- Published on
Sigh.
I occasionally receive a bit of grief -- behind the scenes -- from folks who just don't understand my love of independent cinema; and that's why -- from time-to-time -- I find it necessary to remind regular readers of why I do love covering it.
First, very few outlets these days legitimately sing the praises of smaller films. That's a crying shame because -- in my experience -- viewers are missing out on some nifty little flicks.
Second, many of these storytellers are on the cusp of truly finding some break-out potential. I'd like to be there to take that ride with them -- from this side of the glass, naturally -- as I think it's great to watch folks truly find their footing and excel.
Lastly, it really helps give SciFiHistory.Net a bit of an edge against the big boys. I'll cover some of what they do, but very rarely do they swing my way. Does that make me competitive? Well, I'd like to think it does; but more than anything it keeps me true to myself, championing anything that looks like it deserves a chance to be found.
2021's "Gateway" is a little something something that's right up our alley here at SciFiHistory.Net. I received some very minor press materials -- along with a link to the trailer -- and I thought I'd do my part, pass along the info, and remind you folks that there are always hidden gems out there waiting for you in the least likely places. Check out the trailer, see what you think, and join in the efforts to help the little guys break through all that noise.
You know what to do.
I occasionally receive a bit of grief -- behind the scenes -- from folks who just don't understand my love of independent cinema; and that's why -- from time-to-time -- I find it necessary to remind regular readers of why I do love covering it.
First, very few outlets these days legitimately sing the praises of smaller films. That's a crying shame because -- in my experience -- viewers are missing out on some nifty little flicks.
Second, many of these storytellers are on the cusp of truly finding some break-out potential. I'd like to be there to take that ride with them -- from this side of the glass, naturally -- as I think it's great to watch folks truly find their footing and excel.
Lastly, it really helps give SciFiHistory.Net a bit of an edge against the big boys. I'll cover some of what they do, but very rarely do they swing my way. Does that make me competitive? Well, I'd like to think it does; but more than anything it keeps me true to myself, championing anything that looks like it deserves a chance to be found.
2021's "Gateway" is a little something something that's right up our alley here at SciFiHistory.Net. I received some very minor press materials -- along with a link to the trailer -- and I thought I'd do my part, pass along the info, and remind you folks that there are always hidden gems out there waiting for you in the least likely places. Check out the trailer, see what you think, and join in the efforts to help the little guys break through all that noise.
You know what to do.
IT'S AN ORDINARY HOUSE - BUT WHAT WAITS INSIDE IS ANYTHING BUT
GATEWAY
Irish Supernatural Thriller Comes to Digital on 7/15
"Owens’ flick is a concrete demonstration that filmmakers do not always need to reinvent the wheel to make a compelling movie.... A door creaking, a moment of hesitation, a thousand-yard stare... along with many other well-oiled maneuvers, are all executed masterfully." - CINEUROPA
GATEWAY
Irish Supernatural Thriller Comes to Digital on 7/15
"Owens’ flick is a concrete demonstration that filmmakers do not always need to reinvent the wheel to make a compelling movie.... A door creaking, a moment of hesitation, a thousand-yard stare... along with many other well-oiled maneuvers, are all executed masterfully." - CINEUROPA
OFFICIAL FILM SYNOPSIS:
Mike is a low-level drug dealer in debt to a ruthless supplier. When he and his gang set up shop in an abandoned house, he thinks his problems are solved. But a mysterious locked door inside the house and growing discord within the gang brings old feuds boiling to the surface. As friendships unravel, the house begins to enact its own plan, using the gang’s own deepest dark thoughts against them.
Like lambs to the slaughter, the men are lured one by one into the room and there they are confronted by the evil world that lies within themselves. The once-locked door is now open, and what lies beyond has its own desires.
Mike is a low-level drug dealer in debt to a ruthless supplier. When he and his gang set up shop in an abandoned house, he thinks his problems are solved. But a mysterious locked door inside the house and growing discord within the gang brings old feuds boiling to the surface. As friendships unravel, the house begins to enact its own plan, using the gang’s own deepest dark thoughts against them.
Like lambs to the slaughter, the men are lured one by one into the room and there they are confronted by the evil world that lies within themselves. The once-locked door is now open, and what lies beyond has its own desires.
GATEWAY
Directed & Written by: Niall Owens
Country of Origin: Ireland
Language: English
Genre: Thriller
Distributor: Dark Sky Films
Produced by: Niall Owens
Run Time: 80 minutes
Cast: Tim Creed (Vikings, Dominion Creek), Kevin Barry (Michael Inside, Bridget & Eamon), Laurence Ubong Williams (Peacock's The Capture), Fiona Hardy (Axman), John Ryan Howard (Beyond the Woods), Jimmy Smallhorne (Dead Still, Who We Love)
Directed & Written by: Niall Owens
Country of Origin: Ireland
Language: English
Genre: Thriller
Distributor: Dark Sky Films
Produced by: Niall Owens
Run Time: 80 minutes
Cast: Tim Creed (Vikings, Dominion Creek), Kevin Barry (Michael Inside, Bridget & Eamon), Laurence Ubong Williams (Peacock's The Capture), Fiona Hardy (Axman), John Ryan Howard (Beyond the Woods), Jimmy Smallhorne (Dead Still, Who We Love)
- Published on
As I've always said, everybody wants to be in the Science Fiction and Fantasy business ... and with as popular as these films can be, who can blame them?
Such looks to be the case when even a country like Cambodia begins crafting films to push the boundaries of what's possible. This looks to be the case with the forthcoming Karmalink (2021), a feature that's enjoyed a bit of praise on the film festival circuit. This one drops for the masses-at-large in July, and I'll be looking into it should I be fortunate enough to obtain permission from the distributor. It definitely looks interesting.
Materials and trailer are below. You know what to do.
Such looks to be the case when even a country like Cambodia begins crafting films to push the boundaries of what's possible. This looks to be the case with the forthcoming Karmalink (2021), a feature that's enjoyed a bit of praise on the film festival circuit. This one drops for the masses-at-large in July, and I'll be looking into it should I be fortunate enough to obtain permission from the distributor. It definitely looks interesting.
Materials and trailer are below. You know what to do.
Conceived as a way to interrogate processes of neo-colonialism, and highlighting the alienating effects of technological progress, Jake Wachtel's KARMALINK is a mind-bending tale of reincarnation, artificial consciousness, and the search for enlightenment.
In near-future Phnom Penh, the rich and privileged are augmented with nanotech, and new skyscrapers crowd the skyline. In Tralop Bek, a tight-knit community threatened with forced eviction, 13-year-old Leng Heng is having vivid dreams of his past lives. He and his friends are convinced they are meant to find a buried Buddhist statue to save their homes, and they seek out help from a street-smart girl in the neighborhood, Srey Leak. Together they follow clues across town and into the past, uncovering a link with a genius neuroscientist on a quest for digital nirvana. As Leng Heng’s dreams converge on the present, his very sense of identity begins to unravel. When it becomes clear that the stakes are higher than they imagined, the two friends must decide how far they are willing to go to find their treasure and the truth.
American-born filmmaker Jake Wachtel began his career making short documentaries for nonprofits and social impact ventures working in the global south. His work has been featured on NYTimes.com, Wired, NPR, and MSNBC.
In 2015, he moved to Cambodia to teach a year-long class in filmmaking to children as a part of the Filmmakers Without Borders initiative. His Phnom Penh-set short film THE FOREIGNER HERE premiered at the Cambodian International Film Festival, and he has gone on to collaborate with many of the growing new wave of young Cambodian filmmakers. He also served as on-set editor for Jimmy Henderson's Cambodian-Chinese coproduction THE PREY. Phnom Penh became his home base for several years as he developed his first feature KARMALINK--Cambodia’s first sci-fi movie—set in the community where he taught and produced with a majority Cambodian cast and crew, including his former students.
Cambodia, 2021, 102 minutes, in Khmer with English subtitles
***OFFICIAL SELECTION: VENICE FILM CRITICS’ WEEK (OPENING NIGHT FILM), AUSTIN FILM FESTIVAL, GLASGOW FILM FESTIVAL and many more.***
KARMALINK will be released in the US Theatrically in major cities and on VOD in the US and Canada on Friday, July 15.
Director: Jake Wachtel
Cast: Srey Leak Chhith, Leng Heng Prak, Sahajak Boonthanakit, Cindy Sirinya Bishop, Rous Mony and Sveng Socheata.
Theaters include:
Lumiere Music Hall - Los Angeles, CA
Rialto Lakeside Elmwood - Berkeley, CA
Rialto Lakeside Sonoma - Sebastopol, CA
SIFF Film Center - Seattle, WA
VOD Platforms include:
US: Apple TV/iTunes, Amazon, Google Play, Vudu, XFinity Cable, and more.
Canada: Apple TV/iTunes, Google Play.
ABOUT GOOD DEED ENTERTAINMENT
Good Deed Entertainment (GDE) is an Ohio based independent studio dedicated to producing, financing, and distributing quality entertainment for under-served audiences. Its distribution slate includes recent releases Summertime, Ma Belle, My Beauty, and Lucky Grandma, in addition to the Academy Award nominated, Loving Vincent, and Spirit Award nominated, To Dust.
- Published on
It’s sad to say that in these modern times comedy just ain’t for everyone.
For some obscure reason, we’ve become a society that likes to get offended by damn near everything. Gone are the days when even the most casual observation could be made without having to offer up an apology to some person or group afterwards, and then you end up being put through sensitivity training by your employer only because you offered a flippant observation. When did we stop feeling sorry for the world at large and start worrying about every single person’s self-esteem and personal worth? When did we lose that wide-eyed, childlike enthusiasm to group together and collectively make fun of ourselves? When did we turn away from celebrating the unconventional and instead aimed our sights on eliminating everything goofy in the eyes of our founding fathers and other great persons from history?
Well, it was likely when we stopped raising Ninja Badasses and started raising sissy boys.
I said what I said.
Sorry, not sorry.
(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:
“Hold onto your egg rolls for the acclaimed ninja adventure filled with bullets, blades and hot babes! The Ninja VIP Super Club is doing a slow drag across the American Midwest, culminating in female sacrifice. When they kidnap a super hot babe that local scumbag Rex has his eyes on – it’s up to him to become the ninja badass to steal her back. Then she can have his babies!”
Warning: there isn’t a single moment, character, situation, scenario, or frame of this film that audiences are supposed to take seriously … on any level.
Ninja Badass is a live action cartoon, delivered with the exact right tone consistently from start-to-finish to let everyone who’s watching know that this world and its characters are entirely fictitious. Its absurdism is meant to entertain exclusively. It has no hidden messages. There is no subtext. You’re not supposed to watch this with friends and family and then – post viewing – get into the usual hot debates about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. You’re only meant to watch … and laugh. Nothing more. Nothing less.
And laugh is just what I did.
For some obscure reason, we’ve become a society that likes to get offended by damn near everything. Gone are the days when even the most casual observation could be made without having to offer up an apology to some person or group afterwards, and then you end up being put through sensitivity training by your employer only because you offered a flippant observation. When did we stop feeling sorry for the world at large and start worrying about every single person’s self-esteem and personal worth? When did we lose that wide-eyed, childlike enthusiasm to group together and collectively make fun of ourselves? When did we turn away from celebrating the unconventional and instead aimed our sights on eliminating everything goofy in the eyes of our founding fathers and other great persons from history?
Well, it was likely when we stopped raising Ninja Badasses and started raising sissy boys.
I said what I said.
Sorry, not sorry.
(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:
“Hold onto your egg rolls for the acclaimed ninja adventure filled with bullets, blades and hot babes! The Ninja VIP Super Club is doing a slow drag across the American Midwest, culminating in female sacrifice. When they kidnap a super hot babe that local scumbag Rex has his eyes on – it’s up to him to become the ninja badass to steal her back. Then she can have his babies!”
Warning: there isn’t a single moment, character, situation, scenario, or frame of this film that audiences are supposed to take seriously … on any level.
Ninja Badass is a live action cartoon, delivered with the exact right tone consistently from start-to-finish to let everyone who’s watching know that this world and its characters are entirely fictitious. Its absurdism is meant to entertain exclusively. It has no hidden messages. There is no subtext. You’re not supposed to watch this with friends and family and then – post viewing – get into the usual hot debates about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. You’re only meant to watch … and laugh. Nothing more. Nothing less.
And laugh is just what I did.
Writer, director, and star Ryan Harrison brings his eponymous to life and a kinda/sorta mash-up of cinema’s Joe Dirt (2001) and Billy Bob Thornton’s ‘Karl’ from Sling Blade (1996). His script consistently maintains a level of silliness rarely seen in pictures and – if for no other reason – deserves to be celebrated for that fact alone. He and his merry band of knuckleheads have obviously lovingly assembled this unbridled chaos and delivered it as a well-meant gift to all of mankind; and I encourage folks near and far to seek it out when you’re truly in a mood to turn your brain off, shut out the troubles of the world, and just go nowhere fast. Everyone involved was clearly in on the joke, and it shows.
If the film has a blemish (face facts, kids: all films do), I’d argue that it’s a tad long.
Years back, I’d observed that watching the late, great comedian Robin Williams was a difficult experience for me because I always thought his stand-up specials went on just a bit too long. Laughing continuously – like anything in life – does have its limits; and this Badass’ antics probably stretch about 15 minutes longer than needed. (I think it was Sylvester Stallone who once suggested the perfect film clocks in at or just under 90 minutes as it forces storytellers to keep the story both trim and the plot moving … and I’d argue that even something as glorious as Ninja Badass has a few nuggets that could be sacrificed … for art’s sake.) Though no character really wears out its welcome, there might be a few sequences here or there that – while funny – are a bit repetitive and could go. (For example, that whole gaining one’s powers from eating egg rolls gets used more than one too many times.)
Still, this is a film that I could watch many times in a lifetime. It’s the kind of thing you might keep on your shelf just to throw in the DVD player when you’re feeling low. Or maybe you have friends over – folks who share your particular sense of humor – and you put it on to help either set the mood or make the evening. And fraternity houses around the world could do well to set this thing up in their living room on constant rotation: it’d be a welcome distraction from the rigors of getting an education. While it won’t be for everyone – no film is – I suspect fans of insane B-Movies will have more fun with this than should be legally possible.
Ninja Badass (2020) was produced by Fat Eagle. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated via Bayview Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? For a comic sleeper and B-Movie, this fool looks and sounds surprising grand; any imperfections are part and parcel of the madness. Plus, it offers up the best special effects APP money can guy! As for the special features? Yeah, I’m surprised, but it is a nice assortment of extras done up in the same spirt as the original film (for the most part) … but the blooper real was surprisingly low key for something this zany. Just sayin’.
Highest recommendation possible.
… but look, people: comedy isn’t for everyone. In a world that tries to cancel a genius like Dave Chappelle and sees the likes of Chris Rock slapped over a harmless joke, it’s never been clearer that what one person finds funny another person will seek to end your existence. Ninja Badass is a live action cartoon; and, consequently, theirs is absolutely nothing in here that any viewer is supposed to take seriously on any emotional, literal, or textual level. (I’m honestly aghast that I have to say that.) Think Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner level of violence – insane, loony, illogical, impossible scenarios – and you get my drift. This is meant to be a totally braindead romp … and, on that level, it succeeds. Take a chill pill and laugh at something for a change. It’ll do your soul good.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Bayview Entertainment provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Ninja Badass by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
If the film has a blemish (face facts, kids: all films do), I’d argue that it’s a tad long.
Years back, I’d observed that watching the late, great comedian Robin Williams was a difficult experience for me because I always thought his stand-up specials went on just a bit too long. Laughing continuously – like anything in life – does have its limits; and this Badass’ antics probably stretch about 15 minutes longer than needed. (I think it was Sylvester Stallone who once suggested the perfect film clocks in at or just under 90 minutes as it forces storytellers to keep the story both trim and the plot moving … and I’d argue that even something as glorious as Ninja Badass has a few nuggets that could be sacrificed … for art’s sake.) Though no character really wears out its welcome, there might be a few sequences here or there that – while funny – are a bit repetitive and could go. (For example, that whole gaining one’s powers from eating egg rolls gets used more than one too many times.)
Still, this is a film that I could watch many times in a lifetime. It’s the kind of thing you might keep on your shelf just to throw in the DVD player when you’re feeling low. Or maybe you have friends over – folks who share your particular sense of humor – and you put it on to help either set the mood or make the evening. And fraternity houses around the world could do well to set this thing up in their living room on constant rotation: it’d be a welcome distraction from the rigors of getting an education. While it won’t be for everyone – no film is – I suspect fans of insane B-Movies will have more fun with this than should be legally possible.
Ninja Badass (2020) was produced by Fat Eagle. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated via Bayview Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? For a comic sleeper and B-Movie, this fool looks and sounds surprising grand; any imperfections are part and parcel of the madness. Plus, it offers up the best special effects APP money can guy! As for the special features? Yeah, I’m surprised, but it is a nice assortment of extras done up in the same spirt as the original film (for the most part) … but the blooper real was surprisingly low key for something this zany. Just sayin’.
Highest recommendation possible.
… but look, people: comedy isn’t for everyone. In a world that tries to cancel a genius like Dave Chappelle and sees the likes of Chris Rock slapped over a harmless joke, it’s never been clearer that what one person finds funny another person will seek to end your existence. Ninja Badass is a live action cartoon; and, consequently, theirs is absolutely nothing in here that any viewer is supposed to take seriously on any emotional, literal, or textual level. (I’m honestly aghast that I have to say that.) Think Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner level of violence – insane, loony, illogical, impossible scenarios – and you get my drift. This is meant to be a totally braindead romp … and, on that level, it succeeds. Take a chill pill and laugh at something for a change. It’ll do your soul good.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Bayview Entertainment provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Ninja Badass 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
Another great love of mine – when it comes to filmdom – are the film noirs of the 1940’s and 1950’s.
An awful lot has been written about what truly makes a flick fall into this genre. Some critics like to take the easy way out by really only pairing up the prominent theme along with when it was produced; while there’s nothing wrong with that, I’ve always felt that does a disservice to what truly endears these stories to viewers. That would be the examination of these flawed, flawed characters willing to do just about anything to have their problem resolved.
And by resolved, I don’t mean ‘solved.’ I mean to have the problem just ‘go away.’ To disappear. To merely remove it from the day-to-day living. By taking a quick and convenient short cut, that trouble is likely to come back again, now exponentially more powerful and dangerous to face than ever before. By choosing an easy way out, they’ve made matters worse, and now their remaining options are few and far between. So much the better for those of us watching and enjoying our thrills vicariously. We wouldn’t want to be in any of their shoes.
The folks at Kino Lorber offered me a set of noirs to review, and I’m thrilled to sound off on each of them below. Buckle up, boys and girls. It’s going to be a rough night … and not everyone is going to make it out alive.
(NOTE: The following reviews 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 …)
An awful lot has been written about what truly makes a flick fall into this genre. Some critics like to take the easy way out by really only pairing up the prominent theme along with when it was produced; while there’s nothing wrong with that, I’ve always felt that does a disservice to what truly endears these stories to viewers. That would be the examination of these flawed, flawed characters willing to do just about anything to have their problem resolved.
And by resolved, I don’t mean ‘solved.’ I mean to have the problem just ‘go away.’ To disappear. To merely remove it from the day-to-day living. By taking a quick and convenient short cut, that trouble is likely to come back again, now exponentially more powerful and dangerous to face than ever before. By choosing an easy way out, they’ve made matters worse, and now their remaining options are few and far between. So much the better for those of us watching and enjoying our thrills vicariously. We wouldn’t want to be in any of their shoes.
The folks at Kino Lorber offered me a set of noirs to review, and I’m thrilled to sound off on each of them below. Buckle up, boys and girls. It’s going to be a rough night … and not everyone is going to make it out alive.
(NOTE: The following reviews 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 …)
The Boss (1956)
From the product packaging:
“Following World War I, ruthless veteran Matt Brady inherits the clout of his political kingpin brother and climbs the ladder of corruption all the way to the top of the state.”
I think it’s safe to suggest that The Boss is the most character-driven entry into this three-film set: Brady (played by John Payne) is given the length of the film to establish himself rather quickly and then grow and change with the times as the years go by. Still, the film isn’t about any metamorphosis, per se, as it is an exploration about how corruption takes root fairly easily and then infects everything around the corrupted. Payne finds comfort in his illicit business affairs, so much so that he has absolutely no means to see his inevitable fall from grace in the last reel because of his blind faith.
Also, The Boss surrounds Payne with an assortment of characters with which the audience can come to understand him further.
His army buddy, Bob (William Bishop), ends up coming along for the career ride in graft and plunder largely because Matt makes it so lucrative. Doe Avedon plays ‘Elsie Reynolds,’ Matt’s one-time sweetheart whom – in a moment of drunken selfishness – he casts momentarily aside, inevitably forcing her into Bob’s arm. She, too, finds herself living a life made a dream come true because of Matt’s choices. Lastly, Gloria McGehee ends up stealing scenes as ‘Lorry Reed,’ a self-proclaimed ugly duckling who winds up married to Matt as a result of the same drunken binge that saw him rejecting Elsie. McGehee is particularly effective in the role; as the chosen woman who truly lives a life of luxury equally as a social cast out, she’s the only one who pushes back against Matt’s darkest desires mostly because she’s the only one here who examines life with both eyes open. It’s all imperfect – much as she sees herself – but she still tries to make the best of things.
Of this trio, Bishop’s portrayal – after some great scenes early in the film – ends up being a bit cardboard. He slips a bit too easily (for my tastes) into the deal, and then he plays a bit too close to non-responsive as the story progresses. (I’ll admit – without spoiling it – that there’s a respectable reason why that’s tied to the conclusion.) Avedon is good, but of these three she’s largely given the least to do, appearing in a handful of scenes as little more than the dutiful wife who never quite questions anything, despite the suggestion of impropriety here and there. But McGehee is a delight: hers is a balancing act between underplaying the charm of the square peg of the group but being the only one truly conscious of her predicament, and she’s fabulous in the role.
Eventually, Matt’s prospects grow grim – the weed of crime bares bitter fruit, as The Shadow would say – and he loses his kingship to the role of being the mob’s pawn. Such a fall can only mean that he’ll eventually have to pay the piper, and The Boss – despite trying to put some things right in the last reel – ends up being caught by the law when he least expects it.
The film works on all levels. It’s a crime drama with great performances and some respectable cinematography. Viewers not particular enamored with noir should still find plenty to enjoy as the drama steers away from traditional melodrama of the era, though the quick-and-convenient marriage does push the camp factor a bit high. Thankfully, the script by Dalton Trumbo never grows moss, even giving this mismatched couple the scenes needed to give their relationship the depth to defy screen conventions of the day.
Alas, I’ve read that McGehee – who I thought was fabulous in the role – left us all too early, succumbing to a heart attack at the age of 42. I can’t help but wonder what we could’ve seen from her had she lived longer.
From the product packaging:
“Following World War I, ruthless veteran Matt Brady inherits the clout of his political kingpin brother and climbs the ladder of corruption all the way to the top of the state.”
I think it’s safe to suggest that The Boss is the most character-driven entry into this three-film set: Brady (played by John Payne) is given the length of the film to establish himself rather quickly and then grow and change with the times as the years go by. Still, the film isn’t about any metamorphosis, per se, as it is an exploration about how corruption takes root fairly easily and then infects everything around the corrupted. Payne finds comfort in his illicit business affairs, so much so that he has absolutely no means to see his inevitable fall from grace in the last reel because of his blind faith.
Also, The Boss surrounds Payne with an assortment of characters with which the audience can come to understand him further.
His army buddy, Bob (William Bishop), ends up coming along for the career ride in graft and plunder largely because Matt makes it so lucrative. Doe Avedon plays ‘Elsie Reynolds,’ Matt’s one-time sweetheart whom – in a moment of drunken selfishness – he casts momentarily aside, inevitably forcing her into Bob’s arm. She, too, finds herself living a life made a dream come true because of Matt’s choices. Lastly, Gloria McGehee ends up stealing scenes as ‘Lorry Reed,’ a self-proclaimed ugly duckling who winds up married to Matt as a result of the same drunken binge that saw him rejecting Elsie. McGehee is particularly effective in the role; as the chosen woman who truly lives a life of luxury equally as a social cast out, she’s the only one who pushes back against Matt’s darkest desires mostly because she’s the only one here who examines life with both eyes open. It’s all imperfect – much as she sees herself – but she still tries to make the best of things.
Of this trio, Bishop’s portrayal – after some great scenes early in the film – ends up being a bit cardboard. He slips a bit too easily (for my tastes) into the deal, and then he plays a bit too close to non-responsive as the story progresses. (I’ll admit – without spoiling it – that there’s a respectable reason why that’s tied to the conclusion.) Avedon is good, but of these three she’s largely given the least to do, appearing in a handful of scenes as little more than the dutiful wife who never quite questions anything, despite the suggestion of impropriety here and there. But McGehee is a delight: hers is a balancing act between underplaying the charm of the square peg of the group but being the only one truly conscious of her predicament, and she’s fabulous in the role.
Eventually, Matt’s prospects grow grim – the weed of crime bares bitter fruit, as The Shadow would say – and he loses his kingship to the role of being the mob’s pawn. Such a fall can only mean that he’ll eventually have to pay the piper, and The Boss – despite trying to put some things right in the last reel – ends up being caught by the law when he least expects it.
The film works on all levels. It’s a crime drama with great performances and some respectable cinematography. Viewers not particular enamored with noir should still find plenty to enjoy as the drama steers away from traditional melodrama of the era, though the quick-and-convenient marriage does push the camp factor a bit high. Thankfully, the script by Dalton Trumbo never grows moss, even giving this mismatched couple the scenes needed to give their relationship the depth to defy screen conventions of the day.
Alas, I’ve read that McGehee – who I thought was fabulous in the role – left us all too early, succumbing to a heart attack at the age of 42. I can’t help but wonder what we could’ve seen from her had she lived longer.
Chicago Confidential (1957)
From the product packaging:
“When union crooks in collaboration with a gambling syndicate try to pin a murder rap on uncooperative union leader Blane, Fremont smells a set-up.”
Though Chicago Confidential could be argued as the most formulaic and derivative of these three films, I’ve no problem admitting that I liked it the best; and that’s because – when it stays away from the omniscient narrator framework it employs in a few places to move its slim plot along – it’s truly a bare bones, old school police procedural, the kind of which television has been doing so very well since the 1950’s. That said, it’s also the most predicable.
The late Brian Keith in the role of somewhat crusading States’ Attorney ‘Jim Fremont’ underplays everything here, delivering his lines and small speeches in an almost monotone ‘Jack Webb’ intensity. His dedication to the evidence ends up having him jail the wrong man – Blane (Dick Foran) – for a crime he didn’t commit; once science (aka further evidence) proves him wrong, he goes on a relentless crusade to not only free the jailed union boss but also uncover the conspiracy that misled the cops. In this regard – like all others who undertake such a personal mission against criminals – he puts his life and limb in jeopardy, and – yes – he even suffers more than a few blows to the head on his quest for justice.
What folks typically don’t like in film (i.e. the carbon-copied stereotypical mobsters and women of the night) is what makes all of this work for me. It’s all seedy underbelly, and only the servants of truth like Chicago’s finest (ahem) have what it takes to walk toe-to-toe with gangsters. As a side passion, I tend to lose myself in vintage crime novels, and so much of Bernard Gordon’s screenplay (adapted from a book of the same name by Lee Mortimer and Jack Lait) feels authentic to that world. (In fact, I just ordered myself a used copy of the novel based on some reviews.) It might be imperfect based on a certain measurement, but it’s pitch perfect for those of us who appreciate a little ‘hard-boiled’ prose in our regular literary diets, so I found the flick inspired.
Yes, it’s imperfect. Yes, it isn’t hard to see why it’s a bit of a forgotten film. Yes, it’s dated.
But it’s damn good law. And I approve.
From the product packaging:
“When union crooks in collaboration with a gambling syndicate try to pin a murder rap on uncooperative union leader Blane, Fremont smells a set-up.”
Though Chicago Confidential could be argued as the most formulaic and derivative of these three films, I’ve no problem admitting that I liked it the best; and that’s because – when it stays away from the omniscient narrator framework it employs in a few places to move its slim plot along – it’s truly a bare bones, old school police procedural, the kind of which television has been doing so very well since the 1950’s. That said, it’s also the most predicable.
The late Brian Keith in the role of somewhat crusading States’ Attorney ‘Jim Fremont’ underplays everything here, delivering his lines and small speeches in an almost monotone ‘Jack Webb’ intensity. His dedication to the evidence ends up having him jail the wrong man – Blane (Dick Foran) – for a crime he didn’t commit; once science (aka further evidence) proves him wrong, he goes on a relentless crusade to not only free the jailed union boss but also uncover the conspiracy that misled the cops. In this regard – like all others who undertake such a personal mission against criminals – he puts his life and limb in jeopardy, and – yes – he even suffers more than a few blows to the head on his quest for justice.
What folks typically don’t like in film (i.e. the carbon-copied stereotypical mobsters and women of the night) is what makes all of this work for me. It’s all seedy underbelly, and only the servants of truth like Chicago’s finest (ahem) have what it takes to walk toe-to-toe with gangsters. As a side passion, I tend to lose myself in vintage crime novels, and so much of Bernard Gordon’s screenplay (adapted from a book of the same name by Lee Mortimer and Jack Lait) feels authentic to that world. (In fact, I just ordered myself a used copy of the novel based on some reviews.) It might be imperfect based on a certain measurement, but it’s pitch perfect for those of us who appreciate a little ‘hard-boiled’ prose in our regular literary diets, so I found the flick inspired.
Yes, it’s imperfect. Yes, it isn’t hard to see why it’s a bit of a forgotten film. Yes, it’s dated.
But it’s damn good law. And I approve.
The Fearmakers (1958)
From the product packaging:
“Dana Andrews is a Korean War veteran who returns home after being tortured and brainwashed as a P.O.W. and resumes work at a public relations firm in Washington, D.C., where he uncovers a hotbed of political manipulation that ensnares him in a web of suspicion.”
As a genre junkie, I was already familiar with director Jacques Tourneur’s work. In 1942, he directed Cat People for RKO Radio Pictures, a film I’ve known some people argue is as influential from its days as are the Universal Pictures Monsters Universe. (I’d stop short of that endorsement, but the film does have its merits.) In 1943, he directed the creepy I Walked With A Zombie also for RKO. And in 1947, he directed the great Robert Mitchum in Out Of The Past, a private eye film so revered that in 1991 is was inducted into the U.S.’s National Film Registry. (FYI: Cat People is also in there, so let’s just agree that – as a director – Tourneur had a solid, respectful grasp of spinning good tales.)
To my surprise, The Fearmakers seemed a bit undercooked, especially so given Tourneur’s involvement. Its script – adapted from the Darwin L. Teilhet novel by Elliot West and Chris Appley – occasionally moves in shorthand, almost completely ignored the how’s and why’s of political polling (and how its trustworthiness changed) in favor of pushing a rather banal melodrama about one marketing firm’s corporation corruption. There’s even a love triangle pushed to the forefront a bit too conveniently to heighten the suspense and even a subplot involving brainwashing whose harmful side effects manage to crop at the most inconvenient time possible that muddles the brew.
It's worth noting that The Fearmakers does bear a passing similarity to the vastly superior film The Manchurian Candidate (1962) that was still a few years away from coming to pass. Both flicks do traffic in themes of mental programing, but Fear’s is a far more conventional use of such treacherousness, instead sticking to Chinese meddling really as a subplot not really tied to its main points. In fact, its inclusion here really is more of a character sidebar for Andrews; his time in captivity produced a series of unpredictable migraines that nearly cripple his ability to defend himself and those around him when the going gets tough.
Having not read Teilhet’s novel upon which all of this is based, I can’t help but wonder if some of the film’s narrative failures are tied to ideas lost in translation. For example, I can imagine a prescient author winningly tying together Andrews’ indoctrination by the Chinese beside the advertising firm’s manipulation to shape public opinion; but as we’re never given ‘the inside track’ to see how all of this works – its effectiveness is only suggested by the script – then that association might be lost on some. There’s a great sequence that gets paralleled on film (i.e. Andrews is shown being beaten as torture by the Chinese in the opening and then he undergoes the same treatment by the ad firm’s goon), but because the latter sequence is all about thuggery and not about the ad firm’s programming I’d say nuance was chucked out the window in favor of simplicity.
Still, Andrews does good work as an affable lead. Though he was probably a bit older than what was necessary, he possesses an easiness as a player that it’s easy to forgive a few shortcomings. Mel Torme steals a few scenes as a somewhat bookish yet politely sniveling corporate toadie whose love for the office secretary compels him to look the other way until it’s too late. Veda Ann Borg makes the most in a small role; she ably chews scenery as the lustful host of a D.C. area boarding house who might offer more than an empty bed (and breakfast) to the right customer.
Recommended. As noirs go, these three are certainly good, though it’s easy to see why they’re probably not as revered as other films in the genre. They came along fairly late in noir’s central era, so audiences had seen many of these elements already put to use in perhaps more creative ways elsewhere. Good performances can take a film only so far; the novelty of stories involving fresh elements had worn a bit thin, leaving this trio perhaps a bit too formulaic to rise above the fray.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray set of Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema VII by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
From the product packaging:
“Dana Andrews is a Korean War veteran who returns home after being tortured and brainwashed as a P.O.W. and resumes work at a public relations firm in Washington, D.C., where he uncovers a hotbed of political manipulation that ensnares him in a web of suspicion.”
As a genre junkie, I was already familiar with director Jacques Tourneur’s work. In 1942, he directed Cat People for RKO Radio Pictures, a film I’ve known some people argue is as influential from its days as are the Universal Pictures Monsters Universe. (I’d stop short of that endorsement, but the film does have its merits.) In 1943, he directed the creepy I Walked With A Zombie also for RKO. And in 1947, he directed the great Robert Mitchum in Out Of The Past, a private eye film so revered that in 1991 is was inducted into the U.S.’s National Film Registry. (FYI: Cat People is also in there, so let’s just agree that – as a director – Tourneur had a solid, respectful grasp of spinning good tales.)
To my surprise, The Fearmakers seemed a bit undercooked, especially so given Tourneur’s involvement. Its script – adapted from the Darwin L. Teilhet novel by Elliot West and Chris Appley – occasionally moves in shorthand, almost completely ignored the how’s and why’s of political polling (and how its trustworthiness changed) in favor of pushing a rather banal melodrama about one marketing firm’s corporation corruption. There’s even a love triangle pushed to the forefront a bit too conveniently to heighten the suspense and even a subplot involving brainwashing whose harmful side effects manage to crop at the most inconvenient time possible that muddles the brew.
It's worth noting that The Fearmakers does bear a passing similarity to the vastly superior film The Manchurian Candidate (1962) that was still a few years away from coming to pass. Both flicks do traffic in themes of mental programing, but Fear’s is a far more conventional use of such treacherousness, instead sticking to Chinese meddling really as a subplot not really tied to its main points. In fact, its inclusion here really is more of a character sidebar for Andrews; his time in captivity produced a series of unpredictable migraines that nearly cripple his ability to defend himself and those around him when the going gets tough.
Having not read Teilhet’s novel upon which all of this is based, I can’t help but wonder if some of the film’s narrative failures are tied to ideas lost in translation. For example, I can imagine a prescient author winningly tying together Andrews’ indoctrination by the Chinese beside the advertising firm’s manipulation to shape public opinion; but as we’re never given ‘the inside track’ to see how all of this works – its effectiveness is only suggested by the script – then that association might be lost on some. There’s a great sequence that gets paralleled on film (i.e. Andrews is shown being beaten as torture by the Chinese in the opening and then he undergoes the same treatment by the ad firm’s goon), but because the latter sequence is all about thuggery and not about the ad firm’s programming I’d say nuance was chucked out the window in favor of simplicity.
Still, Andrews does good work as an affable lead. Though he was probably a bit older than what was necessary, he possesses an easiness as a player that it’s easy to forgive a few shortcomings. Mel Torme steals a few scenes as a somewhat bookish yet politely sniveling corporate toadie whose love for the office secretary compels him to look the other way until it’s too late. Veda Ann Borg makes the most in a small role; she ably chews scenery as the lustful host of a D.C. area boarding house who might offer more than an empty bed (and breakfast) to the right customer.
Recommended. As noirs go, these three are certainly good, though it’s easy to see why they’re probably not as revered as other films in the genre. They came along fairly late in noir’s central era, so audiences had seen many of these elements already put to use in perhaps more creative ways elsewhere. Good performances can take a film only so far; the novelty of stories involving fresh elements had worn a bit thin, leaving this trio perhaps a bit too formulaic to rise above the fray.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray set of Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema VII 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
One of my fellow SciFi junkies on the Facebook alerted me to this recent trailer drop only this morning, and, yes, Vesper certainly looks like it might be a cinematic return to some thoughtful and environmentally-conscious storytelling ... but there's also one little filmed bit that was a throwback to something we've seen in James Cameron's Avatar. Still, it does look like something worth watching out for as the silver screen as of late has been a bit underwhelming in our beloved genre.
Here's the film's plot summary as provided by our friends at IMDB.com:
"After the collapse of Earth's ecosystem, Vesper, a 13-year-old girl struggling to survive with her paralyzed Father, meets a mysterious Woman with a secret that forces Vesper to use her wits, strength and bio-hacking abilities to fight for the possibility of a future."
The site also asserts that the film was directed by Kristina Buozyte and Bruno Sampler (who also penned the screenplay along with assistance from Brian Clark). I recognized Buozyte's name and did a quick search: she and Bruno also wrote (and she directed) 2012's Vanishing Waves, something I've seen on home video but don't quite recall from a few years back. Seems to me it was heavy on visuals with a strong premise -- if I remember correctly, it dealt with a scientist trying to insist oneself into the consciosness of another person -- but, again, I see so much that it's occasionally hard to reconcile them all. I might do some digging in my older files to see if I can find a review of that one; I used to archive them all over at Amazon.com (in the days when I was a Top 1,000 Reviewer), but the juggernaut dumped a lot of us who helped make them great in favor of an all-new system a few years back. Ugh.
In any event, trailer will be below. Everyone is encouraged to check it out.
Here's the film's plot summary as provided by our friends at IMDB.com:
"After the collapse of Earth's ecosystem, Vesper, a 13-year-old girl struggling to survive with her paralyzed Father, meets a mysterious Woman with a secret that forces Vesper to use her wits, strength and bio-hacking abilities to fight for the possibility of a future."
The site also asserts that the film was directed by Kristina Buozyte and Bruno Sampler (who also penned the screenplay along with assistance from Brian Clark). I recognized Buozyte's name and did a quick search: she and Bruno also wrote (and she directed) 2012's Vanishing Waves, something I've seen on home video but don't quite recall from a few years back. Seems to me it was heavy on visuals with a strong premise -- if I remember correctly, it dealt with a scientist trying to insist oneself into the consciosness of another person -- but, again, I see so much that it's occasionally hard to reconcile them all. I might do some digging in my older files to see if I can find a review of that one; I used to archive them all over at Amazon.com (in the days when I was a Top 1,000 Reviewer), but the juggernaut dumped a lot of us who helped make them great in favor of an all-new system a few years back. Ugh.
In any event, trailer will be below. Everyone is encouraged to check it out.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
-- EZ
- Published on
What’s a mouse to do?
If the internet serves as an effective barometer of anything these days (what with the proliferation of both fake news and ‘cultural impressions’ spurred by bots), Walt Disney’s The Book Of Boba Fett was received with a fair share of controversy. Despite being thrilled with the return of the galaxy’s deadliest bounty hunter, Star Wars fandom was split (to a degree) with this version: some found it a respectable next chapter in a long-loved character we truly knew very little about while others thought the writers ‘lightened up’ the severity of what could’ve been a truly adult property. Though I’ve long pointed out that fans can be extremely fickle, I certainly understand and appreciate the differences of opinion: I agreed that the end result of its seven-episode run winded up watering down Fett’s signature cool factor, I still argued that the show’s production values rivalled anything else I’d seen on TV and perhaps the creative crew could modestly correct its pervasive kid-friendly tone should future adventures arrive.
I could go on – perhaps I will as I’ve been toying with a longer critical examination of that property – but I really only bring this up to dissect the precariousness of the Walt Disney Company and Lucasfilm as it relates to yesterday’s stream of Chapter IV in the Obi-Wan Kenobi mini-series. (Are we still calling them that?)
As I’ve demonstrated in previous reviews of this program, I think it’s clear that – once again – fandom has opinions of its plausibility based upon the various interpretations of Star Wars lore. (My position is that nothing forbidding the further adventures of Ben Kenobi was definitively established, but I’d have honest reservations about the fallen Jedi Knight galivanting about the galaxy when he’s supposed to be both in hiding and guarding a young Luke Skywalker from afar.) I don’t feel the need to rehash these issues in a point/counterpoint fashion, but I do respect the differences of opinion. Art means something to each of us, and anyone feeling this narrative arc disrespects the tenets of the character should rightfully tune it out. I’ll watch … so you don’t have to.
Chapter IV picked up right after the events of Chapter III: a gravely injured Kenobi is sped off to the planet Jabiim and placed in a bacta tank to recover. When he awakens, he’s understandably distraught to find out Princess Leia has been captured by the Inquisitors and taken to Nur where they keep an operational stronghold. Kenobi and Tala enlist a few allies to mount a sneak invasion of the fortress to recover the child before it’s too late.
Curiously, this installment sees a very quick return of Kenobi to fighting form, almost so quickly that one questions why he was portrayed as so vastly weak in Chapter III. An argument could be logically proposed that the heightened sense of li’l Leia’s jeopardy served as a catalyst for the aging warrior to summon whatever fuel he had left in his unpracticed tank and do right by the Organa family … and that’s all I can really suggest. I was a complete 180 – not sure if the writers noticed – but I’m willing to chalk it up to such motivation. Otherwise? Well, I got nothing otherwise.
It's clear that a wealth of resources have been expended on making these new locations ‘feel’ comfortable within the wider universe of that galaxy far, far away. These locations – ship interiors, the Nur superstation – all look fabulous; and despite whatever reservations O.G. fans might have with the story I do hope they’ll be pleased with the aesthetics. The showrunners even manage to dust off a few items from the Original Trilogy era – Imperial comlinks, The Empire Strikes Back T-47 airspeeders, A New Hope’s pesky mouse droids, etc. – and put them to good fan service in this installment. For the record, I’m never opposed to ‘fan service’ so long as it makes sense. Maybe these were planned inclusions to push back against any plotline complaints? Only the wisest among us will truly know.
If the internet serves as an effective barometer of anything these days (what with the proliferation of both fake news and ‘cultural impressions’ spurred by bots), Walt Disney’s The Book Of Boba Fett was received with a fair share of controversy. Despite being thrilled with the return of the galaxy’s deadliest bounty hunter, Star Wars fandom was split (to a degree) with this version: some found it a respectable next chapter in a long-loved character we truly knew very little about while others thought the writers ‘lightened up’ the severity of what could’ve been a truly adult property. Though I’ve long pointed out that fans can be extremely fickle, I certainly understand and appreciate the differences of opinion: I agreed that the end result of its seven-episode run winded up watering down Fett’s signature cool factor, I still argued that the show’s production values rivalled anything else I’d seen on TV and perhaps the creative crew could modestly correct its pervasive kid-friendly tone should future adventures arrive.
I could go on – perhaps I will as I’ve been toying with a longer critical examination of that property – but I really only bring this up to dissect the precariousness of the Walt Disney Company and Lucasfilm as it relates to yesterday’s stream of Chapter IV in the Obi-Wan Kenobi mini-series. (Are we still calling them that?)
As I’ve demonstrated in previous reviews of this program, I think it’s clear that – once again – fandom has opinions of its plausibility based upon the various interpretations of Star Wars lore. (My position is that nothing forbidding the further adventures of Ben Kenobi was definitively established, but I’d have honest reservations about the fallen Jedi Knight galivanting about the galaxy when he’s supposed to be both in hiding and guarding a young Luke Skywalker from afar.) I don’t feel the need to rehash these issues in a point/counterpoint fashion, but I do respect the differences of opinion. Art means something to each of us, and anyone feeling this narrative arc disrespects the tenets of the character should rightfully tune it out. I’ll watch … so you don’t have to.
Chapter IV picked up right after the events of Chapter III: a gravely injured Kenobi is sped off to the planet Jabiim and placed in a bacta tank to recover. When he awakens, he’s understandably distraught to find out Princess Leia has been captured by the Inquisitors and taken to Nur where they keep an operational stronghold. Kenobi and Tala enlist a few allies to mount a sneak invasion of the fortress to recover the child before it’s too late.
Curiously, this installment sees a very quick return of Kenobi to fighting form, almost so quickly that one questions why he was portrayed as so vastly weak in Chapter III. An argument could be logically proposed that the heightened sense of li’l Leia’s jeopardy served as a catalyst for the aging warrior to summon whatever fuel he had left in his unpracticed tank and do right by the Organa family … and that’s all I can really suggest. I was a complete 180 – not sure if the writers noticed – but I’m willing to chalk it up to such motivation. Otherwise? Well, I got nothing otherwise.
It's clear that a wealth of resources have been expended on making these new locations ‘feel’ comfortable within the wider universe of that galaxy far, far away. These locations – ship interiors, the Nur superstation – all look fabulous; and despite whatever reservations O.G. fans might have with the story I do hope they’ll be pleased with the aesthetics. The showrunners even manage to dust off a few items from the Original Trilogy era – Imperial comlinks, The Empire Strikes Back T-47 airspeeders, A New Hope’s pesky mouse droids, etc. – and put them to good fan service in this installment. For the record, I’m never opposed to ‘fan service’ so long as it makes sense. Maybe these were planned inclusions to push back against any plotline complaints? Only the wisest among us will truly know.
There have been a lot of complaints involving Reva, the Inquisitor also known as Third Sister. (No, no, no, I’m not going to get into Walt Disney’s orchestrated campaign about racial inclusiveness because I think that’s a load of bantha poodoo.) In honesty, I have sided with those raising concerns about the portrayal and the writing surrounding the character, but kudos to all involved for actually giving the actress a fair share to do in the episode. She spends the bulk of her time paired up in the interrogation of li’l Leia, and these two new inclusions to the franchise establish a nice shared rhythm: Reva pushes for results, the child twists and turns her way back, and the back-and-forth continued. As characters, they were given the legroom necessary to come into their own; the writing was crisp and effective, as were their performances. (For what it’s worth, Reva’s still a character I see as incomplete: I’ve no real concept of her true motivations – which I believe are concealed – and I’m not convinced that was the best design. Only time – and two remaining episodes – will tell.)
Also, Tala (played by the fabulous Indira Varma) took some major steps forward in her role as a secret agent for what appears to be the early rumblings of the Rebel Alliance. Joined with Obi-Wan, she uses her clout as an Imperial officer to get them onto Nur, only to have to sacrifice that secret identity in order to complete their dangerous mission. In some ways, this felt like the subplot to a great World War II film – the Allied officer having to ‘fake his way’ behind enemy lines – and Varma proved as an actress she was amply up for the challenge. Here’s hoping she survives this series, and audiences get to see more of her in the future.
However, the installment also had a few thunderous clunks along its devious way. As I said above, Kenobi’s sudden Jedi powers resurgence came quickly, and I was expecting a bit more nuance. Tala subdues an Imperial officer and stows his unconscious body behind a very small piece of infrastructure in a cavernously large room … and, yet, no one noticed this? Are Imperials really this incompetent? (I guess the shooting accuracy of any Stormtrooper might answer that question.) In order to escort Kenobi across a spacecraft hangar staffed with what looks to be dozens of soldiers, she merely throws an old cloak around him (and li’l Leia) and, again, no one notices?
I’d also be remiss in my duties if I failed to point out how poorly the script also delivered what arguably could be the show’s greatest development.
In a kinda/sorta shocking reveal, audiences learned that the Empire didn’t only dispatch those Force users with the execution of Order 66 but also they’ve been – ahem – storing their bodies in some kind of deep freeze mortuary in Nur’s lower levels. Having been a viewer of several other Star Wars properties, I have my own opinions on why they’ve done this, but that’s what’s called an ‘informed supposition.’ Viewers entirely new to this expanded universe may be at a total loss as to why Emperor Palpatine and his evil minions might be keeping them? Are they preserving genetic material for some dark purpose? Does Darth Vader and the Emperor even know that the Inquisitors are doing this? Is this little more than a trophy collection of twisted Imperial headhunters?
The theories practically write themselves.
Yes, yes, yes! I get that it’s only a television show, and we’re supposed to have fun with it … but there’s a little something called suspension of disbelief, too, and I wasn’t entirely comfortable with some of these little bits or with some of their handling. Did they break the episode? Of course not! Did they serve as greater narrative distractions than they did organic developments? Yes, they did. Could there have possibly been better solutions? Well, that’s not my job – as a critic, I’m only paid (poorly, too) to react to what’s provided – and here’s hoping everyone behind the scenes tries a bit harder next week.
The Force remains with this one. We’ll see how strongly it is once we reach the finish.
-- EZ
Also, Tala (played by the fabulous Indira Varma) took some major steps forward in her role as a secret agent for what appears to be the early rumblings of the Rebel Alliance. Joined with Obi-Wan, she uses her clout as an Imperial officer to get them onto Nur, only to have to sacrifice that secret identity in order to complete their dangerous mission. In some ways, this felt like the subplot to a great World War II film – the Allied officer having to ‘fake his way’ behind enemy lines – and Varma proved as an actress she was amply up for the challenge. Here’s hoping she survives this series, and audiences get to see more of her in the future.
However, the installment also had a few thunderous clunks along its devious way. As I said above, Kenobi’s sudden Jedi powers resurgence came quickly, and I was expecting a bit more nuance. Tala subdues an Imperial officer and stows his unconscious body behind a very small piece of infrastructure in a cavernously large room … and, yet, no one noticed this? Are Imperials really this incompetent? (I guess the shooting accuracy of any Stormtrooper might answer that question.) In order to escort Kenobi across a spacecraft hangar staffed with what looks to be dozens of soldiers, she merely throws an old cloak around him (and li’l Leia) and, again, no one notices?
I’d also be remiss in my duties if I failed to point out how poorly the script also delivered what arguably could be the show’s greatest development.
In a kinda/sorta shocking reveal, audiences learned that the Empire didn’t only dispatch those Force users with the execution of Order 66 but also they’ve been – ahem – storing their bodies in some kind of deep freeze mortuary in Nur’s lower levels. Having been a viewer of several other Star Wars properties, I have my own opinions on why they’ve done this, but that’s what’s called an ‘informed supposition.’ Viewers entirely new to this expanded universe may be at a total loss as to why Emperor Palpatine and his evil minions might be keeping them? Are they preserving genetic material for some dark purpose? Does Darth Vader and the Emperor even know that the Inquisitors are doing this? Is this little more than a trophy collection of twisted Imperial headhunters?
The theories practically write themselves.
Yes, yes, yes! I get that it’s only a television show, and we’re supposed to have fun with it … but there’s a little something called suspension of disbelief, too, and I wasn’t entirely comfortable with some of these little bits or with some of their handling. Did they break the episode? Of course not! Did they serve as greater narrative distractions than they did organic developments? Yes, they did. Could there have possibly been better solutions? Well, that’s not my job – as a critic, I’m only paid (poorly, too) to react to what’s provided – and here’s hoping everyone behind the scenes tries a bit harder next week.
The Force remains with this one. We’ll see how strongly it is once we reach the finish.
-- EZ
- Published on
In all honestly, I've read very, very, very little about 1899, the forthcoming property from the minds who previously hatched the mostly incredible Dark series on the streaming platform ... and I'm perfectly OK with that: given how stellar I found most of Dark's run, I'd rather not much up from anticipation of this new serial with the usual fluff from marketing professionals. Suffice it to say, it looks as though it takes place at see, has a pretty big cast, and promises to yank at the yarns that hold together our delicate tapestry of time and space yet again.
Here's the series' premise as provided by IMDB.com:
"Multinational immigrants traveling from the old continent to the new encounter a nightmarish riddle aboard a second ship adrift on the open sea."
For those who missed Dark, it's honestly a hard program to pen an effective synopsis for. Essentially, it's this massive, sprawling, time travel story built around a town pretty much tied to a very unique rip in celestial fabric, giving residents a chance to dabble in the past and the future but only at certain internals. (Like I said, I'm trying not to give anything away here, and it's tough.) It presents the audience with that grand 'would you go back and change something if you could' scenario and then shows then just how easily you may've mucked everything up for you, your neighbors, and the world-at-large beyond in ways you didn't possibly conceive. I won't belabor it more than that, other than to say that the first two seasons are jaw-droppingly good; its third and final season, I thought, kinda/sorta strayed from the original formula in ways I didn't care for as much, though the showrunners still managed to tie it all up far more successfully than I believe other shows' endgames have played out. It's definitely worth the time.
In any event, the creative folks are now up-and-running on something else ... and this one looks interesting ... so I'm not gonna spoil it with dabbling in puff pieces. I'll save my investment for the actual series, and I'm hoping to be amply rewarded.
Trailer is below. You know what to do.
Here's the series' premise as provided by IMDB.com:
"Multinational immigrants traveling from the old continent to the new encounter a nightmarish riddle aboard a second ship adrift on the open sea."
For those who missed Dark, it's honestly a hard program to pen an effective synopsis for. Essentially, it's this massive, sprawling, time travel story built around a town pretty much tied to a very unique rip in celestial fabric, giving residents a chance to dabble in the past and the future but only at certain internals. (Like I said, I'm trying not to give anything away here, and it's tough.) It presents the audience with that grand 'would you go back and change something if you could' scenario and then shows then just how easily you may've mucked everything up for you, your neighbors, and the world-at-large beyond in ways you didn't possibly conceive. I won't belabor it more than that, other than to say that the first two seasons are jaw-droppingly good; its third and final season, I thought, kinda/sorta strayed from the original formula in ways I didn't care for as much, though the showrunners still managed to tie it all up far more successfully than I believe other shows' endgames have played out. It's definitely worth the time.
In any event, the creative folks are now up-and-running on something else ... and this one looks interesting ... so I'm not gonna spoil it with dabbling in puff pieces. I'll save my investment for the actual series, and I'm hoping to be amply rewarded.
Trailer is below. You know what to do.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
-- EZ
- Published on
Sometimes, success takes time.
It’s been said that there’s no such thing as an overnight success – that the inventor whose crafty device eventually lands him (or her) on history’s map toiled away for years in seclusion before being blessed with discovery – and I believe that’s true. Life can be random – sometimes a genuinely great idea gets fully realized in its time – but more often than not progress is marked by years. Blinks of inspiration are great – when they happen – but time is a harsh mistress.
And why shouldn’t it be that way? Something that can be revered in the moment can just as easily be forgotten or dismissed. Societies have a way of evening the playing field, pushing back against what they could, should, and would notice because we’re given so much to look at every single minute of our lives. Those contributions that are truly meaningful have a way of scratching, gnawing, and fighting their way to the top of time’s trash heap … and cult films shouldn’t have it any other way.
I suspect the same fate may befall Offseason. It’s a good film – not great – that showcases some rather average performances all set against the backdrop of the sleepy little seaside tourist trap. Though it’s constructed like a genuine haunted house story, the flick never quite percolates anything other than otherworldly, supernatural funk wrapped around the framework of a mother/daughter story and an old sea legend that may or may not be true.
Still, there might be enough substance in here to, eventually, keep small audiences coming back a year or two later … much in the same way those tourists sneak back to those haunts they visited yesterday. Should that happen enough, then the film may rise to the level of ‘cult,’ which I could argue it deserves. It shares a lot of similarities to 1981’s Dead & Buried – a feature that has earned its offbeat status – but the significant difference is that the older film leaves nothing left for misinterpretation, whereas Offseason’s final moment just kinda/sorta lingers …
(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:
“Upon receiving a mysterious letter that her mother’s grave site has been vandalized, Marie quickly returns to the isolated offshore island where her late mother is buried. When she arrives, she discovers that the island is closing for the offseason with the bridges raised until spring, leaving her stranded. With one strange interaction with the local townspeople after another, Marie soon realizes that something is not quite right in this small town. She must unveil the mystery behind her mother’s troubled past in order to make it out alive.”
For all intents and purposes, Offseason is exactly the kind of film that sounds like it’s going to be an exciting and wild ride, but it isn’t.
It’s been said that there’s no such thing as an overnight success – that the inventor whose crafty device eventually lands him (or her) on history’s map toiled away for years in seclusion before being blessed with discovery – and I believe that’s true. Life can be random – sometimes a genuinely great idea gets fully realized in its time – but more often than not progress is marked by years. Blinks of inspiration are great – when they happen – but time is a harsh mistress.
And why shouldn’t it be that way? Something that can be revered in the moment can just as easily be forgotten or dismissed. Societies have a way of evening the playing field, pushing back against what they could, should, and would notice because we’re given so much to look at every single minute of our lives. Those contributions that are truly meaningful have a way of scratching, gnawing, and fighting their way to the top of time’s trash heap … and cult films shouldn’t have it any other way.
I suspect the same fate may befall Offseason. It’s a good film – not great – that showcases some rather average performances all set against the backdrop of the sleepy little seaside tourist trap. Though it’s constructed like a genuine haunted house story, the flick never quite percolates anything other than otherworldly, supernatural funk wrapped around the framework of a mother/daughter story and an old sea legend that may or may not be true.
Still, there might be enough substance in here to, eventually, keep small audiences coming back a year or two later … much in the same way those tourists sneak back to those haunts they visited yesterday. Should that happen enough, then the film may rise to the level of ‘cult,’ which I could argue it deserves. It shares a lot of similarities to 1981’s Dead & Buried – a feature that has earned its offbeat status – but the significant difference is that the older film leaves nothing left for misinterpretation, whereas Offseason’s final moment just kinda/sorta lingers …
(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:
“Upon receiving a mysterious letter that her mother’s grave site has been vandalized, Marie quickly returns to the isolated offshore island where her late mother is buried. When she arrives, she discovers that the island is closing for the offseason with the bridges raised until spring, leaving her stranded. With one strange interaction with the local townspeople after another, Marie soon realizes that something is not quite right in this small town. She must unveil the mystery behind her mother’s troubled past in order to make it out alive.”
For all intents and purposes, Offseason is exactly the kind of film that sounds like it’s going to be an exciting and wild ride, but it isn’t.
This isn’t to deny that the flick has some passion to it because that would be inaccurate. Writer/director Mickey Keating has gone to great lengths capturing the unintentionally spooky little holes – tourist destinations only open for a few months a year – which effectively board up and shut down when their crop of visitors dries up. Having visited a few of them in my time – and driven around a few with parents and friends – there’s a lingering sense of ‘temporariness’ to many of them. In some cases, it’s enough to cause any man an existential crisis!
The problem with his script, however, is that he does absolutely nothing with it.
Oh, he populates it with plenty of creepy townies to give Marie (played by the lovely Jocelin Donahue) a vivid experience, and yet what should’ve been truly frightening ends up feeling a bit more confusing too often. Keating gives this coastal berg a mythical background tied to ‘the man who crawled out of the sea’ and then, largely, ignores it (budget constraints?) in order to craft plenty of long takes where we and Marie stare at the sheer nothingness draped in cinematic fog. So, yes, it all looks good, suitably quaint and equally eerie, but it all leads to the predictable showdown on a bridge (of all places!) wherein we learn that the usual curse must be fulfilled … or else.
To make matters worse, Marie doesn’t always act out with a true sense of purpose or logic. After waking up from a minor car crash only to learn her boyfriend/driver is gone from the vehicle, she gives up searching for him or his body after a few moments and simply runs back to town. She then spends the bulk of her screen time never authentically looking for this seemingly important person in her life, only to be surprised and unmoved when he merely shows up waiting for her on the bridge in the second half. (Guys, I don’t know about you, but that’s not a relationship I’d want to be in.)
While it might be easy to dismiss Marie’s lack of concern because she’s suddenly found herself in a Horror movie, I’ve never taken that bait. Though characters are tied intrinsically to the logic of the feature, they also are required to behave in a fashion that makes sense; otherwise, there’s no way for us to identify with them. Lacking that connection, their plight means little or nothing – well, except for a few effective jump scares that come with the packaging – and we’re detached non-participants when any movie’s purposes is to reel us in.
Because I couldn’t identify with Marie, her journey was just that: her journey. I didn’t take it with her. I watched from afar. I marveled from a distance. I wasn’t drawn in. Instead, I sat on the sidelines crying out for her to do things differently … or logically. (Mystery Science Theatre 3000 created an entire TV phenomenon out of some sarcastic knuckleheads doing just that same thing; and I can hear them merrily torching Offseason now!) But that’s the canard so easily attached to horror films – no behaves reasonably. If they did, then they wouldn’t be here.
Though the picture has some teeth, I can see why it never quite took a bite out of the box office. The struggle here is far more psychological in nature than it is visual. Its performances are all a bit predictable if not expected (you’ve seen one creepy townie, you’ve seen them all). I think – like heading out for a vacation destination – most people see where they’re headed, and this picture is no different. Though occasionally effective – also like that dream vacation – there’s still an awful lot of fluff.
Offseason (2021) was produced by Defiant Studios, Kodiak Pictures, and Sunset Junction Entertainment. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable RLJE Films. As for the technical specifications? The film looks and sounds very good; it’s probably worth a word of caution to let some audiences know that those extra creepy sounds you’re hearing on the soundtrack are intentionally part of the frightening experience. As for the special features? Alas … there isn’t a single one … and that’s a big miss so far as this film junkie is concerned. If you don’t care enough to give us something extra, then why should we? Sigh.
Mildly recommended.
If I’m being kind (and I do so often try), the Offseason (2021) might be the kind of film that requires a passage of years to truly find its audience. Director Keating goes to great lengths (maybe too much?) to establish a particular milieu in which to place his scary movie, and, ultimately, audiences will likely struggle with whether or not the measly payoff for their patience was good enough. So far as this reviewer is concerned, it wasn’t … but diff’rent strokes for diff’rent folks.
In the interest of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at RLJE Films and Shudder provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Offseason (2021) 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 problem with his script, however, is that he does absolutely nothing with it.
Oh, he populates it with plenty of creepy townies to give Marie (played by the lovely Jocelin Donahue) a vivid experience, and yet what should’ve been truly frightening ends up feeling a bit more confusing too often. Keating gives this coastal berg a mythical background tied to ‘the man who crawled out of the sea’ and then, largely, ignores it (budget constraints?) in order to craft plenty of long takes where we and Marie stare at the sheer nothingness draped in cinematic fog. So, yes, it all looks good, suitably quaint and equally eerie, but it all leads to the predictable showdown on a bridge (of all places!) wherein we learn that the usual curse must be fulfilled … or else.
To make matters worse, Marie doesn’t always act out with a true sense of purpose or logic. After waking up from a minor car crash only to learn her boyfriend/driver is gone from the vehicle, she gives up searching for him or his body after a few moments and simply runs back to town. She then spends the bulk of her screen time never authentically looking for this seemingly important person in her life, only to be surprised and unmoved when he merely shows up waiting for her on the bridge in the second half. (Guys, I don’t know about you, but that’s not a relationship I’d want to be in.)
While it might be easy to dismiss Marie’s lack of concern because she’s suddenly found herself in a Horror movie, I’ve never taken that bait. Though characters are tied intrinsically to the logic of the feature, they also are required to behave in a fashion that makes sense; otherwise, there’s no way for us to identify with them. Lacking that connection, their plight means little or nothing – well, except for a few effective jump scares that come with the packaging – and we’re detached non-participants when any movie’s purposes is to reel us in.
Because I couldn’t identify with Marie, her journey was just that: her journey. I didn’t take it with her. I watched from afar. I marveled from a distance. I wasn’t drawn in. Instead, I sat on the sidelines crying out for her to do things differently … or logically. (Mystery Science Theatre 3000 created an entire TV phenomenon out of some sarcastic knuckleheads doing just that same thing; and I can hear them merrily torching Offseason now!) But that’s the canard so easily attached to horror films – no behaves reasonably. If they did, then they wouldn’t be here.
Though the picture has some teeth, I can see why it never quite took a bite out of the box office. The struggle here is far more psychological in nature than it is visual. Its performances are all a bit predictable if not expected (you’ve seen one creepy townie, you’ve seen them all). I think – like heading out for a vacation destination – most people see where they’re headed, and this picture is no different. Though occasionally effective – also like that dream vacation – there’s still an awful lot of fluff.
Offseason (2021) was produced by Defiant Studios, Kodiak Pictures, and Sunset Junction Entertainment. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable RLJE Films. As for the technical specifications? The film looks and sounds very good; it’s probably worth a word of caution to let some audiences know that those extra creepy sounds you’re hearing on the soundtrack are intentionally part of the frightening experience. As for the special features? Alas … there isn’t a single one … and that’s a big miss so far as this film junkie is concerned. If you don’t care enough to give us something extra, then why should we? Sigh.
Mildly recommended.
If I’m being kind (and I do so often try), the Offseason (2021) might be the kind of film that requires a passage of years to truly find its audience. Director Keating goes to great lengths (maybe too much?) to establish a particular milieu in which to place his scary movie, and, ultimately, audiences will likely struggle with whether or not the measly payoff for their patience was good enough. So far as this reviewer is concerned, it wasn’t … but diff’rent strokes for diff’rent folks.
In the interest of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at RLJE Films and Shudder provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Offseason (2021) 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
Yes, I do so have a fondness for haunted house stories.
I could probably go on-and-on about what I like about them, but – generally speaking – it all essentially boils down to one key element: in my estimation, a really good haunted house only truly dabbles in Horror. Blood streaming from the walls will only get me all up in arms if its done both creatively and purposefully; and too many storytellers just think you can throw one bizarre sequence after enough to keep your audiences’ blood pressure up. That’s wrong – at least, with me it is – because it’s the psychological aspect that frightens me more than anything else.
I must be forced to ask myself – on more than one occasion in a single viewing – just what in the Holy Hell is going on here?
That’s what genuinely tickles me. It’s Horror – only in that it’s marginally horrific – but more often than not it’s the idea these filmed exercises prick up in my subconscious. It might be novel or inventive, but it must pull me intellectually into the flick. It has to make my brain go in different directions, forcing me to cognitively examine this puzzle (much like its players do), egging me on to try to figure out what spectral entity could be lurking in the dark behind all of this … and hoping (against hope) that there’s a means to bring it all to an end.
Yeah, ghosts are cool. Sure, demons bring something fun to the party. But I need to be challenged to put it all together: otherwise, it’s a fruitless experience.
2022’s The Cellar has a lot of the right elements, so much so that I’m kinda/sorta surprised I didn’t hear more about it during its original run through theaters. Then I remember that my particular thirst for the classic haunted house story isn’t what mainstream audiences generally gravitate toward – I don’t think most folks go in for cerebral calisthenics, not so much as they do jump scares, dripping blood, and furniture and appliances coming to life – and, perhaps, I’m not so surprised. Its script makes you think about the pieces a bit too much … and thought has a way of grinding some movement to a halt.
Plus … who really wants to live in a world where event spectral entities are ruled by math?
(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:
“After Keira Woods’ daughter mysteriously vanishes in the cellar of their new house, she discovers there is an ancient and powerful entity controlling their home. She must face the ultimate evil or risk losing her family’s souls forever.”
For my tastes, 1980’s The Changeling has one of filmdom’s best fright sequences. It doesn’t involve blood. It doesn’t involve gore. It’s the kind of scene that really only hints at the powers of the supernatural and does so in a way that makes you think about what’s truly possible.
George C. Scott plays a man who has tragically lost his wife and daughter in the picture, and what matters most to the pivotal scene in this bouncing ball his little girl used to play with. One night while he’s consoling himself with quiet, the ball simply comes bouncing down the master staircase all on its own. (FYI: he thought he’d had it tucked away in this little chest of mementos.) Distraught over seeing it again, he drives to the city and drops the ball into the drink far below. When he returns home and stands inside at the front door, what is it that greets him but that same bouncing ball coming to rest yet again at the base of the stairs … this time soaking wet?
I could probably go on-and-on about what I like about them, but – generally speaking – it all essentially boils down to one key element: in my estimation, a really good haunted house only truly dabbles in Horror. Blood streaming from the walls will only get me all up in arms if its done both creatively and purposefully; and too many storytellers just think you can throw one bizarre sequence after enough to keep your audiences’ blood pressure up. That’s wrong – at least, with me it is – because it’s the psychological aspect that frightens me more than anything else.
I must be forced to ask myself – on more than one occasion in a single viewing – just what in the Holy Hell is going on here?
That’s what genuinely tickles me. It’s Horror – only in that it’s marginally horrific – but more often than not it’s the idea these filmed exercises prick up in my subconscious. It might be novel or inventive, but it must pull me intellectually into the flick. It has to make my brain go in different directions, forcing me to cognitively examine this puzzle (much like its players do), egging me on to try to figure out what spectral entity could be lurking in the dark behind all of this … and hoping (against hope) that there’s a means to bring it all to an end.
Yeah, ghosts are cool. Sure, demons bring something fun to the party. But I need to be challenged to put it all together: otherwise, it’s a fruitless experience.
2022’s The Cellar has a lot of the right elements, so much so that I’m kinda/sorta surprised I didn’t hear more about it during its original run through theaters. Then I remember that my particular thirst for the classic haunted house story isn’t what mainstream audiences generally gravitate toward – I don’t think most folks go in for cerebral calisthenics, not so much as they do jump scares, dripping blood, and furniture and appliances coming to life – and, perhaps, I’m not so surprised. Its script makes you think about the pieces a bit too much … and thought has a way of grinding some movement to a halt.
Plus … who really wants to live in a world where event spectral entities are ruled by math?
(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:
“After Keira Woods’ daughter mysteriously vanishes in the cellar of their new house, she discovers there is an ancient and powerful entity controlling their home. She must face the ultimate evil or risk losing her family’s souls forever.”
For my tastes, 1980’s The Changeling has one of filmdom’s best fright sequences. It doesn’t involve blood. It doesn’t involve gore. It’s the kind of scene that really only hints at the powers of the supernatural and does so in a way that makes you think about what’s truly possible.
George C. Scott plays a man who has tragically lost his wife and daughter in the picture, and what matters most to the pivotal scene in this bouncing ball his little girl used to play with. One night while he’s consoling himself with quiet, the ball simply comes bouncing down the master staircase all on its own. (FYI: he thought he’d had it tucked away in this little chest of mementos.) Distraught over seeing it again, he drives to the city and drops the ball into the drink far below. When he returns home and stands inside at the front door, what is it that greets him but that same bouncing ball coming to rest yet again at the base of the stairs … this time soaking wet?
See, that’s what I find scary, and The Cellar – in several creative ways – kinda/sorta taps into the same ethereal vibe, even with a scene all of its own with (you guessed it!) a bouncing child’s ball. Writer/director Brendan Muldowney taps into that same nerve, taking you on a tour of this creepy old haunt of a place through the eyes of its handful of characters. Just what are those symbols carved in wood over the doorways? Why is it that someone thought to carve numbers and a mathematical equation into the stairs and the basement floor? And why is it that the cellar seems to have a door with a mind all of its own?
These are the questions that wrap viewers up in smart tales of haunted houses. This is a film without bloodshed, nor is it one resplendent with a bunch of brilliant colors and pyrotechnic displays. Candlelight flickers and abacus nubs that move all by themselves is what awaits anyone who ventures into these corners; thus, the tale requires a modicum of patience before some strategic reveals legitimately point in the direction of a past physics genius – the previous owner – and what his true secondary pursuits may have been.
As a consequence – that this one isn’t as easily deciphered the way some flicks are – I suspect audiences will look poorly upon what few dark delights are in these 90+ minutes. They’re a bit imperfect – the final reel’s descent is a bit laughable if you haven’t truly bought into the possibilities the story posits – but I found them plausible … except for one moment that relies on a bit too much convenience. (No, I won’t spoil it, but you may know it when you see it.)
Performances are good, at best. Elisha Cuthbert is the known commodity here; and I’ve never quite gotten over seeing her a young ‘Kim Bauer’ from Fox TV’s exceptional action series 24. She handles much of what she’s tasked with here, though the visible emotional attachment to her children never quite rang true with me. Her husband Brian (Eoin Macken) is never given enough to do as a partner and peer, seeming a bit too disinterested in the lives of his family as he is the future of their private business. Aaron Monaghan (as ‘Dr. Fournet’) doesn’t appear until the second half; he’s very good as the academic who might hold some keys to understanding the central mysteries. Quirky and a bit eccentric, it’s an all-too-slim supporting role that deserved a bit more to do as it’s his speeches that help give the material a life beyond the scripted words. Both Cuthbert and Macken were just too reserved – my two cents – so more of that quirky edge might’ve done wonders for a different completed project.
Still, if you like legitimate haunted house stories – the kinds I’ve described above – then I’d offer that The Cellar is a trip worth taking. Albeit a bit slow – and requiring a pretty bit suspension of disbelief for where it all takes you – there’s a brief hint of freshness that just might send a chill up your spine and have you looking at every corner of the next old house you visit for like-minded signs.
Besides: if anyone ever told you math couldn’t kill you, this film proves them wrong. Definitively.
Math. It’s Satan’s business.
The Cellar (2022) was produced by Fís Éireann / Screen Ireland, Epic Pictures Group, and a handful of other participants. (If those matters interest you, then you can find the full listing of companies on IMDB.com.) DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated via RLJE Films. As for the technical specifications? The flick looks and sounds fabulous from start-to-finish; for some reason, I found the audio a bit ‘wonky’ in one sequence – I ended up figuring out it was a weird sound effect (this was clarified by the subtitle). Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then you’re in for a good treat: along with cast and crew interviews, there’s a director’s commentary track, a featurette involving the visual effects (meh), and a short film (from director Muldowney) which clearly serves as the picture’s grounding inspiration. Well done, folks! That’s actually a nice collection for fans.
Recommended. Hey, storytellers? You needn’t have gone to all this trouble to teach mankind about the dangers of math. High school calculus teachers have been doing that for years. Still, The Cellar has a nice vibe to it, despite being a tad long and a bit unfocused in its second half. Performances work – though I expected a bit more from Cuthbert in the emoting department – and occasional the film feels like a welcome reinvigoration of the whole haunted house idea. I’m just not sure there was enough legitimate thrills for this one to – ahem – add up (wink wink) to more than a passing flirtation.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at RLJE Films and Shudder provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Cellar (2022) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
These are the questions that wrap viewers up in smart tales of haunted houses. This is a film without bloodshed, nor is it one resplendent with a bunch of brilliant colors and pyrotechnic displays. Candlelight flickers and abacus nubs that move all by themselves is what awaits anyone who ventures into these corners; thus, the tale requires a modicum of patience before some strategic reveals legitimately point in the direction of a past physics genius – the previous owner – and what his true secondary pursuits may have been.
As a consequence – that this one isn’t as easily deciphered the way some flicks are – I suspect audiences will look poorly upon what few dark delights are in these 90+ minutes. They’re a bit imperfect – the final reel’s descent is a bit laughable if you haven’t truly bought into the possibilities the story posits – but I found them plausible … except for one moment that relies on a bit too much convenience. (No, I won’t spoil it, but you may know it when you see it.)
Performances are good, at best. Elisha Cuthbert is the known commodity here; and I’ve never quite gotten over seeing her a young ‘Kim Bauer’ from Fox TV’s exceptional action series 24. She handles much of what she’s tasked with here, though the visible emotional attachment to her children never quite rang true with me. Her husband Brian (Eoin Macken) is never given enough to do as a partner and peer, seeming a bit too disinterested in the lives of his family as he is the future of their private business. Aaron Monaghan (as ‘Dr. Fournet’) doesn’t appear until the second half; he’s very good as the academic who might hold some keys to understanding the central mysteries. Quirky and a bit eccentric, it’s an all-too-slim supporting role that deserved a bit more to do as it’s his speeches that help give the material a life beyond the scripted words. Both Cuthbert and Macken were just too reserved – my two cents – so more of that quirky edge might’ve done wonders for a different completed project.
Still, if you like legitimate haunted house stories – the kinds I’ve described above – then I’d offer that The Cellar is a trip worth taking. Albeit a bit slow – and requiring a pretty bit suspension of disbelief for where it all takes you – there’s a brief hint of freshness that just might send a chill up your spine and have you looking at every corner of the next old house you visit for like-minded signs.
Besides: if anyone ever told you math couldn’t kill you, this film proves them wrong. Definitively.
Math. It’s Satan’s business.
The Cellar (2022) was produced by Fís Éireann / Screen Ireland, Epic Pictures Group, and a handful of other participants. (If those matters interest you, then you can find the full listing of companies on IMDB.com.) DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated via RLJE Films. As for the technical specifications? The flick looks and sounds fabulous from start-to-finish; for some reason, I found the audio a bit ‘wonky’ in one sequence – I ended up figuring out it was a weird sound effect (this was clarified by the subtitle). Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then you’re in for a good treat: along with cast and crew interviews, there’s a director’s commentary track, a featurette involving the visual effects (meh), and a short film (from director Muldowney) which clearly serves as the picture’s grounding inspiration. Well done, folks! That’s actually a nice collection for fans.
Recommended. Hey, storytellers? You needn’t have gone to all this trouble to teach mankind about the dangers of math. High school calculus teachers have been doing that for years. Still, The Cellar has a nice vibe to it, despite being a tad long and a bit unfocused in its second half. Performances work – though I expected a bit more from Cuthbert in the emoting department – and occasional the film feels like a welcome reinvigoration of the whole haunted house idea. I’m just not sure there was enough legitimate thrills for this one to – ahem – add up (wink wink) to more than a passing flirtation.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at RLJE Films and Shudder provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Cellar (2022) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
Here’s my feel-good observation for the day: I’ve actually read the Gaston Leroux novel upon which so many adaptations of The Phantom Of The Opera are based.
Yea, me!
Of course, the downside to that is I don’t much remember it very distinctly. It was the 1990’s, and I was on a tear reading classics as part of an annual challenge. The book had been recommended to me by someone whom I worked with (I honestly don’t recall that, either, at this juncture), so I picked it up at the local bookstore and waded through it. (FYI: I’m a slow reader.) I do remember liking it quite a bit, and my initial impressions were that it wasn’t at all what I expected. The novel has a more classical structure – if I remember correctly, it may even have been told through a series of correspondences between multiple characters – and the much lauded ‘phantom’ is really only what I thought to be a supporting player. Now that I’ve seen this theatrical version, I’m inclined to pull the book out and read it again at some later date; if I do, perhaps I’ll even do one of those book-to-screen comparison bits should I find it a worthy exercise.
As a film nut, I have seen a good handful of Dario Argento’s works. While I wouldn’t claim to be a huge fan, I’d agree that he has a unique style that deserves greater study. I’ve also read that the films of his later years – late 1980’s and beyond – are not regarded as highly as what came before. Though I’ve not performed any kind of comparative assessment of precisely why this is, I’d honestly chalk some of that up to the fact that when you’re regarding as a master of Horror (as he is) it grows increasingly difficult to raise the bar, especially when you started out in fairly good territory. Perhaps Phantom was a bit too high brow for Argento’s stylistic sensibilities, but far be it from me to pass judgment on one of Italy’s more influential storytellers.
Instead, I’ll stick to what I made of this melodrama.
(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:
“Gory remake of the Gaston Leroux classic story, only this time, the phantom is not disfigured, but a man who was raised by rats deep under the Paris Opera House.”
Yea, me!
Of course, the downside to that is I don’t much remember it very distinctly. It was the 1990’s, and I was on a tear reading classics as part of an annual challenge. The book had been recommended to me by someone whom I worked with (I honestly don’t recall that, either, at this juncture), so I picked it up at the local bookstore and waded through it. (FYI: I’m a slow reader.) I do remember liking it quite a bit, and my initial impressions were that it wasn’t at all what I expected. The novel has a more classical structure – if I remember correctly, it may even have been told through a series of correspondences between multiple characters – and the much lauded ‘phantom’ is really only what I thought to be a supporting player. Now that I’ve seen this theatrical version, I’m inclined to pull the book out and read it again at some later date; if I do, perhaps I’ll even do one of those book-to-screen comparison bits should I find it a worthy exercise.
As a film nut, I have seen a good handful of Dario Argento’s works. While I wouldn’t claim to be a huge fan, I’d agree that he has a unique style that deserves greater study. I’ve also read that the films of his later years – late 1980’s and beyond – are not regarded as highly as what came before. Though I’ve not performed any kind of comparative assessment of precisely why this is, I’d honestly chalk some of that up to the fact that when you’re regarding as a master of Horror (as he is) it grows increasingly difficult to raise the bar, especially when you started out in fairly good territory. Perhaps Phantom was a bit too high brow for Argento’s stylistic sensibilities, but far be it from me to pass judgment on one of Italy’s more influential storytellers.
Instead, I’ll stick to what I made of this melodrama.
(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:
“Gory remake of the Gaston Leroux classic story, only this time, the phantom is not disfigured, but a man who was raised by rats deep under the Paris Opera House.”
Yes, you read that right: Argento’s take on the Phantom is that – like Tarzan was raised by the apes – he’s a man raised by rats. Rats! Like Tarzan, the Phantom (as played here by Julian Sands) is a somewhat lithe, athletic figure, one clearly meant more for romance and dancing than he is … well … the life of a man raised by rats in the gutter. (Yes, I keep coming back to these damn rats.) Perhaps given the fact that these rats live under a famed opera house adds credence to the idea that they’re far from the ordinary run-of-the-streets rats … but rats with culture? Style? Intelligence?
Well, we’re never told enough about these rodents, but we are shown in the film’s opening sequence an abandoned infant in a basket floating down the sewers only to be saved from drowning by one particular strong swimming rat. The child is taken from the water and – ahem – I guess raised. By rats. A whole colony of them. From a child into adulthood. Somewhere along the way, the boy grew into a young man with exceptional hygiene, even learned to play the pipe organ from … well … someone … maybe the rats. The particulars are never clear.
Like all of the other silver screen Phantoms, this one has a grand subterranean lair, complete with some reasonably extravagant furnishings (especially for being just to the left of the sewers). And apparently those rats have taught him to use his powers of persuasion to woo and seduce the lovely Christine (played by Asia Argento, the auteur’s equally lovely daughter). There are hints that the Phantom has some otherworldly gifts – the power of mental suggestion, the ability to send a chill into a particular space – but none of that really does much more than add a bit of Gothic mystery to this otherwise slow chiller. (Did the rats buy all that furniture, his clothes, and the organ? Did they teach him how to project his thoughts mentally? I’m really struggling with the rat storyline …)
I’m not one to grouse on screen talent – it’s a tough life, they say – but Asia never quite fit the role so far as this reviewer is concerned.
Perhaps having seen her work in more intense stories, her take on Christine vacillates between ‘dreamy’ and ‘confused’ a bit too often. (As could also be the case, some of the nuance may be lost in translation as this is an Italian-language piece.) Torn between two lovers, Asia comes off as a bit too easily smitten than to be believed, at first relegating her less rat-centric suitor Baron Raoul De Chagny (Andrea Di Stefano) to the ‘friends only’ moniker though she very easily upgrades him to the ‘friends with benefits’ column with little narrative blowback … nor any real cause. He’s not what she wants, then he is, then he’s not, and then it’s as if she wants both men … and they seemingly agree. I suppose it’s the setting and circumstance that has her all a bit woozy (women do so love the opera, I’m told).
Still, because it’s all left up to me to figure out, I’m a bit at a loss regarding what to make of it.
Well, we’re never told enough about these rodents, but we are shown in the film’s opening sequence an abandoned infant in a basket floating down the sewers only to be saved from drowning by one particular strong swimming rat. The child is taken from the water and – ahem – I guess raised. By rats. A whole colony of them. From a child into adulthood. Somewhere along the way, the boy grew into a young man with exceptional hygiene, even learned to play the pipe organ from … well … someone … maybe the rats. The particulars are never clear.
Like all of the other silver screen Phantoms, this one has a grand subterranean lair, complete with some reasonably extravagant furnishings (especially for being just to the left of the sewers). And apparently those rats have taught him to use his powers of persuasion to woo and seduce the lovely Christine (played by Asia Argento, the auteur’s equally lovely daughter). There are hints that the Phantom has some otherworldly gifts – the power of mental suggestion, the ability to send a chill into a particular space – but none of that really does much more than add a bit of Gothic mystery to this otherwise slow chiller. (Did the rats buy all that furniture, his clothes, and the organ? Did they teach him how to project his thoughts mentally? I’m really struggling with the rat storyline …)
I’m not one to grouse on screen talent – it’s a tough life, they say – but Asia never quite fit the role so far as this reviewer is concerned.
Perhaps having seen her work in more intense stories, her take on Christine vacillates between ‘dreamy’ and ‘confused’ a bit too often. (As could also be the case, some of the nuance may be lost in translation as this is an Italian-language piece.) Torn between two lovers, Asia comes off as a bit too easily smitten than to be believed, at first relegating her less rat-centric suitor Baron Raoul De Chagny (Andrea Di Stefano) to the ‘friends only’ moniker though she very easily upgrades him to the ‘friends with benefits’ column with little narrative blowback … nor any real cause. He’s not what she wants, then he is, then he’s not, and then it’s as if she wants both men … and they seemingly agree. I suppose it’s the setting and circumstance that has her all a bit woozy (women do so love the opera, I’m told).
Still, because it’s all left up to me to figure out, I’m a bit at a loss regarding what to make of it.
For me, characters don’t exactly make a story. They should be natural extensions of the story as told. They should have understandable motivations, desires, and aspirations that make sense within the larger world depicted. Argento’s Phantom never quite hammers out who all of these people are, perhaps instead hoping that the audience’s familiarity with the original story will have them filling in the holes created by an inferior interpretation. Still, the only player in all of this whose life mission makes perfect sense is the opera’s exterminator: his life’s pursuit is catching and killing rats, and – given the context of his world – that mission makes perfect sense. But the Phantom? Raoul? And Christine? Well, perhaps they’re all too wrapped up in the classic love triangle to act the way viewers expect … but I do wish I understood what the lady really wanted from all of this before the credits rolled in the big finish.
And what’s gonna happen with all of those rats?
The Phantom Of The Opera (1998) was produced by Medusa Film, Reteitalia, Cine 2000, and La Presidenza del Consiglio dei Ministri. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated via Scorpion Releasing. As for the technical specifications? It all looks and sounds quite good, though there was one brief sequence (relating to the structural tragedy in the opera itself) that’s loaded with grain; I suspect whatever source was used was equally poor to begin with. As for the special features? There are a handful of interviews – along with a commentary track from critics Troy Howarth and Nathaniel Thompson – for those looking for extras: a good assortment that’ll keep you busy for awhile.
Mildly recommended. It’s safe to say that this incarnation of the Gaston Leroux isn’t entirely awful, though I’d be hard pressed to present a complete list of why it deserves to be widely seen. It’s faithful to the novel in ways other features haven’t been, but it likely diverges from what viewers expect when they show up at the door. There’s no singular breakout performance in here; and even the ensemble doesn’t quite come together as strongly as they could have. I suspect it’s perhaps best left to Argento purists – they might find some of the mildly gratuitous violence and blood squeezed in here a bit more necessary than I did – but I’d question just how interested in this loose bodice-ripping romance might be for them. (Honestly, even that’s fairly tame … as bodice-ripping goes.)
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Scorpion Releasing provided me with a Blu-ray of The Phantom Of The Opera (1998) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
And what’s gonna happen with all of those rats?
The Phantom Of The Opera (1998) was produced by Medusa Film, Reteitalia, Cine 2000, and La Presidenza del Consiglio dei Ministri. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated via Scorpion Releasing. As for the technical specifications? It all looks and sounds quite good, though there was one brief sequence (relating to the structural tragedy in the opera itself) that’s loaded with grain; I suspect whatever source was used was equally poor to begin with. As for the special features? There are a handful of interviews – along with a commentary track from critics Troy Howarth and Nathaniel Thompson – for those looking for extras: a good assortment that’ll keep you busy for awhile.
Mildly recommended. It’s safe to say that this incarnation of the Gaston Leroux isn’t entirely awful, though I’d be hard pressed to present a complete list of why it deserves to be widely seen. It’s faithful to the novel in ways other features haven’t been, but it likely diverges from what viewers expect when they show up at the door. There’s no singular breakout performance in here; and even the ensemble doesn’t quite come together as strongly as they could have. I suspect it’s perhaps best left to Argento purists – they might find some of the mildly gratuitous violence and blood squeezed in here a bit more necessary than I did – but I’d question just how interested in this loose bodice-ripping romance might be for them. (Honestly, even that’s fairly tame … as bodice-ripping goes.)
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Scorpion Releasing provided me with a Blu-ray of The Phantom Of The Opera (1998) 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