- Published on
Within much of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror features, the greatest genre overlap tends to be surrounding the traditional monster movie.
These monsters are typically created by science gone awry, which helps to firmly plant their feet – even the clawed or hooved ones – in the realm of SciFi. Occasionally, they end up getting superhuman strength or some kind of ominous power or superpower, which shifts the focus closer to cinematic Fantasy. Lastly, the resulting reign of terror – for which many a monster wages or he wouldn’t really be able to call himself a monster – practically tramples into the world of Horror. Naturally, it’s easy to see how this intersection might confuse viewers as to what genre of film they’re actually watching, and that’s why I offer this cursory explanation. They’re truly hybrids in the best definition of the word.
Still, what unifies all of the best monster movies is the fact that the audience – more often than not – feels a measure of sympathy for the beast. This usually doesn’t take place at the outset but rather it’s a revelation viewers come to as a response to these evolving circumstances. Rarely does the monster wish to become that which is feared by so many, but now that he is few people can see past his gruesome outer shell into the tortured soul that lies deep within. Cut off from even the most benign support systems, he grows more and more despondent with each passing development, and his eventual lashing out becomes the only means for him to express the rage of his isolation. The audience wouldn’t want to be him – they wouldn’t trade places with him for all the money in the world – and this typically bolsters pity to displace their disgust.
In the crème de la crème of the creature features, he who is most vile even typically sacrifices himself in the last reel. Sometimes this is to save himself but more often it’s to save those around him who then suffer an epiphany, only realizing in that moment that he – that abomination of nature – was truly “the better man.” Although these scenes tend to feel a bit formulaic, they’re necessary to preserve the moral of the story … that being to never judge a book by its cover … even if that book threatens to eat you alive.
Many great B-Movies flirt with ‘monstery’ greatness. Sting Of Death (1966) may not be a great film – by practically any estimation – but it does have a finish deserving some attention.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging:
“… a boatload of bikini babes partying on the edge of the Everglades are menaced by a vengeful half-man half-jellyfish in Sting Of Death – the only film to feature hip young teens twisting to a tune by the name of ‘The Jellyfish Song!’”
B-Movies have an almost Sisyphean challenge to overcome every time they’re attempted.
Their producers rarely have the kind of money, patience, and talent required to winningly bring their particular vision to award-winning life, and often times what they lack in resources they make up with the right narrative sentiment. This may be only a handful of moments delivered with just the right aplomb – as is arguably the case with Sting Of Death, a somewhat laughably entry into the whole half-man-half-beast subset of Fantasy films – and I suppose the hope is audiences might see past what obviously ails the picture to find a nugget not so much of gold as it is common sense.
These monsters are typically created by science gone awry, which helps to firmly plant their feet – even the clawed or hooved ones – in the realm of SciFi. Occasionally, they end up getting superhuman strength or some kind of ominous power or superpower, which shifts the focus closer to cinematic Fantasy. Lastly, the resulting reign of terror – for which many a monster wages or he wouldn’t really be able to call himself a monster – practically tramples into the world of Horror. Naturally, it’s easy to see how this intersection might confuse viewers as to what genre of film they’re actually watching, and that’s why I offer this cursory explanation. They’re truly hybrids in the best definition of the word.
Still, what unifies all of the best monster movies is the fact that the audience – more often than not – feels a measure of sympathy for the beast. This usually doesn’t take place at the outset but rather it’s a revelation viewers come to as a response to these evolving circumstances. Rarely does the monster wish to become that which is feared by so many, but now that he is few people can see past his gruesome outer shell into the tortured soul that lies deep within. Cut off from even the most benign support systems, he grows more and more despondent with each passing development, and his eventual lashing out becomes the only means for him to express the rage of his isolation. The audience wouldn’t want to be him – they wouldn’t trade places with him for all the money in the world – and this typically bolsters pity to displace their disgust.
In the crème de la crème of the creature features, he who is most vile even typically sacrifices himself in the last reel. Sometimes this is to save himself but more often it’s to save those around him who then suffer an epiphany, only realizing in that moment that he – that abomination of nature – was truly “the better man.” Although these scenes tend to feel a bit formulaic, they’re necessary to preserve the moral of the story … that being to never judge a book by its cover … even if that book threatens to eat you alive.
Many great B-Movies flirt with ‘monstery’ greatness. Sting Of Death (1966) may not be a great film – by practically any estimation – but it does have a finish deserving some attention.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging:
“… a boatload of bikini babes partying on the edge of the Everglades are menaced by a vengeful half-man half-jellyfish in Sting Of Death – the only film to feature hip young teens twisting to a tune by the name of ‘The Jellyfish Song!’”
B-Movies have an almost Sisyphean challenge to overcome every time they’re attempted.
Their producers rarely have the kind of money, patience, and talent required to winningly bring their particular vision to award-winning life, and often times what they lack in resources they make up with the right narrative sentiment. This may be only a handful of moments delivered with just the right aplomb – as is arguably the case with Sting Of Death, a somewhat laughably entry into the whole half-man-half-beast subset of Fantasy films – and I suppose the hope is audiences might see past what obviously ails the picture to find a nugget not so much of gold as it is common sense.
Grindhouse and exploitation auteur William Grefe does the best he can with the material here. This isolated Florida paradise looks more like your uncle’s winter home; this dirty waterway filled with hungry jellyfish looks more like a Mississippi tributary polluted with discarded Glad bags; and this lumbering creature who’s part-man part-fish looks like a man in an ugly wetsuit with a trashcan liner over his head! When the best Grefe can do is pepper the screen with a bevy of lovely damsels-in-distress – each one a bit more delicious to look at than the last, though there’s no real skin on display – you learn to be thankful for small miracles.
Otherwise, Sting is – ahem – a lot of stink.
It’s filled with overlong and overwrought takes of these young’uns dancing to some groovy 1960’s music, unusually extended takes of airboats racing across the Florida wetlands, and some of the most laughably delivered moments of tension this side of an Ed Wood production. It’s surprisingly bereft of tension – legitimate horror practically requires there be some sequences of true peril, but the best that’s delivered is probably in the last reel when man and beast have no choice but to trade blows more because they’re in a cramped underwater cavern with no respective elbow room than because they’re thrust into mortal combat.
Sigh.
As B-Movies go, there’s really very little to celebrate here, so I won’t belabor the review, but since I do so love monster stories I have to give props to Sting’s finale: once he’s down for the count, the fallen brute does order his human adversary to save the woman he loves. There’s that ‘pure of heart’ moment fans expect from the noble, misunderstood creature, and Grefe (at least) gets that right in this otherwise 80-minute waterlogged melodrama set to go-go music.
Sting Of Death (1966) is produced by Essen Productions, Inc. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by the reliable Arrow Video. As for the technical specifications? Well, this one looks and sounds probably as good as it did back in its day, so I really can’t complain there. As for the special features? There’s a nice audio commentary and a few documentary-style extras you can spend a little with … if you’re truly interested. Nothing all that revelatory was learned, but it’s still nice to have ‘em.
(Mildly) Recommended. I know, I know, I know. Anyone who’s seen this film know that it’s a stinker, but I’m a sucker for good monster moments, and the ending – as flawed as the rest of the film may be – actually musters up a fairly decent creature feature ending. But, yes, at even a slim 80 minutes this effort is entirely too long. It could be better served as a 30-minute episode of an anthology series like The Twilight Zone, but as a standalone it’s bloated beyond belief in order to get to a serviceable run time. Silly. Too silly. Painfully so.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video provided me with a Blu-ray Disc of Sting Of Death 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
Otherwise, Sting is – ahem – a lot of stink.
It’s filled with overlong and overwrought takes of these young’uns dancing to some groovy 1960’s music, unusually extended takes of airboats racing across the Florida wetlands, and some of the most laughably delivered moments of tension this side of an Ed Wood production. It’s surprisingly bereft of tension – legitimate horror practically requires there be some sequences of true peril, but the best that’s delivered is probably in the last reel when man and beast have no choice but to trade blows more because they’re in a cramped underwater cavern with no respective elbow room than because they’re thrust into mortal combat.
Sigh.
As B-Movies go, there’s really very little to celebrate here, so I won’t belabor the review, but since I do so love monster stories I have to give props to Sting’s finale: once he’s down for the count, the fallen brute does order his human adversary to save the woman he loves. There’s that ‘pure of heart’ moment fans expect from the noble, misunderstood creature, and Grefe (at least) gets that right in this otherwise 80-minute waterlogged melodrama set to go-go music.
Sting Of Death (1966) is produced by Essen Productions, Inc. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by the reliable Arrow Video. As for the technical specifications? Well, this one looks and sounds probably as good as it did back in its day, so I really can’t complain there. As for the special features? There’s a nice audio commentary and a few documentary-style extras you can spend a little with … if you’re truly interested. Nothing all that revelatory was learned, but it’s still nice to have ‘em.
(Mildly) Recommended. I know, I know, I know. Anyone who’s seen this film know that it’s a stinker, but I’m a sucker for good monster moments, and the ending – as flawed as the rest of the film may be – actually musters up a fairly decent creature feature ending. But, yes, at even a slim 80 minutes this effort is entirely too long. It could be better served as a 30-minute episode of an anthology series like The Twilight Zone, but as a standalone it’s bloated beyond belief in order to get to a serviceable run time. Silly. Too silly. Painfully so.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video provided me with a Blu-ray Disc of Sting Of Death 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
Ahhh, the great William Lucking.
I do watch television shows outside of Science Fiction and Fantasy; and one of those that I enjoyed very much (up until its last season) was FX's stellar crime drama Sons Of Anarchy. The program rather deftly explored the behind-the-scenes political-style machinations of the modern era motorcycle gang, giving almost Greek tragedy depth to what might otherwise be a relatively conventional yarn -- though bloody -- about love, loss, and respect. Though I suspect it could be easy to dismantle some of its plotlines as a bit too fanciful to be authentic, it was really much more about these friendships and the struggles to keep order amongst the obvious chaos than anything else. Lastly, it had one of the best ensembles of any drama in the past few decades ... of which the great William Lucking played a part.
I can leave Sons right there, at this juncture, as this great actor has some quality genre appearances in his wide resume. With over one hundred and fifty different credits to his name, he managed to dip time-and-again into our favored realms with roles in such properties as Captain America II: Death Too Soon (1979), The Incredible Hulk, The Greatest American Hero, Voyagers!, Tales Of The Gold Monkey, Knight Rider, Duplicates (1992), The X-Files, The Pretender, Millennium, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, K-PAX (2001), and Star Trek: Enterprise. He was a big fellow -- clocking in at an impressive six foot four inches -- and as such was often cast as a mild heavy or person of authority in everything I can recall, but I thought there was a nice current of humanity that rang through in practically everything he played.
He will be missed.
Prayers and salutations go out to Lucking's family and friends in their time of need.
-- EZ
I do watch television shows outside of Science Fiction and Fantasy; and one of those that I enjoyed very much (up until its last season) was FX's stellar crime drama Sons Of Anarchy. The program rather deftly explored the behind-the-scenes political-style machinations of the modern era motorcycle gang, giving almost Greek tragedy depth to what might otherwise be a relatively conventional yarn -- though bloody -- about love, loss, and respect. Though I suspect it could be easy to dismantle some of its plotlines as a bit too fanciful to be authentic, it was really much more about these friendships and the struggles to keep order amongst the obvious chaos than anything else. Lastly, it had one of the best ensembles of any drama in the past few decades ... of which the great William Lucking played a part.
I can leave Sons right there, at this juncture, as this great actor has some quality genre appearances in his wide resume. With over one hundred and fifty different credits to his name, he managed to dip time-and-again into our favored realms with roles in such properties as Captain America II: Death Too Soon (1979), The Incredible Hulk, The Greatest American Hero, Voyagers!, Tales Of The Gold Monkey, Knight Rider, Duplicates (1992), The X-Files, The Pretender, Millennium, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, K-PAX (2001), and Star Trek: Enterprise. He was a big fellow -- clocking in at an impressive six foot four inches -- and as such was often cast as a mild heavy or person of authority in everything I can recall, but I thought there was a nice current of humanity that rang through in practically everything he played.
He will be missed.
Prayers and salutations go out to Lucking's family and friends in their time of need.
-- EZ
- Published on
I’ve always struggled with silent films.
Having grown up well after silent films went out of style, I struggled to find the appeal of them back in the days when I was studying features a bit more closely in college courses. For starters, everyone then (as everyone now) knows my personal preference lie in genre films – SciFi, Fantasy, Horror, Mysteries, etc. – and most of the available library of silent pictures were far more conventional dramas and comedies. Yes, I did eventually discover Metropolis – which I adore (with some quibbles, naturally) – and a few smaller titles; but SciFi really didn’t find a lasting foothold in Hollywood and beyond until the 1950’s, so I left the silent stuff to be explored by classmates.
When I transitioned into doing film and product reviews on-the-web a few decades back, I did eventually start to probe a bit further into history. As a consequence, I discovered a few more titles to enhance my greater appreciation of what was out there; still, the silent features I watched rarely had anything beyond the occasional novelty that might draw me back to them. Every now and then, some clever camera trickery or an inspired performance caught my eye. Eventually, I realized that perhaps the era of silent storytelling just wasn’t going to tickle my fancy the way it did others, so I opted to only keep my eyes peeled for something truly different to explore.
Thankfully, Filibus came along recently. This 1915 caper delivers a better-than-average experience viewers can marvel over, and the fact that – yes!!! – it falls smack dab in the middle of genre entertainment inspired me to seek out and explore a bit more about its production, some facts I’m happy to share with you after the break.
(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 three paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging:
“Flying high above the clouds in her dirigible, Filibus, the mysterious sky pirate, is a master of disguise and the scourge of millionaires, banks, and the police. Lowered in a gondola by her henchmen, Filibus steals from the rich and then mysteriously vanishes into the clouds.”
Occasionally, films of a certain era manage to sneak past those who would stifle some political or social messaging of their day; and Filibus surprisingly dabbled with subjects I suspect many would’ve found more than a bit taboo. Granted, some of these ideas don’t exactly pound a drum loud enough for every Tom, Dick, and Harry to hear; but viewers watching closely might be delighted (or aghast) at some of what director Mario Roncoroni and screenwriter Giovanni Bertinetti squeezed into these 70 minutes.
First, a little education is in order …
In the early days of Science Fiction novels, SciFi rarely explored the forward-thinking technologies of tomorrow. More often than not, these founding works looked at the intersection of society and culture: how do we build the world of tomorrow, what type of society must we become in order to properly greet the future, how can we harness what we have today to set us on a destined path, etc. Sadly, most folks who write about Science Fiction these days either don’t know that fact or they abhor it, and they instead focus on spaceships, ray guns, time travel, and the like. I don’t say this to belittle anyone’s work: rather, I’m trying to place this film within the greater context of its era in order to explain a fraction of what makes it extraordinary.
Ideas like suffragette, gender differences, and even class warfare? Believe it or not, they were at one time the province of the realm of Science Fiction. (Today? They’re just headline news.) In the 1800’s and early 1900’s, these topics represented a culture ‘advanced’ beyond the present, so perhaps it was only natural to incorporate these related works into a genre that looked ahead as opposed to backward. There were other tomes – ones written by Mary Shelley, Jules Verne, and H.G. Wells – that obviously drifted much closer to what we today align with our own working definition of SciFi, but can imagine what the shelves of a Barnes & Noble may’ve looked like in 1915?
This reality is precisely why Filibus – as a character and as a film – was considered Science Fiction.
Filibus (played by Valeria Creti) – as a woman – led a life of high adventure, and that was something books and film attached to men. Essentially, this sky pirate was a thief who preyed on the upper class; and this kind of high-stakes profession was also more easily attributed to males of the period than the kinder sex. She commanded a crew of men to do her bidding, harnessed the gifts of science to stay aloft in the heavens … and I think you can see where all of this is heading: this daring young woman was leading a life fiction typically granted only to men.
But progress didn’t stop there …
Having grown up well after silent films went out of style, I struggled to find the appeal of them back in the days when I was studying features a bit more closely in college courses. For starters, everyone then (as everyone now) knows my personal preference lie in genre films – SciFi, Fantasy, Horror, Mysteries, etc. – and most of the available library of silent pictures were far more conventional dramas and comedies. Yes, I did eventually discover Metropolis – which I adore (with some quibbles, naturally) – and a few smaller titles; but SciFi really didn’t find a lasting foothold in Hollywood and beyond until the 1950’s, so I left the silent stuff to be explored by classmates.
When I transitioned into doing film and product reviews on-the-web a few decades back, I did eventually start to probe a bit further into history. As a consequence, I discovered a few more titles to enhance my greater appreciation of what was out there; still, the silent features I watched rarely had anything beyond the occasional novelty that might draw me back to them. Every now and then, some clever camera trickery or an inspired performance caught my eye. Eventually, I realized that perhaps the era of silent storytelling just wasn’t going to tickle my fancy the way it did others, so I opted to only keep my eyes peeled for something truly different to explore.
Thankfully, Filibus came along recently. This 1915 caper delivers a better-than-average experience viewers can marvel over, and the fact that – yes!!! – it falls smack dab in the middle of genre entertainment inspired me to seek out and explore a bit more about its production, some facts I’m happy to share with you after the break.
(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 three paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging:
“Flying high above the clouds in her dirigible, Filibus, the mysterious sky pirate, is a master of disguise and the scourge of millionaires, banks, and the police. Lowered in a gondola by her henchmen, Filibus steals from the rich and then mysteriously vanishes into the clouds.”
Occasionally, films of a certain era manage to sneak past those who would stifle some political or social messaging of their day; and Filibus surprisingly dabbled with subjects I suspect many would’ve found more than a bit taboo. Granted, some of these ideas don’t exactly pound a drum loud enough for every Tom, Dick, and Harry to hear; but viewers watching closely might be delighted (or aghast) at some of what director Mario Roncoroni and screenwriter Giovanni Bertinetti squeezed into these 70 minutes.
First, a little education is in order …
In the early days of Science Fiction novels, SciFi rarely explored the forward-thinking technologies of tomorrow. More often than not, these founding works looked at the intersection of society and culture: how do we build the world of tomorrow, what type of society must we become in order to properly greet the future, how can we harness what we have today to set us on a destined path, etc. Sadly, most folks who write about Science Fiction these days either don’t know that fact or they abhor it, and they instead focus on spaceships, ray guns, time travel, and the like. I don’t say this to belittle anyone’s work: rather, I’m trying to place this film within the greater context of its era in order to explain a fraction of what makes it extraordinary.
Ideas like suffragette, gender differences, and even class warfare? Believe it or not, they were at one time the province of the realm of Science Fiction. (Today? They’re just headline news.) In the 1800’s and early 1900’s, these topics represented a culture ‘advanced’ beyond the present, so perhaps it was only natural to incorporate these related works into a genre that looked ahead as opposed to backward. There were other tomes – ones written by Mary Shelley, Jules Verne, and H.G. Wells – that obviously drifted much closer to what we today align with our own working definition of SciFi, but can imagine what the shelves of a Barnes & Noble may’ve looked like in 1915?
This reality is precisely why Filibus – as a character and as a film – was considered Science Fiction.
Filibus (played by Valeria Creti) – as a woman – led a life of high adventure, and that was something books and film attached to men. Essentially, this sky pirate was a thief who preyed on the upper class; and this kind of high-stakes profession was also more easily attributed to males of the period than the kinder sex. She commanded a crew of men to do her bidding, harnessed the gifts of science to stay aloft in the heavens … and I think you can see where all of this is heading: this daring young woman was leading a life fiction typically granted only to men.
But progress didn’t stop there …
If you watch her story, you’ll find that Filibus wasn’t content to just seize the reins of a manly existence: she often dressed the part! In times when she realized her nefarious deeds required a disguise, Filibus walked among her adversaries disguised as a man. While other films of the day may’ve used this to comic effect, Bertinetti’s script played these serious, even going so far as to mildly suggest Filibus’s flirtations with other women of a decidedly sexual nature. In fact, it’s only after the lovely Leonora (Cristina Ruspoli) is eventually spurned by our hero that she decides to settle down and accept the proposal of marriage to an interested male suitor.
So was Filibus the first openly Lesbian portrayal on film?
I’ve no way to know that for certain, but I daresay that it’s the oldest of record I’ve been able to locate. By putting gender stereotypes on their head, the film certainly flirted with ideas still found a bit controversial (in certain quarters) to this day, and I can’t help but wonder what everyone involved in the production thought of all this.
Even as a traditional film, there’s still enough charm to recommend it. The effects – though obviously dated – work just fine for what they’re meant to achieve here, bringing the airship to life amongst the clouds. No doubt some of these sequences might bring some unintended laughs from today’s viewers – how could you ever sneak up on anyone on the ground while flying this massive metallic blimp overhead? – but those are the typical barbs thrown about by those dissecting features based entirely on modern structure.
Why, shouldn’t we be more interested in how Filibus was, perhaps, the James Bond of her day? She’s loaded with cutting edge technology, leading a life of adventure, and perhaps fulfilling a lifelong dream to be a gender-bender icon? Men don’t frighten her, even women are swooning at the prospect of being near here, and – if diamonds are a girl’s best friend – will she stop at nothing to have two of biggest on record for her very own? These are the reasons to enjoy this film.
I’ve done some casual reading into the studio behind it, and Corona Film only lasted a few years. It looks as though they launched Filibus as what we’d call today a potential ‘franchise’ property with several other adventures intended for production. Alas, Italy answered the call for World War I, and the studio was shuttered. One can only imagine where we might be culturally and ideologically today if the world’s first cross-dressing Robin Hood was allowed to continue (and inspire) for a few more features. Scripter Bertinetti is remembered for his Science Fiction novels; could it be that he may’ve truly anticipated the future?
Filibus (1915) is produced by Corona Film. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by the very reliable Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? Well, this is clearly an extremely dated picture; as a consequence, I’d imagine those involved in its restoration had to go to great lengths to find usable negatives. Though the soundtrack has clearly been fully updated, the video is understandably grainy and occasionally distorted by decay. There is one sequence that’s (yowza) very poor; just grin and bear it as it lasts for about 10-15 seconds, obscuring much of what’s on the screen. Beyond that, the rest is good. As for the special features? Alas, there’s very little of what’s provided that pertains directly to Filibus, but the other cinema shorts common to the era are worth a look, even if only once.
Recommended. What’s difficult in recommending something as specifically thematic as Filibus is that its audience is a bit elusive. Clearly film aficionados might enjoy it, though I suspect it’s not a feature they’d return to all that often. Students of history (and, yes, film history, too) might find the picture’s pioneering perspective worthy of study (and maybe even a term paper or two), but again that’s a fairly narrow focus. And the movers and shakers in the LGBTQ+ movement could establish a kinship with it, seeing that what they stand for today may not be all that different than what artists and storytellers were putting on film over a century ago. Beyond those subsets, though, I found it only occasionally inventive enough to give it more than a passing mention as a genre flick.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray Disc of Filibus 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
So was Filibus the first openly Lesbian portrayal on film?
I’ve no way to know that for certain, but I daresay that it’s the oldest of record I’ve been able to locate. By putting gender stereotypes on their head, the film certainly flirted with ideas still found a bit controversial (in certain quarters) to this day, and I can’t help but wonder what everyone involved in the production thought of all this.
Even as a traditional film, there’s still enough charm to recommend it. The effects – though obviously dated – work just fine for what they’re meant to achieve here, bringing the airship to life amongst the clouds. No doubt some of these sequences might bring some unintended laughs from today’s viewers – how could you ever sneak up on anyone on the ground while flying this massive metallic blimp overhead? – but those are the typical barbs thrown about by those dissecting features based entirely on modern structure.
Why, shouldn’t we be more interested in how Filibus was, perhaps, the James Bond of her day? She’s loaded with cutting edge technology, leading a life of adventure, and perhaps fulfilling a lifelong dream to be a gender-bender icon? Men don’t frighten her, even women are swooning at the prospect of being near here, and – if diamonds are a girl’s best friend – will she stop at nothing to have two of biggest on record for her very own? These are the reasons to enjoy this film.
I’ve done some casual reading into the studio behind it, and Corona Film only lasted a few years. It looks as though they launched Filibus as what we’d call today a potential ‘franchise’ property with several other adventures intended for production. Alas, Italy answered the call for World War I, and the studio was shuttered. One can only imagine where we might be culturally and ideologically today if the world’s first cross-dressing Robin Hood was allowed to continue (and inspire) for a few more features. Scripter Bertinetti is remembered for his Science Fiction novels; could it be that he may’ve truly anticipated the future?
Filibus (1915) is produced by Corona Film. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by the very reliable Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? Well, this is clearly an extremely dated picture; as a consequence, I’d imagine those involved in its restoration had to go to great lengths to find usable negatives. Though the soundtrack has clearly been fully updated, the video is understandably grainy and occasionally distorted by decay. There is one sequence that’s (yowza) very poor; just grin and bear it as it lasts for about 10-15 seconds, obscuring much of what’s on the screen. Beyond that, the rest is good. As for the special features? Alas, there’s very little of what’s provided that pertains directly to Filibus, but the other cinema shorts common to the era are worth a look, even if only once.
Recommended. What’s difficult in recommending something as specifically thematic as Filibus is that its audience is a bit elusive. Clearly film aficionados might enjoy it, though I suspect it’s not a feature they’d return to all that often. Students of history (and, yes, film history, too) might find the picture’s pioneering perspective worthy of study (and maybe even a term paper or two), but again that’s a fairly narrow focus. And the movers and shakers in the LGBTQ+ movement could establish a kinship with it, seeing that what they stand for today may not be all that different than what artists and storytellers were putting on film over a century ago. Beyond those subsets, though, I found it only occasionally inventive enough to give it more than a passing mention as a genre flick.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray Disc of Filibus by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
I've often said that the beauty of maintaining a site like SciFiHistory.Net is that I can customize it to practically accomplish any job ... well, any job that I have time to complete, that is. And one of my biggest wishes is that I use this space to promote new and emerging genre projects -- film and print -- as well as the voices behind them.
(Seriously, authors: it costs you nothing to pen a quick press release and send it my way, and it costs me equally nothing to give it the proper SciFi ShoutOut in this space. Keep it in mind for future prospects, as I'm always willing to throw up a quick post.)
That said, might I draw your attention to the name Katherine Franklin?
Franklin's crafted an ambitious world for her debut novel, The Empyrean. (Kickstarter promotion page can be found right here.) In a universe where having emotions can be a crime, Franklin has developed warring factions, both intent on either controlling the other or seeing them destroyed. And how these governing principles affect the later generations is the stuff of magic that she plans to explore in this forthcoming book.
Important links:
Franklin's website
Franklin's Twitter
We here at SciFiHistory.Net are huge supporters of creative voices, and we encourage interested readers to check out Katherine Franklin has in process.
As always, thanks for reading … and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
(Seriously, authors: it costs you nothing to pen a quick press release and send it my way, and it costs me equally nothing to give it the proper SciFi ShoutOut in this space. Keep it in mind for future prospects, as I'm always willing to throw up a quick post.)
That said, might I draw your attention to the name Katherine Franklin?
Franklin's crafted an ambitious world for her debut novel, The Empyrean. (Kickstarter promotion page can be found right here.) In a universe where having emotions can be a crime, Franklin has developed warring factions, both intent on either controlling the other or seeing them destroyed. And how these governing principles affect the later generations is the stuff of magic that she plans to explore in this forthcoming book.
Important links:
Franklin's website
Franklin's Twitter
We here at SciFiHistory.Net are huge supporters of creative voices, and we encourage interested readers to check out Katherine Franklin has in process.
As always, thanks for reading … and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Have you ever wondered what truly makes a cult film?
No, I’m not talking about the dictionary definition, as I think everyone who writes, thinks, or talks about film understands the foundation. What I’m considering here is what ingredients make up a recipe so delicious (or detestable) that eventually woos an audience to embrace a feature that would otherwise be dismissed as a pure stinker? I’m always more concerned with the ‘why’ and the ‘how’ something happens, and precisely how a work of art evolves from possessing a small group of loyal followers to a growing number of fans has always fascinated me.
Honestly, my favorite example – though it’s a film that was admittedly made with more money and talent than most cult features – remains 1980’s Flash Gordon. Though largely dismissed by society-at-large as an unmitigated disaster, my friends and I revered it in our youth. Sure, we may’ve griped about some of the individual pieces – such is the nature of young’uns talking about film – but we saw this incarnation of the pop SciFi icon along with Dale Arden and Dr. Hans Zarkov as pure unbridled cinematic genius. It was bright! It was colorful! It had a soundtrack from Queen! Yes, we were alone in our estimation back then – I was never hip with the in-crowd – but decades later we’ve been kinda/sorta proven right in our respect for a film that may’ve otherwise disappeared from history if it hadn’t built a growing cult audience over the years.
Precisely how this happens for one flick and not others – even ones similar in shape and tone – remains one of mankind’s unsolved mysteries. No doubt it’ll continue to confound writers long after I’ve left his world.
All of this brings me to Mako: The Jaws Of Death (1976), an obvious exploitation feature conceived, directed, and produced by William Grefe, a name I hadn’t heard of but was vaguely familiar with some of his films. I’ve read that although he wrote this script before Steven Spielberg’s Jaws sunk its teeth into the worldwide box office but couldn’t get it financed until after that feature proved box office gold could be found beneath the sea. In all seriousness, the two films have nothing in common – except for the word Jaws shared in their respective titles – but it’s kinda/sorta still funny how one shark tale gained global adoration while another one only mustered a cult audience.
Let’s go for a swim …
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging:
“Mako: Jaws Of Death stars Richard Jaeckel as Sonny Stein, a man who develops the ability to communicate telepathically with man-eating sharks, allowing him to use the animals to attack anyone that crosses him.”
Let’s clear one thing up right away: Sonny Stein is no Aquaman.
There are plenty of really, really, really good reasons for which Mako has been maligned over the years. It’s a simple yarn – a fish story, as they say – about a man who somehow mystically discovers a kind of kinship with sharks. Like Dr. Doolittle talked with the animals, Sonny does, too … only this quiet and lonely drifter really doesn’t have much to say. Instead, he whiles away his life protecting them from – erm – shark poachers and evil scientists hell bent on … well, hell bent on understanding them or destroying them. (It’s never really clear.) The characters are all one-note and paper-thin – yes, even our hero – and it’s all delivered in perfunctory visual style by Grefe and his band of regulars.
No, I’m not talking about the dictionary definition, as I think everyone who writes, thinks, or talks about film understands the foundation. What I’m considering here is what ingredients make up a recipe so delicious (or detestable) that eventually woos an audience to embrace a feature that would otherwise be dismissed as a pure stinker? I’m always more concerned with the ‘why’ and the ‘how’ something happens, and precisely how a work of art evolves from possessing a small group of loyal followers to a growing number of fans has always fascinated me.
Honestly, my favorite example – though it’s a film that was admittedly made with more money and talent than most cult features – remains 1980’s Flash Gordon. Though largely dismissed by society-at-large as an unmitigated disaster, my friends and I revered it in our youth. Sure, we may’ve griped about some of the individual pieces – such is the nature of young’uns talking about film – but we saw this incarnation of the pop SciFi icon along with Dale Arden and Dr. Hans Zarkov as pure unbridled cinematic genius. It was bright! It was colorful! It had a soundtrack from Queen! Yes, we were alone in our estimation back then – I was never hip with the in-crowd – but decades later we’ve been kinda/sorta proven right in our respect for a film that may’ve otherwise disappeared from history if it hadn’t built a growing cult audience over the years.
Precisely how this happens for one flick and not others – even ones similar in shape and tone – remains one of mankind’s unsolved mysteries. No doubt it’ll continue to confound writers long after I’ve left his world.
All of this brings me to Mako: The Jaws Of Death (1976), an obvious exploitation feature conceived, directed, and produced by William Grefe, a name I hadn’t heard of but was vaguely familiar with some of his films. I’ve read that although he wrote this script before Steven Spielberg’s Jaws sunk its teeth into the worldwide box office but couldn’t get it financed until after that feature proved box office gold could be found beneath the sea. In all seriousness, the two films have nothing in common – except for the word Jaws shared in their respective titles – but it’s kinda/sorta still funny how one shark tale gained global adoration while another one only mustered a cult audience.
Let’s go for a swim …
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging:
“Mako: Jaws Of Death stars Richard Jaeckel as Sonny Stein, a man who develops the ability to communicate telepathically with man-eating sharks, allowing him to use the animals to attack anyone that crosses him.”
Let’s clear one thing up right away: Sonny Stein is no Aquaman.
There are plenty of really, really, really good reasons for which Mako has been maligned over the years. It’s a simple yarn – a fish story, as they say – about a man who somehow mystically discovers a kind of kinship with sharks. Like Dr. Doolittle talked with the animals, Sonny does, too … only this quiet and lonely drifter really doesn’t have much to say. Instead, he whiles away his life protecting them from – erm – shark poachers and evil scientists hell bent on … well, hell bent on understanding them or destroying them. (It’s never really clear.) The characters are all one-note and paper-thin – yes, even our hero – and it’s all delivered in perfunctory visual style by Grefe and his band of regulars.
To his credit, actor Jaeckel has always appeared to be a blue-collar, likeable fellow; and I suspect that everyman appeal may be some of the reason why the picture established its ‘sea legs.’ It’s never about believing his character here; rather, it’s about liking him, and that’s an easy task. Jaeckel delivers his lines with a kind of simpleton innocence: he’s only trying to protect his sharks from those who would do them wrong, and he’ll not mix words with anyone when and if a beating is owed. Think of him as Chuck Norris if played by Forrest Gump, and you get the idea. His is a heart of gold, and he’ll stop at nothing to protect his friends.
As tends to happen in exploitation pictures, our antagonist is virtually surrounded by bad blood at every turn. A local shark scientist wants Sonny’s best friend Matilda so that he can study shark birthing in captivity. Local fishermen stop at nothing to keep the deadly fish either out of the local waterways or – even worse – as trophies hung for tourists to snap pictures with. Even seedy nightclub owner Barney (Buffy Dee) wants a shark he can either tame or torture to the delight of patrons in his eatery. So when Sonny gets pushed too far, the audience knows full well he’s about to push back.
As imperfect as Mako is, it isn’t without its charm. Grefe’s underwater sequences are quite good, and the director constructed several key sequences in and out of the water with the kind of hard-boiled perspective viewers of traditional grindhouse have come to expect. (Clint Eastwood’s vengeance-themed Westerns come to mind, and the best parts of this film capitalize on similar tones.) Those who cross Sonny and his sharks get what’s coming to them, by hook or by crook … but a surprise ‘deflowering’ of what may’ve made Sonny so special ends up causing his demise in the last reel.
The lesson is simple: those who swim with the fishes take even their lives into their own hands, and that’s why Sonny’s big finish is probably the way even he would’ve wanted to go down.
Mako: The Jaws Of Death (1976) is produced by Mako Associates and Universal Majestic, Inc. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by Arrow Video. As for the technical specifications? Ahem. Well, this was essentially a grindhouse-style production – meaning that it was made fast and cheap – and I suspect it probably looks about as well as can do expected. There are varying light levels, and the sound dips or muddles a bit here and there; but it honestly didn’t impact my enjoyment (or chagrin) all that much. As for the special features? There are a few interesting tidbits here, including a commentary, interviews, and some mildly related documentary flicks. It’s a surprisingly respectful package for such a kinda/sorta inconsequential motion picture.
Recommended. Look, I’m going to assure you that – as is the case with most grindhouse pictures – it ain’t perfect. Mako really has all the gusto of a made-for-TV flick, which is to say that producers didn’t break the bank making it but possibly sat back and reaped modest revenue from its presentations. The likable Richard Jaeckel does what he can with the slim material proving he’s no fish out of water. Take a dip, if you’re so inclined, but watch out for the sharks!
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray Disc of Mako: The Jaws Of Death 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
As tends to happen in exploitation pictures, our antagonist is virtually surrounded by bad blood at every turn. A local shark scientist wants Sonny’s best friend Matilda so that he can study shark birthing in captivity. Local fishermen stop at nothing to keep the deadly fish either out of the local waterways or – even worse – as trophies hung for tourists to snap pictures with. Even seedy nightclub owner Barney (Buffy Dee) wants a shark he can either tame or torture to the delight of patrons in his eatery. So when Sonny gets pushed too far, the audience knows full well he’s about to push back.
As imperfect as Mako is, it isn’t without its charm. Grefe’s underwater sequences are quite good, and the director constructed several key sequences in and out of the water with the kind of hard-boiled perspective viewers of traditional grindhouse have come to expect. (Clint Eastwood’s vengeance-themed Westerns come to mind, and the best parts of this film capitalize on similar tones.) Those who cross Sonny and his sharks get what’s coming to them, by hook or by crook … but a surprise ‘deflowering’ of what may’ve made Sonny so special ends up causing his demise in the last reel.
The lesson is simple: those who swim with the fishes take even their lives into their own hands, and that’s why Sonny’s big finish is probably the way even he would’ve wanted to go down.
Mako: The Jaws Of Death (1976) is produced by Mako Associates and Universal Majestic, Inc. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by Arrow Video. As for the technical specifications? Ahem. Well, this was essentially a grindhouse-style production – meaning that it was made fast and cheap – and I suspect it probably looks about as well as can do expected. There are varying light levels, and the sound dips or muddles a bit here and there; but it honestly didn’t impact my enjoyment (or chagrin) all that much. As for the special features? There are a few interesting tidbits here, including a commentary, interviews, and some mildly related documentary flicks. It’s a surprisingly respectful package for such a kinda/sorta inconsequential motion picture.
Recommended. Look, I’m going to assure you that – as is the case with most grindhouse pictures – it ain’t perfect. Mako really has all the gusto of a made-for-TV flick, which is to say that producers didn’t break the bank making it but possibly sat back and reaped modest revenue from its presentations. The likable Richard Jaeckel does what he can with the slim material proving he’s no fish out of water. Take a dip, if you’re so inclined, but watch out for the sharks!
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray Disc of Mako: The Jaws Of Death 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
Today's bit of wisdom: never let a good death slow you down.
Perhaps those sentiments are never expressed better than when they're mirrored with some quality storytelling, the likes of which audiences have embraced at every opportunity. Though many in the industry credit Horror's recent resurgence in popularity to AMC's The Walking Dead delivering decent scares on a near-weekly basis, I've long argued that Horror has been here for decades, if not centuries. Why, just the other day, wasn't I saying that Mary Shelley's Frankenstein was first published in 1818? That makes Horror at least two hundred years old, but I suspect we as a society have been scaring one another silly long before that.
But we do so love a good fright, and some of the more interesting diversions of late have come by way of Shudder, AMC Networks' streaming portal for All Things That Go Bump In The Night. They've invested some serious cash in keeping you awake, and it shows: their Creepshow franchise -- now in its second season -- will be coming available for hard-copy purchase in early December. Serious fans should plan on picking up this release, if not pre-ordering it today.
I received the studio's press release just this morning, and I wanted to do my part in sharing it for posterity's sake on the Information Superhighway. Interested parties can get all of the details below.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
Perhaps those sentiments are never expressed better than when they're mirrored with some quality storytelling, the likes of which audiences have embraced at every opportunity. Though many in the industry credit Horror's recent resurgence in popularity to AMC's The Walking Dead delivering decent scares on a near-weekly basis, I've long argued that Horror has been here for decades, if not centuries. Why, just the other day, wasn't I saying that Mary Shelley's Frankenstein was first published in 1818? That makes Horror at least two hundred years old, but I suspect we as a society have been scaring one another silly long before that.
But we do so love a good fright, and some of the more interesting diversions of late have come by way of Shudder, AMC Networks' streaming portal for All Things That Go Bump In The Night. They've invested some serious cash in keeping you awake, and it shows: their Creepshow franchise -- now in its second season -- will be coming available for hard-copy purchase in early December. Serious fans should plan on picking up this release, if not pre-ordering it today.
I received the studio's press release just this morning, and I wanted to do my part in sharing it for posterity's sake on the Information Superhighway. Interested parties can get all of the details below.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
LOS ANGELES ( Nov. 4, 2021) – RLJE Films, a business unit of AMC Networks, has picked up select rights to CREEPSHOW Season 2 from Shudder, AMC Networks’ streaming service for horror, thriller and the supernatural. CREEPSHOW Season 2 will be available on December 7, 2021 on DVD and Blu-ray, each for an SRP of $34.98.
The five-episode season and bonus episodes A Creepshow Animated Special and A Creepshow Holiday Special from showrunner Greg Nicotero (“The Walking Dead”) star Kevin Dillon (Entourage), Ted Raimi (“Buddy Thunderstruck”), Ali Larter (House On Haunted Hill),
C. Thomas Howell (The Amazing Spider-Man), Iman Benson (“Alexa and Katie”), Josh McDermitt (“The Walking Dead”), Ashley Laurence (Hellraiser Franchise), Keith David (21 Bridges), Ryan Kwanten (“True Blood”), Breckin Meyer (Ghosts of Girlfriends Past), Molly Ringwald (“Riverdale”), Eric Edelstein (“Shameless”), Barbara Crampton (Jakob’s Wife), Denise Crosby (“Ray Donovan”), Justin Long (Lady of the Manor), D’Arcy Carden (“The Good Place”), Kiefer Sutherland (“Designated Survivor”), Joey King (The Kissing Booth), Anna Camp (Pitch Perfect), and Adam Pally (“Happy Endings”).
It’s still the most fun you’ll ever have being scared! Following CREEPSHOW Season 1’s Saturn Award 2021 win for Best DVD/BD Television Release comes the second season of CREEPSHOW, the anthology series based on the 1982 horror comedy classic. A comic book comes to life in nine chilling tales told across five episodes. Explore terrors ranging from murder, creatures, monsters and delusions to the supernatural and unexplainable. You never know what will be on the next page….
DVD & Blu-Ray Special Features Include:
A Creepshow Animated Special
A Creepshow Holiday Special
WonderCon@Home 2021 Interview with Greg Nicotero
Photo Galleries
Comic Art Booklet
Exclusive Never-Before-Seen Behind-the-Scenes Featurettes
Behind-the-Scenes Raw Footage
The DVD and Blu-ray each has a reversible sleeve art created by Sanjulián and by Rich Hilliard respectively.
ABOUT RLJE FILMS
RLJE Films’ recent and upcoming features include the critically acclaimed horror film The Dark And The Wicked from director Bryan Bertino; David Oyelowo’s directorial debut The Water Man; the intense No Man of God starring Elijah Wood and Luke Kirby from director Amber Sealey; and Sion Sono’s 2021 Sundance Film Festival premiere Prisoners of the Ghostland starring Nicolas Cage and Sofia Boutella. us.rljentertainment.com
ABOUT SHUDDER
AMC Networks’ Shudder is a premium streaming video service, super-serving members with the best selection in genre entertainment, covering horror, thrillers and the supernatural. Shudder’s expanding library of film, TV series, and originals is available on most streaming devices in the US, Canada, the UK, Ireland, Germany, Australia and New Zealand. To experience Shudder commitment-free for 7 days, visit www.shudder.com.
ABOUT AMC NETWORKS
AMC Networks is a global entertainment company known for its popular and
critically-acclaimed content. Its portfolio of brands includes AMC, BBC AMERICA (operated through a joint venture with BBC Studios), IFC, SundanceTV, WE tv, IFC Films, and a number of fast-growing streaming services, including the AMC+ premium streaming bundle, Acorn TV, Shudder, Sundance Now and ALLBLK. AMC Studios, the Company’s in-house studio, production and distribution operation, is behind award-winning owned series and franchises, including The Walking Dead, the highest-rated series in cable history. The Company also operates AMC Networks International, its international programming business, and 25/7 Media, its production services business.
- Published on
Mark my words: storytellers love to destroy our green Earth, and they'll do it by any means possible. Occasionally it's a wayward comet that plummets from the heavens and pulverizes everything to dust. Other times, Global Climate Cooling/Warming/Middling gets the best of us, and we're frozen/baked/bored into oblivion. And even COVID itself looks to get in on the act -- for all intents and purposes -- with the forthcoming Station Eleven from HBOMax.
Yes, I've read that this is all based on a book, but readers here know how little I read fiction these days. My work in keeping the site fresh keeps me inundated with non-fiction tomes as well as a healthy stream of movies and television series, so if you're looking for some insights into literature you'll be sorely disappointed.
As tends to happen, this one has the obligatory, uncharacteristically diverse cast (not that there's anything wrong with it, just an observation), but it looks like there may not be as much conversation and action around our mutual demise as there is what life looks like for those left after said catastrophe. Maybe there's something to be said for novel approaches, but it isn't as if we haven't seen this done before. Still, this one is behind a pay wall, so there's likely to be a bit more blood and boobs, too. HBO does so love their boobery. I've read some raves about this coming attraction, and I have to say I'm a bit befuddled: there's very little here to react to other than images, but without a story to match to the shots I've no possible idea what it could all be about. This is why I've always said "Don't get your hopes up with a preview." It could all just be visual political gibberish.
In any event, trailer is below. Anyone interested in knowing more can hop on the old Internet and Google until you're blue in the face.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
Yes, I've read that this is all based on a book, but readers here know how little I read fiction these days. My work in keeping the site fresh keeps me inundated with non-fiction tomes as well as a healthy stream of movies and television series, so if you're looking for some insights into literature you'll be sorely disappointed.
As tends to happen, this one has the obligatory, uncharacteristically diverse cast (not that there's anything wrong with it, just an observation), but it looks like there may not be as much conversation and action around our mutual demise as there is what life looks like for those left after said catastrophe. Maybe there's something to be said for novel approaches, but it isn't as if we haven't seen this done before. Still, this one is behind a pay wall, so there's likely to be a bit more blood and boobs, too. HBO does so love their boobery. I've read some raves about this coming attraction, and I have to say I'm a bit befuddled: there's very little here to react to other than images, but without a story to match to the shots I've no possible idea what it could all be about. This is why I've always said "Don't get your hopes up with a preview." It could all just be visual political gibberish.
In any event, trailer is below. Anyone interested in knowing more can hop on the old Internet and Google until you're blue in the face.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Historically, many academics have credited Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein – first published in 1818 – as the birth of Science Fiction. Though I tend to disagree for small reasons, I do think that the novel first crystallized what Science Fiction truly was and was becoming in its era; and I do agree that it’s acceptance by the reading public inspired those who would follow in the trajectory Shelley launched.
Naturally, Hollywood eventually jumped aboard the Frankenstein express, delivering a handful of great (and a few less-so) motion pictures that drove the mythos further. Universal Pictures’ Frankenstein (1931) is revered for properly sensationalizing the Gothic potential of the original Shelley story, and it’s a film that continues to have narrative weight and inspiration to this day. 1935’s The Bride Of Frankenstein pushed the possibilities even further when (gasp!) the surviving good doctor decides to expand on his monstrous family by building dear ol’ Frank a mate. And even the popular Hollywood comedy team of Abbott and Costello stepped into the fray when they decided to go face-to-face with the several monsters in Abbott And Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948), perhaps one of the duo’s most enduring features.
Knowing a good thing to exploit when they see it, Hollywood executives expanded these horror franchises in creative ways; if this is what audiences wanted, then why not deliver more? In the 1950’s, these movers and shakers launched a unique subset – the teenager-centric additions. American youth were coming the subject of more and more features, so it was only proper for Tinseltown to follow along. Films like I Was A Teenage Werewolf (1957) and I Was A Teenage Frankenstein (1957) perhaps best exemplified this emerging trend; and it was only a matter of time before some studio suit got the bright idea to start giving children to these monsters.
And just like that, Frankenstein’s Daughter (1958) was born.
Well … let’s call it ‘hatched.’
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging: “Dr. Oliver Frank’s ambition is to continue the experiments of his late grandfather, the wicked Dr. Frankenstein. Since he has better luck in the lab than in the backseat of his car, Dr. Frank usually turns the women who reject him into fodder for his experiments. He has special plans for his boss’s young niece, Trudy. Soon, a strange, female creature is running amok in modern Los Angeles. No one is safe in Frankenstein’s Daughter, not even the cool kids rockin’ at poolside!”
Ahem.
There’s a reason why films like Frankenstein’s Daughter are so easily lampooned by those who watch them: though they might have a nice performance or two – or maybe even a nice idea here or there – something’s clearly amiss … and it usually boils down to any lack of intelligent structure on the part of those telling these stories.
For example, it’s easy to understand how the descendants of the original Shelley madman – Dr. Frankenstein – might be socially outcast as a consequence of a bad reputation. He did, after all, create a monster – one who terrorized the village – so it makes sense that his gifted grandson might be forced into some science-based side job in order to continue the family business. See what I mean? Screenwriter H.E. Barrie crafted a perfectly legitimate set of circumstances upon which to base the film’s central character … but the rest of the story? This one unravels very, very, very quickly.
Dr. Frank (played by Donald Murphy) is a bit of a lecher. We see him drawn to every woman in the picture, and – though biology may be his gig – he needs to learn a thing or two about boundaries. He’s little more than a ‘sexual predator in development,’ so I found it also completely believable that he’d channel the anger resulting from constant rejection into his bloody quest for a woman’s head to affix to the top of his Frankenstein monster. Plus, he’s a bit of a practicing misogynist, insisting that a woman’s mind is more easily controlled by suggestion. Yeah … with an attitude like his, it’s no wonder he’s single.
Still, I found it hard to find anything else in this monster stinker that made much sense.
Naturally, Hollywood eventually jumped aboard the Frankenstein express, delivering a handful of great (and a few less-so) motion pictures that drove the mythos further. Universal Pictures’ Frankenstein (1931) is revered for properly sensationalizing the Gothic potential of the original Shelley story, and it’s a film that continues to have narrative weight and inspiration to this day. 1935’s The Bride Of Frankenstein pushed the possibilities even further when (gasp!) the surviving good doctor decides to expand on his monstrous family by building dear ol’ Frank a mate. And even the popular Hollywood comedy team of Abbott and Costello stepped into the fray when they decided to go face-to-face with the several monsters in Abbott And Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948), perhaps one of the duo’s most enduring features.
Knowing a good thing to exploit when they see it, Hollywood executives expanded these horror franchises in creative ways; if this is what audiences wanted, then why not deliver more? In the 1950’s, these movers and shakers launched a unique subset – the teenager-centric additions. American youth were coming the subject of more and more features, so it was only proper for Tinseltown to follow along. Films like I Was A Teenage Werewolf (1957) and I Was A Teenage Frankenstein (1957) perhaps best exemplified this emerging trend; and it was only a matter of time before some studio suit got the bright idea to start giving children to these monsters.
And just like that, Frankenstein’s Daughter (1958) was born.
Well … let’s call it ‘hatched.’
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging: “Dr. Oliver Frank’s ambition is to continue the experiments of his late grandfather, the wicked Dr. Frankenstein. Since he has better luck in the lab than in the backseat of his car, Dr. Frank usually turns the women who reject him into fodder for his experiments. He has special plans for his boss’s young niece, Trudy. Soon, a strange, female creature is running amok in modern Los Angeles. No one is safe in Frankenstein’s Daughter, not even the cool kids rockin’ at poolside!”
Ahem.
There’s a reason why films like Frankenstein’s Daughter are so easily lampooned by those who watch them: though they might have a nice performance or two – or maybe even a nice idea here or there – something’s clearly amiss … and it usually boils down to any lack of intelligent structure on the part of those telling these stories.
For example, it’s easy to understand how the descendants of the original Shelley madman – Dr. Frankenstein – might be socially outcast as a consequence of a bad reputation. He did, after all, create a monster – one who terrorized the village – so it makes sense that his gifted grandson might be forced into some science-based side job in order to continue the family business. See what I mean? Screenwriter H.E. Barrie crafted a perfectly legitimate set of circumstances upon which to base the film’s central character … but the rest of the story? This one unravels very, very, very quickly.
Dr. Frank (played by Donald Murphy) is a bit of a lecher. We see him drawn to every woman in the picture, and – though biology may be his gig – he needs to learn a thing or two about boundaries. He’s little more than a ‘sexual predator in development,’ so I found it also completely believable that he’d channel the anger resulting from constant rejection into his bloody quest for a woman’s head to affix to the top of his Frankenstein monster. Plus, he’s a bit of a practicing misogynist, insisting that a woman’s mind is more easily controlled by suggestion. Yeah … with an attitude like his, it’s no wonder he’s single.
Still, I found it hard to find anything else in this monster stinker that made much sense.
For clarity’s sake, the film has two monsters, neither of which are really all that scary (in traditional Horror movie terms anyway). Trudy (a fetching Sandra Knight) plays the niece of Dr. Frank’s employer; and we soon learn that the bad doctor has been slipping her a chemical concoction that – ala Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde – turns her into a modestly disfigured beast who kinda/sorta terrorizes the city by walking the streets, peeking in windows, and scratching victims with her claws. As for ‘the daughter’ of the title? Well, Dr. Frank’s monster is apparently cobbled together from the bodies of car crash victims, and the he/she is given the head of Suzie (Sally Todd), though the completed beast looks far more male than female. (I suspect the greater ‘trans’ community of the 1950’s probably picketed this release.) A quick check of IMDB.com confirms that – ahem – Frankenstein’s daughter was, indeed, played by a man (Harry Wilson), so the internal logic of some choices truly escapes me.
As for the rest of the story?
Well, Daughter plays out more like the alleged monster – the hand from one victim, the arm from another, the legs from still another, etc. – as it appears to have been pieced together with sequences perhaps not all entirely thought out in advance. Characters are given meager tasks to fulfill as the story unspools, and their motivations at times are never quite clear. You’d think they’d want to get their lives together, what with this behemoth roaming about with bloody intentions. Eventually, the police get involved – there’s apparently been a series of robberies related to Trudy’s uncle, Professor Carter Morton (an entirely unconvincing if not robotic performance from Felix Locher) – and, in no time, they’ve pulled their weapons and started firing wildly in a quiet suburban neighborhood. By the time we’re heading toward the film’s conclusion, the audience is suddenly treated to a poolside barbecue complete with a few musical numbers in arguably the film’s most unnecessary and bizarre plot development. While a good time may’ve been had by all onscreen, I’m apt to think audiences weren’t as entertained.
In short, Frankenstein’s Daughter is schlock. Albeit good-natured, it’s still schlock.
Clearly this was the type of small film meant to capitalize on the monster movie craze of its era and maybe even secretly take an affectionate swipe at other emerging trends (Hollywood’s increased focus on teens, film singalong sequences, etc.). Looking back at it from decades in the future, I think it’s easy to poke fun at its ever-widening plot holes, but I suspect that those who made it had a good time with its shtick. None of its truly horrific – certainly not the way it’s played by the actors and actresses – and, despite some reasonably interesting practical make-up work done on the monsters, I suspect no egos were bruised in the making of this film.
Frankenstein’s Daughter (1958) is produced by Layton Film Productions, Inc. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled via The Film Detective. As for the technical specifications? You know, this release actually looks very good; this black-and-white flick has some crisp images, and there was only a sequence or two that came across as a bit sub-par, especially for the era. As for the special features? The disc boasts two commentary tracks (I’m gonna spend some time with this in the days ahead, so look for a second review entirely focused on these), some short documentaries, and an essay from historian Tom Weaver (read it; it’s flattering but mostly biographical in nature). It’s a surprise to have this much to consider with not only an older release but such a forgettable one, so color me impressed.
Recommended … but don’t expect much. Frankenstein’s Daughter is unintentionally comic much of the time, but it still manages to squeeze a few good performances out of Donald Murphy (who hams it up as the true villain), Sandra Knight (as pretty a girl-next-store you’re likely to find in the 1950’s), and Sally Todd (a true tramp who ‘gets what she deserves’ or so one might think). This ain’t Shakespeare … and it shows.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at The Film Detective provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray Disc of Frankenstein’s Daughter 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
As for the rest of the story?
Well, Daughter plays out more like the alleged monster – the hand from one victim, the arm from another, the legs from still another, etc. – as it appears to have been pieced together with sequences perhaps not all entirely thought out in advance. Characters are given meager tasks to fulfill as the story unspools, and their motivations at times are never quite clear. You’d think they’d want to get their lives together, what with this behemoth roaming about with bloody intentions. Eventually, the police get involved – there’s apparently been a series of robberies related to Trudy’s uncle, Professor Carter Morton (an entirely unconvincing if not robotic performance from Felix Locher) – and, in no time, they’ve pulled their weapons and started firing wildly in a quiet suburban neighborhood. By the time we’re heading toward the film’s conclusion, the audience is suddenly treated to a poolside barbecue complete with a few musical numbers in arguably the film’s most unnecessary and bizarre plot development. While a good time may’ve been had by all onscreen, I’m apt to think audiences weren’t as entertained.
In short, Frankenstein’s Daughter is schlock. Albeit good-natured, it’s still schlock.
Clearly this was the type of small film meant to capitalize on the monster movie craze of its era and maybe even secretly take an affectionate swipe at other emerging trends (Hollywood’s increased focus on teens, film singalong sequences, etc.). Looking back at it from decades in the future, I think it’s easy to poke fun at its ever-widening plot holes, but I suspect that those who made it had a good time with its shtick. None of its truly horrific – certainly not the way it’s played by the actors and actresses – and, despite some reasonably interesting practical make-up work done on the monsters, I suspect no egos were bruised in the making of this film.
Frankenstein’s Daughter (1958) is produced by Layton Film Productions, Inc. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled via The Film Detective. As for the technical specifications? You know, this release actually looks very good; this black-and-white flick has some crisp images, and there was only a sequence or two that came across as a bit sub-par, especially for the era. As for the special features? The disc boasts two commentary tracks (I’m gonna spend some time with this in the days ahead, so look for a second review entirely focused on these), some short documentaries, and an essay from historian Tom Weaver (read it; it’s flattering but mostly biographical in nature). It’s a surprise to have this much to consider with not only an older release but such a forgettable one, so color me impressed.
Recommended … but don’t expect much. Frankenstein’s Daughter is unintentionally comic much of the time, but it still manages to squeeze a few good performances out of Donald Murphy (who hams it up as the true villain), Sandra Knight (as pretty a girl-next-store you’re likely to find in the 1950’s), and Sally Todd (a true tramp who ‘gets what she deserves’ or so one might think). This ain’t Shakespeare … and it shows.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at The Film Detective provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray Disc of Frankenstein’s Daughter by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
I’ve mentioned before on SciFiHistory.Net that I’ve never been a big consumer of anime.
Animation, for me, has always been a difficult property largely because I’ve always been more of a story guy with visuals coming in somewhat less important. As I’ve found a lot of animation more centered on how its drawn – different styles, different colors, etc. – I’ve caught my mind drifting at times and losing focus of whatever affair I’m watching, and – I assure you – that’s never a good thing. Shows like Gunslinger Girl did tickle my fancy when I found out about them, though I’ve had an uphill battle in locating other programs as equally rich in story as it was its images. I don’t doubt that they’re out there; but if I have to look high and low for similar properties, I’m more inclined to move along and hope something finally drops in my lap.
Lo and behold, Venus Wars arrived in my mailbox the other day.
As one who reads about a lot of film and video, Venus Wars is an entry that’s dropped onto my radar quite a bit over the last ten years. I’ve seen this anime mentioned in a handful of U.S. stories, many times complimenting the feature’s visual style or suggesting it as an inspiration for some other work. Over the years, I’ve worked with a handful of DVD promotional outlets in my tenure reviewing film and home video, but no one’s been able to assist me in obtaining a copy. (I’m not a big fan of streaming; my house has some – argh – wiring issues that interferes with reception.) Thankfully, I overcame that hurdle a few weeks back and have been rewarded for my efforts.
I’ve finally seen Venus Wars … and I loved it …
Well … I loved most of it … but you know the drill …
(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 encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging:
“When an ice comet slammed into the planet Venus, terraforming its toxic atmosphere into one capable of sustaining life, mankind’s dream of colonizing other worlds became a reality. Unfortunately for the colonists, Venus isn’t the paradise they’d dreamed of …”
There’s an awful lot more because, essentially, the provided synopsis covers a wealth of backstory: suffice it to say, mankind has come to Venus, and we’ve brought with us the same emotional baggage that sooner or later leads to armed conflict. What it all boils down to is this Utopia on the second planet isn’t all it’s cracked up to be: resources are scarce, crops are failing, and this inevitably leads the two established colonies to all-out war, thus the ‘Venus Wars’ of the film’s title.
Based on a manga by Yoshikazu Yasuhiko (published from 1986-1990), Venus Wars is clearly a product of its time. That’s not necessarily a bad thing – having lived through the 80’s, I can assure you a lot of great things came out of the era – and I offer it as an observation only to underscore that I don’t see the film’s themes and messages as ‘timeless’ as other reviewers who’ve covered it in some detail. For what it’s worth, I saw the feature’s central player – Hiro – as a Tom Cruise ‘Maverick’ clone from the popular 80’s film Top Gun. Whereas Maverick is a hotshot pilot who bucks authority until he achieves maturity, our Hiro is a hotshot futuristic motorbike rider who bucks authority until … you get the idea. These brash young’uns all eventually have to grow up, and that’s largely what happens once war comes to their not-so-fertile homeland.
Animation, for me, has always been a difficult property largely because I’ve always been more of a story guy with visuals coming in somewhat less important. As I’ve found a lot of animation more centered on how its drawn – different styles, different colors, etc. – I’ve caught my mind drifting at times and losing focus of whatever affair I’m watching, and – I assure you – that’s never a good thing. Shows like Gunslinger Girl did tickle my fancy when I found out about them, though I’ve had an uphill battle in locating other programs as equally rich in story as it was its images. I don’t doubt that they’re out there; but if I have to look high and low for similar properties, I’m more inclined to move along and hope something finally drops in my lap.
Lo and behold, Venus Wars arrived in my mailbox the other day.
As one who reads about a lot of film and video, Venus Wars is an entry that’s dropped onto my radar quite a bit over the last ten years. I’ve seen this anime mentioned in a handful of U.S. stories, many times complimenting the feature’s visual style or suggesting it as an inspiration for some other work. Over the years, I’ve worked with a handful of DVD promotional outlets in my tenure reviewing film and home video, but no one’s been able to assist me in obtaining a copy. (I’m not a big fan of streaming; my house has some – argh – wiring issues that interferes with reception.) Thankfully, I overcame that hurdle a few weeks back and have been rewarded for my efforts.
I’ve finally seen Venus Wars … and I loved it …
Well … I loved most of it … but you know the drill …
(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 encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging:
“When an ice comet slammed into the planet Venus, terraforming its toxic atmosphere into one capable of sustaining life, mankind’s dream of colonizing other worlds became a reality. Unfortunately for the colonists, Venus isn’t the paradise they’d dreamed of …”
There’s an awful lot more because, essentially, the provided synopsis covers a wealth of backstory: suffice it to say, mankind has come to Venus, and we’ve brought with us the same emotional baggage that sooner or later leads to armed conflict. What it all boils down to is this Utopia on the second planet isn’t all it’s cracked up to be: resources are scarce, crops are failing, and this inevitably leads the two established colonies to all-out war, thus the ‘Venus Wars’ of the film’s title.
Based on a manga by Yoshikazu Yasuhiko (published from 1986-1990), Venus Wars is clearly a product of its time. That’s not necessarily a bad thing – having lived through the 80’s, I can assure you a lot of great things came out of the era – and I offer it as an observation only to underscore that I don’t see the film’s themes and messages as ‘timeless’ as other reviewers who’ve covered it in some detail. For what it’s worth, I saw the feature’s central player – Hiro – as a Tom Cruise ‘Maverick’ clone from the popular 80’s film Top Gun. Whereas Maverick is a hotshot pilot who bucks authority until he achieves maturity, our Hiro is a hotshot futuristic motorbike rider who bucks authority until … you get the idea. These brash young’uns all eventually have to grow up, and that’s largely what happens once war comes to their not-so-fertile homeland.
As such, Venus Wars embraces that Top Gun aesthetic: combat is largely an event which helps to sort out the good guys from the bad guys. There’s an obligatory “death of a loved one” subplot when the film’s newest arrival – journalist Susan Sommers has come from Earth to watch and record this society’s descent into conflict – watches a young man go down for the count. This serves as her catalyst to join with our merry band of motorcycle warriors for the rest of the tale. But, yes, seeing a comrade fall on the battlefield forces her realization that ‘war is hell’ and not just something journalists cover. She witnesses that, in combat, the heaviest price is always paid in blood.
However, Venus Wars is largely a formulaic tale of disaffected youth stripped of their livelihood – high speed sports – and forced to take up arms to defend first their racetrack and then their city. Yuichi Sasamoto’s script never really cracks the surface to explore the obvious greater dramatic potential (as I said, this is all more Top Gun than it is Full Metal Jacket). Instead, he shifts gears effectively from entertainment to war once the invaders attack. Dare I suggest all of this was drawing a comparison between sports and conflict, that perhaps they’re distant relations spawned from the same cultural family tree? 1975’s Rollerball hinted at similar ideas, though the John Boorman property really aimed its sights more at capitalism and corporate greed. It’s clearly one possible message of Sasamoto’s, though I wouldn’t make too much of such symbolism as these Wars were likely meant to entertain and not educate.
As one who’s only casually consumed anime over the years, I’ve been told the single greatest attraction to much of it is the animation style; in that regard, I was thrilled with much of the flick. Creator Yasuhiko also served as director, and he’s gifted his tale with some big action sequences all delivered with admirable kinetic effect. The racing and the combat segments have similarly gritty appeal, though some of it could’ve been a tad more effective had the animators dialed back the smoke and flames. Still, if both Hiro and Maverick share anything in common, then their ‘need for speed’ elevates their respective pictures, properly dialing it all up to eleven.
Much like Top Gun was about the male infatuation with fighter jets, Venus Wars has its battle bikes … and they’re decidedly inspired. I’m not sure how a person could literally sit on and operate one of these clever monocycles, but they’re animated as if entirely plausible. Their evolution from recreation to combat vehicle is the picture’s Golden Goose, putting into images (instead of words) how well-suited Hiro is the hero of the story: the youth who ruled on the racetrack begrudgingly answers the call to do the same on the battlefield. Though he steps down from his service to be reunited with the woman he loves, it’s pretty clear to those watching that he’ll gladly be back behind the wheel if a sequel calls.
To my knowledge, none did; but I think fans of this late 80’s entry would’ve been happy to tag along for a second installment. Venus Wars is effective (though formulaic) adventure: it delivers exactly what it promised, and anime fans should rejoice at the opportunity for a return visit to the past.
Venus Wars (1989) is produced by Bandai Visual Company, Gakkan Co. Ltd., and a few other partners. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by Sentai Filmworks. As for the technical specifications? Wow. This property looks just fabulous: I’ve watched some other anime from a slightly earlier era and not been all that impressed with transfers, but this one is dynamite. It’s full of crisp, clear lines from start-to-finish. There is a weird stylistic choice that Yasuhiko employed in the second half: some battle sequences are backdropped with real video footage that’s been colored over to give it an animated look. I could probably go on about what it meant, and we could all debate its effectiveness; but the bottom line is that it worked fine about ninety percent of the time (for me), and I’ll leave it at that. As for special features? Alas, there were none.
Strongly recommended. Honestly, I’ve never been a big shopper of anime, but that could change if I discovered more films like Venus Wars. While I found a lot of its characters and situations a bit derivative, this tidy little war feature delivered a solid premise, reasonable world-building, and functional characters. I’ve often found anime’s attempts at humor a bit pubescent, and Venus Wars is really no different in that regard. Still, when it soars it soars; and these Wars were a solid 100+ minutes of visual entertainment for the young-at-heart.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Sentai Filmworks provided me with a Blu-ray of Venus Wars 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
However, Venus Wars is largely a formulaic tale of disaffected youth stripped of their livelihood – high speed sports – and forced to take up arms to defend first their racetrack and then their city. Yuichi Sasamoto’s script never really cracks the surface to explore the obvious greater dramatic potential (as I said, this is all more Top Gun than it is Full Metal Jacket). Instead, he shifts gears effectively from entertainment to war once the invaders attack. Dare I suggest all of this was drawing a comparison between sports and conflict, that perhaps they’re distant relations spawned from the same cultural family tree? 1975’s Rollerball hinted at similar ideas, though the John Boorman property really aimed its sights more at capitalism and corporate greed. It’s clearly one possible message of Sasamoto’s, though I wouldn’t make too much of such symbolism as these Wars were likely meant to entertain and not educate.
As one who’s only casually consumed anime over the years, I’ve been told the single greatest attraction to much of it is the animation style; in that regard, I was thrilled with much of the flick. Creator Yasuhiko also served as director, and he’s gifted his tale with some big action sequences all delivered with admirable kinetic effect. The racing and the combat segments have similarly gritty appeal, though some of it could’ve been a tad more effective had the animators dialed back the smoke and flames. Still, if both Hiro and Maverick share anything in common, then their ‘need for speed’ elevates their respective pictures, properly dialing it all up to eleven.
Much like Top Gun was about the male infatuation with fighter jets, Venus Wars has its battle bikes … and they’re decidedly inspired. I’m not sure how a person could literally sit on and operate one of these clever monocycles, but they’re animated as if entirely plausible. Their evolution from recreation to combat vehicle is the picture’s Golden Goose, putting into images (instead of words) how well-suited Hiro is the hero of the story: the youth who ruled on the racetrack begrudgingly answers the call to do the same on the battlefield. Though he steps down from his service to be reunited with the woman he loves, it’s pretty clear to those watching that he’ll gladly be back behind the wheel if a sequel calls.
To my knowledge, none did; but I think fans of this late 80’s entry would’ve been happy to tag along for a second installment. Venus Wars is effective (though formulaic) adventure: it delivers exactly what it promised, and anime fans should rejoice at the opportunity for a return visit to the past.
Venus Wars (1989) is produced by Bandai Visual Company, Gakkan Co. Ltd., and a few other partners. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by Sentai Filmworks. As for the technical specifications? Wow. This property looks just fabulous: I’ve watched some other anime from a slightly earlier era and not been all that impressed with transfers, but this one is dynamite. It’s full of crisp, clear lines from start-to-finish. There is a weird stylistic choice that Yasuhiko employed in the second half: some battle sequences are backdropped with real video footage that’s been colored over to give it an animated look. I could probably go on about what it meant, and we could all debate its effectiveness; but the bottom line is that it worked fine about ninety percent of the time (for me), and I’ll leave it at that. As for special features? Alas, there were none.
Strongly recommended. Honestly, I’ve never been a big shopper of anime, but that could change if I discovered more films like Venus Wars. While I found a lot of its characters and situations a bit derivative, this tidy little war feature delivered a solid premise, reasonable world-building, and functional characters. I’ve often found anime’s attempts at humor a bit pubescent, and Venus Wars is really no different in that regard. Still, when it soars it soars; and these Wars were a solid 100+ minutes of visual entertainment for the young-at-heart.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Sentai Filmworks provided me with a Blu-ray of Venus Wars 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
Take note, faithful readers: once again, I find myself a ‘man out of time’ as I mention yet again my fondness for older films.
Far too many times in this space have I praised the classics because – on a mostly fundamental level – those filmmakers had to do more with less in ways that only get mirrored these days in independent features. For example, when you needed to use a special effect, well you practically had to invent the thing as big budget Science Fiction and Fantasy hadn’t quite taken hold in our collective consciousness in the 1940’s; and even after those genres did gain a foothold in the 50’s, many studios still relegated them to be made as black-and-white features, not giving them the industry clout associated with color pictures. Stories needed to be crisper, performances needed to be bigger, and all of this still had to be accomplished on whatever the budget allowed, forcing these innovators to test the limits of their own invention.
Into this mix of cinematic reality, I find a little ‘something something’ like The Amazing Mr. X (1948). During its original run, it was put out under the name of The Spiritualist, but some negative feedback to the studio from practicing mediums of the era forced the powers that be to change its name. And – dare I say? – it’s a bit of a confusing picture but not in the obvious way. Oh, the story makes sense – has a beginning, middle, and end with all of the necessary plot twists and turns along the way – and yet it still defies a conventional label. Is it a drama? Is it a mystery? Is it a Horror film or Fantasy? Honestly, it has a bit of most – with even a few clever comic bits thrown in for good measure – but never fits easily under any single heading.
In all honestly, it’s not quite the kind of feature I typically cover on SciFiHistory.Net. But the experience does deserve a mention, and I’m happy to expand just a bit after the obligatory break.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging: “An atmospheric masterpiece, The Amazing Mr. X stars Turhan Bey as Alexis, a mystery man who claims to communicate with spirits. Appearing on the beach one night, Alexis easily charms a depressed widow and her sister (Lynn Bari and Cathy O’Donnell). The sly Alexis makes a living by separating gullible people from their money, but before this tale is over he will learn that the living are far more dangerous than the dead.”
Though at first blush, The Amazing Mr. X resembles a Fantasy, it’s honestly much more a caper picture.
Alexis (played by Turhan Bey) is the quintessential conman who seeks to gain his own personal fortune and fame from the victims he can extort. Though he’s not shown to have any real nefarious intent in the kinda/sorta seduction of Christine Faber (Lynn Bari), viewers do learn that he’s in it for whatever he can gain to put himself and his partner, Emily (Virginia Gregg), ahead in the game. As can happen in any good con, complications aplenty ensue; and these take the shape of Christine’s sister Janet (Cathy O’Donnell) who becomes smitten with the spiritualist as well as Christine’s latest suitor Martin (Richard Carlson). In fact, Alexis’s arrival here throws a monkey wrench into Martin’s hope to marry the love of his life, giving this story (from Crane Wilbur, Muriel Roy Bolton, and Ian McLellan Hunter) plenty of legs to stand all on its own.
Still, there’s a late, breaking development to the plot that even a charlatan like Alexis couldn’t predict: as fate (or a good con) would have it, Christine’s former husband – Paul (Donald Curtis) – isn’t so dearly departed as he would have you believe. Before you know it, Alexis finds himself being manipulated by a master manipulator, and he’s forced to go along or else risk exposure, criminal conviction, or maybe even his own demise … unless he can outmaneuver the man and maybe even right a few wrongs he committed along the way.
Far too many times in this space have I praised the classics because – on a mostly fundamental level – those filmmakers had to do more with less in ways that only get mirrored these days in independent features. For example, when you needed to use a special effect, well you practically had to invent the thing as big budget Science Fiction and Fantasy hadn’t quite taken hold in our collective consciousness in the 1940’s; and even after those genres did gain a foothold in the 50’s, many studios still relegated them to be made as black-and-white features, not giving them the industry clout associated with color pictures. Stories needed to be crisper, performances needed to be bigger, and all of this still had to be accomplished on whatever the budget allowed, forcing these innovators to test the limits of their own invention.
Into this mix of cinematic reality, I find a little ‘something something’ like The Amazing Mr. X (1948). During its original run, it was put out under the name of The Spiritualist, but some negative feedback to the studio from practicing mediums of the era forced the powers that be to change its name. And – dare I say? – it’s a bit of a confusing picture but not in the obvious way. Oh, the story makes sense – has a beginning, middle, and end with all of the necessary plot twists and turns along the way – and yet it still defies a conventional label. Is it a drama? Is it a mystery? Is it a Horror film or Fantasy? Honestly, it has a bit of most – with even a few clever comic bits thrown in for good measure – but never fits easily under any single heading.
In all honestly, it’s not quite the kind of feature I typically cover on SciFiHistory.Net. But the experience does deserve a mention, and I’m happy to expand just a bit after the obligatory break.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging: “An atmospheric masterpiece, The Amazing Mr. X stars Turhan Bey as Alexis, a mystery man who claims to communicate with spirits. Appearing on the beach one night, Alexis easily charms a depressed widow and her sister (Lynn Bari and Cathy O’Donnell). The sly Alexis makes a living by separating gullible people from their money, but before this tale is over he will learn that the living are far more dangerous than the dead.”
Though at first blush, The Amazing Mr. X resembles a Fantasy, it’s honestly much more a caper picture.
Alexis (played by Turhan Bey) is the quintessential conman who seeks to gain his own personal fortune and fame from the victims he can extort. Though he’s not shown to have any real nefarious intent in the kinda/sorta seduction of Christine Faber (Lynn Bari), viewers do learn that he’s in it for whatever he can gain to put himself and his partner, Emily (Virginia Gregg), ahead in the game. As can happen in any good con, complications aplenty ensue; and these take the shape of Christine’s sister Janet (Cathy O’Donnell) who becomes smitten with the spiritualist as well as Christine’s latest suitor Martin (Richard Carlson). In fact, Alexis’s arrival here throws a monkey wrench into Martin’s hope to marry the love of his life, giving this story (from Crane Wilbur, Muriel Roy Bolton, and Ian McLellan Hunter) plenty of legs to stand all on its own.
Still, there’s a late, breaking development to the plot that even a charlatan like Alexis couldn’t predict: as fate (or a good con) would have it, Christine’s former husband – Paul (Donald Curtis) – isn’t so dearly departed as he would have you believe. Before you know it, Alexis finds himself being manipulated by a master manipulator, and he’s forced to go along or else risk exposure, criminal conviction, or maybe even his own demise … unless he can outmaneuver the man and maybe even right a few wrongs he committed along the way.
With a story like The Amazing Mr. X, director Bernard Vorhaus not only cast solid talent to bring it to life but also relied on some deft camera trickery to craft Alexis’s illusions. Cinematographer John Alton – who scored an Academy Award for his work in 1952’s An American In Paris – peppers the screen with light, shadows, and some of the better optical effects of the era, managing to give this X both a sense of danger and mystery in just the right amounts. As the film clearly skirts with the conventions of several different genres, he never quite settles in on the tropes usual to any one theme: instead, he keeps his focus on the trickery (and some clever camera placements), the only constant motivation behind most of the characters in the feature.
It’s a deception that works principally because that’s what’s getting exposed in this affair. Though Alexis has some dark intentions, it’s clear that he approaches his day job with a sense of whimsy. He doesn’t get bogged down with the lasting impact of bilking those he can, but the script never quite depicts him as purely evil, either. The truth to his character very well could be that he only takes enough to get by himself and leaves his victims with plenty, too. Of course, it’s still criminal, but it’s clear in the last reel that beating somewhere underneath the conman is a heart of gold. He never wanted to destroy individuals … just delude them.
Perhaps there’s a thin strain of nobility in that.
The Amazing Mr. X (1948) is produced by Ben Stoloff Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled via The Film Detective. As for the technical specifications? Sourced from a print of the film from actor Bey’s personal collection, the sights and sounds all look very good, though I suspect the age of the original print did the process no favors. In many cases, the whites are a bit murky, but the shadows do make up for some of the lack of clarity. Honestly, I’m no ‘technical expert’ in most regards, but I’d still only rate this as a good restoration as it’s just not up to the level I’ve seen with other films of the era. (Again, some of this may be owed to an aged source print. Such is the nature of restoration as I’ve learned.) Lastly, there are a few special features worthy of note: this disc includes a good commentary from film scholar Jason Ney (I found it a bit too heavy on trivia and would’ve liked to know a bit more about this particular film, but this happens a lot as detail on older productions can be elusive). There’s also a studio-produced documentary on spiritualism which I found honestly more interesting than the commentary. (What can I say?) Lastly, the booklet insert contains an essay exploring Bey’s career (in Hollywood and beyond) which is very complimentary to the man I knew little about. A nice collection.
Recommended. Though I found The Amazing Mr. X a bit hard to classify – it’s not quite Horror, not quite Drama, not quite Film-Noir – it exists in the happy junction of many genres. Performances are good – Bey works surprisingly well as the conman who eventually succumbs to the heart of gold he never knew he had; Bari and O’Donnell’s work as sister feels authentic though occasionally a bit stilted toward stereotypes of the era; and Carlson fills the shoes of the dutiful suitor quite nicely. Look for a great cameo-style role for Harry Mendoza as Detective Hoffman, the magician turned lawman who steals his few scenes easily.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at The Film Detective provided me with a Blu-ray of The Amazing Mr. X 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
It’s a deception that works principally because that’s what’s getting exposed in this affair. Though Alexis has some dark intentions, it’s clear that he approaches his day job with a sense of whimsy. He doesn’t get bogged down with the lasting impact of bilking those he can, but the script never quite depicts him as purely evil, either. The truth to his character very well could be that he only takes enough to get by himself and leaves his victims with plenty, too. Of course, it’s still criminal, but it’s clear in the last reel that beating somewhere underneath the conman is a heart of gold. He never wanted to destroy individuals … just delude them.
Perhaps there’s a thin strain of nobility in that.
The Amazing Mr. X (1948) is produced by Ben Stoloff Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled via The Film Detective. As for the technical specifications? Sourced from a print of the film from actor Bey’s personal collection, the sights and sounds all look very good, though I suspect the age of the original print did the process no favors. In many cases, the whites are a bit murky, but the shadows do make up for some of the lack of clarity. Honestly, I’m no ‘technical expert’ in most regards, but I’d still only rate this as a good restoration as it’s just not up to the level I’ve seen with other films of the era. (Again, some of this may be owed to an aged source print. Such is the nature of restoration as I’ve learned.) Lastly, there are a few special features worthy of note: this disc includes a good commentary from film scholar Jason Ney (I found it a bit too heavy on trivia and would’ve liked to know a bit more about this particular film, but this happens a lot as detail on older productions can be elusive). There’s also a studio-produced documentary on spiritualism which I found honestly more interesting than the commentary. (What can I say?) Lastly, the booklet insert contains an essay exploring Bey’s career (in Hollywood and beyond) which is very complimentary to the man I knew little about. A nice collection.
Recommended. Though I found The Amazing Mr. X a bit hard to classify – it’s not quite Horror, not quite Drama, not quite Film-Noir – it exists in the happy junction of many genres. Performances are good – Bey works surprisingly well as the conman who eventually succumbs to the heart of gold he never knew he had; Bari and O’Donnell’s work as sister feels authentic though occasionally a bit stilted toward stereotypes of the era; and Carlson fills the shoes of the dutiful suitor quite nicely. Look for a great cameo-style role for Harry Mendoza as Detective Hoffman, the magician turned lawman who steals his few scenes easily.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at The Film Detective provided me with a Blu-ray of The Amazing Mr. X 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