- Published on
Dare I say: Swamp Thing has never really moved me as a reader, but I do have a fondness for the 1982 theatrical incarnation brought to life – in comic book fashion – by the late Wes Craven.
I’ve mentioned before that I grew up in a small, small town; and – on Saturdays – the only real escape from the doldrums of existence was our hometown movie theater. A film like Swamp Thing would arrive, and – most likely because all of the kids would flock to see it – it would get held over for a few weeks. The end result of these repeat engagements is that we’d go to see it again and again, perhaps not so much because we loved it but because … well … it was playing … there was nothing else to do … and we were bored otherwise. We’re all creatures of habit, as they say, so who’s to say no? Suffice it to say, I probably sat through Craven’s film four times (at least!), so I grew to appreciate it unlike other features of the era.
However, I give you my word that for years I’ve avoided viewing The Return Of Swamp Thing (1989). And, yes, this was a conscious choice on my part, mostly because – being one who traffics with a great number of folks who talk about film – I’d only heard some pretty awful assessments of the sequel. While the first installment was no big winner by any estimation, everyone I know insisted that the follow-up wasn’t worth the time, mostly because of its cookie-cutter plot, horrible performances, and low-quality production.
Well, many years have gone by now – actually, three decades – and I think it’s safe to say that, for the most part, everything I had been told was mostly accurate. I’ve finally sat down and watched this curious misfire of a comic book property. About the only good thing I can truly say about it is that – if you have kids – they may get a kick out of it. The story definitely leans heavily toward the young audiences, so much so that I’m not surprised this one has likely ended up in the trash heap of film history.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“In this tongue-in-cheek sequel, the benevolent bog creature falls for the vegetarian, plant-loving daughter of the evil scientist who created him.”
As I said above, I do have a love for Swamp Thing.
In fact, my love of the original film has caused me on more than one occasion to even pick up a few graphic novel collections exploring the history of DC Comics’ creature feature. I’ve checked out both incarnations of the live action television shows highlighting the monster; the first one – like The Return Of Swamp Thing – was painfully bad, and the second one just never quite found any grounding, never built up any momentum. I think Swamp Thing is a hard sell in some respects because his better stories are a bit ‘out there.’ Outside of the character’s origins, his isn’t the most relatable story out there, if you know what I mean.
I’ve mentioned before that I grew up in a small, small town; and – on Saturdays – the only real escape from the doldrums of existence was our hometown movie theater. A film like Swamp Thing would arrive, and – most likely because all of the kids would flock to see it – it would get held over for a few weeks. The end result of these repeat engagements is that we’d go to see it again and again, perhaps not so much because we loved it but because … well … it was playing … there was nothing else to do … and we were bored otherwise. We’re all creatures of habit, as they say, so who’s to say no? Suffice it to say, I probably sat through Craven’s film four times (at least!), so I grew to appreciate it unlike other features of the era.
However, I give you my word that for years I’ve avoided viewing The Return Of Swamp Thing (1989). And, yes, this was a conscious choice on my part, mostly because – being one who traffics with a great number of folks who talk about film – I’d only heard some pretty awful assessments of the sequel. While the first installment was no big winner by any estimation, everyone I know insisted that the follow-up wasn’t worth the time, mostly because of its cookie-cutter plot, horrible performances, and low-quality production.
Well, many years have gone by now – actually, three decades – and I think it’s safe to say that, for the most part, everything I had been told was mostly accurate. I’ve finally sat down and watched this curious misfire of a comic book property. About the only good thing I can truly say about it is that – if you have kids – they may get a kick out of it. The story definitely leans heavily toward the young audiences, so much so that I’m not surprised this one has likely ended up in the trash heap of film history.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“In this tongue-in-cheek sequel, the benevolent bog creature falls for the vegetarian, plant-loving daughter of the evil scientist who created him.”
As I said above, I do have a love for Swamp Thing.
In fact, my love of the original film has caused me on more than one occasion to even pick up a few graphic novel collections exploring the history of DC Comics’ creature feature. I’ve checked out both incarnations of the live action television shows highlighting the monster; the first one – like The Return Of Swamp Thing – was painfully bad, and the second one just never quite found any grounding, never built up any momentum. I think Swamp Thing is a hard sell in some respects because his better stories are a bit ‘out there.’ Outside of the character’s origins, his isn’t the most relatable story out there, if you know what I mean.
But I find myself asking how could a fixture as prominent as Swamp Thing get such an overwhelming milquetoast theatrical outing as The Return? The script from Derek Spencer and Grant Morris is unrepentantly bland, pretty much striking the exact same arc for Alec Holland/Swampy character (played by Dick Durock), which is to say that he’ll need to stand his ground against the onslaught of bad science stemming from the secret shenanigans of Dr. Anton Arcane (Louis Jourdan reprising his role also from the original). Even the reliable Sarah Douglas can’t elevate the simplicity of the action; her guise as ‘good scientist / bad scientist’ Dr. Lana Zurrell is largely wasted in a secondary plotline and sadly demonstrates the flick’s only real narrative traction. Alas, she’s gone before you know it, and you’ll definitely miss her – and her passing contribution – once it’s gone.
Perhaps the worst addition, however, is Heather Locklear.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m all for a pretty face when a pretty face is needed. In fact, I’m often flamed by casual readers for pointing out that sometimes the best attributes put to good use in movies are good looks, and Locklear here is in top form … as an uncontested beauty queen. Though she’s given a few worthwhile snarky lines, she can’t otherwise act to save her life much less the lives of anyone else in here in jeopardy – though I believe she emerges unscathed for those who will worry otherwise – and the fact that the script really gives her nothing to do except serve as a love interest and ‘damsel-in-distress’ proves that this is likely why she was hired to the part. She lacks any of the moxie of, say, Kim Basinger rather famously brought to her role of ‘Vicki Vale’ in 1989’s Batman; and I suspect this may be what producers had in mind when Locklear was cast. It’s hard enough making sparks fly opposite a stalk of celery, but that’s what she was meant to do … and she fails stupendously.
Perhaps Return’s saving grace is a pair of young children who are along for the ride and tend to pop up when the story needs a laugh or two. On that front, they’re effective, though forgettable …
… and I suspect man of you will want to forget this film as well.
The Return Of Swamp Thing (1989) was produced by Lightyear Entertainment. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by Lightyear and MVD Visual. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights and sounds of this one to be surprisingly good. (Having watched the new 4K Restoration from the original interpositive, I can assure you that its both crisp and bright. Nice work!) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then you have quite a bit to look forward to. The 4K disc boasts the restored film, an interview with producer Michael E. Uslan, and a curious RiffTrax music video. The Blu-ray includes two separate commentary tracks, some interview shorts, promotional clips, TV spots, a photo gallery, and a bit more. It’s a fabulous collection for people who like this sort of thing.
(Mildly) Recommended.
Though I give this one only a modest recommendation, I think it’s safe to say that it’s likely only intended for the very young – an audience of children, basically – as it just lacks any real substance in plot, character, and (ahem) acting. It isn’t as bad as I’ve been led to believe over the years, but it’s definitely close. It was undoubtedly produced on a pretty slim budget. The humor isn’t all that grand. And the jolly green giant of the swamps really deserved something vastly more fitting than this.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Lightyear provided me with a complimentary 4K UltraHD + Blu-ray copy of The Return Of Swamp Thing (1989) 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
Perhaps the worst addition, however, is Heather Locklear.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m all for a pretty face when a pretty face is needed. In fact, I’m often flamed by casual readers for pointing out that sometimes the best attributes put to good use in movies are good looks, and Locklear here is in top form … as an uncontested beauty queen. Though she’s given a few worthwhile snarky lines, she can’t otherwise act to save her life much less the lives of anyone else in here in jeopardy – though I believe she emerges unscathed for those who will worry otherwise – and the fact that the script really gives her nothing to do except serve as a love interest and ‘damsel-in-distress’ proves that this is likely why she was hired to the part. She lacks any of the moxie of, say, Kim Basinger rather famously brought to her role of ‘Vicki Vale’ in 1989’s Batman; and I suspect this may be what producers had in mind when Locklear was cast. It’s hard enough making sparks fly opposite a stalk of celery, but that’s what she was meant to do … and she fails stupendously.
Perhaps Return’s saving grace is a pair of young children who are along for the ride and tend to pop up when the story needs a laugh or two. On that front, they’re effective, though forgettable …
… and I suspect man of you will want to forget this film as well.
The Return Of Swamp Thing (1989) was produced by Lightyear Entertainment. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by Lightyear and MVD Visual. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights and sounds of this one to be surprisingly good. (Having watched the new 4K Restoration from the original interpositive, I can assure you that its both crisp and bright. Nice work!) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then you have quite a bit to look forward to. The 4K disc boasts the restored film, an interview with producer Michael E. Uslan, and a curious RiffTrax music video. The Blu-ray includes two separate commentary tracks, some interview shorts, promotional clips, TV spots, a photo gallery, and a bit more. It’s a fabulous collection for people who like this sort of thing.
(Mildly) Recommended.
Though I give this one only a modest recommendation, I think it’s safe to say that it’s likely only intended for the very young – an audience of children, basically – as it just lacks any real substance in plot, character, and (ahem) acting. It isn’t as bad as I’ve been led to believe over the years, but it’s definitely close. It was undoubtedly produced on a pretty slim budget. The humor isn’t all that grand. And the jolly green giant of the swamps really deserved something vastly more fitting than this.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Lightyear provided me with a complimentary 4K UltraHD + Blu-ray copy of The Return Of Swamp Thing (1989) 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
"We didn't come here to fight with monsters. We're not equipped for it. We came here to find fossils."
-- Dr. David Reed (as played by Richard Carlson)
-- Dr. David Reed (as played by Richard Carlson)
It doesn't happen all that often these days, but occasionally I'm still asked by readers and folks I 'get together with' to talk about Science Fiction and Fantasy about what are the seminal films of my youth ... the very flicks that got me started down the primrose path to working so very hard at being one of webdom's singular SciFi Influencers (if I do say so myself).
I often try to explain that because SciFi, Fantasy, and Horror are such mixed bags -- there are dozens and dozens of subgenres within each broader type -- that it's difficult to name but a few. But in my past I was pressed very hard to come up with those that I can recall vividly seeing on the TV screen of my youngest days. So, yeah, I kinda/sorta racked my brain a bit on one occasion, and I can come up with the top three. Now, these three pictures I don't mean to be essential viewing necessarily; all I mean with them is that these are definitely three pictures I can still remember watching when I was very, very young -- but a wee sprite -- and falling in love with at that time. None of them did I see theatrically -- nor have I yet, though I keep encouraging local theaters to bring them back in limited engagements -- but I do hold out hope that I'll get to them up in the lights at some point.
But ... I digress ...
These three films are:
First, 1951's The Day The Earth Stood Still. It's a rare gem that I think is a relevant a Science Fiction film that's ever been done. I think it's stood the test of time and deserves to be rediscovered with each generation of viewers. Though I don't exactly 'hate' the 2008 remake like so many do -- I think it's a misunderstood flick, honestly -- I'll always argue to watch the original over any newfangled imitator. It's just that good.
Second, 1967's Quatermass And The Pit. This was a film I saw very, very, very late at night -- it was on some local channel overnight movie slot -- and I do remember being so very much drawn to it. I'll admit that I was so young that there were a few parts of it I didn't quite understand at the time -- I asked my father a helluva lot of questions about the ending, and he probably got annoyed with my talking about it so much -- but to this day I can recall first being captivated by it. I've got it on DVD, and I probably watch it once a year.
Lastly?
1954's Creature From The Black Lagoon.
While I did watch Universal Pictures' Frankenstein (1931), Dracula (1931), and The Wolf Man (1941) and loved them, too, they didn't quite register with me as much as Creature did. While I couldn't say why specifically, I've always felt it was because Creature didn't quite have a spectacular backstory they did. There were no 'transformation' sequences of any kind -- from ordinary to extraordinary -- so I always took it at face value that this was who he always was, the only form he'd ever truly known in existence. And what a frightening visage he was! Gills and all, Creature was kinda/sorta plucked out of one's nightmare ... and he was gifted with this look that automatically set folks back if not running away. He truly had no choice in his life, had no say in his creation, and I always saw him as forced into this villainous mode by absolutely no fault of his own.
So it was this framework that always reminded me to be a bit more respectfully of things that go bump in the night mostly because they very likely had nothing to do with their own making. Not all monsters are bad ... some are just born looking bad and have to adopt such ways as a consequence of merely being born. Such was the Creature, and I learned to appreciate monsters in an all-new way as a young'un.
Here's the plot summary as provided by our friends at IMDB.com:
"A strange prehistoric beast lurks in the depths of the Amazonian jungle. A group of scientists try to capture the animal and bring it back to civilization for study."
I often try to explain that because SciFi, Fantasy, and Horror are such mixed bags -- there are dozens and dozens of subgenres within each broader type -- that it's difficult to name but a few. But in my past I was pressed very hard to come up with those that I can recall vividly seeing on the TV screen of my youngest days. So, yeah, I kinda/sorta racked my brain a bit on one occasion, and I can come up with the top three. Now, these three pictures I don't mean to be essential viewing necessarily; all I mean with them is that these are definitely three pictures I can still remember watching when I was very, very young -- but a wee sprite -- and falling in love with at that time. None of them did I see theatrically -- nor have I yet, though I keep encouraging local theaters to bring them back in limited engagements -- but I do hold out hope that I'll get to them up in the lights at some point.
But ... I digress ...
These three films are:
First, 1951's The Day The Earth Stood Still. It's a rare gem that I think is a relevant a Science Fiction film that's ever been done. I think it's stood the test of time and deserves to be rediscovered with each generation of viewers. Though I don't exactly 'hate' the 2008 remake like so many do -- I think it's a misunderstood flick, honestly -- I'll always argue to watch the original over any newfangled imitator. It's just that good.
Second, 1967's Quatermass And The Pit. This was a film I saw very, very, very late at night -- it was on some local channel overnight movie slot -- and I do remember being so very much drawn to it. I'll admit that I was so young that there were a few parts of it I didn't quite understand at the time -- I asked my father a helluva lot of questions about the ending, and he probably got annoyed with my talking about it so much -- but to this day I can recall first being captivated by it. I've got it on DVD, and I probably watch it once a year.
Lastly?
1954's Creature From The Black Lagoon.
While I did watch Universal Pictures' Frankenstein (1931), Dracula (1931), and The Wolf Man (1941) and loved them, too, they didn't quite register with me as much as Creature did. While I couldn't say why specifically, I've always felt it was because Creature didn't quite have a spectacular backstory they did. There were no 'transformation' sequences of any kind -- from ordinary to extraordinary -- so I always took it at face value that this was who he always was, the only form he'd ever truly known in existence. And what a frightening visage he was! Gills and all, Creature was kinda/sorta plucked out of one's nightmare ... and he was gifted with this look that automatically set folks back if not running away. He truly had no choice in his life, had no say in his creation, and I always saw him as forced into this villainous mode by absolutely no fault of his own.
So it was this framework that always reminded me to be a bit more respectfully of things that go bump in the night mostly because they very likely had nothing to do with their own making. Not all monsters are bad ... some are just born looking bad and have to adopt such ways as a consequence of merely being born. Such was the Creature, and I learned to appreciate monsters in an all-new way as a young'un.
Here's the plot summary as provided by our friends at IMDB.com:
"A strange prehistoric beast lurks in the depths of the Amazonian jungle. A group of scientists try to capture the animal and bring it back to civilization for study."
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
-- EZ
- Published on
Auteurs get a bad rap.
This isn’t because they lack the ability to provide a cohesive product that can also make a buck. More likely, it’s owed to the fact that audiences avoid even investing time and effort into understanding something if its central message isn’t grasped and understood in the first fifteen (or so) minutes. These days, audiences expect quite a heavy load of the narrative to be front-loaded, and they’re typically unwilling to wait for whatever rewards might be situated right around the proverbial corner. As our attention spans have grown narrower and narrower, films that present a longer story or serve as an allegory for something bigger than the latest Ben Stiller comedy (“art” for the masses-at-large) or Martin Scorsese film (art for the critical masses) just aren’t given the time of day.
Now, granted, not every auteur-driven motion picture deserves as much commentary as the next, but a truly visionary film has the ability to not only change the way stories are told but also they might encourage us to think about ourselves and our roles in the greater world at large. They’re as challenging to behold as they challenge us, and this doesn’t sit well with the usual popcorn crowd.
To its credit, Upstream Color is something special. It’s something different. It’s both big and small in the same estimation … and – most of all? It deserves as audience.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and characters. If you’re the kind of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last two paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
Unlike writer/director (and star) Shane Carruth’s earlier film – Primer (2004) – which I found to be entirely far too esoteric or relatable for its own good, Upstream Color grounds its story in real characters that an audience can care about, root for, and seek to understand. (Mind you, their journey will not be all that clear from the picture’s start.) The hard science he leaves in the background, like a forever-present undercurrent driving the plot forward but isn’t so obvious that it ever truly takes central focus. It's both there as much as it isn’t as we’re taken along this discovery alongside people searching to solve a mystery tying them together in ways that won’t be clear until the ending.
Also, Carruth smartly populates Color with folks whose flaws enjoy both conventional and unconventional definition. You only understand pieces of them and their trajectories because knowing too much too soon might upset the delicate balance between story and substance. What looks black might be white – or vice versa – but it’s all presented in such a way that it’s easy to follow, almost daring viewers to ‘wait and see’ over gradual forward progress. In some ways, this technique swings open the door to some very conspiratorial waters, but the script maintains a clear and present Science Fiction foundation, one with layers, that’ll only casually be revealed. It’s a deft trick – blending fantasy with a bit of reality – but I thought it work brilliantly.
Amy (played with ‘girl-next-door’ aplomb by Amy Seimetz) finds her world unexplainably spiraling out of control as she awakens from a substance-abused ‘invasion’ which leaves her jobless and (nearly) penniless. As she begins her life anew, she finds herself curiously drawn to Jeff (Carruth) in ways that defy any logical explanation. It is as if destiny has, somehow, inexplicably pulled them together, though they’ve no collective understanding of why they behave with one another the way that they do. Together – and with great patience – they begin to explore the various ‘surprises’ of their shared existence, leading them to uncover the truth that their ‘joint reality’ is not quite what it seems.
Color is the kind of film whose story is difficult to describe without spoiling some of the tale’s internal magic.
Suffice it to say, the science-themed romance is nothing short of visual poetry probably best suited for cinema buffs, film aficionados, and academics who prefer more meat than sauce with their meals. It isn’t the kind of product that’s designed for immediately pay-off of shots and sequences and even smaller moments; it requires a cognitive investment on the part of the viewer. It takes time, and that isn’t something all viewers are willing to spare. Rest assured: it all goes somewhere. Everything presented has an answer, and yet it isn’t forthcoming in the same way that traditional films are more commonly constructed. This is one that’s revealed in substantive layers – in the nuances of what looks superficially to be even quirky performances by the players – and even the final scene can speak volumes to the person who finally ‘gets it.’
I’ve no doubt that some will or have dismissed Color as an art-house creation, and, to some degree, I suppose that’s a legitimate criticism. Certainly, these 90 minutes will not be to everyone’s liking. Discerning fans of intelligent science fiction will probably be most impressed … so long as they’re willing to make the commitment to come for the meal but stay for the pie.
Upstream Color is produced by ERBP. DVD distribution is being handled by Cinedigm Entertainment Group. As for the technical specifications … wow. The visual and audio elements of COLOR are exceptional; all aspects weave together to tell this singular story in several possible ways that are always clever and inspired. Unfortunately (and shame, shame, shame!), the only special features available on the disc I was provided are the theatrical trailers, and that doesn’t even come close to scratching the surface of what I would’ve expected or wanted. This film is something special, and, as such, I believe it deserved more.
Also, I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that Upstream Color served as an ‘Official Selection’ of the 2013 Sundance Film Festival, the 63rd Panorama Internationale Filmfestspiele of Berlin, the SXSW Film Festival, and the 2013 New Directors/New Films Festival. Also, the film won the Special Jury Prize for Sound Design at 2013’s Sundance.
Highest recommendation possible.
Upstream Color is an aggressively original vision of a world wherein cause, effect, and purpose collide in ways unimaginable. You’d be a fool not to discover it.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at ERBP via Cinedigm Entertainment Group provided me with a DVD copy of Upstream Color by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.
-- EZ
This isn’t because they lack the ability to provide a cohesive product that can also make a buck. More likely, it’s owed to the fact that audiences avoid even investing time and effort into understanding something if its central message isn’t grasped and understood in the first fifteen (or so) minutes. These days, audiences expect quite a heavy load of the narrative to be front-loaded, and they’re typically unwilling to wait for whatever rewards might be situated right around the proverbial corner. As our attention spans have grown narrower and narrower, films that present a longer story or serve as an allegory for something bigger than the latest Ben Stiller comedy (“art” for the masses-at-large) or Martin Scorsese film (art for the critical masses) just aren’t given the time of day.
Now, granted, not every auteur-driven motion picture deserves as much commentary as the next, but a truly visionary film has the ability to not only change the way stories are told but also they might encourage us to think about ourselves and our roles in the greater world at large. They’re as challenging to behold as they challenge us, and this doesn’t sit well with the usual popcorn crowd.
To its credit, Upstream Color is something special. It’s something different. It’s both big and small in the same estimation … and – most of all? It deserves as audience.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and characters. If you’re the kind of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last two paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
Unlike writer/director (and star) Shane Carruth’s earlier film – Primer (2004) – which I found to be entirely far too esoteric or relatable for its own good, Upstream Color grounds its story in real characters that an audience can care about, root for, and seek to understand. (Mind you, their journey will not be all that clear from the picture’s start.) The hard science he leaves in the background, like a forever-present undercurrent driving the plot forward but isn’t so obvious that it ever truly takes central focus. It's both there as much as it isn’t as we’re taken along this discovery alongside people searching to solve a mystery tying them together in ways that won’t be clear until the ending.
Also, Carruth smartly populates Color with folks whose flaws enjoy both conventional and unconventional definition. You only understand pieces of them and their trajectories because knowing too much too soon might upset the delicate balance between story and substance. What looks black might be white – or vice versa – but it’s all presented in such a way that it’s easy to follow, almost daring viewers to ‘wait and see’ over gradual forward progress. In some ways, this technique swings open the door to some very conspiratorial waters, but the script maintains a clear and present Science Fiction foundation, one with layers, that’ll only casually be revealed. It’s a deft trick – blending fantasy with a bit of reality – but I thought it work brilliantly.
Amy (played with ‘girl-next-door’ aplomb by Amy Seimetz) finds her world unexplainably spiraling out of control as she awakens from a substance-abused ‘invasion’ which leaves her jobless and (nearly) penniless. As she begins her life anew, she finds herself curiously drawn to Jeff (Carruth) in ways that defy any logical explanation. It is as if destiny has, somehow, inexplicably pulled them together, though they’ve no collective understanding of why they behave with one another the way that they do. Together – and with great patience – they begin to explore the various ‘surprises’ of their shared existence, leading them to uncover the truth that their ‘joint reality’ is not quite what it seems.
Color is the kind of film whose story is difficult to describe without spoiling some of the tale’s internal magic.
Suffice it to say, the science-themed romance is nothing short of visual poetry probably best suited for cinema buffs, film aficionados, and academics who prefer more meat than sauce with their meals. It isn’t the kind of product that’s designed for immediately pay-off of shots and sequences and even smaller moments; it requires a cognitive investment on the part of the viewer. It takes time, and that isn’t something all viewers are willing to spare. Rest assured: it all goes somewhere. Everything presented has an answer, and yet it isn’t forthcoming in the same way that traditional films are more commonly constructed. This is one that’s revealed in substantive layers – in the nuances of what looks superficially to be even quirky performances by the players – and even the final scene can speak volumes to the person who finally ‘gets it.’
I’ve no doubt that some will or have dismissed Color as an art-house creation, and, to some degree, I suppose that’s a legitimate criticism. Certainly, these 90 minutes will not be to everyone’s liking. Discerning fans of intelligent science fiction will probably be most impressed … so long as they’re willing to make the commitment to come for the meal but stay for the pie.
Upstream Color is produced by ERBP. DVD distribution is being handled by Cinedigm Entertainment Group. As for the technical specifications … wow. The visual and audio elements of COLOR are exceptional; all aspects weave together to tell this singular story in several possible ways that are always clever and inspired. Unfortunately (and shame, shame, shame!), the only special features available on the disc I was provided are the theatrical trailers, and that doesn’t even come close to scratching the surface of what I would’ve expected or wanted. This film is something special, and, as such, I believe it deserved more.
Also, I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that Upstream Color served as an ‘Official Selection’ of the 2013 Sundance Film Festival, the 63rd Panorama Internationale Filmfestspiele of Berlin, the SXSW Film Festival, and the 2013 New Directors/New Films Festival. Also, the film won the Special Jury Prize for Sound Design at 2013’s Sundance.
Highest recommendation possible.
Upstream Color is an aggressively original vision of a world wherein cause, effect, and purpose collide in ways unimaginable. You’d be a fool not to discover it.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at ERBP via Cinedigm Entertainment Group provided me with a DVD copy of Upstream Color by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.
-- EZ
- Published on
As I caution from time-to-time, it isn't always easy to locate some interesting information online regarding these older releases. Thus, it can be difficult to give you a bit of trivia about them, and such is the case with today's feature release: Moon Pilot.
In case you've never heard of it, Moon Pilot was released into theaters on this day all the way back in 1962. It was produced by the Walt Disney Company -- seriously, they have a pretty interesting library of flicks for anyone who has spent time culling through them for some past gems -- and was directed by James Neilson. A quick glance at Neilson's IMDB.com shows that he clearly got his star in episodic television before transitioning to motion pictures (with this very film, I believe), helming hours and half-hours in some memorable shows of the past. Still, his genre credentials are fairly light: the only other items I notice in there include a few episodes of the late 1960's Batman TV series (sorry, kids, I wasn't a fan) along with a Fantasy-lite movie titled Dr. Syn, Alias The Scarecrow (1963).
Having brushed over a few online reviews for Moon Pilot, I get the impression that it kinda/sorta wasn't such a typical Disney story as originally intended but -- somewheres along the way -- it was properly Disneyfied.
From what I've read, Moon Pilot actually began life as the novel "Starfire" by novelist Robert Buckner. (Truth be told, Buckner was a fairly well-established Hollywood phenomenon himself, both writing and producing efforts. He even has an Oscar nomination to his credit.) Apparently, the work appeared in serialized format across several issues of The Saturday Evening Post, and its popularity was registered by the Mouse House. Wikipedia.org notes that Disney purchased the rights to it in 1961, and an adaptation was assigned to Maurice Tombragel. (I've seen Tombragel's name before, and I see online that it's associated with the genre series Korg: 70,000 B.C.)
Again, all I can do at this point is fall back on the impressions of what I've read. Starfire appears to be a comic novel -- a picture of its cover online promises the reader "the hilarious exploits of a bashful scientist and a creature gorgeous enough to send any man into orbit" -- but reviews of the completed film imply that the humor as depicted is a bit uneven. There's the occasional mention of even slapstick (gasp!), a form of visual schtick a bit too common to Mouse House films of that era, and I can't help but wonder if the end product was underwhelming to Science Fiction and Fantasy's more discriminating viewership. We're all up for a good laugh ... but not at the expense of a good story, which it appears this one never quite delivered.
Here's the premie as provided by the good people at IMDB.com:
"Away on a short leave before an upcoming moon launch, a NASA astronaut disappears and is feared kidnapped when the security services learn about his friendship with a suspected foreign female spy."
As for the cast?
Moon Pilot gave Tom Tryon a big lead, and -- to the film's benefit -- that may have been one of its biggest inspirations. While his screen career may not have been as expansive and/or exhaustive as others, Tryon had the attention of fandom already established with a lead role in 1958's I Married A Monster From Outer Space for Paramount Pictures. Despite the crudity of that one's title, many reviews are reasonably complimentary, calling out the feature's good acting as well as a solid central premise (an alien species' pronounced desperation of avoiding extinction). And -- interestingly enough, especially given that I Married A Monster is quintessential 1950's Science Fiction -- it's a film that miraculously got included on a 2002 list (out of 400 titles) in American Film Institute's attempt to have its membership vote for the top 100 of America's Greatest Love Stories. For what it's worth, Tryon gave up his film career in the early 1970's but spent the better part of his remaining time on Earth as a successful novelist.
French actress Dany Saval was introduced to American audiences via her role as 'Lyrae,' the seminal alien temptress mentioned above. IMDB.com reports that a Disney talent scout saw the woman's picture on a magazine cover, and her beauty prompted the studio to inquire about her availability. Alas, Pilot's box office receipts weren't exactly to the moon (snicker snicker), and the actress ended up returning to his native country (France) not long thereafter. She retired from the movie business in the late 1980's.
Believe it or not, the flick also includes a young Sally Fields in an uncredited role as a 'Beatnik Girl' featured in a police lineup.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
In case you've never heard of it, Moon Pilot was released into theaters on this day all the way back in 1962. It was produced by the Walt Disney Company -- seriously, they have a pretty interesting library of flicks for anyone who has spent time culling through them for some past gems -- and was directed by James Neilson. A quick glance at Neilson's IMDB.com shows that he clearly got his star in episodic television before transitioning to motion pictures (with this very film, I believe), helming hours and half-hours in some memorable shows of the past. Still, his genre credentials are fairly light: the only other items I notice in there include a few episodes of the late 1960's Batman TV series (sorry, kids, I wasn't a fan) along with a Fantasy-lite movie titled Dr. Syn, Alias The Scarecrow (1963).
Having brushed over a few online reviews for Moon Pilot, I get the impression that it kinda/sorta wasn't such a typical Disney story as originally intended but -- somewheres along the way -- it was properly Disneyfied.
From what I've read, Moon Pilot actually began life as the novel "Starfire" by novelist Robert Buckner. (Truth be told, Buckner was a fairly well-established Hollywood phenomenon himself, both writing and producing efforts. He even has an Oscar nomination to his credit.) Apparently, the work appeared in serialized format across several issues of The Saturday Evening Post, and its popularity was registered by the Mouse House. Wikipedia.org notes that Disney purchased the rights to it in 1961, and an adaptation was assigned to Maurice Tombragel. (I've seen Tombragel's name before, and I see online that it's associated with the genre series Korg: 70,000 B.C.)
Again, all I can do at this point is fall back on the impressions of what I've read. Starfire appears to be a comic novel -- a picture of its cover online promises the reader "the hilarious exploits of a bashful scientist and a creature gorgeous enough to send any man into orbit" -- but reviews of the completed film imply that the humor as depicted is a bit uneven. There's the occasional mention of even slapstick (gasp!), a form of visual schtick a bit too common to Mouse House films of that era, and I can't help but wonder if the end product was underwhelming to Science Fiction and Fantasy's more discriminating viewership. We're all up for a good laugh ... but not at the expense of a good story, which it appears this one never quite delivered.
Here's the premie as provided by the good people at IMDB.com:
"Away on a short leave before an upcoming moon launch, a NASA astronaut disappears and is feared kidnapped when the security services learn about his friendship with a suspected foreign female spy."
As for the cast?
Moon Pilot gave Tom Tryon a big lead, and -- to the film's benefit -- that may have been one of its biggest inspirations. While his screen career may not have been as expansive and/or exhaustive as others, Tryon had the attention of fandom already established with a lead role in 1958's I Married A Monster From Outer Space for Paramount Pictures. Despite the crudity of that one's title, many reviews are reasonably complimentary, calling out the feature's good acting as well as a solid central premise (an alien species' pronounced desperation of avoiding extinction). And -- interestingly enough, especially given that I Married A Monster is quintessential 1950's Science Fiction -- it's a film that miraculously got included on a 2002 list (out of 400 titles) in American Film Institute's attempt to have its membership vote for the top 100 of America's Greatest Love Stories. For what it's worth, Tryon gave up his film career in the early 1970's but spent the better part of his remaining time on Earth as a successful novelist.
French actress Dany Saval was introduced to American audiences via her role as 'Lyrae,' the seminal alien temptress mentioned above. IMDB.com reports that a Disney talent scout saw the woman's picture on a magazine cover, and her beauty prompted the studio to inquire about her availability. Alas, Pilot's box office receipts weren't exactly to the moon (snicker snicker), and the actress ended up returning to his native country (France) not long thereafter. She retired from the movie business in the late 1980's.
Believe it or not, the flick also includes a young Sally Fields in an uncredited role as a 'Beatnik Girl' featured in a police lineup.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
The good news?
Horror films can be made on the cheap!
The bad news?
Well, sadly … Horror films can be made on the cheap.
If I had a dime for every film I’ve seen like Abandoned Souls, then I’d at least have earned enough scratch to make my very own horror flick. On the cheap, at least! I don’t know if that would be a good thing or a bad thing, as I’ve never made a motion picture. Sadly, many other people in the entertainment biz suffer from that same affliction, it would appear.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and characters. If you’re the kind 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 film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“In an underground prison an inmate escapes during a riot. One year later, a group of friends set out to locate an old hermit shack. Their worst nightmares are revealed when they spawn an evil darkness within the escaped prisoner.”
Now … Abandoned Souls starts with a very big premise.
There’s this derelict prison facility that apparently is housing men and women who’ve been turned to something similar to zombies or cannibals or feral people (or some other such Horror-fueled nonsense). Then someone orchestrates a bit of a prison break (or sorts) or was it? Unfortunately, it’s very unclear, though trust me when I saw it’s all rendered as stylishly as can be accomplished in post-production trickery. And then some highly-weaponized SWAT team (or some task force or other) rushes the place, only to find most of the inmates are gone. At this point, the commander then receives an ominous request: “Make them all disappear again.”
Again?
What?
When did they disappear the first time?
Sadly, this is the case with much of what accounts for story in Souls. The opening is a ten-minute set-up reel exploring this prison and its man-eating (or are they?) inmates, and then the viewer is presented with the apocryphal “one year later …” tagline. So the audience is thrown forward in time a full year after events they’re shown but given no clear explanation for.
So … anyway … one year later, a group of friends headed up by McKenzie (played by a lovely Vicki Rivard) and David (a relentlessly dour Aiden Simko) escape the big city for a cabin in the woods (never a good idea, people), and anyone should be able to guess what’s about to happen: yes, they’re all going to spend the weekend basically terrorized by one or more of these feral critterfolk.
As you may guess from my tone, I was mostly disappointed with Souls.
It would’ve been nice to minimally be given a greater explanation on those fateful opening ten minutes; if nothing else, writer/director Chris Abell would’ve established some greater context for which he was going to spin the real story that follows. Alas, things fall apart from that point onward, and, while it never truly musters up any significant scares, it does feature a nice central performance by Ms. Rivard. In fact, she’s so good in the role that I can only hope someone discovers her and offers her work in another picture (one with more thought, preparation, and execution); she’s a reasonably talented bright spot in an otherwise dim work.
Also, I’m fairly well known in these parts for giving ‘props’ (kudos) to bright ideas, so I’d be a fool if I missed the chance to say that Souls has a smattering of good ideas in it. The central problem is there’s nothing connecting all of those good ideas but incidental characters. For example, I love the reality wherein some secret cadre of monster hunters are hired to roam the backwoods and abandoned cabins of America snuffing out monsters. Heck, NBC had a popular program in its line-up (called Grimm) that uses that structure as a jumping off point, and where would a franchise like The X-Files be without agents Scully and Mulder relentlessly pursuing what goes bump in the night? Had director Abell fleshed that out some more, brought those characters into focus, and made his 'twentysomethings lost in the woods’ an effective B-Story, then Souls may’ve had the chance to achieve at least cult status.
But as it is? It feels mostly just abandoned.
Unfortunately, I can’t say who produced Abandoned Souls as I’ve been unable to locate any information online pertaining to it (IMDB.com surprisingly has no substantive information regarding it). DVD distribution is being handled by Maverick Entertainment Group. As for the technical specifications, the film looks and sounds about as well as most independent horror schlock does these days, but the sound engineers could’ve used a refresher course in how to properly ‘mike’ several scenes. (Also, there’s one sequence where the cinematographer or director completely substituted a completely different film stock because colors changed jarringly dramatically, and that’s never a good thing.) The DVD screener I was provided had no available features, so I can’t speak to whether or not the consumer product will have any.
(Mildly) recommended.
There’s an audience out there somewhere for films like Abandoned Souls mostly because they keep getting made. This isn’t to say that it’s entirely a disappointment; there’s a nice central performance from Vicki Rivard, and clearly some thought went into Abell’s script. Methinks Abell was too close to all the action as the director and writer to see the inherent weaknesses of the entire project, and that ends up being the picture’s biggest Achilles’ Heel.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Maverick Entertainment Group provided me with a DVD screener copy by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.
-- EZ
Horror films can be made on the cheap!
The bad news?
Well, sadly … Horror films can be made on the cheap.
If I had a dime for every film I’ve seen like Abandoned Souls, then I’d at least have earned enough scratch to make my very own horror flick. On the cheap, at least! I don’t know if that would be a good thing or a bad thing, as I’ve never made a motion picture. Sadly, many other people in the entertainment biz suffer from that same affliction, it would appear.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and characters. If you’re the kind 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 film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“In an underground prison an inmate escapes during a riot. One year later, a group of friends set out to locate an old hermit shack. Their worst nightmares are revealed when they spawn an evil darkness within the escaped prisoner.”
Now … Abandoned Souls starts with a very big premise.
There’s this derelict prison facility that apparently is housing men and women who’ve been turned to something similar to zombies or cannibals or feral people (or some other such Horror-fueled nonsense). Then someone orchestrates a bit of a prison break (or sorts) or was it? Unfortunately, it’s very unclear, though trust me when I saw it’s all rendered as stylishly as can be accomplished in post-production trickery. And then some highly-weaponized SWAT team (or some task force or other) rushes the place, only to find most of the inmates are gone. At this point, the commander then receives an ominous request: “Make them all disappear again.”
Again?
What?
When did they disappear the first time?
Sadly, this is the case with much of what accounts for story in Souls. The opening is a ten-minute set-up reel exploring this prison and its man-eating (or are they?) inmates, and then the viewer is presented with the apocryphal “one year later …” tagline. So the audience is thrown forward in time a full year after events they’re shown but given no clear explanation for.
So … anyway … one year later, a group of friends headed up by McKenzie (played by a lovely Vicki Rivard) and David (a relentlessly dour Aiden Simko) escape the big city for a cabin in the woods (never a good idea, people), and anyone should be able to guess what’s about to happen: yes, they’re all going to spend the weekend basically terrorized by one or more of these feral critterfolk.
As you may guess from my tone, I was mostly disappointed with Souls.
It would’ve been nice to minimally be given a greater explanation on those fateful opening ten minutes; if nothing else, writer/director Chris Abell would’ve established some greater context for which he was going to spin the real story that follows. Alas, things fall apart from that point onward, and, while it never truly musters up any significant scares, it does feature a nice central performance by Ms. Rivard. In fact, she’s so good in the role that I can only hope someone discovers her and offers her work in another picture (one with more thought, preparation, and execution); she’s a reasonably talented bright spot in an otherwise dim work.
Also, I’m fairly well known in these parts for giving ‘props’ (kudos) to bright ideas, so I’d be a fool if I missed the chance to say that Souls has a smattering of good ideas in it. The central problem is there’s nothing connecting all of those good ideas but incidental characters. For example, I love the reality wherein some secret cadre of monster hunters are hired to roam the backwoods and abandoned cabins of America snuffing out monsters. Heck, NBC had a popular program in its line-up (called Grimm) that uses that structure as a jumping off point, and where would a franchise like The X-Files be without agents Scully and Mulder relentlessly pursuing what goes bump in the night? Had director Abell fleshed that out some more, brought those characters into focus, and made his 'twentysomethings lost in the woods’ an effective B-Story, then Souls may’ve had the chance to achieve at least cult status.
But as it is? It feels mostly just abandoned.
Unfortunately, I can’t say who produced Abandoned Souls as I’ve been unable to locate any information online pertaining to it (IMDB.com surprisingly has no substantive information regarding it). DVD distribution is being handled by Maverick Entertainment Group. As for the technical specifications, the film looks and sounds about as well as most independent horror schlock does these days, but the sound engineers could’ve used a refresher course in how to properly ‘mike’ several scenes. (Also, there’s one sequence where the cinematographer or director completely substituted a completely different film stock because colors changed jarringly dramatically, and that’s never a good thing.) The DVD screener I was provided had no available features, so I can’t speak to whether or not the consumer product will have any.
(Mildly) recommended.
There’s an audience out there somewhere for films like Abandoned Souls mostly because they keep getting made. This isn’t to say that it’s entirely a disappointment; there’s a nice central performance from Vicki Rivard, and clearly some thought went into Abell’s script. Methinks Abell was too close to all the action as the director and writer to see the inherent weaknesses of the entire project, and that ends up being the picture’s biggest Achilles’ Heel.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Maverick Entertainment Group provided me with a DVD screener copy by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.
-- EZ
- Published on
At some point -- when time and resources permit -- I'll get around to another feature I've long wanted to incorporate here at SciFiHistory.Net, that being selecting and naming those motion pictures I personally believe to be 'Essential' viewing.
Honestly, I get asked all the time about Science Fiction and Fantasy films by folks who want to know what are 'the best' of the best, and I've consistently pushed back, trying to explain that -- because SciFi and Fantasy are so, so, so broad in conception and execution -- it's hard to come up with any definitive list. For example, Blade Runner is arguably one of the best features commenting upon the human condition and its inevitable interaction with artificial intelligence, but how do you square up having it on a list alongside, say, 1953's The War Of The Worlds? Thematically, they're predicated on wildly different storytelling philosophies, and that's why I've always thought a series of lists and/or categories exploring specific subgenres of the broader discipline might be a better way to go. Yes, yes, yes, they're clearly both Science Fiction, but because they vary in so many elements I don't think it's fair to consider them part of the same 'list.'
In ways, Franklin J. Schaffner's Planet Of The Apes (1968) suffers the same fate in my mind. While being Science Fiction (and/or Fantasy), it has a lot to say about such topics as alternate history, human evolution, and dystopia that I have trouble putting it -- in a general sense -- alongside something like 2001: A Space Odyssey (released the same year) or even Silent Running (1972). Though they may somehow possess a similar aesthetic common to films of their days, they just travel in so many different directions that each deserves to be considered alongside features whose themes are synonymous or -- maybe a better term -- synchronous. Again, I only say this because I strive to protect the narrative complexity overall, instead of lumping this and that and the other into bullet points that feel disjointed.
What can I say? I tend to complicate things in my own humble manner.
Also, I do remember -- not all that long back -- getting into a kerfuffle with folks online about which incarnation of the Apes franchise was superior. (Mind you, I didn't enter into the debate trying to prove any position, per se, and I was only trying to point out that they were ignoring the fact that the original Apes movies are vastly different from one another thematically. Each film has a different mindset from what came before, whereas the modern trilogy all kinda/sorta followed in one expansive narrative arc, building upon each other in a different manner.) Frankly, these two halves of the same franchise don't quite mesh nor resemble the other all that well, so I (as you might guess) thought it was an unfair match-up. It all boiled down to the fact that these young Turks really weren't all that impressed with the 1960's/1970's films because -- cough cough -- they lacked CGI ... so I let them be.
Still, I wanted to pen a few words of reflection on the original's 55th anniversary because it's definitely one of the seminal films of my youth. I can still remember curling up on the living room floor to watch this thing when it aired on television. (I was way too young to see this one theatrically, being only two years old on its release.) As you can probably imagine, it was those damn dirty apes that I found so captivating -- and I still do -- and it remains one of those titles I'll argue 'til my dying day should be 'Essential' viewing for anyone interested in Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror projects. It was groundbreaking storytelling. It was vivid on every conceivable level. And, yes, it had an ending that M. Night Shyamalan is likely jealous over.
For those unaware, Rod Serling -- of The Twilight Zone and Night Gallery fame -- crafted the script with that massive reveal based on the Pierre Boulle novel. The feature starred Charlton Heston, Roddy McDowall, Kim Hunter, Maurice Evans, and Linda Harrison. Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
"An astronaut crew crash-lands on a planet where highly intelligent non-human ape species are dominant and humans are enslaved."
Honestly, I get asked all the time about Science Fiction and Fantasy films by folks who want to know what are 'the best' of the best, and I've consistently pushed back, trying to explain that -- because SciFi and Fantasy are so, so, so broad in conception and execution -- it's hard to come up with any definitive list. For example, Blade Runner is arguably one of the best features commenting upon the human condition and its inevitable interaction with artificial intelligence, but how do you square up having it on a list alongside, say, 1953's The War Of The Worlds? Thematically, they're predicated on wildly different storytelling philosophies, and that's why I've always thought a series of lists and/or categories exploring specific subgenres of the broader discipline might be a better way to go. Yes, yes, yes, they're clearly both Science Fiction, but because they vary in so many elements I don't think it's fair to consider them part of the same 'list.'
In ways, Franklin J. Schaffner's Planet Of The Apes (1968) suffers the same fate in my mind. While being Science Fiction (and/or Fantasy), it has a lot to say about such topics as alternate history, human evolution, and dystopia that I have trouble putting it -- in a general sense -- alongside something like 2001: A Space Odyssey (released the same year) or even Silent Running (1972). Though they may somehow possess a similar aesthetic common to films of their days, they just travel in so many different directions that each deserves to be considered alongside features whose themes are synonymous or -- maybe a better term -- synchronous. Again, I only say this because I strive to protect the narrative complexity overall, instead of lumping this and that and the other into bullet points that feel disjointed.
What can I say? I tend to complicate things in my own humble manner.
Also, I do remember -- not all that long back -- getting into a kerfuffle with folks online about which incarnation of the Apes franchise was superior. (Mind you, I didn't enter into the debate trying to prove any position, per se, and I was only trying to point out that they were ignoring the fact that the original Apes movies are vastly different from one another thematically. Each film has a different mindset from what came before, whereas the modern trilogy all kinda/sorta followed in one expansive narrative arc, building upon each other in a different manner.) Frankly, these two halves of the same franchise don't quite mesh nor resemble the other all that well, so I (as you might guess) thought it was an unfair match-up. It all boiled down to the fact that these young Turks really weren't all that impressed with the 1960's/1970's films because -- cough cough -- they lacked CGI ... so I let them be.
Still, I wanted to pen a few words of reflection on the original's 55th anniversary because it's definitely one of the seminal films of my youth. I can still remember curling up on the living room floor to watch this thing when it aired on television. (I was way too young to see this one theatrically, being only two years old on its release.) As you can probably imagine, it was those damn dirty apes that I found so captivating -- and I still do -- and it remains one of those titles I'll argue 'til my dying day should be 'Essential' viewing for anyone interested in Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror projects. It was groundbreaking storytelling. It was vivid on every conceivable level. And, yes, it had an ending that M. Night Shyamalan is likely jealous over.
For those unaware, Rod Serling -- of The Twilight Zone and Night Gallery fame -- crafted the script with that massive reveal based on the Pierre Boulle novel. The feature starred Charlton Heston, Roddy McDowall, Kim Hunter, Maurice Evans, and Linda Harrison. Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
"An astronaut crew crash-lands on a planet where highly intelligent non-human ape species are dominant and humans are enslaved."
To the film's detriment, I will say that its opening doesn't quite hold up today, and I suspect that's largely owed to the way it was delivered.
As Mission Commander George Taylor, Charlton Heston sits in the command chair of his capsule while the other astronauts are in some kind of cryogenic hibernation (or thereabouts). He's waxing on in the computer log, talking about the overall plight of man out loud (mostly for the benefit of the audience). And while he's doing this? Why, he's enjoying what I believe might be a great big ol' cigar! Here is Heston, delivering this highbrow poetry about man's place in the universe ... while dragging on a smoldering carcass of tobacco.
I'm not anti-tobacco. That's hardly my point.
It's just that knowing what we know about oxygen in sealed spaces and an open flame? This bit honestly plays out like bad comedy by today's standards.
I don't fault the film. It's just one of those sequences that doesn't translate well.
But on the 55th anniversary of such a highwater mark in SciFi film history?
I say "smoke 'em if you got 'em!"
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
As Mission Commander George Taylor, Charlton Heston sits in the command chair of his capsule while the other astronauts are in some kind of cryogenic hibernation (or thereabouts). He's waxing on in the computer log, talking about the overall plight of man out loud (mostly for the benefit of the audience). And while he's doing this? Why, he's enjoying what I believe might be a great big ol' cigar! Here is Heston, delivering this highbrow poetry about man's place in the universe ... while dragging on a smoldering carcass of tobacco.
I'm not anti-tobacco. That's hardly my point.
It's just that knowing what we know about oxygen in sealed spaces and an open flame? This bit honestly plays out like bad comedy by today's standards.
I don't fault the film. It's just one of those sequences that doesn't translate well.
But on the 55th anniversary of such a highwater mark in SciFi film history?
I say "smoke 'em if you got 'em!"
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Believe it or not, kids, I was one of the folks who had the good fortune to see Hangar 18 when it was released originally theatrically. Come to think of it, I think I saw it twice. Hell, I may’ve even watched it three times on the big screen. SciFi and Fantasy was hard to come by in my little one-stoplight-town, so I had a tendency to watch them again and again and again in my youth. Plus, it was my kind of story: soft science fiction all set against the backdrop of a government conspiracy.
While the picture opened with the qualifier that it was all based on facts, I had done my share of reading from UFO literature of the day (another pastime from a well-spent childhood), so I was well aware that what the producers served up instead was very far from an actual accounting of Earth’s first devastating encounter with forces beyond our world (tip: the shuttle program wouldn’t put its first orbiter into space for about one year yet, but here it was featured prominently in their story). Instead, I knew full well what they were doing was picking elements from the broader flying saucer history and combining them into a story meant to loosely inform as well as mildly educate the audience to the burgeoning mystery surrounding both the unidentified aircraft question and Zachariah Sitchin’s scholarship into the dawn of man.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary 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 paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
The launch of a new satellite from aboard the American Space Shuttle goes awry when the projectile accidentally plows into an alien Unidentified Flying Object suddenly perched off the spacecraft’s bow. Before you know it, two astronauts will be fingered as the guilty culprit as the U.S. government closes its ranks around the truth, and they’ll find themselves on the run from sinister agents seeking to silence them for good!
What Hangar 18 does accomplish, it actually does very well: it presents a dynamic story about the conspiracy to silence regular folks and even other government officials about the subject of UFOs. In doing so, the story traffics in so many elements associated to the saucer question, including secret crash retrievals, authoritarian thuggery, the Men in Black, and clandestine military installations. The short skinny here is that if you are in any way a fan of what The X-Files did on television in the 1990’s, then you could do far worse than spend 90 minutes with this early 80’s gem. Flawed as it is, the film still hits a lot of similar notes.
And, folks, it was the early 80’s … so don’t look for these special effects to hold a candle to what producers were doing on television two or even a single decade later. They’re charming, at best, and understandably dated, at worst. I kinda/sorta have a fondness for what pictures of this type were doing at this day and age – having sat through so very many of them at the time – and they still work just fine for the purposes of this story today. In fact, I’d argue that the UFO internal sets were designed quite spiffy given the rather obvious limitations of their budget.
As for the ending?
Well, clearly that wasn’t based on any known facts (as the prologue and epilogues suggest). Given the fact that most governments of the world continue to deny any involvement in the investigation of UFOs or even UFO-related subjects, it’s pretty clear that at no time have representatives of the United States come forward and confessed they have a working alien spacecraft in their possession. So far as I know (I do follow fringe news fairly regularly decades later), our officials are still pretty much committed to denying it.
Unless I miss my guess (I’ve not been able to confirm this), I tend to wonder whether or not Hangar 18 began life as a made-for-TV movie that simply grew to the point that the studio decided to give it a theatrical release. I say this because there are a handful of actors in the film who had already built a relatively successful following in TV properties; plus there are more than a few passing similarities to ideas (fonts and props) that I’ve seen used in other TV productions. So I throw that out more as a curiosity than anything else.
Recommended.
Far from perfect, Hangar 18 is still a worthwhile way to kill 90 minutes. While the drama is a bit light, the story still hits a lot of solid beats; and its conspiratorial spine definitely holds up very well for those who gravitate toward that sort of thing. Sure, it’s obviously a product of its time, but – so far as this UFO nut is concerned – it’s still a story worth telling.
-- EZ
While the picture opened with the qualifier that it was all based on facts, I had done my share of reading from UFO literature of the day (another pastime from a well-spent childhood), so I was well aware that what the producers served up instead was very far from an actual accounting of Earth’s first devastating encounter with forces beyond our world (tip: the shuttle program wouldn’t put its first orbiter into space for about one year yet, but here it was featured prominently in their story). Instead, I knew full well what they were doing was picking elements from the broader flying saucer history and combining them into a story meant to loosely inform as well as mildly educate the audience to the burgeoning mystery surrounding both the unidentified aircraft question and Zachariah Sitchin’s scholarship into the dawn of man.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary 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 paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
The launch of a new satellite from aboard the American Space Shuttle goes awry when the projectile accidentally plows into an alien Unidentified Flying Object suddenly perched off the spacecraft’s bow. Before you know it, two astronauts will be fingered as the guilty culprit as the U.S. government closes its ranks around the truth, and they’ll find themselves on the run from sinister agents seeking to silence them for good!
What Hangar 18 does accomplish, it actually does very well: it presents a dynamic story about the conspiracy to silence regular folks and even other government officials about the subject of UFOs. In doing so, the story traffics in so many elements associated to the saucer question, including secret crash retrievals, authoritarian thuggery, the Men in Black, and clandestine military installations. The short skinny here is that if you are in any way a fan of what The X-Files did on television in the 1990’s, then you could do far worse than spend 90 minutes with this early 80’s gem. Flawed as it is, the film still hits a lot of similar notes.
And, folks, it was the early 80’s … so don’t look for these special effects to hold a candle to what producers were doing on television two or even a single decade later. They’re charming, at best, and understandably dated, at worst. I kinda/sorta have a fondness for what pictures of this type were doing at this day and age – having sat through so very many of them at the time – and they still work just fine for the purposes of this story today. In fact, I’d argue that the UFO internal sets were designed quite spiffy given the rather obvious limitations of their budget.
As for the ending?
Well, clearly that wasn’t based on any known facts (as the prologue and epilogues suggest). Given the fact that most governments of the world continue to deny any involvement in the investigation of UFOs or even UFO-related subjects, it’s pretty clear that at no time have representatives of the United States come forward and confessed they have a working alien spacecraft in their possession. So far as I know (I do follow fringe news fairly regularly decades later), our officials are still pretty much committed to denying it.
Unless I miss my guess (I’ve not been able to confirm this), I tend to wonder whether or not Hangar 18 began life as a made-for-TV movie that simply grew to the point that the studio decided to give it a theatrical release. I say this because there are a handful of actors in the film who had already built a relatively successful following in TV properties; plus there are more than a few passing similarities to ideas (fonts and props) that I’ve seen used in other TV productions. So I throw that out more as a curiosity than anything else.
Recommended.
Far from perfect, Hangar 18 is still a worthwhile way to kill 90 minutes. While the drama is a bit light, the story still hits a lot of solid beats; and its conspiratorial spine definitely holds up very well for those who gravitate toward that sort of thing. Sure, it’s obviously a product of its time, but – so far as this UFO nut is concerned – it’s still a story worth telling.
-- EZ
- Published on
A few years back, I had the good fortune of hearing actor Fred Williamson speak at a convention.
Granted, he wasn’t one of what I’d call a ‘mainstage’ guest for the event. He was part of a panel of guest players who had paid visits in their time to the world of the original Star Trek; but thankfully these actors and actresses are given free reign to discuss practically any and all chapters of their professional careers. Having heard the man speak once or twice in television interviews, I was looking forward to it, and – even though only provided a few minutes of speaking time – ‘the Hammer’ (as he’s affectionately known) definitely delivered.
To his credit, Williamson reached a point in his career wherein he only pursued projects that met his three requirements. First, he never lost a fight. Don’t think he wouldn’t take a few hits here and there because that was far from the truth. Clearly, he loved to ‘mix it up’ on screen, but he never lost those mix-ups. Second, no matter the circumstances, he never allowed his characters to die on film. Williamson was a survivor, and he insisted on taking roles that furthered this desire. Lastly – and probably his favorite – he only took parts wherein – if he wanted – he could get the girl. Is there anything wrong with that? I don’t think so.
Ultimately, 1973’s That Man Bolt gave ‘the Hammer’ all that he could’ve ever wanted in a silver screen outing, and – dare I mention – it was nearly a franchise. (Don’t worry: I’ll get into that in some detail below.) A kinda/sorta international man of mystery, Jefferson Bolt was a professional courier who took the jobs too dangerous for others and too risky for those with the usual moral hangups. Independently wealthy and trained to kill, he wasn’t above setting aside some quiet time with the ladies, of which Bolt has quite a few. When trouble called, you wanted a man like Bolt answering, and Williamson – as expected – did the role justice in only the way a box office star could.
It's a damn dirty shame we didn’t see more of That Man Bolt. A damn dirty shame, indeed.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the kind of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“To take a briefcase from Hong Kong to Mexico City, via Los Angeles, is it necessary to call on that man – Bolt? With the number of dangerous spies and gangsters who are after that briefcase, maybe Jefferson Bolt is not enough.”
Granted, he wasn’t one of what I’d call a ‘mainstage’ guest for the event. He was part of a panel of guest players who had paid visits in their time to the world of the original Star Trek; but thankfully these actors and actresses are given free reign to discuss practically any and all chapters of their professional careers. Having heard the man speak once or twice in television interviews, I was looking forward to it, and – even though only provided a few minutes of speaking time – ‘the Hammer’ (as he’s affectionately known) definitely delivered.
To his credit, Williamson reached a point in his career wherein he only pursued projects that met his three requirements. First, he never lost a fight. Don’t think he wouldn’t take a few hits here and there because that was far from the truth. Clearly, he loved to ‘mix it up’ on screen, but he never lost those mix-ups. Second, no matter the circumstances, he never allowed his characters to die on film. Williamson was a survivor, and he insisted on taking roles that furthered this desire. Lastly – and probably his favorite – he only took parts wherein – if he wanted – he could get the girl. Is there anything wrong with that? I don’t think so.
Ultimately, 1973’s That Man Bolt gave ‘the Hammer’ all that he could’ve ever wanted in a silver screen outing, and – dare I mention – it was nearly a franchise. (Don’t worry: I’ll get into that in some detail below.) A kinda/sorta international man of mystery, Jefferson Bolt was a professional courier who took the jobs too dangerous for others and too risky for those with the usual moral hangups. Independently wealthy and trained to kill, he wasn’t above setting aside some quiet time with the ladies, of which Bolt has quite a few. When trouble called, you wanted a man like Bolt answering, and Williamson – as expected – did the role justice in only the way a box office star could.
It's a damn dirty shame we didn’t see more of That Man Bolt. A damn dirty shame, indeed.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the kind of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“To take a briefcase from Hong Kong to Mexico City, via Los Angeles, is it necessary to call on that man – Bolt? With the number of dangerous spies and gangsters who are after that briefcase, maybe Jefferson Bolt is not enough.”
Alas, Bolt – as portrayed here by action star Fred Williamson – was not enough to launch a bold, new cinematic franchise as Universal Pictures allegedly intended to do with the film, but this is no fault of the actor or its cast and crew. Sadly, it would seem that Bolt suffered a fatal blow inflicted by our shared cultural history … and I’ll get to that in just a moment.
In the meantime, directors Henry Levin and David Lowell Rich did a respectable job delivering a mostly respectable action picture, though I’d argue that the script from Charles Eric Johnson and Ranald MacDougall never quite clearly enough spelled out all of the necessary particulars. It’s clear that Bolt is both a ‘man of action’ and a ‘man of the world,’ but the various service organizations he apparently crosses paths with could’ve used a wealth more explanation here. Granted, the spy services are known to overlap a bit, especially when just cooperation is required on the international stage; only the script comes up short in defining just whose national interests are effectively being served, and that does the narrative no favors in the second half.
Still, too very much of the film feels more like a ‘big idea’ instead of a ‘great script,’ and the ambiguity of just who works for whom hampers any forward progress that Williamson’s machismo can assemble. Meant to be a kinda/sorta 007 clone, the big difference between those two characters is that – while Bond serves Great Britain faithfully if even to a fault – Bolt likes to make his own way in the world. He’s much more anti-hero than hero, and the last scene with our heavy hitter strolling into the sunset with a briefcase of cash proves that – when the chips are down – Bolt’s not above taking the money and running. Is that a bad choice? Well, no, not as designed here. It just limits where future adventures could’ve taken the courier unless he went to work for someone else instead of paying his own way on the silver screen.
It goes without saying that Bolt surrounds himself with the kind of supporting players audiences expect from a Bond-like environment. There are snippy Brits. There are cunning foreigners. There are deadly assassins. There are many lovely ladies. There’s even a gadget or two thrown in for good measure. So – as formulaic outings go – Bolt’s movers and shakers certainly had an idea of how to put their hero on the primrose path … so it’s unfortunate that this ended up being the only film to explore this possible universe.
Functionally, Bolt proceeds very much like a picture meant to craft an all-new action franchise for the star; and – in the interview provided on the Kino Lorber release – Williamson admits that was the intention of the producers. (He mentions the possibility of three films contractually, though he never spells out perfectly that these were going to be Bolt sequels. It is, still, very strongly implied that this was the case.) However, the film had the misfortunate of finding life (and an audience) largely smack-dab in the middle of Hollywood’s much-maligned Blaxploitation Era, despite incorporating vastly different storytelling tropes and thematic sensibilities than releases plagued with racial undertones. Instead of continuing with the planned follow-ups and risking their industry reputation, Universal Pictures bought out Williamson’s contract and shelved the deal.
In the meantime, directors Henry Levin and David Lowell Rich did a respectable job delivering a mostly respectable action picture, though I’d argue that the script from Charles Eric Johnson and Ranald MacDougall never quite clearly enough spelled out all of the necessary particulars. It’s clear that Bolt is both a ‘man of action’ and a ‘man of the world,’ but the various service organizations he apparently crosses paths with could’ve used a wealth more explanation here. Granted, the spy services are known to overlap a bit, especially when just cooperation is required on the international stage; only the script comes up short in defining just whose national interests are effectively being served, and that does the narrative no favors in the second half.
Still, too very much of the film feels more like a ‘big idea’ instead of a ‘great script,’ and the ambiguity of just who works for whom hampers any forward progress that Williamson’s machismo can assemble. Meant to be a kinda/sorta 007 clone, the big difference between those two characters is that – while Bond serves Great Britain faithfully if even to a fault – Bolt likes to make his own way in the world. He’s much more anti-hero than hero, and the last scene with our heavy hitter strolling into the sunset with a briefcase of cash proves that – when the chips are down – Bolt’s not above taking the money and running. Is that a bad choice? Well, no, not as designed here. It just limits where future adventures could’ve taken the courier unless he went to work for someone else instead of paying his own way on the silver screen.
It goes without saying that Bolt surrounds himself with the kind of supporting players audiences expect from a Bond-like environment. There are snippy Brits. There are cunning foreigners. There are deadly assassins. There are many lovely ladies. There’s even a gadget or two thrown in for good measure. So – as formulaic outings go – Bolt’s movers and shakers certainly had an idea of how to put their hero on the primrose path … so it’s unfortunate that this ended up being the only film to explore this possible universe.
Functionally, Bolt proceeds very much like a picture meant to craft an all-new action franchise for the star; and – in the interview provided on the Kino Lorber release – Williamson admits that was the intention of the producers. (He mentions the possibility of three films contractually, though he never spells out perfectly that these were going to be Bolt sequels. It is, still, very strongly implied that this was the case.) However, the film had the misfortunate of finding life (and an audience) largely smack-dab in the middle of Hollywood’s much-maligned Blaxploitation Era, despite incorporating vastly different storytelling tropes and thematic sensibilities than releases plagued with racial undertones. Instead of continuing with the planned follow-ups and risking their industry reputation, Universal Pictures bought out Williamson’s contract and shelved the deal.
Without getting into the weeds regarding the termination of a possible franchise, I will say that’s sad. Bolt in many ways felt like a blue-collar James Bond much like the Die Hard films did with Bruce Willis, and this first flick seemed like the kind of cornerstone around which audiences might’ve been encouraged to once again ‘cheer for the hero’ like the Westerns of the 40’s and 50’s had established. Granted, it may not have had universal appeal, nor might it have evolving into the kind of juggernaut studios like to even reboot from time-to-time; but it would have been nice culturally for viewers to have watched it continue and make up their own minds on the matter.
Also, I’d be remiss in my duties as a Social Media Influencer if I failed to mention that the film does contain at least two sequences wherein some decidedly inappropriate (i.e. racist) language was used. (There may’ve been more, but I’m only citing the two that I specifically caught.) These derogative racial terms were somewhat common to features dated from a forgotten era; while I’m perfectly capable of keeping that in mind when watching older releases getting new life in the marketplace, I do realize that not all folks are … so consider yourself properly warned.
That Man Bolt (1973) was produced by Universal Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights-and-sounds of this release were, generally, quite good; there are a few sequences a bit inferior, but I’m guessing that they attribute back to the source used. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, that’s a bit disappointing. There is a plethora of trailers for some associated home video releases, but otherwise the disc boasts only a fifteen-minute interview with star Williamson. It’s nice, yes, but it’s a bit superficial, too. Meh.
Recommended.
About the best thing that can honestly be said about That Man Bolt is that it works reasonably well as a kinda/sorta ‘origins’ picture. (Allegedly, there were plans for more, but none materialized for some very specific reasons discussed above.) It’s a good ‘jumping on’ point for what could’ve been a mid-level entry of the thriller pictures subgenre, and Williamson does an affable enough job doing what Williamson has always done: kick butt, take names, kiss ladies, and never dies. In some ways, it feels a bit like a bloated television attempt, but that might be owed in part to the fact that it had two different directors, giving it occasionally two different feels, if that makes sense.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of That Man Bolt (1973) 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
Also, I’d be remiss in my duties as a Social Media Influencer if I failed to mention that the film does contain at least two sequences wherein some decidedly inappropriate (i.e. racist) language was used. (There may’ve been more, but I’m only citing the two that I specifically caught.) These derogative racial terms were somewhat common to features dated from a forgotten era; while I’m perfectly capable of keeping that in mind when watching older releases getting new life in the marketplace, I do realize that not all folks are … so consider yourself properly warned.
That Man Bolt (1973) was produced by Universal Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good folks at Kino Lorber. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights-and-sounds of this release were, generally, quite good; there are a few sequences a bit inferior, but I’m guessing that they attribute back to the source used. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, that’s a bit disappointing. There is a plethora of trailers for some associated home video releases, but otherwise the disc boasts only a fifteen-minute interview with star Williamson. It’s nice, yes, but it’s a bit superficial, too. Meh.
Recommended.
About the best thing that can honestly be said about That Man Bolt is that it works reasonably well as a kinda/sorta ‘origins’ picture. (Allegedly, there were plans for more, but none materialized for some very specific reasons discussed above.) It’s a good ‘jumping on’ point for what could’ve been a mid-level entry of the thriller pictures subgenre, and Williamson does an affable enough job doing what Williamson has always done: kick butt, take names, kiss ladies, and never dies. In some ways, it feels a bit like a bloated television attempt, but that might be owed in part to the fact that it had two different directors, giving it occasionally two different feels, if that makes sense.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of That Man Bolt (1973) 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
"Brother man, this situation is rapidly becoming insalubrious... meaning: We're about to stomp a mudhole in your ass!"
-- Lt. Jackson (as played by Ji-Tu Cumbuka)
-- Lt. Jackson (as played by Ji-Tu Cumbuka)
For those of you who missed it -- and, considering the age of the average SciFiHistory.Net reader these days, a great many of you did -- the era of the 1970's was renowned in part for a theatrical trend called Blacksploitation (aka Blaxploitation). Google defines this -- rather appropriately -- as an ethnic subgenre of the traditional exploitation feature focusing on black people caught up within blackcentric films. While it's widely considered now to have been a largely inappropriate trend within cinema, I have read some commentary suggesting that -- despite the narrative weakness of these pictures -- the phenomenon did give a handful of actors and actresses the opportunity to break through the usual studio safeguards and begin to develop a wider presence in the industry. But, yes, a great many bad pictures came out as a consequence of Blaxploitation, so in many respects it's probably a trend best left to history.
Film academics suggest that the true Blaxploitation efforts had pretty much died out by the mid-1970's. (Some of what I've seen online asserts that, by 1975, these pictures had lost any strength and/or clout at the box office.) Still, a few projects -- like Dr. Black, Mr. Hyde (occasionally cited as Dr. Black And Mr. Hyde) -- didn't see the light of day until 1976, so it might be best to see this as something released on the tail end of the dying movement. Given its timing -- and given the fact that the trend had already produced features like Blacula (1972), Blackenstein (1973), and Scream Blacula Scream (1973) -- I think it's still safe to assume that such an obvious reference to Robert Louis Stevenson's Dr. Jekyll And Mr. Hyde (which endured many theatrical and television incarnations up to this point) was meant to follow those same footsteps.
Interestingly enough, the film's IMDB.com page gives absolutely no credit to the Stevenson work as serving as inspiration for Dr. Black, as the script's attribution is assigned solely to Larry LeBron as screenwriter with Lawrence Woolner crafting its central ideas. While this film is LeBron's sole contribution to film, Woolner's biography shows him chiefly as a producer with a solid handful of genre entries to his name. Dr. Black was directed by William Crain, a name already established in the Blaxploitation effort as having brought the aforementioned Blacula to life on the silver screen. The film starred Bernie Casey, Rosalind Cash, Marie O'Henry, Ji-Tu Cumbuka, and Milt Kogan.
Here's the plot summary as provided by the good people at IMDB.com:
"An African-American scientist develops a formula to regenerate dying liver cells, but it has the unfortunate after-effect of turning him into an albino vampire with a mania for killing prostitutes. A tough police lieutenant investigating the murders discovers the existence of the dual-personality killer, and determines to bring him in."
Film academics suggest that the true Blaxploitation efforts had pretty much died out by the mid-1970's. (Some of what I've seen online asserts that, by 1975, these pictures had lost any strength and/or clout at the box office.) Still, a few projects -- like Dr. Black, Mr. Hyde (occasionally cited as Dr. Black And Mr. Hyde) -- didn't see the light of day until 1976, so it might be best to see this as something released on the tail end of the dying movement. Given its timing -- and given the fact that the trend had already produced features like Blacula (1972), Blackenstein (1973), and Scream Blacula Scream (1973) -- I think it's still safe to assume that such an obvious reference to Robert Louis Stevenson's Dr. Jekyll And Mr. Hyde (which endured many theatrical and television incarnations up to this point) was meant to follow those same footsteps.
Interestingly enough, the film's IMDB.com page gives absolutely no credit to the Stevenson work as serving as inspiration for Dr. Black, as the script's attribution is assigned solely to Larry LeBron as screenwriter with Lawrence Woolner crafting its central ideas. While this film is LeBron's sole contribution to film, Woolner's biography shows him chiefly as a producer with a solid handful of genre entries to his name. Dr. Black was directed by William Crain, a name already established in the Blaxploitation effort as having brought the aforementioned Blacula to life on the silver screen. The film starred Bernie Casey, Rosalind Cash, Marie O'Henry, Ji-Tu Cumbuka, and Milt Kogan.
Here's the plot summary as provided by the good people at IMDB.com:
"An African-American scientist develops a formula to regenerate dying liver cells, but it has the unfortunate after-effect of turning him into an albino vampire with a mania for killing prostitutes. A tough police lieutenant investigating the murders discovers the existence of the dual-personality killer, and determines to bring him in."
Otherwise, I'm kinda/sorta scanned the Information Superhighway this morning, and I don't see an awful lot written about the film. Of course, there are academic citations linking to a wider discussion of Blaxploitation attached to the project; and there's a bit of interesting fodder here and there. It does show as presently available for free streaming for Amazon Prime members, and there even looks to be a 35th Anniversary DVD release that took place back in 2011 from VCI Video.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Two children wake up in the middle of the night to find their father is missing, and all the windows an doors in their home have vanished.”
Mark my words: there are a unique subgenre of motion pictures that, fundamentally, are made almost entirely with the film festival circuit in mind.
I know, I know, I know. I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “But how can a film like that ever hope to recover its budget?”
Well, that’s a question somewhat difficult to answer, but – functionally – it’s not, and they’re not.
Essentially, this type of flick is largely made to draw attention typically to the storyteller. His or her hopes is that they’ll become a bit of a sensation – a ‘hot property,’ as it were – and this positive buzz will lead to increased interest in his or her other projects. What scripts do they have in a drawer that might catch the eye? Is there a project germinating in their fertile minds that could be looking for financial participation? Would you – oh, all-new auteur – care to take a look at something our studio is percolating and might you be interested in hopping aboard as its director?
How do I know this?
Well, I’ve seen many lesser works and have used my own brain cells to come to the conclusion that the above is the only possible scenario.
So … if I’m wrong, sue me.
That said, Skinamarink feels like such an attempt to garner some attention on the part of writer/director Kyle Edward Ball. It’s a cheaply and (likely) quickly produced kinda/sorta ghost story that has a loose plot about children in search of their parent(s) who may or may not have vanished to only God knows where. There’s no real set of facts other than those – I’d dare anyone to create anything further from the collection of grainy shots, fractured dialogue, and sound effects all lumped together (much in the same way folks throw spaghetti at a wall just to see what sticks) – and clocking in at an astounding 100 minutes is a bit of a creative misfire. Had it rolled in around 60 minutes (or even vastly less), it may’ve had an opportunity to garner a bit more positive attention from the masses-at-large. But as is?
No way.
This is a festival flick. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Still, Skinamarink has some serviceable ideas in there. A few of the fleeting sequences aptly produce some authentic creepiness – no doubt as it was designed and captured – and those moments might even give one hope that before all is said and done this effort might ultimately be going somewhere other than it does rather predictably. Viewers watching closely might pick up a few odds and assortments here and there – some are obvious, some much less so – but, alas, these things don’t quite add up to anything singularly significant, leaving the entire journey without a big enough destination to make the sojourn worth it … so far as this reviewer is concerned.
Skinamarink (2022) was produced by ERO Picture Company, IFC Midnight, and Shudder. Distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated (as best as I can tell) via the good people at Shudder. As for the technical specifications? Erm … this is a bit difficult to discuss. I’m no trained video expert, but the sights and sounds contained herein are exceedingly difficult to watch for the total running time. It’s all dark, grainy, and occasionally out-of-focus. Much of it is shot from the most bizarre camera angles possible, and – yes – at times I’ve little to no idea of what I was supposed to ‘take away’ from a particular sequence. Suffice it to say? It’s definitely it’s own ‘cup of tea.’
Recommended only for those who (A) have at least 100 minutes of free time on their hand, (B) have the patience of a saint, and (C) truly want to experience something a bit oddball in pursuit of a minor scare.
Now, don’t get me wrong: it wasn’t as if I think Skinamarink is a total waste because that would be far from the truth. My issues with it is that it seemed like writer/director Ball may not have been able to discern a good idea from a bad one, so literally everything possible was thrown into the mix. The end result? Well, it’s a grainy pursuit of a central story, one involving children, missing parents, and the possibility of a bizarre dimension either infiltrating our own or vice versa. The fact that I’m leaving this behind with far more questions than answers just doesn’t bode well for me and the kind of scares I appreciate. This one is really only for those who want something entirely different. And I do mean different.
In the Interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Shudder provided me with a complimentary streaming link to Skinamarink (2022) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Two children wake up in the middle of the night to find their father is missing, and all the windows an doors in their home have vanished.”
Mark my words: there are a unique subgenre of motion pictures that, fundamentally, are made almost entirely with the film festival circuit in mind.
I know, I know, I know. I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “But how can a film like that ever hope to recover its budget?”
Well, that’s a question somewhat difficult to answer, but – functionally – it’s not, and they’re not.
Essentially, this type of flick is largely made to draw attention typically to the storyteller. His or her hopes is that they’ll become a bit of a sensation – a ‘hot property,’ as it were – and this positive buzz will lead to increased interest in his or her other projects. What scripts do they have in a drawer that might catch the eye? Is there a project germinating in their fertile minds that could be looking for financial participation? Would you – oh, all-new auteur – care to take a look at something our studio is percolating and might you be interested in hopping aboard as its director?
How do I know this?
Well, I’ve seen many lesser works and have used my own brain cells to come to the conclusion that the above is the only possible scenario.
So … if I’m wrong, sue me.
That said, Skinamarink feels like such an attempt to garner some attention on the part of writer/director Kyle Edward Ball. It’s a cheaply and (likely) quickly produced kinda/sorta ghost story that has a loose plot about children in search of their parent(s) who may or may not have vanished to only God knows where. There’s no real set of facts other than those – I’d dare anyone to create anything further from the collection of grainy shots, fractured dialogue, and sound effects all lumped together (much in the same way folks throw spaghetti at a wall just to see what sticks) – and clocking in at an astounding 100 minutes is a bit of a creative misfire. Had it rolled in around 60 minutes (or even vastly less), it may’ve had an opportunity to garner a bit more positive attention from the masses-at-large. But as is?
No way.
This is a festival flick. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Still, Skinamarink has some serviceable ideas in there. A few of the fleeting sequences aptly produce some authentic creepiness – no doubt as it was designed and captured – and those moments might even give one hope that before all is said and done this effort might ultimately be going somewhere other than it does rather predictably. Viewers watching closely might pick up a few odds and assortments here and there – some are obvious, some much less so – but, alas, these things don’t quite add up to anything singularly significant, leaving the entire journey without a big enough destination to make the sojourn worth it … so far as this reviewer is concerned.
Skinamarink (2022) was produced by ERO Picture Company, IFC Midnight, and Shudder. Distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated (as best as I can tell) via the good people at Shudder. As for the technical specifications? Erm … this is a bit difficult to discuss. I’m no trained video expert, but the sights and sounds contained herein are exceedingly difficult to watch for the total running time. It’s all dark, grainy, and occasionally out-of-focus. Much of it is shot from the most bizarre camera angles possible, and – yes – at times I’ve little to no idea of what I was supposed to ‘take away’ from a particular sequence. Suffice it to say? It’s definitely it’s own ‘cup of tea.’
Recommended only for those who (A) have at least 100 minutes of free time on their hand, (B) have the patience of a saint, and (C) truly want to experience something a bit oddball in pursuit of a minor scare.
Now, don’t get me wrong: it wasn’t as if I think Skinamarink is a total waste because that would be far from the truth. My issues with it is that it seemed like writer/director Ball may not have been able to discern a good idea from a bad one, so literally everything possible was thrown into the mix. The end result? Well, it’s a grainy pursuit of a central story, one involving children, missing parents, and the possibility of a bizarre dimension either infiltrating our own or vice versa. The fact that I’m leaving this behind with far more questions than answers just doesn’t bode well for me and the kind of scares I appreciate. This one is really only for those who want something entirely different. And I do mean different.
In the Interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Shudder provided me with a complimentary streaming link to Skinamarink (2022) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ