’s shown situating the dead on their front lawns in displays more macabre than the last; and at this point I started wondering whether or not some of the passersby might take a bit more interest in what’s so obviously not decoration. Really? Are these folks – young and old alike – really that stupid? Or is this just the way the ball bounces? Before you know it, he’s been from one side of town to the other, killed a growing number of citizens, essentially disabled an entire police force, terrorized an adults-only shindig, taken a bullet through the hand (that’s cleared up entirely only a few scenes later), swapped out to another costume, and … what? He's just getting started?
Why, Jason Voorhees is blushing!
To a degree, viewers might be able to accept young Doug’s naivety. After all, he’s a kid. He’s only nine. He’s likely lived a somewhat sheltered life … but soon we’re expected to believe that all of these folks taking knives to the chest and stomach … why, they’re just playing along with Satan’s holiday pranks? Really? The whole town? Once Satan and Doug begin running down folks in the street via a ride in a wayward shopping cart it becomes clear that Doug’s got far more emotional problems than just an unhealthy addiction to video games: he’s completely bereft of reality! What serial killer wouldn’t be smitten with the little urchin? It’s a match made … in Hell!
Setting aside the narrative quibbles, Helper does benefit from some curious performances.
Critical favorite Amanda Plummer gets good marks as the great American housewife who seems a bit too self-involved with her humdrum existence to notice the world bleeding out around her. There’s a quirkiness to her work here that might push boundaries as well – certainly none greater than those mentioned above – but it’s easy to set that aside once she’s roped (taped?) into serving as our killer’s escort to the local masked ball. A wild creation herself, she’s along for the ride even if it kills her. Also, the great Katheryn Winnick fills out both her pirate wench costume as well as the requirements as the closest thing to a heroine we’re ever likely to see in a Horror film. She’s smart when she needs to be, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to last. Once she recognizes the stakes raised by the killer on the prowl, she saddles up nicely into a leading performance, though she does (like most young women) succumb to her worst instincts in the film’s closing scene.
Curiously, Helper ends with the suggestion for a return visit to the wide, wide world of Satan Man shenanigans, but – to my knowledge – none ever developed. Thinking of this outing as an origins picture isn’t a bad way to endure it; and I suspect a follow-up might’ve been smarter as the business of clarifying the villain’s desires in this cinematic universe was well out of the way. As a one-off adventure? Meh. It’s all just a bit too formulaic in spots – especially those defying logic – so perhaps you can think of it as a ‘trick’ instead of a real ‘treat.’
Satan’s Little Helper (2004) was produced by Satan’s Little Company LLC and Intrinsic Value Films. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Synapse Films. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I will say that I found the sights and sounds to be quite good; there were a few sequences with some grain and a loss of focus, so much so that I wondered if perhaps these were once excised footage re-inserted into more of a director’s cut … but there’s no indication on the packaging of that. As for the special features? The disc boasts an audio commentary from writer/director Lieberman; some vintage behind-the-scenes content; a 30-minute making-of documentary; and a few other nice bits. It’s a solid collection for fans who like the extras. Well done.
Mildly recommended.
While Satan’s Little Helper is, at times, mildly interesting and occasionally clever – mainly because it has a good Horror/Comedy structure – I didn’t feel it rose anywhere near the level of a repeat performance. For me, it falls into that category of “a good first attempt, but it’ll likely be better in the remake.” Mostly, I chalk it up like that because there were too many moments where the characters’ collective stupidity was just too high for me to accept as authentic. (FYI: if you’re really that dumb, then maybe you deserve to be the next victim!) Still, some good performances do save it from being an entirely insipid affair.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Synapse Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray DVD of Satan’s Little Helper (2004) 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
Curiously, Helper ends with the suggestion for a return visit to the wide, wide world of Satan Man shenanigans, but – to my knowledge – none ever developed. Thinking of this outing as an origins picture isn’t a bad way to endure it; and I suspect a follow-up might’ve been smarter as the business of clarifying the villain’s desires in this cinematic universe was well out of the way. As a one-off adventure? Meh. It’s all just a bit too formulaic in spots – especially those defying logic – so perhaps you can think of it as a ‘trick’ instead of a real ‘treat.’
Satan’s Little Helper (2004) was produced by Satan’s Little Company LLC and Intrinsic Value Films. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Synapse Films. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I will say that I found the sights and sounds to be quite good; there were a few sequences with some grain and a loss of focus, so much so that I wondered if perhaps these were once excised footage re-inserted into more of a director’s cut … but there’s no indication on the packaging of that. As for the special features? The disc boasts an audio commentary from writer/director Lieberman; some vintage behind-the-scenes content; a 30-minute making-of documentary; and a few other nice bits. It’s a solid collection for fans who like the extras. Well done.
Mildly recommended.
While Satan’s Little Helper is, at times, mildly interesting and occasionally clever – mainly because it has a good Horror/Comedy structure – I didn’t feel it rose anywhere near the level of a repeat performance. For me, it falls into that category of “a good first attempt, but it’ll likely be better in the remake.” Mostly, I chalk it up like that because there were too many moments where the characters’ collective stupidity was just too high for me to accept as authentic. (FYI: if you’re really that dumb, then maybe you deserve to be the next victim!) Still, some good performances do save it from being an entirely insipid affair.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Synapse Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray DVD of Satan’s Little Helper (2004) 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
I have always been a fan of traditional monster movies, and I can tell you why rather easily: at their foundation, they’re always an exploration of the monster itself … the very thing that never asked to be brought into existence.
Understandably, it’s easy for me – as a viewer – to generate an appreciable amount of sympathy for the creature. Spawned usually from the mind of a mad man – or, in this case, a mad woman – the thing knows nothing of its history, its hunger, or its unique place in the however big or small this particular cinematic universe might be. It just knows that it is, and it acts out on the base impulses that are part and parcel of its crooked or bastardized DNA. Lastly, it never intended to be evil. Hell, it likely has little to no concept of what good and evil are; instead, it lives each day in pursuit of filling whatever void science has left in its mortal and immortal soul.
So, yes, I can perfectly accept how an overlook little film from the late 1980’s like The Kindred might very well have found its own place in this world. It has all of the usual trappings fans of such frights desire, and it serves them up at a rate that will likely keep the interest of even newcomers who stumble across it on cable or for purchase. Though it still might miss the mark that would make it a truly successful creature feature, I believe it’s close enough for me to give it a mild thumbs up. Its practical effects alone are quite good, and – if you can overlook too many understated performances – you just might shriek at its respectable finish.
(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 product packaging:
“Kim Hunter is Dr. Amanda Hollins, a molecular scientist who calls on her son to eliminate all evidence of her genetic experiments … most specifically her ‘Anthony Journals.’ Dr. Philip Lloyd, an acquaintance of Hollins who is familiar with her experiments, wants to continue her studies no matter the cost! John heads to his isolated childhood home with a group of friends to uncover his mother’s research and destroy it all …”
There’s a bit more, but I’ll leave at that as I believe that’s enough to properly frame the narrative. Suffice it to say, The Kindred is little more – at heart – than a monster movie, one complete with its own Frankenstein and creator, and it functions perfectly fine on that level. It may not offer anything new to the genre, and it may not deliver all of its developments with logical acumen, but it works … and sometimes that’s the best that can be said about some dated theatrical experiences.
Understandably, it’s easy for me – as a viewer – to generate an appreciable amount of sympathy for the creature. Spawned usually from the mind of a mad man – or, in this case, a mad woman – the thing knows nothing of its history, its hunger, or its unique place in the however big or small this particular cinematic universe might be. It just knows that it is, and it acts out on the base impulses that are part and parcel of its crooked or bastardized DNA. Lastly, it never intended to be evil. Hell, it likely has little to no concept of what good and evil are; instead, it lives each day in pursuit of filling whatever void science has left in its mortal and immortal soul.
So, yes, I can perfectly accept how an overlook little film from the late 1980’s like The Kindred might very well have found its own place in this world. It has all of the usual trappings fans of such frights desire, and it serves them up at a rate that will likely keep the interest of even newcomers who stumble across it on cable or for purchase. Though it still might miss the mark that would make it a truly successful creature feature, I believe it’s close enough for me to give it a mild thumbs up. Its practical effects alone are quite good, and – if you can overlook too many understated performances – you just might shriek at its respectable finish.
(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 product packaging:
“Kim Hunter is Dr. Amanda Hollins, a molecular scientist who calls on her son to eliminate all evidence of her genetic experiments … most specifically her ‘Anthony Journals.’ Dr. Philip Lloyd, an acquaintance of Hollins who is familiar with her experiments, wants to continue her studies no matter the cost! John heads to his isolated childhood home with a group of friends to uncover his mother’s research and destroy it all …”
There’s a bit more, but I’ll leave at that as I believe that’s enough to properly frame the narrative. Suffice it to say, The Kindred is little more – at heart – than a monster movie, one complete with its own Frankenstein and creator, and it functions perfectly fine on that level. It may not offer anything new to the genre, and it may not deliver all of its developments with logical acumen, but it works … and sometimes that’s the best that can be said about some dated theatrical experiences.
Because Jeffrey Obrow and Stephen Carpenter’s Horror film truly centers its on monster mythos, it’s probably been affectionately embraced by the genre’s more ardent fans, although largely overlooked by the casual contingent. Most of this is likely owed to the fact that, even though the production has some Hollywood heavyweights like Kim Hunter and Rod Steiger in it, the flick feels far too often like a middle-of-the-road television idea that somehow got elevated to the silver screen. David Allen Brooks – as the lead, Dr. John Hollins – is a far too reserved in how he approaches everything in his life, be it nurturing his relationship with longtime girlfriend Sharon Raymond (Talia Balsam) or going toe-to-toe with the goo-covered behemoth living under his mother’s cavernous back porch. He shows little passion at every turn – as do a lot of the secondary players – and one might suspect just how such lethargy existed on a set supposedly weighed down with creatures.
Though much of Steiger’s work might be chalked up to the obligatory ‘mad scientist’ role, the actor certainly delivered the right amount of megalomaniacal angst. His Dr. Philip Lloyd didn’t so much as bat an eye at the prospect of surrendering a probable whistleblower to the demons living beneath his corporate offices of Geneticell. Perhaps a bit more scene chewing by the rest of the cast could’ve elevated this one through its duller moments? The reliable Peter Frechette hits some good notes of panic and abject terror as one of Hollins’ gang of brainiacs; and yet Balsam, Timothy Gibbs, Julia Montgomery, and Bunky Jones are largely wasted in what feels like coasting on fumes while waiting for the monster to show up. They might have a good bit here and there, true, but it needed a bit more ‘umph’ to sell the sizzle when this weekender-cabin-like home stood in for what really needed to be a Frankenstein castle.
Also, The Kindred boasts an early performance by the usually reliable genre favorite Amanda Pays. In it, she plays scientists Melissa Leftridge, a woman with a shadowy past that might just be the critical link toward Hollins coming to grips with just what wicked medicine is now deceased mother was practicing out in the sticks. Though I thought Pays handled herself well through some of the script’s meatier moments (there’s an incredible transformation sequence wherein the actress morphs from woman to – ahem – fish), she spends far too much of the time on ‘pause’ like the rest of the cast. It’s almost as if everyone assembled were honestly waiting for the creature to show up so they could be in a Horror movie; too many smaller segways just needed a bit more something.
Monster movies must function on efficiency.
There has to be highs – or the lows mean nothing – but the lows can’t be sacrificed as merely narrative filler at the expense of waiting for the visual payoff. A glance at IMDB.com tells me that the script worked through a lot of hands here, and I can’t help but wonder if something was lost with each iteration. Each new draft may’ve trimmed some of the substance that sparked the initial fire, putting in its place lesser moments that served to give additional screen time to things other than Anthony, the name of the fateful creature. What matters most in monster movies is and always will be the monster: in that regard, at least The Kindred got something right … I just wish it could’ve done that more consistently across its 90+ minutes.
Though much of Steiger’s work might be chalked up to the obligatory ‘mad scientist’ role, the actor certainly delivered the right amount of megalomaniacal angst. His Dr. Philip Lloyd didn’t so much as bat an eye at the prospect of surrendering a probable whistleblower to the demons living beneath his corporate offices of Geneticell. Perhaps a bit more scene chewing by the rest of the cast could’ve elevated this one through its duller moments? The reliable Peter Frechette hits some good notes of panic and abject terror as one of Hollins’ gang of brainiacs; and yet Balsam, Timothy Gibbs, Julia Montgomery, and Bunky Jones are largely wasted in what feels like coasting on fumes while waiting for the monster to show up. They might have a good bit here and there, true, but it needed a bit more ‘umph’ to sell the sizzle when this weekender-cabin-like home stood in for what really needed to be a Frankenstein castle.
Also, The Kindred boasts an early performance by the usually reliable genre favorite Amanda Pays. In it, she plays scientists Melissa Leftridge, a woman with a shadowy past that might just be the critical link toward Hollins coming to grips with just what wicked medicine is now deceased mother was practicing out in the sticks. Though I thought Pays handled herself well through some of the script’s meatier moments (there’s an incredible transformation sequence wherein the actress morphs from woman to – ahem – fish), she spends far too much of the time on ‘pause’ like the rest of the cast. It’s almost as if everyone assembled were honestly waiting for the creature to show up so they could be in a Horror movie; too many smaller segways just needed a bit more something.
Monster movies must function on efficiency.
There has to be highs – or the lows mean nothing – but the lows can’t be sacrificed as merely narrative filler at the expense of waiting for the visual payoff. A glance at IMDB.com tells me that the script worked through a lot of hands here, and I can’t help but wonder if something was lost with each iteration. Each new draft may’ve trimmed some of the substance that sparked the initial fire, putting in its place lesser moments that served to give additional screen time to things other than Anthony, the name of the fateful creature. What matters most in monster movies is and always will be the monster: in that regard, at least The Kindred got something right … I just wish it could’ve done that more consistently across its 90+ minutes.
Lastly, I’d be remiss in my duties as editor-in-chief for SciFiHistory.Net if I failed to mention that the picture enjoyed its 35th anniversary in 2022, making this new release certainly one well-intended for fans of it. With an all-new restoration on the disc as well as a newly produced documentary that features a few of the faces from the screen and a good amount of information from folks who made all of it possible behind, I suspect the release will do very well with those who follow film favorites throughout the ages.
The Kindred (1987) was produced by Kindred Limited Partnership. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Synapse Films. As for the technical specifications? The packaging boasts that this is an all-new 4K high-definition remaster of an unrated version of the feature film; while I’m not trained video expert, I thought the accompanying sights and sounds were probably as glorious as could be. (A few dark sequences have a bit of grain, but honestly I think that’s to be expected with some efforts.)
Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then buckle up! According to the advertising insert, this release includes:
Recommended.
Because I’ve always been a fan of traditional monster movies, I probably appreciate an otherwise forgettable flick like The Kindred (1987) a bit more than most. The performances – while nothing special and maybe even a bit comical by today’s standards – aren’t all that grand. The setting, situation, and developing circumstances work only if you don’t practice any kind of intellectual ‘digging’ into them. Setting those quibbles aside, I still would’ve liked to spend more time with the picture’s central monsters. Having a fondness for what’s been achieved with practical effects and creature production, I just thought I saw too little on them in these trim 93 minutes.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Synapse Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Kindred (1987) 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 Kindred (1987) was produced by Kindred Limited Partnership. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Synapse Films. As for the technical specifications? The packaging boasts that this is an all-new 4K high-definition remaster of an unrated version of the feature film; while I’m not trained video expert, I thought the accompanying sights and sounds were probably as glorious as could be. (A few dark sequences have a bit of grain, but honestly I think that’s to be expected with some efforts.)
Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then buckle up! According to the advertising insert, this release includes:
- A new 5.1 English stereo surround remix (along with the original 2.0 mono);
- An audio commentary with directors Obrow and Carpenter;
- An all-new documentary on the making-of the picture (it runs about 50 minutes, and it’s very balanced between behind-the-scenes folks as well as onscreen talent);
- A compilation of creature effects from Michael McCracken, Jr’s work;
- Stills gallery;
- Original storyboards;
- The original theatrical trailer; and
- The promotional TV spots.
Recommended.
Because I’ve always been a fan of traditional monster movies, I probably appreciate an otherwise forgettable flick like The Kindred (1987) a bit more than most. The performances – while nothing special and maybe even a bit comical by today’s standards – aren’t all that grand. The setting, situation, and developing circumstances work only if you don’t practice any kind of intellectual ‘digging’ into them. Setting those quibbles aside, I still would’ve liked to spend more time with the picture’s central monsters. Having a fondness for what’s been achieved with practical effects and creature production, I just thought I saw too little on them in these trim 93 minutes.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Synapse Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Kindred (1987) 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
Total disclosure: I’ve had an ongoing love/hate relationship with the films of John Carpenter.
I know, I know, I know. How can you be in any kind of a negative relationship with a man who’s better known as ‘The Horror Master,’ am I right? Honestly, I don’t always understand it myself. When I do take the time to mull it all over, I usually come back with this bottom-line clarification: I think he explores some incredible subject matter, I think he’s a genius with the camera, but I’ve often found the end results uneven, at best. When all is said and done, I struggle to pull some original thoughts from the experience, so I do tend to avoid speaking up (or writing about) on any of his projects until I’ve had ample time to cogitate the point of it all.
For example, I’ve long said that I don’t understand all the love he’s received throughout the years for The Thing (1982). (Take a breath, people, just TAKE A BREATH!) While I don’t dislike the film, I certainly don’t think it’s his best work. Yes, yes, yes, the practical effects are legendary, but you do know he didn’t do those himself, right? Of course, the craftsmen deserve the lion’s share of that credit, and I’m willing to let him bask in their glory (with respect), but the story is far too sedate for my liking. Again, there’s nothing wrong with it: I just don’t see it as his crowning achievement.
And – for that matter – neither is The Fog (1980).
From what I’m aware, he made this following his real breakout theatrical feature (1978’s Halloween, a picture that practically to this day still defines conventional slasher pictures); and, in some ways, I think it demonstrates the good and the bad in finding success in Hollywood. While one could argue that Halloween owes its triumph to its grim and trim intensity, The Fog by comparison seems like an attempt to shift the focus more toward what a mainstream audience might desire. It has some big names in it, as well, and though I can appreciate what a name talent might bring to the property it also kinda/sorta pushes much more toward a studio effort (as opposed to Carpenter employing some guerilla-style filmmaking in his earlier days). A bigger budget also means easier access to more glittery effects, and I think in some ways that cheapens the scare factor when you make a project more about its technical accomplishments than focusing on bringing frights to life.
(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 citations:
“An unearthly fog rolls into a small coastal town exactly 100 years after a ship mysteriously sank in its waters.”
The beauty of setting any Horror property in what’s advertised to be a ‘small town’ of any type is that you pretty much have signaled one truth to your audience right out of the gate: somehow – and in some way – the locals at some point are going to have been involved in some wrongdoing. More than likely, it’s been covered up – maybe forgotten except for a fateful few – and before all of the blood is spilled so will, too, be the secrets that invariably set all of this affair into motion.
I know, I know, I know. How can you be in any kind of a negative relationship with a man who’s better known as ‘The Horror Master,’ am I right? Honestly, I don’t always understand it myself. When I do take the time to mull it all over, I usually come back with this bottom-line clarification: I think he explores some incredible subject matter, I think he’s a genius with the camera, but I’ve often found the end results uneven, at best. When all is said and done, I struggle to pull some original thoughts from the experience, so I do tend to avoid speaking up (or writing about) on any of his projects until I’ve had ample time to cogitate the point of it all.
For example, I’ve long said that I don’t understand all the love he’s received throughout the years for The Thing (1982). (Take a breath, people, just TAKE A BREATH!) While I don’t dislike the film, I certainly don’t think it’s his best work. Yes, yes, yes, the practical effects are legendary, but you do know he didn’t do those himself, right? Of course, the craftsmen deserve the lion’s share of that credit, and I’m willing to let him bask in their glory (with respect), but the story is far too sedate for my liking. Again, there’s nothing wrong with it: I just don’t see it as his crowning achievement.
And – for that matter – neither is The Fog (1980).
From what I’m aware, he made this following his real breakout theatrical feature (1978’s Halloween, a picture that practically to this day still defines conventional slasher pictures); and, in some ways, I think it demonstrates the good and the bad in finding success in Hollywood. While one could argue that Halloween owes its triumph to its grim and trim intensity, The Fog by comparison seems like an attempt to shift the focus more toward what a mainstream audience might desire. It has some big names in it, as well, and though I can appreciate what a name talent might bring to the property it also kinda/sorta pushes much more toward a studio effort (as opposed to Carpenter employing some guerilla-style filmmaking in his earlier days). A bigger budget also means easier access to more glittery effects, and I think in some ways that cheapens the scare factor when you make a project more about its technical accomplishments than focusing on bringing frights to life.
(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 citations:
“An unearthly fog rolls into a small coastal town exactly 100 years after a ship mysteriously sank in its waters.”
The beauty of setting any Horror property in what’s advertised to be a ‘small town’ of any type is that you pretty much have signaled one truth to your audience right out of the gate: somehow – and in some way – the locals at some point are going to have been involved in some wrongdoing. More than likely, it’s been covered up – maybe forgotten except for a fateful few – and before all of the blood is spilled so will, too, be the secrets that invariably set all of this affair into motion.
So The Fog – as conceived by director Carpenter and his creative partner Debra Hill – really offers up no spectacular surprise in filling that portion of the bill. The duo may posit an unusual discovery of this hidden background, but it’s still there. Waiting patiently. The way secrets do. Once it’s out, the supernatural power surrounding it cannot be denied; and the modern residents will likely have to expend a fair amount of time trying – in no uncertain terms – to put things right. That’s pretty much The Fog in a nutshell, as they say.
Given the fact that Carpenter never quite found his big screen success by ascribing to the predictable or formulaic (to a degree), I was aghast at just how much The Fog felt like a theatrical color-by-numbers production. Though not all of these predicaments were fully or even appreciably explained, I think it’s still fairly easy to see how all of these elements are going to fumble around in the murky light only to eventually come together in the last act. Why, there’s even a bit of a coda tagged on after what we’re led to believe was a winning finish, one that – like the big studios always do – hints that maybe – just maybe – things are far from over with the residents of Antonio Bay, California. Maybe the studio executives were unhappy with the happy ending? Stranger things have happened.
Setting aside some of my disillusionment with the entire film, I’ll still give props to what I think was a stellar and undeniably fabulous first half. Ignoring a few narrative quibbles, the set-up to so very much of The Fog’s circumstances is the stuff of legend, even bringing in crack acting Thespian John Houseman to ‘set the stage’ for the nightmare that’ll unfold before your very eyes. Telling a ghost story around the campfire, the august star makes the most of some simple passages; and perhaps that’s how director Carpenter approached this film. Maybe he thought he was reinventing cinema’s ghost story? Honestly, there’s ghost of a chance of that happening once this one winds down, leaving Houseman’s scenes the highlight from an otherwise low tide.
Once this sleepy little berg is overrun by the mist, all bets are off as to things making perfect sense.
There’s a nebulousness to the … erm … spirits? (Pun intended.) I guess that’s what you’d call them. These ghosts come and go only within the fog itself, and, at times, they’re far less a phantom and more like spooky men in dark clothing. While I’m a big believer that if you can do something practically you should, I think seeing less of these shadowy figures physically would’ve been a good thing. While some have said that Hitchcock ‘invented’ the creeping visuals, I’ve always thought that it was Carpenter who truly perfected it; and I’m guess that I’m honestly surprised how little he relied on that gift in The Fog’s second half. All of it was rendered just too literally – with little room for speculation – and I find things scarier the more I have to think about them. That doesn’t happen here, and I think that cheapens the thrill.
Lastly, the fog itself was often rendered on film as a special effect instead of with machinery, and – dare I report? – it was just awful. It looked like a cheap optical magic act, one anyone could see through. An obvious bit of visual trickery added in post, it served no purpose other than to pull me out of the carnival attraction, to remind me that you’re only sitting here watching a film of this ride so there’s no need to be frightened. Clearly, the crew had access to the technology of fog machines – they were used in a handful of the better scenes in here – and that was the better approach to weaving this tale. I understand that, perhaps, there are limitations in producing that effect on the scale required; so maybe some other sequences should’ve been envisioned to replace efforts to damn obvious. Who knows? Sometimes smaller is better … infinitely so.
The Fog (1980) was produced by AVCO Embassy Pictures, E.D.I., and Debra Hill Productions.
Mildly recommended.
A winning premise can only carry any project so far, and – that said – the first half of John Carpenter’s The Fog is dynamic. It’s an incredibly staged, well-conceived ghost story … but it all crashes in disbelief when obvious special effects negate the rising tension, leaving this boat to crash on the shore in its big finish. A great cast gets utterly wasted in a predictable finish, one that probably couldn’t have been salvaged even with a tighter edit.
-- EZ
Given the fact that Carpenter never quite found his big screen success by ascribing to the predictable or formulaic (to a degree), I was aghast at just how much The Fog felt like a theatrical color-by-numbers production. Though not all of these predicaments were fully or even appreciably explained, I think it’s still fairly easy to see how all of these elements are going to fumble around in the murky light only to eventually come together in the last act. Why, there’s even a bit of a coda tagged on after what we’re led to believe was a winning finish, one that – like the big studios always do – hints that maybe – just maybe – things are far from over with the residents of Antonio Bay, California. Maybe the studio executives were unhappy with the happy ending? Stranger things have happened.
Setting aside some of my disillusionment with the entire film, I’ll still give props to what I think was a stellar and undeniably fabulous first half. Ignoring a few narrative quibbles, the set-up to so very much of The Fog’s circumstances is the stuff of legend, even bringing in crack acting Thespian John Houseman to ‘set the stage’ for the nightmare that’ll unfold before your very eyes. Telling a ghost story around the campfire, the august star makes the most of some simple passages; and perhaps that’s how director Carpenter approached this film. Maybe he thought he was reinventing cinema’s ghost story? Honestly, there’s ghost of a chance of that happening once this one winds down, leaving Houseman’s scenes the highlight from an otherwise low tide.
Once this sleepy little berg is overrun by the mist, all bets are off as to things making perfect sense.
There’s a nebulousness to the … erm … spirits? (Pun intended.) I guess that’s what you’d call them. These ghosts come and go only within the fog itself, and, at times, they’re far less a phantom and more like spooky men in dark clothing. While I’m a big believer that if you can do something practically you should, I think seeing less of these shadowy figures physically would’ve been a good thing. While some have said that Hitchcock ‘invented’ the creeping visuals, I’ve always thought that it was Carpenter who truly perfected it; and I’m guess that I’m honestly surprised how little he relied on that gift in The Fog’s second half. All of it was rendered just too literally – with little room for speculation – and I find things scarier the more I have to think about them. That doesn’t happen here, and I think that cheapens the thrill.
Lastly, the fog itself was often rendered on film as a special effect instead of with machinery, and – dare I report? – it was just awful. It looked like a cheap optical magic act, one anyone could see through. An obvious bit of visual trickery added in post, it served no purpose other than to pull me out of the carnival attraction, to remind me that you’re only sitting here watching a film of this ride so there’s no need to be frightened. Clearly, the crew had access to the technology of fog machines – they were used in a handful of the better scenes in here – and that was the better approach to weaving this tale. I understand that, perhaps, there are limitations in producing that effect on the scale required; so maybe some other sequences should’ve been envisioned to replace efforts to damn obvious. Who knows? Sometimes smaller is better … infinitely so.
The Fog (1980) was produced by AVCO Embassy Pictures, E.D.I., and Debra Hill Productions.
Mildly recommended.
A winning premise can only carry any project so far, and – that said – the first half of John Carpenter’s The Fog is dynamic. It’s an incredibly staged, well-conceived ghost story … but it all crashes in disbelief when obvious special effects negate the rising tension, leaving this boat to crash on the shore in its big finish. A great cast gets utterly wasted in a predictable finish, one that probably couldn’t have been salvaged even with a tighter edit.
-- EZ
- Published on
1994’s No Escape is a film I had intended to see in theaters, but – for some reasons now lost to memory – I just never made it.
Star Ray Liotta was the big draw for me at the time. I was definitely interested in seeing how the decorated actor would fare in something that promised to be a bit more Science Fiction than anything I’d seen him in before. While the previews certainly smacked of a fair amount of testosterone as well, I recall thinking this one was likely going to play out as more akin to William Golding’s novel “Lord Of The Flies” than anything else, and even some of the reviews I read back in that day mirrored those sentiments. Good films often benefit from great associations, and perhaps that alone helped the flick achieve whatever positive marks it did.
As I said, I never caught it on the silver screen, but now I’ve been able to finally rectify that situation as I was offered to stream it in exchange for a review by a current distributor. This release coming not all that far on the heels of the sad death of actor Ray Liotta definitely brought this one back in the spotlight for me, and I’m glad to have finally caught it in its entirety. While it’s probably not a picture highly regarded by aficionados of Liotta’s catalogue, I’d argue that in no way, shape, or form did the talented player coast on his laurels here: under his stewardship of the role, this disgraced former soldier might even be in the best possible hands available at the time of his playing it. He’s equal parts ‘action hero,’ ‘social outcast,’ and ‘broken man’ hell bent on trying to put things right (at least, how he sees them being corrected), and I think he gave it his full, undivided attention.
Furthermore, No Escape is backed by an incredible cast, actors who have done great work then and even now, some who have gone on to even bigger pursuits. Chocked full of familiar faces and an occasionally breakneck pace of action, the film is a heady dose of adrenaline that also tries to incorporate the somewhat typical Hollywood bailiwick of exposing institutionalized corruption.
(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 …)
Star Ray Liotta was the big draw for me at the time. I was definitely interested in seeing how the decorated actor would fare in something that promised to be a bit more Science Fiction than anything I’d seen him in before. While the previews certainly smacked of a fair amount of testosterone as well, I recall thinking this one was likely going to play out as more akin to William Golding’s novel “Lord Of The Flies” than anything else, and even some of the reviews I read back in that day mirrored those sentiments. Good films often benefit from great associations, and perhaps that alone helped the flick achieve whatever positive marks it did.
As I said, I never caught it on the silver screen, but now I’ve been able to finally rectify that situation as I was offered to stream it in exchange for a review by a current distributor. This release coming not all that far on the heels of the sad death of actor Ray Liotta definitely brought this one back in the spotlight for me, and I’m glad to have finally caught it in its entirety. While it’s probably not a picture highly regarded by aficionados of Liotta’s catalogue, I’d argue that in no way, shape, or form did the talented player coast on his laurels here: under his stewardship of the role, this disgraced former soldier might even be in the best possible hands available at the time of his playing it. He’s equal parts ‘action hero,’ ‘social outcast,’ and ‘broken man’ hell bent on trying to put things right (at least, how he sees them being corrected), and I think he gave it his full, undivided attention.
Furthermore, No Escape is backed by an incredible cast, actors who have done great work then and even now, some who have gone on to even bigger pursuits. Chocked full of familiar faces and an occasionally breakneck pace of action, the film is a heady dose of adrenaline that also tries to incorporate the somewhat typical Hollywood bailiwick of exposing institutionalized corruption.
(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 soldier convicted for murdering his commanding officer is dumped and left to die on a prison island inhabited by two camps of convicts.”
In fairness to the Michael Gaylin and Joel Gross screenplay (adapted from Richard Herley’s novel, “The Penal Colony”), there is a bit more to No Escape’s plot, but – like the film – let’s just say this synopsis works efficiently as provided just enough of the premise. These characters are given “just enough” background for audiences to accept them as is. The prison society is also awarded “just enough” of an explanation for us to see it working. While I may’ve desired just a bit more depth in key places, the project still hits “just enough” of the right notes to make it a functioning, serviceable SciFi-lite thriller; any closer examination, and it might all fall apart, which would be a tremendous shame.
As it is, No Escape feels and works with B-Movie efficiency, though it brought aboard an impressive roster of A-Team talent. Ray Liotta – no stranger to critical acclaim at this point in his career – stars as disgraced and incarcerated Captain J.T. Robbins, a military officer with a dark secret haunting his otherwise impressive record and one that finds him cast out of civil society into the penal system. Genre regular Lance Henriksen plays the good-hearted ‘Father’ to the growing union of men convicted of crimes and yet trying to properly ‘start over’ behind bars on a prison island. Ghostbusters’ regular Ernie Hudson brings the character of Hawkins to life on the screen – a somewhat sergeant-at-arms to Henriksen’s Father. And the production was rounded out with some professional luminaries as Stuart Wilson, Kevin Dillon, Ian McNeice, and the recognizable Michael Lerner in key roles for good and for bad.
At its core, No Escape tries to perhaps be about a small handful of related subjects – justice, incarceration, freedom, and redemption – all of which revolve around a fundamental ‘good vs. evil’ construct within this depicted prison system. As tends to happen with this style of thriller, the structure is just as corrupt as any of its inmates – a favorite position of Hollywood screenwriters, indeed – so it’s only natural that bad men embrace their inner grace, rise up, throw off their shackles, and expose basically all of civilization as the vile institution it is. Sigh. Only in the movies do two wrongs almost always make a right. While it doesn’t end succinctly with the system being destroyed, it arguably suggests the warden and his minions are well on their way to the unemployment line.
“A soldier convicted for murdering his commanding officer is dumped and left to die on a prison island inhabited by two camps of convicts.”
In fairness to the Michael Gaylin and Joel Gross screenplay (adapted from Richard Herley’s novel, “The Penal Colony”), there is a bit more to No Escape’s plot, but – like the film – let’s just say this synopsis works efficiently as provided just enough of the premise. These characters are given “just enough” background for audiences to accept them as is. The prison society is also awarded “just enough” of an explanation for us to see it working. While I may’ve desired just a bit more depth in key places, the project still hits “just enough” of the right notes to make it a functioning, serviceable SciFi-lite thriller; any closer examination, and it might all fall apart, which would be a tremendous shame.
As it is, No Escape feels and works with B-Movie efficiency, though it brought aboard an impressive roster of A-Team talent. Ray Liotta – no stranger to critical acclaim at this point in his career – stars as disgraced and incarcerated Captain J.T. Robbins, a military officer with a dark secret haunting his otherwise impressive record and one that finds him cast out of civil society into the penal system. Genre regular Lance Henriksen plays the good-hearted ‘Father’ to the growing union of men convicted of crimes and yet trying to properly ‘start over’ behind bars on a prison island. Ghostbusters’ regular Ernie Hudson brings the character of Hawkins to life on the screen – a somewhat sergeant-at-arms to Henriksen’s Father. And the production was rounded out with some professional luminaries as Stuart Wilson, Kevin Dillon, Ian McNeice, and the recognizable Michael Lerner in key roles for good and for bad.
At its core, No Escape tries to perhaps be about a small handful of related subjects – justice, incarceration, freedom, and redemption – all of which revolve around a fundamental ‘good vs. evil’ construct within this depicted prison system. As tends to happen with this style of thriller, the structure is just as corrupt as any of its inmates – a favorite position of Hollywood screenwriters, indeed – so it’s only natural that bad men embrace their inner grace, rise up, throw off their shackles, and expose basically all of civilization as the vile institution it is. Sigh. Only in the movies do two wrongs almost always make a right. While it doesn’t end succinctly with the system being destroyed, it arguably suggests the warden and his minions are well on their way to the unemployment line.
Still, I’d be lying if I said I failed to enjoy No Escape because nothing could be further from the proof. It might be formulaic. It might strike predictable genre notes at every turn. It might be entirely fueled by an old school toxic masculinity in more than a few places. But it’s still about as efficient as it can be, most of which is owed to the expert direction of Martin Campbell. The award-winning director has served up such similar attractions with GoldenEye (1995), The Mask Of Zorro (1998), and Casino Royale (2006), all features that showcase how well-produced and occasionally glossy fare push through any narrative weaknesses to the delight of audiences. Though No Escape is arguably grittier than these mentioned counterparts, it still shines of Campbell’s excellent attention to detail, giving the story even a bit more heart to balance out some dire circumstances.
I’d be remiss in my duties if I failed to point out that even the Academy Of Science Fiction, Fantasy, And Horror Films thought similarly: in 1995, No Escape enjoyed a nomination in the category of ‘Best Science Fiction Film,’ an award that ultimately went to the glossier crowd-pleaser Stargate (which, in turn, launched one of Science Fiction’s biggest franchises). But on those merits alone, No Escape is definitely the kind of film that deserves a viewing for fans of genre properties if for no other reason than it boasts a helluva cast, some smart visuals, and some impressive though occasionally perfunctory action.
No Escape (1994) was produced by Columbia Pictures, Pacific Western, Platinum Pictures (III), and Allied Filmmakers. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by Unearthed Films (although, for clarity’s sake, I viewed this release via streaming). As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights and sounds for this film to be fantastic from start-to-finish.
Highly recommended.
In director Campbell’s hands, No Escape certainly delivered an action-packed and thoughtful flick – maybe too thoughtful, at times – giving some talented greats like Ray Liotta, Lance Henriksen, and Ernie Hudson a cult feature on the fringes of Science Fiction. While it may not have all the right moves to have secured box office gold, it certainly hits enough marks to be re-examined as of late (with Liotta’s passing) and maybe given the dose of respect both its characters wanted and methinks it deserves.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Unearthed Films provided me with complimentary streaming access to No Escape (1994) 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
I’d be remiss in my duties if I failed to point out that even the Academy Of Science Fiction, Fantasy, And Horror Films thought similarly: in 1995, No Escape enjoyed a nomination in the category of ‘Best Science Fiction Film,’ an award that ultimately went to the glossier crowd-pleaser Stargate (which, in turn, launched one of Science Fiction’s biggest franchises). But on those merits alone, No Escape is definitely the kind of film that deserves a viewing for fans of genre properties if for no other reason than it boasts a helluva cast, some smart visuals, and some impressive though occasionally perfunctory action.
No Escape (1994) was produced by Columbia Pictures, Pacific Western, Platinum Pictures (III), and Allied Filmmakers. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by Unearthed Films (although, for clarity’s sake, I viewed this release via streaming). As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights and sounds for this film to be fantastic from start-to-finish.
Highly recommended.
In director Campbell’s hands, No Escape certainly delivered an action-packed and thoughtful flick – maybe too thoughtful, at times – giving some talented greats like Ray Liotta, Lance Henriksen, and Ernie Hudson a cult feature on the fringes of Science Fiction. While it may not have all the right moves to have secured box office gold, it certainly hits enough marks to be re-examined as of late (with Liotta’s passing) and maybe given the dose of respect both its characters wanted and methinks it deserves.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Unearthed Films provided me with complimentary streaming access to No Escape (1994) 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
Frankly, I pretty much intended on avoiding penning a review for Walt Disney’s serialized Andor program … but, in some ways, I just can’t help myself.
Like so many who write about it, Star Wars means an awful lot to me personally. Yes, I was there – as a youngling the age of eleven – to see the very first motion picture when it launched theatrically back in 1977. As you can imagine, nostalgia practically beckons that I continue to stoke the flame lit over four and one-half decades ago; while it may not burn as brightly with some of these installments, I still felt impelled to sound off on “The Eye,” the fateful sixth part of its inaugural season. There were some highs and lows – some of which relate to what I perceive as character weaknesses – but I’ll dispense with the preamble and get down to the business at hand.
Without doing any comprehensive plot review (which all too many writers these days think is a requirement of talking about any show), let me say simply that “The Eye” functions as a bit of a bank caper: Andor and this (ahem) merry band of rebels have finally arrived to carry out their mission of absconding with what we’ve been told is an entire Imperial payroll. Though we’ve never been given any specific reason that the money is needed, it’s safe (I think) to suggest that we’re looking at the very funds that might be used to put the Rebel Alliance into high gear. After all, funds are required for any adventure, and this impressive haul might be good enough to set up the galaxy’s opposition forces in their fledgling days.
Andor himself continues to prove (as I’ve suggested) he’s quite possibly one of the weakest creations in all of the Star Wars pantheon of characters. While the show has offered up a loose kinda/sorta origin, the only thing these writers are clearly toying with is that he’s an immeasurably angry person. In fact, he’ll occasional stop at nothing – even killing in cold blood – if that means he can advance himself personally in the galaxy far, far away; and the hour even ends with him displaying yet again that he owes allegiance to no man, no woman, and no cause. It would seem he joined this action because he had no other choice; no that it’s done, he’s taking what’s his and getting out.
I don’t think that should necessarily come as any surprise. I have read some commentary and reviews about him – critics still seem to be very smitten with Diego Luna’s work in this somewhat politically-charged escapade – and I’m at a loss to understand why. All he’s shown me are some piloting skills, an affinity with a blaster, and an endless supply of anger. Everything – it would seem – makes him angry. Though we have seen incidents of his early life that may’ve given such resentment just cause, I don’t personally believe I’ve seen enough to justify his constant rage. Constant distrust? Sure. But never-ending fury? Sorry, folks, but I’m at a loss.
Early episodes hinted that there was something involving his “sister.” That thread, at this point, seems to have disappeared; and perhaps – when it rears its head again – that plotline might present the context I feel the show is currently lacking. While I probably enjoy a bit of mystery like anyone else, I do appreciate knowing just where personal motivations come from … and Andor – the man and the show – I’m just finding a mixed bag.
Visually, yes, “The Eye” was pretty arresting.
Like so many who write about it, Star Wars means an awful lot to me personally. Yes, I was there – as a youngling the age of eleven – to see the very first motion picture when it launched theatrically back in 1977. As you can imagine, nostalgia practically beckons that I continue to stoke the flame lit over four and one-half decades ago; while it may not burn as brightly with some of these installments, I still felt impelled to sound off on “The Eye,” the fateful sixth part of its inaugural season. There were some highs and lows – some of which relate to what I perceive as character weaknesses – but I’ll dispense with the preamble and get down to the business at hand.
Without doing any comprehensive plot review (which all too many writers these days think is a requirement of talking about any show), let me say simply that “The Eye” functions as a bit of a bank caper: Andor and this (ahem) merry band of rebels have finally arrived to carry out their mission of absconding with what we’ve been told is an entire Imperial payroll. Though we’ve never been given any specific reason that the money is needed, it’s safe (I think) to suggest that we’re looking at the very funds that might be used to put the Rebel Alliance into high gear. After all, funds are required for any adventure, and this impressive haul might be good enough to set up the galaxy’s opposition forces in their fledgling days.
Andor himself continues to prove (as I’ve suggested) he’s quite possibly one of the weakest creations in all of the Star Wars pantheon of characters. While the show has offered up a loose kinda/sorta origin, the only thing these writers are clearly toying with is that he’s an immeasurably angry person. In fact, he’ll occasional stop at nothing – even killing in cold blood – if that means he can advance himself personally in the galaxy far, far away; and the hour even ends with him displaying yet again that he owes allegiance to no man, no woman, and no cause. It would seem he joined this action because he had no other choice; no that it’s done, he’s taking what’s his and getting out.
I don’t think that should necessarily come as any surprise. I have read some commentary and reviews about him – critics still seem to be very smitten with Diego Luna’s work in this somewhat politically-charged escapade – and I’m at a loss to understand why. All he’s shown me are some piloting skills, an affinity with a blaster, and an endless supply of anger. Everything – it would seem – makes him angry. Though we have seen incidents of his early life that may’ve given such resentment just cause, I don’t personally believe I’ve seen enough to justify his constant rage. Constant distrust? Sure. But never-ending fury? Sorry, folks, but I’m at a loss.
Early episodes hinted that there was something involving his “sister.” That thread, at this point, seems to have disappeared; and perhaps – when it rears its head again – that plotline might present the context I feel the show is currently lacking. While I probably enjoy a bit of mystery like anyone else, I do appreciate knowing just where personal motivations come from … and Andor – the man and the show – I’m just finding a mixed bag.
Visually, yes, “The Eye” was pretty arresting.
The hour gave us a look at another dwindling culture that’s been squashed nearly into extinction by the efforts of the Empire. (For the record, I really don’t think any viewers need any more reason to hate Palpatine’s government, but I do understand and appreciate the depths to which any good writing can flesh them out a bit more.) The officers have now been revealed as not simply mere oppressors (if that wasn’t bad enough), and Tony Gilroy’s script has added racism, misogyny, and (gasp!) capitalists to the equation. Eventually, they’ll be shown to have kittens and small children, I fear, and only then will their transformation to the Dark Side be complete.
Also, the episode gave us a return to action, coupled against the backdrop of a celestial event that lit up the sky “with all the colors of the rainbow” (to borrow a phrase from another Disney property). Andor piloted the getaway ship right up into this galactic storm, and somehow he managed to escape while considerably smaller ships were pulverized in the process. Yes, yes, yes: I realize that there was the suggestion that Nemik was using some old school technology that apparently the Empire no longer understands. It still felt a bit too convenient – perhaps a bit too clever – and more likely a scriptwriter’s invention than anything authentic.
However, the hour also offered one of the show’s most uneven character moments to date.
One of the fallen rebels, Karis Nemik, is in dire need to medical assistance after nearly being crushed by a pushcart weighed down in Imperial credits. After their “fearless leader” Vel Sartha insists that they let him die, it’s Skeen – someone who has previously been played as about as untrustworthy as a henchman can be – who practically demands they do everything possible to save the young man. While it’s ultimately a decision Andor makes, this was still Skeen’s moment, I think, when he was finally given a bit of depth.
Lo and behold, the very next scene served up in the story had Skeen advocating for he and Andor to abscond with the stolen loot, leaving everyone behind to be caught, killed, or incarcerated.
Erm … hello?
Wasn’t this the guy who was just willing to risk it all to save Nemik?
And now he couldn’t care less?
Am I even watching the same show right now?
It’s these narrative moments that kinda/sorta belie logic that have me struggling with all of Andor. A throwaway line here or there could’ve easily been inserted – it could’ve been something as simple as Skeen suggesting privately to the paid mercenary that he wanted to use this medical emergency as a distraction so that they could now break away – but no such indication came. Before you know it – hell, before you knew for certain that maybe this Skeen just testing the pilot (something he’s done repeatedly throughout their uneasy partnership – Andor blasts him dead. Just like that. Boom. Here one moment. Gone the next. I guess that’s what you get for being inconsistent.
There were a few other similar narrative hiccups, and yet I don’t feel the point in belaboring them. (Well, except I did think the point of this mission was to rob the entire vault, so why did they spend so much time only stealing a fraction of it? And maybe why was it that no one at the Imperial base questioned the arrival of an all-new unexpected squadron of troopers? And what was up with the on-again, off-again jamming of the radios?) Like it or not, these minor failings do affect how some viewers see the show; and the fact that its pacing has been pretty dreadful doesn’t bode well, either. Splash, action, accents, antics, and visuals can only take one so far … but that’s about all Andor has left in its tank at this point.
-- EZ
Also, the episode gave us a return to action, coupled against the backdrop of a celestial event that lit up the sky “with all the colors of the rainbow” (to borrow a phrase from another Disney property). Andor piloted the getaway ship right up into this galactic storm, and somehow he managed to escape while considerably smaller ships were pulverized in the process. Yes, yes, yes: I realize that there was the suggestion that Nemik was using some old school technology that apparently the Empire no longer understands. It still felt a bit too convenient – perhaps a bit too clever – and more likely a scriptwriter’s invention than anything authentic.
However, the hour also offered one of the show’s most uneven character moments to date.
One of the fallen rebels, Karis Nemik, is in dire need to medical assistance after nearly being crushed by a pushcart weighed down in Imperial credits. After their “fearless leader” Vel Sartha insists that they let him die, it’s Skeen – someone who has previously been played as about as untrustworthy as a henchman can be – who practically demands they do everything possible to save the young man. While it’s ultimately a decision Andor makes, this was still Skeen’s moment, I think, when he was finally given a bit of depth.
Lo and behold, the very next scene served up in the story had Skeen advocating for he and Andor to abscond with the stolen loot, leaving everyone behind to be caught, killed, or incarcerated.
Erm … hello?
Wasn’t this the guy who was just willing to risk it all to save Nemik?
And now he couldn’t care less?
Am I even watching the same show right now?
It’s these narrative moments that kinda/sorta belie logic that have me struggling with all of Andor. A throwaway line here or there could’ve easily been inserted – it could’ve been something as simple as Skeen suggesting privately to the paid mercenary that he wanted to use this medical emergency as a distraction so that they could now break away – but no such indication came. Before you know it – hell, before you knew for certain that maybe this Skeen just testing the pilot (something he’s done repeatedly throughout their uneasy partnership – Andor blasts him dead. Just like that. Boom. Here one moment. Gone the next. I guess that’s what you get for being inconsistent.
There were a few other similar narrative hiccups, and yet I don’t feel the point in belaboring them. (Well, except I did think the point of this mission was to rob the entire vault, so why did they spend so much time only stealing a fraction of it? And maybe why was it that no one at the Imperial base questioned the arrival of an all-new unexpected squadron of troopers? And what was up with the on-again, off-again jamming of the radios?) Like it or not, these minor failings do affect how some viewers see the show; and the fact that its pacing has been pretty dreadful doesn’t bode well, either. Splash, action, accents, antics, and visuals can only take one so far … but that’s about all Andor has left in its tank at this point.
-- EZ