- Published on
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com citation:
“A couple spend eternity in a castle until their reality starts to shift, as the unknown moves into their lives.”
A number of years back, I was invited by a distributor to screen and review a film about a very popular pin-up girl from the 1950’s.
What the producer had done was creative: he had paid a screenwriter to craft a loose story about the woman’s life, bringing to life the odd assortment of irregulars she had surrounded herself with during a certain period of her days. While a clever mechanism, the tale suffered – so far as I see it – from the fact that it really had no true purpose: instead, it was just a mishmash peeling back the layers of these weird hangers-on, and the film moved from one to the next with no rhyme nor reason.
When my review wasn’t flattering (extremely low production quality and the lack of any real cohesiveness made for a decidedly awful 90 minutes), the producer actually reached out to me, asking me to remove my comments from all of the places I (at that time) posted reviews. (FYI: mine wasn’t the only negative assessment, so I’m thinking this guy was really busy!) When I asked why I would do that, his logic was this: “My film was intended only for fans of [pin-up queen], which you clearly aren’t, so you don’t understand it.”
In some ways, his perspective speaks to my take on Dawn Breaks Behind The Eyes.
Films like it – in my humble opinion – feel as if they were conceived and produced for one audience almost exclusively … and this would be the kind of person who watches a feature solely for the purpose of ascribing it some kind of scholarly meaning. It’s an exercise for which ‘the right mind’ reaches some inspired conclusion. Then, these viewers get together to discuss the highs and lows of their impressions, rather than discuss the actual motion picture itself. Think of it like a filmgoers’ ‘book club,’ and you get the idea.
From the film’s IMDB.com citation:
“A couple spend eternity in a castle until their reality starts to shift, as the unknown moves into their lives.”
A number of years back, I was invited by a distributor to screen and review a film about a very popular pin-up girl from the 1950’s.
What the producer had done was creative: he had paid a screenwriter to craft a loose story about the woman’s life, bringing to life the odd assortment of irregulars she had surrounded herself with during a certain period of her days. While a clever mechanism, the tale suffered – so far as I see it – from the fact that it really had no true purpose: instead, it was just a mishmash peeling back the layers of these weird hangers-on, and the film moved from one to the next with no rhyme nor reason.
When my review wasn’t flattering (extremely low production quality and the lack of any real cohesiveness made for a decidedly awful 90 minutes), the producer actually reached out to me, asking me to remove my comments from all of the places I (at that time) posted reviews. (FYI: mine wasn’t the only negative assessment, so I’m thinking this guy was really busy!) When I asked why I would do that, his logic was this: “My film was intended only for fans of [pin-up queen], which you clearly aren’t, so you don’t understand it.”
In some ways, his perspective speaks to my take on Dawn Breaks Behind The Eyes.
Films like it – in my humble opinion – feel as if they were conceived and produced for one audience almost exclusively … and this would be the kind of person who watches a feature solely for the purpose of ascribing it some kind of scholarly meaning. It’s an exercise for which ‘the right mind’ reaches some inspired conclusion. Then, these viewers get together to discuss the highs and lows of their impressions, rather than discuss the actual motion picture itself. Think of it like a filmgoers’ ‘book club,’ and you get the idea.
For what it’s worth, Dawn Breaks doesn’t feel like a story so much as it does an observation on storytelling. While there is a tale in here – one involving a wronged woman, a lascivious man, and maybe (maybe) a pair of reflective angels – the affair is entirely constructed around the whole ‘make of this what you will’ perspective. Historically, I tend to reject this kind of art when it obviously forces me to make a conclusion; I’d rather you – as a storyteller – tell me a story … and then I’ll decide on my own what to make of it. When you force a reaction, I’m inclined to look elsewhere. That’s just how I am, so perhaps I’m not the best person to give an honest opinion of this.
But because I’ve invested the time with it, I will say that its performances are solid. There are a few roles that end up being a bit stereotypical – the cheating man scenario has been played out to death in film long ago – and, still, this otherworldly element that suggests ‘all is being observed from afar’ gives it just enough artistic elegance to keep my attention. The shifting narrative doesn’t draw me in the way I suspect was anticipated, but – once the credits roll – it is what it is. It hints at some Gothic sensibilities in a creative way – I’ve also read that it’s meant to be an affectionate nod to European cinema of the 1960’s and 1970’s … in which case the folks who might truly appreciate it are going to make up a small subset of the moviegoing crowd.
Either you like this stylish commentary, or you don’t.
Either way, it’s still not traditional Horror. Like art films do, it absconds the Horror elements to reel you in.
Lastly, I’d be remiss in my duties if I failed to point out that the film has been the recipient of some praise on the film festival circuit. IMDB.com denotes that – to date – it has received an incredible nine different wins (along with a few other additional nominations). I don’t find this surprising in the slightest as Dawn Breaks is exactly the kind of exercise film festivals love to showcase. It definitely gives that crowd plenty to discuss.
Dawn Breaks Behind The Eyes (2021) was produced by Crossbones GmbH and Sylenteye Films. From what I’ve read, the film is available on all major VOD platforms beginning June 24.
Mildly recommended.
Like life, Dawn Breaks Behind The Eyes (2021) is but isn’t a Horror film. More than anything, it’s an artistic commentary on the life of the artistic – meaning it’s a bit self-indulgent in ways that mostly film aficionados, cinema intellectuals, and academics truly appreciate but the masses-at-large end up feeling kinda/sorta lost in its narrative trickery. If you want to enjoy a bit of reflection on the process of storytelling, this one’s for you; if you’re looking for authentic Horror without a trippy perspective, you won’t find it here. Some nice ideas, true … but nice ideas don’t always translate to film efficiently.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Sapkar Public Relations provided me with complimentary screening access to Dawn Breaks Behind The Eyes (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
But because I’ve invested the time with it, I will say that its performances are solid. There are a few roles that end up being a bit stereotypical – the cheating man scenario has been played out to death in film long ago – and, still, this otherworldly element that suggests ‘all is being observed from afar’ gives it just enough artistic elegance to keep my attention. The shifting narrative doesn’t draw me in the way I suspect was anticipated, but – once the credits roll – it is what it is. It hints at some Gothic sensibilities in a creative way – I’ve also read that it’s meant to be an affectionate nod to European cinema of the 1960’s and 1970’s … in which case the folks who might truly appreciate it are going to make up a small subset of the moviegoing crowd.
Either you like this stylish commentary, or you don’t.
Either way, it’s still not traditional Horror. Like art films do, it absconds the Horror elements to reel you in.
Lastly, I’d be remiss in my duties if I failed to point out that the film has been the recipient of some praise on the film festival circuit. IMDB.com denotes that – to date – it has received an incredible nine different wins (along with a few other additional nominations). I don’t find this surprising in the slightest as Dawn Breaks is exactly the kind of exercise film festivals love to showcase. It definitely gives that crowd plenty to discuss.
Dawn Breaks Behind The Eyes (2021) was produced by Crossbones GmbH and Sylenteye Films. From what I’ve read, the film is available on all major VOD platforms beginning June 24.
Mildly recommended.
Like life, Dawn Breaks Behind The Eyes (2021) is but isn’t a Horror film. More than anything, it’s an artistic commentary on the life of the artistic – meaning it’s a bit self-indulgent in ways that mostly film aficionados, cinema intellectuals, and academics truly appreciate but the masses-at-large end up feeling kinda/sorta lost in its narrative trickery. If you want to enjoy a bit of reflection on the process of storytelling, this one’s for you; if you’re looking for authentic Horror without a trippy perspective, you won’t find it here. Some nice ideas, true … but nice ideas don’t always translate to film efficiently.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Sapkar Public Relations provided me with complimentary screening access to Dawn Breaks Behind The Eyes (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
Mark my words, people: you can travel the world far and wide, but you will never find a group of people more fascinated with the end of life as we know it than genre fans. Science Fiction and Fantasy knuckleheads have been eating this stuff up with a spoon since the days of H.G. Wells (and likely before), so I'm always thrilled to showcase yet one more look at our impending doom.
That said, might I introduce you to a little something something called Rubikon?
According to IMDB.com (in its trivia citation for the movie), the film draws its name as inspiration from the ancient river Rubicon in northeastern Italy. Wikipedia.org reports that the phrase "crossing the Rubicon" means that one has crossed the point of no return ... and if that doesn't conjure up the proper sentimentality for Earth's Apocalypse then I've no idea what does!
Written (in part) and directed by Magdalena Lauritsch (and this looks like her first full feature), the flick stars Julia Franz Richter, George Blagden (audiences might remember him as 'Athelstan' from the popular Vikings television show), and Mark Ivanir (seen semi-recently in HBO's Barry series). Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
"Following a catastrophe on Earth, the planet is covered in a toxic fog. The crew in the space station, must decide whether to risk their lives to get home and search for survivors, or stay safe in the station's 'algae symbiosis system'."
I've received a smattering of information via the studio's press release, and I'll copy and paste below (after the trailer) for interested parties to check out. As usual, you folks know what to do.
That said, might I introduce you to a little something something called Rubikon?
According to IMDB.com (in its trivia citation for the movie), the film draws its name as inspiration from the ancient river Rubicon in northeastern Italy. Wikipedia.org reports that the phrase "crossing the Rubicon" means that one has crossed the point of no return ... and if that doesn't conjure up the proper sentimentality for Earth's Apocalypse then I've no idea what does!
Written (in part) and directed by Magdalena Lauritsch (and this looks like her first full feature), the flick stars Julia Franz Richter, George Blagden (audiences might remember him as 'Athelstan' from the popular Vikings television show), and Mark Ivanir (seen semi-recently in HBO's Barry series). Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
"Following a catastrophe on Earth, the planet is covered in a toxic fog. The crew in the space station, must decide whether to risk their lives to get home and search for survivors, or stay safe in the station's 'algae symbiosis system'."
I've received a smattering of information via the studio's press release, and I'll copy and paste below (after the trailer) for interested parties to check out. As usual, you folks know what to do.
IFC Midnight present Rubikon
Opening In Theaters and
Everywhere You Rent Movies July 1st
Everywhere You Rent Movies July 1st
2056. A toxic cloud of pollution has swallowed the earth, killing untold numbers. The world's nations have dissolved, with all power now in the hands of giant corporations. The rich retreat to sealed biodomes while the poor choke and starve. On the space station Rubikon, Hannah (Julia Franz Richter), Gavin (George Blagden), and Dimitri (Mark Ivanir) weigh the fate of the planet’s survivors. Should these crewmembers risk their own lives on a rescue mission to the surface, or ignore the old world to build a new one of safety and solitude, living off the station’s sophisticated algae symbiosis system? Against the vast canvas of the cosmos, three people with different worldviews debate their moral responsibility to the species, all while grappling with the timely agony of isolation.
About Director Leni Lauritsch
Born 1988 in Austria. Graduated high school in 2006. Studied cinematography and directing at the film academy Vienna. Worked for several film production companies to finance her studies. Since 2017 in the “directing“ Master’s program. Currently working as director, writer and script consultant in Vienna.
2018 Wir liefern ein Lächeln (Short)
2017 Clinch (Short)
2013 Rote Flecken (Short)
2010 Clara Sehen (Short)
2009 Masken Masken (Short)
- Published on
Even the little guys who blog about the entertainment industry -- a misfit such as myself -- often get asked by others what they should be watching either at the movies or on television.
I'm often a bit under the gun in that respect because longtime readers in this space should already know my policy: I typically do not recommend properties. I'm in the business of critically assessing them; and -- as a consequence -- I've really absolutely no way to know whether a certain program might tickle your fancy or not. I can only tell you what tickled my fancy ... and that will always be the dirty little secret your favorite reviewer never wants to let you in on, peeps. We just don't know. We can tell you if it's a worthwhile production. We can tell you if it's well-acted. We can likely even tell you whether or not it worth the budget somebody spent on it. And still -- at the end of the day -- there's truly no means for us to assure you that this or that show or movie will be worth your investment, whatever that may be.
Also, as I'm not an industry insider, I can only give you my two cents about what I've seen. I used to follow a handful of other blog-like outlets specifically for some reactions of their influential folks; but after I time I started noticing that a few like-minded writers rarely dissected these shows to the point wherein they established faith to have sat through it all ... so I tuned them out. I'll pop over to those sites infrequently -- it's still valuable to kinda/sorta stay abreast of what others are doing and saying -- but I do tend to keep to myself in many ways so as not to be unduly influenced one way or another about a program.
And because I'm not as timely as others, I might not be current on the latest fad. That, too, is just part of who I am. I get it when I can, even when that means sacrificing 'clicks' in favor of being a bit more 'soulful' about my reflections.
But ... have you seen a little something something called Sweet Home?
It's out of Korea -- from what I've read -- and it's a curious little oddity if ever there were. It's up for streaming on the Netflix -- has been since December, 2020. I have read that it was only recently renewed for a second season (not sure as to the delay, but everyone and his mother's uncle should be aware of Netflix's financial woes by now so perhaps that's tied to it), so I made some time in the schedule to take in its first crop of ten episodes.
Erm ... it's a bit difficult to give an appropriate plot summary. Essentially, the world -- or, at least, South Korea -- has been plunged into a bit of an Apocalypse when it turns out that -- somehow, some way -- its people have been affected/afflicted with a virus/condition that, ultimately, changes them into monsters. The creatures are varied -- I'm pretty certain you've never seen any of these creations twice in the show -- and there are only some modest suggestions that a person's end result (of a monster) is somehow tied to their personality. It looks mostly arbitrary, but the show hasn't spent a wealth of time exploring that side of its mythology. In these episodes, it's far more an examination of these end times and how to survive it.
I'm not up on the Korean entertainment scene so far as actors and actresses go, so I couldn't assure you whether or not any of these people are known commodities on that side of the world ... but I can tell you it stars an incredible gifted ensemble of faces, young and old (but mostly young). It's occasionally similar in tone to the theatrical film Love And Monsters (2020), a feature that was mostly overlooked owed to its release date the age of COVID (meaning fewer people saw it than should have). However, Love And Monsters takes a decidedly upbeat tone on our society's predicament; and Sweet Home is largely downbeat, downtrodden, and downright dire.
What impressed me quite a bit about the show, though, was the fact that it rather efficiently mixes a variety of special effects -- some practical, some camera trickery, some animation, some even weird CGI, etc. -- to the point that it becomes very hard to predict what these storytellers might do with a nasty creature. It also rather fittingly straddles the world of regular film and animation -- I've read that it's derived from comics, but I've done very little digging to compare those apples to oranges -- with its heavy visual style; and it inevitably delivers something that very much feels like a fresh exploration into themes we've all seen before.
If there's any shortcoming to the ten hours, then I'd have to say that some of the character dynamics -- while very good -- feel lost in translation. Because this one is dubbed and subtitled (if you choose), you might find as I did that some lines of dialogue just don't work the same in English as they likely do in the original Korean. Having studied the German language at one time, my brain -- brought up on the American version of English -- often struggled to grasp foreign slang or colloquialisms because of how they're spoken informally; I can't help but wonder if that's why some lines in Korean don't resonate as importantly as the emphasis gets lost in conversion. It's a small quibble ... but I point it out because an exchange here or there was a bit confusing.
That doesn't detract from the wild ride, which I do encourage folks to take if monsters are your thing. Sweet Home has some obvious SciFi and Fantasy tie-ins, but it's largely a creature feature once it gets rolling. The terror is well constructed, the narrative keeps widening the boundaries to allow for more tension, and the fact that it's getting a second season should also be considered as a sign of quality.
-- EZ
I'm often a bit under the gun in that respect because longtime readers in this space should already know my policy: I typically do not recommend properties. I'm in the business of critically assessing them; and -- as a consequence -- I've really absolutely no way to know whether a certain program might tickle your fancy or not. I can only tell you what tickled my fancy ... and that will always be the dirty little secret your favorite reviewer never wants to let you in on, peeps. We just don't know. We can tell you if it's a worthwhile production. We can tell you if it's well-acted. We can likely even tell you whether or not it worth the budget somebody spent on it. And still -- at the end of the day -- there's truly no means for us to assure you that this or that show or movie will be worth your investment, whatever that may be.
Also, as I'm not an industry insider, I can only give you my two cents about what I've seen. I used to follow a handful of other blog-like outlets specifically for some reactions of their influential folks; but after I time I started noticing that a few like-minded writers rarely dissected these shows to the point wherein they established faith to have sat through it all ... so I tuned them out. I'll pop over to those sites infrequently -- it's still valuable to kinda/sorta stay abreast of what others are doing and saying -- but I do tend to keep to myself in many ways so as not to be unduly influenced one way or another about a program.
And because I'm not as timely as others, I might not be current on the latest fad. That, too, is just part of who I am. I get it when I can, even when that means sacrificing 'clicks' in favor of being a bit more 'soulful' about my reflections.
But ... have you seen a little something something called Sweet Home?
It's out of Korea -- from what I've read -- and it's a curious little oddity if ever there were. It's up for streaming on the Netflix -- has been since December, 2020. I have read that it was only recently renewed for a second season (not sure as to the delay, but everyone and his mother's uncle should be aware of Netflix's financial woes by now so perhaps that's tied to it), so I made some time in the schedule to take in its first crop of ten episodes.
Erm ... it's a bit difficult to give an appropriate plot summary. Essentially, the world -- or, at least, South Korea -- has been plunged into a bit of an Apocalypse when it turns out that -- somehow, some way -- its people have been affected/afflicted with a virus/condition that, ultimately, changes them into monsters. The creatures are varied -- I'm pretty certain you've never seen any of these creations twice in the show -- and there are only some modest suggestions that a person's end result (of a monster) is somehow tied to their personality. It looks mostly arbitrary, but the show hasn't spent a wealth of time exploring that side of its mythology. In these episodes, it's far more an examination of these end times and how to survive it.
I'm not up on the Korean entertainment scene so far as actors and actresses go, so I couldn't assure you whether or not any of these people are known commodities on that side of the world ... but I can tell you it stars an incredible gifted ensemble of faces, young and old (but mostly young). It's occasionally similar in tone to the theatrical film Love And Monsters (2020), a feature that was mostly overlooked owed to its release date the age of COVID (meaning fewer people saw it than should have). However, Love And Monsters takes a decidedly upbeat tone on our society's predicament; and Sweet Home is largely downbeat, downtrodden, and downright dire.
What impressed me quite a bit about the show, though, was the fact that it rather efficiently mixes a variety of special effects -- some practical, some camera trickery, some animation, some even weird CGI, etc. -- to the point that it becomes very hard to predict what these storytellers might do with a nasty creature. It also rather fittingly straddles the world of regular film and animation -- I've read that it's derived from comics, but I've done very little digging to compare those apples to oranges -- with its heavy visual style; and it inevitably delivers something that very much feels like a fresh exploration into themes we've all seen before.
If there's any shortcoming to the ten hours, then I'd have to say that some of the character dynamics -- while very good -- feel lost in translation. Because this one is dubbed and subtitled (if you choose), you might find as I did that some lines of dialogue just don't work the same in English as they likely do in the original Korean. Having studied the German language at one time, my brain -- brought up on the American version of English -- often struggled to grasp foreign slang or colloquialisms because of how they're spoken informally; I can't help but wonder if that's why some lines in Korean don't resonate as importantly as the emphasis gets lost in conversion. It's a small quibble ... but I point it out because an exchange here or there was a bit confusing.
That doesn't detract from the wild ride, which I do encourage folks to take if monsters are your thing. Sweet Home has some obvious SciFi and Fantasy tie-ins, but it's largely a creature feature once it gets rolling. The terror is well constructed, the narrative keeps widening the boundaries to allow for more tension, and the fact that it's getting a second season should also be considered as a sign of quality.
-- EZ
- Published on
Netflix’s Stranger Things is a property that I didn’t get to in what we’d all call ‘real time.’
As I’d mentioned many times before, I wasn’t a fan of Netflix’s corporate board. They’d said some things in media interviews that led me to understand that they were rapidly anti-American (a real shame as a good portion of their business comes from the United States), so I just wasn’t going to give them a second look. After a time – and the build-up of entertainment properties I genuinely wanted to explore – I softened my stance and gave them a closer look. Eventually, I subscribed, and the rest – as they say – is water under the bridge.
But I’d actually seen the first two seasons on DVD when they were released (limited, I believe) in the U.S. on DVD at Target. Though I wasn’t ‘gaga’ over the show like so many, I’ll concede that it clearly had many of the things audiences look to in a quality genre enterprise: a solid premise, exceptional effects, some moments of tension intercut with great levity, and a winning cast. The youngsters made it easy to forgive any of the show’s lesser moments; they all bring an honest enthusiasm to the material, and it certainly helps that they crew brings a great screen chemistry with them each time they’re enlisted for another season.
However … I still didn’t find the show as pitch perfect as did the larger swath of mankind.
Season One? Oh, yes. A winner. I recall having a few misgivings with some of the side characters, but – all-in-all – it was a pretty stellar introduction into this world that wasn’t quite Science Fiction, wasn’t quite Fantasy, wasn’t quite Horror but instead combined the elements in a thrilling concoction while effectively recreating the vibe of 1980’s storytelling sensibilities. It tapped into something, became a bona fide global phenomenon, and we were off to the races.
Season Two? Again, another pretty solid experience, though the gloss – in my opinion – had worn just a bit. It’s hard to recreate the magic of an all-new event, but the Duffer Brothers were familiar enough with their material to bring it to life again. A couple of the storylines felt a bit consequential and not as organic as the first season; and yet because it was all so well done it was easy to forgive a blemish here and there. Like I said, another great thrill ride.
Season Three? Meh. I really had a hard time with this one mostly because I just didn’t feel the overall arc of this crop of episodes was doing anything more than trying to sustain something already done vastly better in Season 1 and Season 2. The freshness of their ideas and situations was gone – this was the third assortment, after all – and the kids started looking a bit too old to handle some of the required ‘wide-eyed responses’ to the frights. They’d seen it before, you know, and – like them – I kept thinking “this isn’t our first rodeo” … so I found much of it just uneven … not uninteresting, mind you … just uneven.
Which brings us to the Season Four, Part 1 …
Hmmm …
As I’d mentioned many times before, I wasn’t a fan of Netflix’s corporate board. They’d said some things in media interviews that led me to understand that they were rapidly anti-American (a real shame as a good portion of their business comes from the United States), so I just wasn’t going to give them a second look. After a time – and the build-up of entertainment properties I genuinely wanted to explore – I softened my stance and gave them a closer look. Eventually, I subscribed, and the rest – as they say – is water under the bridge.
But I’d actually seen the first two seasons on DVD when they were released (limited, I believe) in the U.S. on DVD at Target. Though I wasn’t ‘gaga’ over the show like so many, I’ll concede that it clearly had many of the things audiences look to in a quality genre enterprise: a solid premise, exceptional effects, some moments of tension intercut with great levity, and a winning cast. The youngsters made it easy to forgive any of the show’s lesser moments; they all bring an honest enthusiasm to the material, and it certainly helps that they crew brings a great screen chemistry with them each time they’re enlisted for another season.
However … I still didn’t find the show as pitch perfect as did the larger swath of mankind.
Season One? Oh, yes. A winner. I recall having a few misgivings with some of the side characters, but – all-in-all – it was a pretty stellar introduction into this world that wasn’t quite Science Fiction, wasn’t quite Fantasy, wasn’t quite Horror but instead combined the elements in a thrilling concoction while effectively recreating the vibe of 1980’s storytelling sensibilities. It tapped into something, became a bona fide global phenomenon, and we were off to the races.
Season Two? Again, another pretty solid experience, though the gloss – in my opinion – had worn just a bit. It’s hard to recreate the magic of an all-new event, but the Duffer Brothers were familiar enough with their material to bring it to life again. A couple of the storylines felt a bit consequential and not as organic as the first season; and yet because it was all so well done it was easy to forgive a blemish here and there. Like I said, another great thrill ride.
Season Three? Meh. I really had a hard time with this one mostly because I just didn’t feel the overall arc of this crop of episodes was doing anything more than trying to sustain something already done vastly better in Season 1 and Season 2. The freshness of their ideas and situations was gone – this was the third assortment, after all – and the kids started looking a bit too old to handle some of the required ‘wide-eyed responses’ to the frights. They’d seen it before, you know, and – like them – I kept thinking “this isn’t our first rodeo” … so I found much of it just uneven … not uninteresting, mind you … just uneven.
Which brings us to the Season Four, Part 1 …
Hmmm …
I’m hesitant to pen what I’d call a full review, mostly because I don’t like trying to put the cap on what’s an unfinished story, but I will say that the show has found a bit of reinvigoration.
The writers have kinda/sorta come to terms with their growing cast, finally putting them in a set of circumstances and situations befitting their wizened years and experience. Like it or not, they’ve become a modern incarnation of the Ghostbusters; and the truth of engaging in such exploits is that – over time and gained familiarity – that job gets a bit less scary for them. That’s where they are – they’ve done this before – and their reactions are definitely a bit more in line with where they should be.
See, we’ve watched them grow up in these extraordinary times, and now we – as an audience – are looking to them to right these wrongs. They’re rising to the challenges quicker and with greater confidence – as they should – and the show has evolved a bit from what it was only a few years ago. It’s more nuanced, and it’s definitely more intelligence. While they might have a wide-eyed moment of pure dread here and there, we’re able to see the maturity of what they’ve endured much more strongly than ever before … and I, personally, think that’s why I’m finding this season on par with the first. It’s almost like Seasons 1 and 4 are bookends to a saga, even though we know there’s a fifth season on the horizon.
Also, there’s been plenty written about Season 4’s obvious similarities to the Freddy Krueger saga. In no small way, there are bits and pieces that feel ‘lifted’ (inspired?) by the whole A Nightmare On Elm Street series of flicks – a very good property to ‘steal’ from, if you’re gonna steal – and I think the Duffer Brothers have taken great pains to position the supernatural villainy above where the kids could handle a few seasons ago up to what they’re capable of facing as young adults. It’s some genius work, really, and I hope these cast, crew, and show are rewarded come award season.
A last reflection that happened across my brain the other day bears a bit of mention.
As a young’un, I grew up watching the old serials of Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers on Saturday morning television. (No, kids, I’m not so old I saw them in theaters first run. Give me some credit!) There was a local station out of Chicago that would play them in rotation every so often – honestly, it felt like it happened once a year – and I’d always tune in when I could find them. Take this for what it’s worth, but the opening half of Stranger Things Season 4 feels very similar to what audiences were originally treated to back in the day – an ongoing serialized adventure that ran in a loose chronological fashion. Every chapter ended on a cliffhanger that’d be picked up next time, and this effect produces the desired result of drawing you deeper and deeper in the franchise’s magic and mystery.
There’s a meme somewhere online (I believe it’s based on a comedian’s joke) about how a studio executive is pitching a new idea. He says, “I want to make a ten-hour movie,” and – of course – the reaction is in the negative. It’ll never sell. No one will come to watch that. It’s stupid. We’ll go bankrupt. Those are the typical answers. So to counter the downside, he suggests, “OK, then let’s make a ten-hour series,” to which everyone enthusiastically agrees and starts throwing money at the suit.
See what I mean?
This is where Stranger Things is right now: it’s reinvented the classic movie serial … a format that I’d argue has never gone out of style … it just comes and goes until some creative type gives it a bit of a makeover … and audiences are hooked again.
So thank you, Duffer Brothers, for a return to prominence of the best kind of long-form storytelling ever invented. You’ve done it proud this season.
-- EZ
The writers have kinda/sorta come to terms with their growing cast, finally putting them in a set of circumstances and situations befitting their wizened years and experience. Like it or not, they’ve become a modern incarnation of the Ghostbusters; and the truth of engaging in such exploits is that – over time and gained familiarity – that job gets a bit less scary for them. That’s where they are – they’ve done this before – and their reactions are definitely a bit more in line with where they should be.
See, we’ve watched them grow up in these extraordinary times, and now we – as an audience – are looking to them to right these wrongs. They’re rising to the challenges quicker and with greater confidence – as they should – and the show has evolved a bit from what it was only a few years ago. It’s more nuanced, and it’s definitely more intelligence. While they might have a wide-eyed moment of pure dread here and there, we’re able to see the maturity of what they’ve endured much more strongly than ever before … and I, personally, think that’s why I’m finding this season on par with the first. It’s almost like Seasons 1 and 4 are bookends to a saga, even though we know there’s a fifth season on the horizon.
Also, there’s been plenty written about Season 4’s obvious similarities to the Freddy Krueger saga. In no small way, there are bits and pieces that feel ‘lifted’ (inspired?) by the whole A Nightmare On Elm Street series of flicks – a very good property to ‘steal’ from, if you’re gonna steal – and I think the Duffer Brothers have taken great pains to position the supernatural villainy above where the kids could handle a few seasons ago up to what they’re capable of facing as young adults. It’s some genius work, really, and I hope these cast, crew, and show are rewarded come award season.
A last reflection that happened across my brain the other day bears a bit of mention.
As a young’un, I grew up watching the old serials of Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers on Saturday morning television. (No, kids, I’m not so old I saw them in theaters first run. Give me some credit!) There was a local station out of Chicago that would play them in rotation every so often – honestly, it felt like it happened once a year – and I’d always tune in when I could find them. Take this for what it’s worth, but the opening half of Stranger Things Season 4 feels very similar to what audiences were originally treated to back in the day – an ongoing serialized adventure that ran in a loose chronological fashion. Every chapter ended on a cliffhanger that’d be picked up next time, and this effect produces the desired result of drawing you deeper and deeper in the franchise’s magic and mystery.
There’s a meme somewhere online (I believe it’s based on a comedian’s joke) about how a studio executive is pitching a new idea. He says, “I want to make a ten-hour movie,” and – of course – the reaction is in the negative. It’ll never sell. No one will come to watch that. It’s stupid. We’ll go bankrupt. Those are the typical answers. So to counter the downside, he suggests, “OK, then let’s make a ten-hour series,” to which everyone enthusiastically agrees and starts throwing money at the suit.
See what I mean?
This is where Stranger Things is right now: it’s reinvented the classic movie serial … a format that I’d argue has never gone out of style … it just comes and goes until some creative type gives it a bit of a makeover … and audiences are hooked again.
So thank you, Duffer Brothers, for a return to prominence of the best kind of long-form storytelling ever invented. You’ve done it proud this season.
-- EZ
- Published on
Alas, folks, let me tell you exactly where we’re at culturally, will you?
Gone are the days wherein the guys in white rode in on horseback to save the day. In most cases, the great American cowboy has been relegated to the Hollywood scrapheap. For a brief time – thanks for the proliferation of Nazis and Communists – he was allowed to show his face in war movies and similar minded adventures. However, the push to level to sexual playing field has even brought what was thought to be the kinder, gentler sex into these realms; no, I’m not letting my sexism show … rather, I’m lamenting the loss of the John Wayne, the Arnold Schwarzenegger, the Sly Stallone, and the Bruce Willis days of cinema. Women are, of course, welcome to come along; these just have to be crafted as cleverly as are the males.
However, these stories of burgeoning testosterone can still be found, but they’ve almost sadly been exclusively relegated to the worlds of Science Fiction and Fantasy. Why? Well, that’s because critics and academia tend to take them less seriously … so why not vanquish traditional movie heroics as well to what can easily be dismissed as – ahem – lesser fodder?
That’s why stuff like The Prey: Legend Of Karnoctus is a bit of a misnomer. It features the kind of gung-ho theatrics typically reserved for men or the bygone era of action/adventure films. Yes, it brings with it an almost all-male cast (gasp!) – though the soldier lady aboard this B-Movie mash-up holds her own when shots are fired – and delivers up a dose of cinematic cheesery that we’ve seen before … so maybe those of us old enough to have lived through the glorious 1980’s can see the footprints of its bigger inspirations and aspirations of that bygone period.
(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 good hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com citation:
“A platoon of U.S. soldiers in Afghanistan searching for Taliban become trapped in a cave and are hunted down by a deadly creature.”
A low-budget reinvention of the vastly superior Predator (1987) starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, The Prey casts Nick Chinlund, Adrian Paul, Danny Trejo, and Kevin Grevioux as a kinda/sorta thieving band of CIA-sponsored ‘Expendables’ dispatched to the Afghan wild on a mission to steal Taliban gold that the U.S. government intends to fund the next round of secret and illicit state-sponsored operations. The plot – also just vaguely reminiscent of elements from David O. Russell’s popular Three Kings (1999) – transplants that alien hunter with a local Afghan monster/legend, pitting these American special forces operatives and a fractured platoon of Marines in a race to find their way out of the country’s massive cave network before they’re reduced to dinner by a lumbering, fluorescent menace.
Gone are the days wherein the guys in white rode in on horseback to save the day. In most cases, the great American cowboy has been relegated to the Hollywood scrapheap. For a brief time – thanks for the proliferation of Nazis and Communists – he was allowed to show his face in war movies and similar minded adventures. However, the push to level to sexual playing field has even brought what was thought to be the kinder, gentler sex into these realms; no, I’m not letting my sexism show … rather, I’m lamenting the loss of the John Wayne, the Arnold Schwarzenegger, the Sly Stallone, and the Bruce Willis days of cinema. Women are, of course, welcome to come along; these just have to be crafted as cleverly as are the males.
However, these stories of burgeoning testosterone can still be found, but they’ve almost sadly been exclusively relegated to the worlds of Science Fiction and Fantasy. Why? Well, that’s because critics and academia tend to take them less seriously … so why not vanquish traditional movie heroics as well to what can easily be dismissed as – ahem – lesser fodder?
That’s why stuff like The Prey: Legend Of Karnoctus is a bit of a misnomer. It features the kind of gung-ho theatrics typically reserved for men or the bygone era of action/adventure films. Yes, it brings with it an almost all-male cast (gasp!) – though the soldier lady aboard this B-Movie mash-up holds her own when shots are fired – and delivers up a dose of cinematic cheesery that we’ve seen before … so maybe those of us old enough to have lived through the glorious 1980’s can see the footprints of its bigger inspirations and aspirations of that bygone period.
(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 good hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com citation:
“A platoon of U.S. soldiers in Afghanistan searching for Taliban become trapped in a cave and are hunted down by a deadly creature.”
A low-budget reinvention of the vastly superior Predator (1987) starring Arnold Schwarzenegger, The Prey casts Nick Chinlund, Adrian Paul, Danny Trejo, and Kevin Grevioux as a kinda/sorta thieving band of CIA-sponsored ‘Expendables’ dispatched to the Afghan wild on a mission to steal Taliban gold that the U.S. government intends to fund the next round of secret and illicit state-sponsored operations. The plot – also just vaguely reminiscent of elements from David O. Russell’s popular Three Kings (1999) – transplants that alien hunter with a local Afghan monster/legend, pitting these American special forces operatives and a fractured platoon of Marines in a race to find their way out of the country’s massive cave network before they’re reduced to dinner by a lumbering, fluorescent menace.
The downsides?
Well, sadly the script pretty much sidelines familiar faces like Trejo and Paul; after the narrative set-up which establishes their clandestine purpose in the region, they’re off to (mostly) parts unknown as the bulk of what remains has Chinlund and Grevioux trapped in the caverns with the lost platoon. From there, the script tries to give this cadre of fighters a similar level of outback machismo, but they’re shackled with a bit too much ‘green behind the ears’ blandness to be much more than comic relief. To her credit, relative newcomer Masika Kalysha (as ‘Lake’) manages to hold her own – even though the script from Matthew Hensman and Gustavo Sainz de la Pena saddles her with a few scenes dripping with O.G. misogyny – as does Matt Musgrove as a kinda/sorta weaker version of Bill Paxton’s ‘Corporal Hicks’ in James Cameron’s Aliens (1986). Still, it’s hard for even the most talented player to make much of a script that sticks too closely to the formula.
The upsides?
I couldn’t say why, but I’ve always had a fondness for Chinlund. His career trajectory has never been all that grand or noticeable, but he’s always delivered characters a bit larger-than-life, the kind that typically elevate even small scenes to something special. He does what he can here, which is good given most of the screen time leans his way. Also, despite its blemishes (and there are plenty), The Prey works well despite the fact that it feels almost oppressively low budget at times because it delivers exactly what the audience expects: a modicum of action revolving around this trip in the dark where a monster might be waiting behind every corner. While there are a few sequences involving protracted hallucinations of these soldiers (there’s a curious drug den subplot that really serves little purpose), directors Cire and Matthew Hensman stick close enough to the plot points that they’ve delivered – if nothing else – a workable flick to pass the time … but little more.
It does end with the promise of a follow-up. I won’t spoil the soup but a few players do survive. And with the promise of, perhaps, Paul and Trejo showing up for greater screen time in a sequel? Well, maybe – maybe – we haven’t seen the last of this monster.
The Prey: Legend Of Karnoctus (2022) was produced by Lennexe Films, Mano A Mano Films, Chu Media, and a few other participants. The press materials I’ve been provided indicate that the picture is having a limited theatrical release as well as being available VOD (Video-On-Demand) on June 7th. On July 7th, the film will debut on more digital outlets including iTunes, Prime Video, Vudu, and Google Play.
Mildly recommended. As Predator knockoffs go, audiences could do far worse than spend 80 minutes with The Prey: Legend Of Karnoctus. It’s put together with just the right amount of sweat and swagger that those who are into B-Movie goodness might find enough to enjoy. My reservations with it really involve a script that truly only goes half-way, never quite buying into the characters’ collective machismo to give this monster movie the testosterone clout it needed to rise above the crop of other middle ground fare to be truly memorable. The reliable Nick Chinlund is the only tentpole in here, but he's paired up with way too much mediocre dialogue to sell the full sizzle. A miss … but a watchable one, so far as this genre junkie is concerned.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Stonecutter Media provided me with complimentary streaming access to The Prey: Legend Of Karnoctus 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.
Well, sadly the script pretty much sidelines familiar faces like Trejo and Paul; after the narrative set-up which establishes their clandestine purpose in the region, they’re off to (mostly) parts unknown as the bulk of what remains has Chinlund and Grevioux trapped in the caverns with the lost platoon. From there, the script tries to give this cadre of fighters a similar level of outback machismo, but they’re shackled with a bit too much ‘green behind the ears’ blandness to be much more than comic relief. To her credit, relative newcomer Masika Kalysha (as ‘Lake’) manages to hold her own – even though the script from Matthew Hensman and Gustavo Sainz de la Pena saddles her with a few scenes dripping with O.G. misogyny – as does Matt Musgrove as a kinda/sorta weaker version of Bill Paxton’s ‘Corporal Hicks’ in James Cameron’s Aliens (1986). Still, it’s hard for even the most talented player to make much of a script that sticks too closely to the formula.
The upsides?
I couldn’t say why, but I’ve always had a fondness for Chinlund. His career trajectory has never been all that grand or noticeable, but he’s always delivered characters a bit larger-than-life, the kind that typically elevate even small scenes to something special. He does what he can here, which is good given most of the screen time leans his way. Also, despite its blemishes (and there are plenty), The Prey works well despite the fact that it feels almost oppressively low budget at times because it delivers exactly what the audience expects: a modicum of action revolving around this trip in the dark where a monster might be waiting behind every corner. While there are a few sequences involving protracted hallucinations of these soldiers (there’s a curious drug den subplot that really serves little purpose), directors Cire and Matthew Hensman stick close enough to the plot points that they’ve delivered – if nothing else – a workable flick to pass the time … but little more.
It does end with the promise of a follow-up. I won’t spoil the soup but a few players do survive. And with the promise of, perhaps, Paul and Trejo showing up for greater screen time in a sequel? Well, maybe – maybe – we haven’t seen the last of this monster.
The Prey: Legend Of Karnoctus (2022) was produced by Lennexe Films, Mano A Mano Films, Chu Media, and a few other participants. The press materials I’ve been provided indicate that the picture is having a limited theatrical release as well as being available VOD (Video-On-Demand) on June 7th. On July 7th, the film will debut on more digital outlets including iTunes, Prime Video, Vudu, and Google Play.
Mildly recommended. As Predator knockoffs go, audiences could do far worse than spend 80 minutes with The Prey: Legend Of Karnoctus. It’s put together with just the right amount of sweat and swagger that those who are into B-Movie goodness might find enough to enjoy. My reservations with it really involve a script that truly only goes half-way, never quite buying into the characters’ collective machismo to give this monster movie the testosterone clout it needed to rise above the crop of other middle ground fare to be truly memorable. The reliable Nick Chinlund is the only tentpole in here, but he's paired up with way too much mediocre dialogue to sell the full sizzle. A miss … but a watchable one, so far as this genre junkie is concerned.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Stonecutter Media provided me with complimentary streaming access to The Prey: Legend Of Karnoctus 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.
- Published on
One of the unintended consequences when our society decided its response to the COVID virus was to grind everything to a halt for a ridiculously extended period of time is that a good number of films ended up being sidelined in theaters with no patrons.
For those of you who missed it, quite literally everything was shut down. Stores. Shops. Theaters. Those businesses allowed to remain open were forced to adopt a series of authoritarian measures also meant to curb the spread, but the general emotional response seemed to be that folks decided it wasn’t worth it. Granted, a great many folks were convinced that going out would mean the end of life itself, so I can understand and appreciate why so many stayed away. Still, I can’t help but wonder where we would be in our collective recovery today had everyone simply adopted a greater sense of calm, engaged in smart preventative care (as opposed to the Draconian ones decreed by governments around the world), and agreed to a vastly shorter lockdown that what we endured.
In any event, I do remember a little something something called The Wolf Of Snow Hollow coming and going quickly through its truncated theatrical run. Though it initially screened prior to the initial outbreak, it was one of those releases (at least in my area) that was allowed to languish in the mostly empty theaters. Hollywood had ground to a halt with putting films up on the screens – enforced lockdowns meant little to no ticket purchases anyway – so anyone who would’ve appreciated this smart little gem of a Horror/Comedy mix probably never heard of it.
And I, for one, find that very sad.
Written by, directed by, and starring Jim Cummings, Snow Hollow is one of the better genre flicks I’ve had the good fortune to stumble across as of late. (FYI: It made the rounds on one of my cable channels recently, so I DVR’ed for good measure.) Cummings (as ‘John Marshall’) is exceptional as the stress-addled ‘acting sheriff’ to Snow Hollow, a tiny little ski resort municipality he’s not quite happy to call home mostly because his anger issues always get the best of him. His father, the sheriff, is played by the screen veteran Robert Forster in one of his last roles of record. This sometimes manic but always knowing picture also casts the fabulous, underrated Riki Lindhome as a small-town deputy in pursuit of what looks to be a serial killer who may or may not take the shape of the mythical creature of legend – the werewolf.
For those of you who missed it, quite literally everything was shut down. Stores. Shops. Theaters. Those businesses allowed to remain open were forced to adopt a series of authoritarian measures also meant to curb the spread, but the general emotional response seemed to be that folks decided it wasn’t worth it. Granted, a great many folks were convinced that going out would mean the end of life itself, so I can understand and appreciate why so many stayed away. Still, I can’t help but wonder where we would be in our collective recovery today had everyone simply adopted a greater sense of calm, engaged in smart preventative care (as opposed to the Draconian ones decreed by governments around the world), and agreed to a vastly shorter lockdown that what we endured.
In any event, I do remember a little something something called The Wolf Of Snow Hollow coming and going quickly through its truncated theatrical run. Though it initially screened prior to the initial outbreak, it was one of those releases (at least in my area) that was allowed to languish in the mostly empty theaters. Hollywood had ground to a halt with putting films up on the screens – enforced lockdowns meant little to no ticket purchases anyway – so anyone who would’ve appreciated this smart little gem of a Horror/Comedy mix probably never heard of it.
And I, for one, find that very sad.
Written by, directed by, and starring Jim Cummings, Snow Hollow is one of the better genre flicks I’ve had the good fortune to stumble across as of late. (FYI: It made the rounds on one of my cable channels recently, so I DVR’ed for good measure.) Cummings (as ‘John Marshall’) is exceptional as the stress-addled ‘acting sheriff’ to Snow Hollow, a tiny little ski resort municipality he’s not quite happy to call home mostly because his anger issues always get the best of him. His father, the sheriff, is played by the screen veteran Robert Forster in one of his last roles of record. This sometimes manic but always knowing picture also casts the fabulous, underrated Riki Lindhome as a small-town deputy in pursuit of what looks to be a serial killer who may or may not take the shape of the mythical creature of legend – the werewolf.
The script essentially follows the format of any monster procedural: while a series of deaths appear to involve something decidedly inhuman – for the love of Pete! – it just can’t be one of those because – as Marshall insists – they don’t exist. Marshall, in particular, spends the bulk of the script reasonably in denial of the circumstances, instead constantly berating his coworkers to find rational explanations for anything questionable. Owed in part to his increasing managerial misdirection, the bodies continue piling up. Before you know it, the man has fallen off the wagon (John’s in AA … just not a very good member), is at odds with his entire family, and starts considering the impossible when all else fails – maybe there’s something to this whole werewolf business.
Across the board, performances are phenomenal in Snow Hollow. Cummings is owed a lot of praise for not only his time before the camera here, and I can’t help but wonder if the frantic intensity he brings to the role is owed in any negligible way to the stresses of both writing and directing this affair. Forster – the veteran character actor he is – slips comfortably into the guise of a small-town sheriff whose best years (health included) are obviously behind him. There’s a terrific non-verbal shorthand between he and Cummings that gives their screen time together an authenticity that grounds the project. Lindhome – often seen in screwball style comedies – is a revelation here, bringing to life the rather ‘plain Jane’ local yokel who joined the police force and makes the best of it against all odds. And relative newcomer Chloe East gets great mileage out of a relatively small role as Marshall’s daughter who can’t quite decide if she loves or hates her father … such is the life of the great American teenager.
Lastly, I’d be remiss in my duties if I failed to point out that Snow Hollow received a good amount of praise during its time in the limelight. In 2020, the flick was nominated for ‘Best Independent Film’ at the Rondo Hatton Classic Horror Awards. Also in 2020, the Fright Meter Awards christened it with two nominations: one for ‘Best Editing’ and another for Robert Forster’s work as ‘Best Supporting Actor.’ Lastly, the 2021 Fangoria Chainsaw Awards nominated Cummings’ work in the category of ‘Best Lead Performance’ as well as giving the entire film a nod in the category of ‘Best Limited Release Film.’ While it may not have taken home any statues, it definitely opened more than a few eyes with its monstrous charm.
Highly recommended.
I suspect if you’ve never heard of The Wolf Of Snow Hollow (2020) is likely because marketing struggled to functionally identify it and a potential audience. (Well, that and the COVID stuff I mentioned at the beginning.) It’s part Comedy. It’s part Horror. It’s part Thriller. Heck, it’s even part family Drama. Like a good many of the better sleeper films, it kinda/sorta flirts with a handful of genres, never quite settling into a particular niche, and that’s because it’s these characters that compel the story and not the other way around (as is the case in more traditional genre entries). Sometimes dark (and sometimes not), I’d probably best describe it as a cross between Fox TV’s stellar The X-Files with the Coen Brothers’ equally popular Fargo (1996).
For what it’s worth, that’s a damn good mix.
-- EZ
Across the board, performances are phenomenal in Snow Hollow. Cummings is owed a lot of praise for not only his time before the camera here, and I can’t help but wonder if the frantic intensity he brings to the role is owed in any negligible way to the stresses of both writing and directing this affair. Forster – the veteran character actor he is – slips comfortably into the guise of a small-town sheriff whose best years (health included) are obviously behind him. There’s a terrific non-verbal shorthand between he and Cummings that gives their screen time together an authenticity that grounds the project. Lindhome – often seen in screwball style comedies – is a revelation here, bringing to life the rather ‘plain Jane’ local yokel who joined the police force and makes the best of it against all odds. And relative newcomer Chloe East gets great mileage out of a relatively small role as Marshall’s daughter who can’t quite decide if she loves or hates her father … such is the life of the great American teenager.
Lastly, I’d be remiss in my duties if I failed to point out that Snow Hollow received a good amount of praise during its time in the limelight. In 2020, the flick was nominated for ‘Best Independent Film’ at the Rondo Hatton Classic Horror Awards. Also in 2020, the Fright Meter Awards christened it with two nominations: one for ‘Best Editing’ and another for Robert Forster’s work as ‘Best Supporting Actor.’ Lastly, the 2021 Fangoria Chainsaw Awards nominated Cummings’ work in the category of ‘Best Lead Performance’ as well as giving the entire film a nod in the category of ‘Best Limited Release Film.’ While it may not have taken home any statues, it definitely opened more than a few eyes with its monstrous charm.
Highly recommended.
I suspect if you’ve never heard of The Wolf Of Snow Hollow (2020) is likely because marketing struggled to functionally identify it and a potential audience. (Well, that and the COVID stuff I mentioned at the beginning.) It’s part Comedy. It’s part Horror. It’s part Thriller. Heck, it’s even part family Drama. Like a good many of the better sleeper films, it kinda/sorta flirts with a handful of genres, never quite settling into a particular niche, and that’s because it’s these characters that compel the story and not the other way around (as is the case in more traditional genre entries). Sometimes dark (and sometimes not), I’d probably best describe it as a cross between Fox TV’s stellar The X-Files with the Coen Brothers’ equally popular Fargo (1996).
For what it’s worth, that’s a damn good mix.
-- EZ
- Published on
PROGRAMMING NOTE
As SciFiHistory.Net reported in our post right here, I’m pleased to encourage other interested readers to check out Film Movement+’s online streaming portal if for no other purpose than to check out the titles available in their Drive-In Retro Classic Series. It’s just what Science Fiction and Fantasy fans love to film time with.
And while you’re there?
Film Movement+ maintains an incredible library of well over 500 different cinematic treats from around the globe. No matter your desire, I suspect there’s something in their catalogue to tickle your fancy.
And while you’re there?
Film Movement+ maintains an incredible library of well over 500 different cinematic treats from around the globe. No matter your desire, I suspect there’s something in their catalogue to tickle your fancy.
In case you’ve missed my confession previous, I’ll happily remind interested readers: I do so much love Science Fiction from the 1950’s.
Though it’s easy to dismiss so much of it as – ahem – shlock, so very much of these early films went to great lengths to establish some of the basic tropes that ruled an awful lot of genre entertainment for the decades that followed. Alien invaders of Earth largely came to prominence at this time, and they often looked down on us commoners with a lowly place in the galaxy and our flawed understanding of science. They typically brought with them their ray guns and their robots if for no other reason than to demonstrate their superior grasp over weaponry and manufacturing. Furthermore, they often spoke the language of ideas only the brainiest among us could understand, which tended to yet again put the regular Joes like you and me in our place. And – dare I mention? – there was always the prospect of some interspecies lovemaking possible, though industry censors would’ve never allowed anything close to legitimate coupling to play anywhere near your local movie theater.
Because these films put so much of the building blocks in place for storytellers to build on later, I do tend to admire even the lesser entries like Devil Girl From Mars (1954).
Why, even its bare bones production is showing from start-to-finish in what some have labelled a ‘one-house affair.’ Our fiendish invader is decked out what looks like black patent leather (gasp!) looking like a low-rent Darth Vader well before his time on the silver screen. She stares out mercilessly from under a black skull cap, the kind Ming the Merciless first introduced we puny Earthlings to. And she possesses the power to mesmerize both men and women to do her bidding, though – as we learn – she’s come here with only the intention of finding a few good men able to assist in repopulating the society of Earth.
Yes, she has sex on her mind. Not gratuitous or romantic, per se. Just the kind that’ll bring her people back into prominence. And who can blame her from coming here? We Earthmen are such catches, especially in this part of the galaxy.
Mars needs men. I’m sure if she asked she’d fine plenty of takers.
Though it’s easy to dismiss so much of it as – ahem – shlock, so very much of these early films went to great lengths to establish some of the basic tropes that ruled an awful lot of genre entertainment for the decades that followed. Alien invaders of Earth largely came to prominence at this time, and they often looked down on us commoners with a lowly place in the galaxy and our flawed understanding of science. They typically brought with them their ray guns and their robots if for no other reason than to demonstrate their superior grasp over weaponry and manufacturing. Furthermore, they often spoke the language of ideas only the brainiest among us could understand, which tended to yet again put the regular Joes like you and me in our place. And – dare I mention? – there was always the prospect of some interspecies lovemaking possible, though industry censors would’ve never allowed anything close to legitimate coupling to play anywhere near your local movie theater.
Because these films put so much of the building blocks in place for storytellers to build on later, I do tend to admire even the lesser entries like Devil Girl From Mars (1954).
Why, even its bare bones production is showing from start-to-finish in what some have labelled a ‘one-house affair.’ Our fiendish invader is decked out what looks like black patent leather (gasp!) looking like a low-rent Darth Vader well before his time on the silver screen. She stares out mercilessly from under a black skull cap, the kind Ming the Merciless first introduced we puny Earthlings to. And she possesses the power to mesmerize both men and women to do her bidding, though – as we learn – she’s come here with only the intention of finding a few good men able to assist in repopulating the society of Earth.
Yes, she has sex on her mind. Not gratuitous or romantic, per se. Just the kind that’ll bring her people back into prominence. And who can blame her from coming here? We Earthmen are such catches, especially in this part of the galaxy.
Mars needs men. I’m sure if she asked she’d fine plenty of takers.
(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:
“An uptight, leather-clad female alien, armed with a ray gun and accompanied by a menacing robot, comes to Earth to collect Earth’s men as breeding stock.”
In all of Science Fiction and Fantasy films – especially those conceived and produced in bygone eras – it’s exceedingly rare for those invading Martians (or any other species, for that matter) to travel across those vast distances because they want our men. Generally, it’s the women who are in grave peril, and it’s up to the – ahem – rough’n’tumble of the species to take up arms, rise up, and send those aggressors back home with their proverbial tail between their proverbial legs (assuming they have a tail … or legs, for that matter).
And yet 1954’s Devil Girl From Mars turns the tables on those gender roles: Nyah (played with stoic delight by the perfectly lovely Patricia Laffan) shows up with his ship, her laser, and her robot, delivering a story of how the Red Planet’s ‘War Of The Sexes’ left Martian females without enough Martian males to warm up their beds at night. In order to rebuild the species, she’s come to Earth in search of some red-blooded males, and – by hook or by crook – she’s intent on bringing home the bacon … metaphorically speaking, that is.
Given the fact that so much of the film’s action takes place around a single set piece – namely, a secluded Scottish inn resting in God’s country – it comes as no surprise that IMDB.com lists that the script evolved from what may’ve been a stage play crafted by John C. Mather and James Eastwood. As one who spent a fair amount of my extracurricular time in high school and college involved in theater, the entire structure of the film feels like it could’ve been assembled that way originally and then, perhaps, expanded to film when the opportunity presented itself. Information available from Wikipedia.org suggests that Mather was involved in transforming the property for director David MacDonald; apparently, a previous production finished its studio booking early, so rather than lose the time and resources with downtime he was conscripted to put Devil Girl into high gear.
Outside of the obvious, there’s very little to distinguish Devil Girl. The cast is a competent ensemble to deliver what tension the thin script provides. The narrative wastes an awful lot of space, however, as Nyah ends up passing back-and-forth from her ship to the Inn’s sitting room, issuing decrees, threatening the plebes. Essentially, she’s whiling away her moments waiting for faithful robot to repair the vessel; the various exchanges don’t so much advance the plot as they fill time in an otherwise trim 80-minute feature. She gravitates from taking one man back home with her to the next, ultimately falling prey to the cast’s last-ditch effort to save themselves from eradication.
To her credit, Laffan gives the work its only real teeth. In the guise of the dominating Nyah, she chews through scenery so admirable I’m surprised the silver screen didn’t see more of her, at least in similar fare. It would appear that her work had dried up by the late 1960’s – a crying shame – and she must’ve transitioned into other things. Fortune favors the bold, and she certain gave Mars – along with the sexual subjugation of men – about as enticing a look as one could imagine at the time.
From the film’s IMDB.com citation:
“An uptight, leather-clad female alien, armed with a ray gun and accompanied by a menacing robot, comes to Earth to collect Earth’s men as breeding stock.”
In all of Science Fiction and Fantasy films – especially those conceived and produced in bygone eras – it’s exceedingly rare for those invading Martians (or any other species, for that matter) to travel across those vast distances because they want our men. Generally, it’s the women who are in grave peril, and it’s up to the – ahem – rough’n’tumble of the species to take up arms, rise up, and send those aggressors back home with their proverbial tail between their proverbial legs (assuming they have a tail … or legs, for that matter).
And yet 1954’s Devil Girl From Mars turns the tables on those gender roles: Nyah (played with stoic delight by the perfectly lovely Patricia Laffan) shows up with his ship, her laser, and her robot, delivering a story of how the Red Planet’s ‘War Of The Sexes’ left Martian females without enough Martian males to warm up their beds at night. In order to rebuild the species, she’s come to Earth in search of some red-blooded males, and – by hook or by crook – she’s intent on bringing home the bacon … metaphorically speaking, that is.
Given the fact that so much of the film’s action takes place around a single set piece – namely, a secluded Scottish inn resting in God’s country – it comes as no surprise that IMDB.com lists that the script evolved from what may’ve been a stage play crafted by John C. Mather and James Eastwood. As one who spent a fair amount of my extracurricular time in high school and college involved in theater, the entire structure of the film feels like it could’ve been assembled that way originally and then, perhaps, expanded to film when the opportunity presented itself. Information available from Wikipedia.org suggests that Mather was involved in transforming the property for director David MacDonald; apparently, a previous production finished its studio booking early, so rather than lose the time and resources with downtime he was conscripted to put Devil Girl into high gear.
Outside of the obvious, there’s very little to distinguish Devil Girl. The cast is a competent ensemble to deliver what tension the thin script provides. The narrative wastes an awful lot of space, however, as Nyah ends up passing back-and-forth from her ship to the Inn’s sitting room, issuing decrees, threatening the plebes. Essentially, she’s whiling away her moments waiting for faithful robot to repair the vessel; the various exchanges don’t so much advance the plot as they fill time in an otherwise trim 80-minute feature. She gravitates from taking one man back home with her to the next, ultimately falling prey to the cast’s last-ditch effort to save themselves from eradication.
To her credit, Laffan gives the work its only real teeth. In the guise of the dominating Nyah, she chews through scenery so admirable I’m surprised the silver screen didn’t see more of her, at least in similar fare. It would appear that her work had dried up by the late 1960’s – a crying shame – and she must’ve transitioned into other things. Fortune favors the bold, and she certain gave Mars – along with the sexual subjugation of men – about as enticing a look as one could imagine at the time.
Devil Girl From Mars (1954) was produced by Danziger Productions, Ltd. The title is currently available for members of Film Movement+ online streaming platform.
Highly recommended.
When it comes to vintage Science Fiction and Fantasy, I’m really not one to mix words: I know what I like, and I’m happy to promote what I know. Devil Girl From Mars – as imperfect as it is – remains one of those lesser features that never quite had the chance to be anything more than ‘cult.’ Like a theatrical play, its shooting location is largely limited to a single venue. Its story requires more than a fair amount of high camp. And its practical effects – while only occasionally impressive – don’t quite rise to the level of big studio competitors. Still, … can I just say I had a lotta fun watching it? Some days, that’s good enough for me!
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Movement provided me with a complimentary streaming link to Devil Girl From Mars (1954) 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
Highly recommended.
When it comes to vintage Science Fiction and Fantasy, I’m really not one to mix words: I know what I like, and I’m happy to promote what I know. Devil Girl From Mars – as imperfect as it is – remains one of those lesser features that never quite had the chance to be anything more than ‘cult.’ Like a theatrical play, its shooting location is largely limited to a single venue. Its story requires more than a fair amount of high camp. And its practical effects – while only occasionally impressive – don’t quite rise to the level of big studio competitors. Still, … can I just say I had a lotta fun watching it? Some days, that’s good enough for me!
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Movement provided me with a complimentary streaming link to Devil Girl From Mars (1954) 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
For a few years during my high school period, I and a group of friends had a fascination with what’s commonly labeled as ‘Kung Fu Cinema.’
The truth is we didn’t stumble upon it naturally, which is to say that none of us were athletes studying any particular self defense discipline. Rather, there happened to be a nearby small-town television station that on Sunday afternoons broadcast any number of these fight films under the heading of Kung Fu Theatre. This was before the days of home video – well, there weren’t affordable Betamax machines in our one-horse town, anyway – so we’d hunker down around the television set and enjoy whatever it was they were screening that lunchtime.
Like so many folks do (at a certain age), we ended up making fun of the goofy sound-dubbing work. Back in those days, the translations were almost exclusively awful. But what we did learn was that all of these flicks – big and small – functioned from a pretty universal formula:
Of course, there were any number of minor variations to this framework. Honestly, most of the divergences from what I recall involved the villains more than they did the lead – occasionally, even the baddies were tragically flawed, or they were sometimes ‘blessed’ with super-special almost superhero-like strength or gadgets that became their lethal gimmick. But before all was said and done, the hero recovered his place in the community by rising up, kicking butt, and never thinking twice about taking names.
Thankfully, I don’t have to stretch my imagination all that far to enjoy a little something something like One-Armed Boxer (1972). Like the films of my younger days, it fit easily into the methodology. Our lead rises and falls and rises with the best of them, only this time the gimmick ended up being attached (erm … or is that unattached?) to him: when he comes to that midpoint narrative crossroads when failure is required, he ends up losing an arm.
Ouch. That’s gotta sting.
(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 …)
The truth is we didn’t stumble upon it naturally, which is to say that none of us were athletes studying any particular self defense discipline. Rather, there happened to be a nearby small-town television station that on Sunday afternoons broadcast any number of these fight films under the heading of Kung Fu Theatre. This was before the days of home video – well, there weren’t affordable Betamax machines in our one-horse town, anyway – so we’d hunker down around the television set and enjoy whatever it was they were screening that lunchtime.
Like so many folks do (at a certain age), we ended up making fun of the goofy sound-dubbing work. Back in those days, the translations were almost exclusively awful. But what we did learn was that all of these flicks – big and small – functioned from a pretty universal formula:
- Boy becomes hero
- Hero loses stature
- Fallen hero undergoes training metamorphosis
- New hero emerges to save the day.
Of course, there were any number of minor variations to this framework. Honestly, most of the divergences from what I recall involved the villains more than they did the lead – occasionally, even the baddies were tragically flawed, or they were sometimes ‘blessed’ with super-special almost superhero-like strength or gadgets that became their lethal gimmick. But before all was said and done, the hero recovered his place in the community by rising up, kicking butt, and never thinking twice about taking names.
Thankfully, I don’t have to stretch my imagination all that far to enjoy a little something something like One-Armed Boxer (1972). Like the films of my younger days, it fit easily into the methodology. Our lead rises and falls and rises with the best of them, only this time the gimmick ended up being attached (erm … or is that unattached?) to him: when he comes to that midpoint narrative crossroads when failure is required, he ends up losing an arm.
Ouch. That’s gotta sting.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page:
“After his schoolmate and master is killed and he loses an arm, student Tien Lung has to learn the art of one-armed boxing.”
Just for the sake of argument, let’s all assume that there is a form of – ahem – one-armed boxing or – as it’s known in the feature somewhat of the same name – the ‘Crippled Hand Technique.’ Also, let’s assume that it’s medically possible to remove all nerve-endings from your hand by subjecting it to a soul-crushing dip into a burning fire. Last but not least, let’s all agree the mastery of an entirely new way of fighting can be achieved within a handful of months. Now if we can all agree on these points then One-Armed Boxer makes perfect narrative sense for both you and I.
In all seriousness, Boxer is exactly the kind of film I’d cut my teeth on in those afore-mentioned high school years. It follows the traditional riches-to-rags-back-to-fighting-riches cut-and-paste that services the plot for many a kung fu film. And as many of these films did Boxer also serves up a love interest whose heart our hero Tien is sure to clinch if he can face down those adversaries who took everything (and his arm!) from him, win the day, and emerge with life and … well … limb.
These films always told stories on their own economy, leaving very little room for deep and meaningful subtext of any type. What mattered most was how many fights could be squeezed in between the opening and closing credits, and plot developments were truly engineered to maximize the potential for even more fisticuffs when the audience least expected them. Their gimmicks – a previously unheard of form of kung fu, some kind of triple-headed spear, or even a man with one arm – were all well and good because they rarely stood in the way of a good throwdown; rather, they gave choreographers yet one more trick up their sleeve (pun intended) to raise the stakes.
In fact, I’ve always thought of them this way: it’s like someone called for a physical showdown, and the idea of shooting it as a movie broke out secondarily.
What makes Boxer different (besides its namesake fighter) is the cast of heavies showing up to wreak havoc on this otherwise quiet suburb. Writer/director Jimmy Wang Yu fills out the cast with an assortment of martial artists of varying disciplines, giving each combatant a unique style and approach to exchanging blows that requires our hero and his comrades to adapt. (Heck, one of the heavies even sports doglike canine teeth!) As you can guess, the good guys initially are not up to the task, putting Tien in dire straits that finishes with his devastating loss of five fingers and a thumb. (Yes, it’s all delivered with unintended laughs. So sue me!) Yet, a fall from grace was required; otherwise, he wouldn’t return … with the ability to kill a man with a single blow!
Still, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that Boxer has some incredible camera work. It’s all shot and framed with great focus on the fighting (that’s what put the butts in the seats, after all), though some of the fight choreography looks a bit too well rehearsed. Thematically, these flicks have always been similar to America’s Westerns, and Jimmy Wang Yu and cinematographer Shen-Ku Mou keep the action coming as fast and as furious as they can, slowing down only long enough for a death here and there or for someone … well, our hero … to lose an arm. That’s frankly no big deal as it only serves as the catalyst here for more impressive pacing later on once Tien proves, definitively, that he can best all even with one hand tied behind his back.
“After his schoolmate and master is killed and he loses an arm, student Tien Lung has to learn the art of one-armed boxing.”
Just for the sake of argument, let’s all assume that there is a form of – ahem – one-armed boxing or – as it’s known in the feature somewhat of the same name – the ‘Crippled Hand Technique.’ Also, let’s assume that it’s medically possible to remove all nerve-endings from your hand by subjecting it to a soul-crushing dip into a burning fire. Last but not least, let’s all agree the mastery of an entirely new way of fighting can be achieved within a handful of months. Now if we can all agree on these points then One-Armed Boxer makes perfect narrative sense for both you and I.
In all seriousness, Boxer is exactly the kind of film I’d cut my teeth on in those afore-mentioned high school years. It follows the traditional riches-to-rags-back-to-fighting-riches cut-and-paste that services the plot for many a kung fu film. And as many of these films did Boxer also serves up a love interest whose heart our hero Tien is sure to clinch if he can face down those adversaries who took everything (and his arm!) from him, win the day, and emerge with life and … well … limb.
These films always told stories on their own economy, leaving very little room for deep and meaningful subtext of any type. What mattered most was how many fights could be squeezed in between the opening and closing credits, and plot developments were truly engineered to maximize the potential for even more fisticuffs when the audience least expected them. Their gimmicks – a previously unheard of form of kung fu, some kind of triple-headed spear, or even a man with one arm – were all well and good because they rarely stood in the way of a good throwdown; rather, they gave choreographers yet one more trick up their sleeve (pun intended) to raise the stakes.
In fact, I’ve always thought of them this way: it’s like someone called for a physical showdown, and the idea of shooting it as a movie broke out secondarily.
What makes Boxer different (besides its namesake fighter) is the cast of heavies showing up to wreak havoc on this otherwise quiet suburb. Writer/director Jimmy Wang Yu fills out the cast with an assortment of martial artists of varying disciplines, giving each combatant a unique style and approach to exchanging blows that requires our hero and his comrades to adapt. (Heck, one of the heavies even sports doglike canine teeth!) As you can guess, the good guys initially are not up to the task, putting Tien in dire straits that finishes with his devastating loss of five fingers and a thumb. (Yes, it’s all delivered with unintended laughs. So sue me!) Yet, a fall from grace was required; otherwise, he wouldn’t return … with the ability to kill a man with a single blow!
Still, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that Boxer has some incredible camera work. It’s all shot and framed with great focus on the fighting (that’s what put the butts in the seats, after all), though some of the fight choreography looks a bit too well rehearsed. Thematically, these flicks have always been similar to America’s Westerns, and Jimmy Wang Yu and cinematographer Shen-Ku Mou keep the action coming as fast and as furious as they can, slowing down only long enough for a death here and there or for someone … well, our hero … to lose an arm. That’s frankly no big deal as it only serves as the catalyst here for more impressive pacing later on once Tien proves, definitively, that he can best all even with one hand tied behind his back.
As these flicks go, Boxer is a winner. Hands down. Erm … hand.
One Armed Boxer (1972) was produced by Cathay Studios, Cheung Ming Film, and Golden Harvest Company. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by Arrow Video Films.
As for the technical specifications? Sweet mother of dragons, this print looks fabulous! Having watched so many of these films growing up, I really had low expectations on how good the transfer would be … but this looks like it was digitally recorded just yesterday! Honestly, the sound was a bit underwhelming in a handful of places, but – if I’m being perfectly honest – most folks don’t go into one of these flicks looking for riveting speeches anyway. It’s good, but I found it strikingly average, personally.
As for the special features? Arrow hasn’t grown to be one of the best in the business by short-changing folks, and Boxer delivers. There’s a commentary track (provided by Frank Djeng, a Blu-ray producer and expert in the field of Kung Fu cinema); an extended interview; a collector’s booklet (with essays and extended product information); an assortment of trailers and adverts specific to the film; and a photo gallery. Again: if Arrow’s name is on the packaging, a good rule of thumb is that you’re in for a treat.
Highly recommended. The first rule of fight films is that you have to enjoy the fight, and One-Armed Boxer manages to deliver the goods while sticking true to the very predictable formula. Still, it’s glorious fun – if you know what you’re getting into – and a delight to behold from beginning to finish. There’s a modest amount of blood – there always is with these flicks – but losing an arm was surprisingly bloodless. Pop some corn. Put the wife to bed. It’s fight time, boys. Let’s get ready to rumble.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of One-Armed Boxer (1972) 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
One Armed Boxer (1972) was produced by Cathay Studios, Cheung Ming Film, and Golden Harvest Company. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by Arrow Video Films.
As for the technical specifications? Sweet mother of dragons, this print looks fabulous! Having watched so many of these films growing up, I really had low expectations on how good the transfer would be … but this looks like it was digitally recorded just yesterday! Honestly, the sound was a bit underwhelming in a handful of places, but – if I’m being perfectly honest – most folks don’t go into one of these flicks looking for riveting speeches anyway. It’s good, but I found it strikingly average, personally.
As for the special features? Arrow hasn’t grown to be one of the best in the business by short-changing folks, and Boxer delivers. There’s a commentary track (provided by Frank Djeng, a Blu-ray producer and expert in the field of Kung Fu cinema); an extended interview; a collector’s booklet (with essays and extended product information); an assortment of trailers and adverts specific to the film; and a photo gallery. Again: if Arrow’s name is on the packaging, a good rule of thumb is that you’re in for a treat.
Highly recommended. The first rule of fight films is that you have to enjoy the fight, and One-Armed Boxer manages to deliver the goods while sticking true to the very predictable formula. Still, it’s glorious fun – if you know what you’re getting into – and a delight to behold from beginning to finish. There’s a modest amount of blood – there always is with these flicks – but losing an arm was surprisingly bloodless. Pop some corn. Put the wife to bed. It’s fight time, boys. Let’s get ready to rumble.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of One-Armed Boxer (1972) 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
Apologies, folks, as I'm just getting around to a few remarks on the passing of actor Bo Hopkins. Honestly, I'm just seeing the announcement this morning -- it landed on my desk via an email newsletter, and I hadn't seen mention in the mainstream press at all -- so I wanted to pass it along for readers.
Life is funny, no? I had just recently been thinking about the man as per my review for Tentacles (1977), a relatively recent release from Kino Lorber. While I'll concede he did good work in the flick, I honestly felt he was also a bit miscast: he just didn't quite seem the part of the somewhat vengeful marine biologist, but -- to be blunt -- the script wasn't all that great. The film was basically a Jaws knock-off intending to capitalize on that picture's popularity; the subpar effects and a handful of bland performances by a still impressive roster of talent just make the experience more forgettable than anything else.
A quick glance at Hopkins' IMDB.com profiles doesn't show an awful lot of genre work. It seems to me that the man -- more often than not -- was cast as a bit of a heavy, maybe not a leading villain but probably still a figure requiring a bit of malice in his bones.
Though he made his professional debut in 1966, it wasn't until the next year -- in an episode of the popular serial The Wild Wild West -- that he stepped into genre. He followed that up with what looks to be a lot of conventional Westerns for a variety of studios. 1977 brought the aforementioned Tentacles; and, in 1979, he enjoyed a guest appearance to the short-lived SciFi-lite series Supertrain. Then it wouldn't be all the way until 1998's Phantoms that he dipped back into Science Fiction and Fantasy, following that up the very next year with a role in From Dusk Till Dawn 2: Texas Blood Money.
As I often say, none of us lasts forever, but I'm forever thankful that we have the work these artisans and craftsmen leave behind for us to continue studying their time in this plane of existence.
Thoughts and prayers are extended to the family and friends of Mr. Hopkins.
-- EZ
Life is funny, no? I had just recently been thinking about the man as per my review for Tentacles (1977), a relatively recent release from Kino Lorber. While I'll concede he did good work in the flick, I honestly felt he was also a bit miscast: he just didn't quite seem the part of the somewhat vengeful marine biologist, but -- to be blunt -- the script wasn't all that great. The film was basically a Jaws knock-off intending to capitalize on that picture's popularity; the subpar effects and a handful of bland performances by a still impressive roster of talent just make the experience more forgettable than anything else.
A quick glance at Hopkins' IMDB.com profiles doesn't show an awful lot of genre work. It seems to me that the man -- more often than not -- was cast as a bit of a heavy, maybe not a leading villain but probably still a figure requiring a bit of malice in his bones.
Though he made his professional debut in 1966, it wasn't until the next year -- in an episode of the popular serial The Wild Wild West -- that he stepped into genre. He followed that up with what looks to be a lot of conventional Westerns for a variety of studios. 1977 brought the aforementioned Tentacles; and, in 1979, he enjoyed a guest appearance to the short-lived SciFi-lite series Supertrain. Then it wouldn't be all the way until 1998's Phantoms that he dipped back into Science Fiction and Fantasy, following that up the very next year with a role in From Dusk Till Dawn 2: Texas Blood Money.
As I often say, none of us lasts forever, but I'm forever thankful that we have the work these artisans and craftsmen leave behind for us to continue studying their time in this plane of existence.
Thoughts and prayers are extended to the family and friends of Mr. Hopkins.
-- EZ
- Published on
So the wifey and I are at the Great American Movieplex just the other day -- incidentally, we saw Top Gun: Maverick, and it's nothing short of fabulous, readers -- and we're kinda/sorta looking over the available choices, realizing that the mighty COVID after effect still lingers on. You know what I'm talking about? Hollywood has seen fit to have all of the screens available and yet it would seem that there's so very little new under the sun for exhibitors to play for audiences. A good many of the films are -- sigh -- months old, and the coming attractions didn't exactly give us hope that an ambitious new crop of flicks were waiting in the wings. COVID derailed us culturally, socially, psychologically ... and its effects are still being felt in a whole host of unintended ways.
(Don't worry: I'm not gonna rail on politicians for doing this to us, but I will say, yes, I think they pulled a fast one on us.)
After the show, we sat and had a meal. Over lunch, I pulled up a list of what the movers and shakers predict to be the summer's biggest hits; lo and behold, a good many of them I'd never even heard of, nor did I have much interest in seeing them. Honestly, there were even a few titles whose list of credits didn't offer any of the usual summer suspects, so methinks we're in for some dark days so far as the entertainment business looks on the looming horizon.
In any event, I did stumble across a little something something that (A) I'd never heard of and (B) actually looked quite fetching: The Princess (2022) looks to be hitting 'the Hulu' this July, giving up'n'comer Joey King another shot at screen glory. In case you're unaware of who she is, I do recall that back about five or six years ago I'd read how she was being prepped as 'the next big young actress' as Independence Day: Resurgence was heading to screens. Alas, that picture was pretty much a dead, and -- though she's continued working, of course -- I can't help but wonder if her career trajectory was stalled just a bit by that alien invasion retread. By comparison, The Princess has a great Action/Comedy vibe; I only suggest that everyone keep in mind that trailers can be misleading and should never be considered the be-all-end-all of best predicters.
Trailer is below. You folks know what to do about that.
(Don't worry: I'm not gonna rail on politicians for doing this to us, but I will say, yes, I think they pulled a fast one on us.)
After the show, we sat and had a meal. Over lunch, I pulled up a list of what the movers and shakers predict to be the summer's biggest hits; lo and behold, a good many of them I'd never even heard of, nor did I have much interest in seeing them. Honestly, there were even a few titles whose list of credits didn't offer any of the usual summer suspects, so methinks we're in for some dark days so far as the entertainment business looks on the looming horizon.
In any event, I did stumble across a little something something that (A) I'd never heard of and (B) actually looked quite fetching: The Princess (2022) looks to be hitting 'the Hulu' this July, giving up'n'comer Joey King another shot at screen glory. In case you're unaware of who she is, I do recall that back about five or six years ago I'd read how she was being prepped as 'the next big young actress' as Independence Day: Resurgence was heading to screens. Alas, that picture was pretty much a dead, and -- though she's continued working, of course -- I can't help but wonder if her career trajectory was stalled just a bit by that alien invasion retread. By comparison, The Princess has a great Action/Comedy vibe; I only suggest that everyone keep in mind that trailers can be misleading and should never be considered the be-all-end-all of best predicters.
Trailer is below. You folks know what to do about that.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
-- EZ