- Published on
Though his name may not have been as well known as the next, Science Fiction and Fantasy fans of a certain era very well might remember Austin Stoker for his work aboard 1973's Battle For The Planet Of The Apes (20th Century Fox), another chapter in the earlier incarnation of the wider Planet Of The Apes saga.
Interestingly enough, that wasn't his only foray into that world. The Apes called again -- this time in animated fashion -- and Stoker was brought aboard to voice the character of 'Jeff Allen' in Return To The Planet Of The Apes 13-episode run in 1975. (For those interested in that sort of thing, the show is available on DVD for home purchase.) I guess that shows that a single visit into genre might open the doors for more when and if the opportunity is right.
As for other rest stops in entertainment?
1976's Gemini Man is now billed on IMDB.com as a mini-series event, but -- back in the day -- I'm pretty certain this one was a regular series that only enjoyed a single season.
During the epic run of The Six Million Dollar Man in 1970's television, Stoker paid three visits (two as the same character, and one as someone completely different).
In 1979, he stopped by for a guest spot in CBS's fondly remembering The Incredible Hulk.
In 1982, the silver screen called, and Stoker was cast in the role of Dr. Ken Melrose for the cinematic Time Walker from Byzantine Productions.
There were a few other small characters the actor played, but I'll leave it at that.
Word reached my desk this morning that he's passed away. As I always say, none of us lasts forever, but thankfully these actors and actresses can live on with the work they've provided us as a momento of their time in this realm.
Prayers are extended to the friends, fans, and family of Austin Stoker.
-- EZ
Interestingly enough, that wasn't his only foray into that world. The Apes called again -- this time in animated fashion -- and Stoker was brought aboard to voice the character of 'Jeff Allen' in Return To The Planet Of The Apes 13-episode run in 1975. (For those interested in that sort of thing, the show is available on DVD for home purchase.) I guess that shows that a single visit into genre might open the doors for more when and if the opportunity is right.
As for other rest stops in entertainment?
1976's Gemini Man is now billed on IMDB.com as a mini-series event, but -- back in the day -- I'm pretty certain this one was a regular series that only enjoyed a single season.
During the epic run of The Six Million Dollar Man in 1970's television, Stoker paid three visits (two as the same character, and one as someone completely different).
In 1979, he stopped by for a guest spot in CBS's fondly remembering The Incredible Hulk.
In 1982, the silver screen called, and Stoker was cast in the role of Dr. Ken Melrose for the cinematic Time Walker from Byzantine Productions.
There were a few other small characters the actor played, but I'll leave it at that.
Word reached my desk this morning that he's passed away. As I always say, none of us lasts forever, but thankfully these actors and actresses can live on with the work they've provided us as a momento of their time in this realm.
Prayers are extended to the friends, fans, and family of Austin Stoker.
-- EZ
- Published on
Without uncorking a controversy that kinda/sorta divided the original Game Of Thrones audience, I think it’s still safe to conclude that – ahem – not everyone was all that thrilled with how that show wrapped things up in its grand finale.
In all honesty, I didn’t have as many qualms as most did; at least, I didn’t have nearly as many as did so many who stated their rabid disappointment so vociferously in any number of online outlets. My chief complaint with the last season and one-half was that it seemed like the events were unfolding at a rapidly increasing pace. Up until Season 7 and 8, the writers and showrunners seemed to exercise a great deal of caution in how events unfolded, a sentiment that was tossed out of the window (or wiped from existence via dragon’s breath); and everyone was able to get from one side of the kingdom to another when similar activity was vastly drawn out previously. It felt like they were rushing toward the finish line, sprinting for the big finish, and all nuance was lost.
I can’t say if this sentiment kinda/sorta tapped into what others were feeling. Most of what I recall was a huge measure of angst over a few characters and their ‘predictable’ fates … and all I could reply online was “Haven’t you been watching closely? Did you really think all of this was on track for some fairy tale climax?” Alas, nothing ends well for most folks in the Seven Kingdoms, and I thought the George RR Martin Fantasy/Drama certainly reinforced that reality in its closing moments.
Anyway …
As I’ve opined a bit in this space with respect to the sequel/prequel House Of The Dragon, this narrative has been a huge, huge, huge mess. It’s been filled with disposable characters, men and women of little import who show up for a scene just to be dead before the credits roll, and an incredible number of time jumps that – sadly – require a bit of tiring exposition to remind viewers exactly where, when, and why we are. Sigh. Episode 8 – “The Lord Of The Tides” – which aired last night began after clarifying it was – ahem – six years since we’d seen these folks last, and it unspooled as yet another tiresome affair of family shenanigans, royal duplicitousness, and a beheading thrown in just for good measure.
As a critic, I do try to avoid plot rehashes. I just don’t think they typically serve any analytical point – except, perhaps, to point out narrative deficiencies, so I’ll dispense with that, except to say that clearly Episode 8 was meant to serve as a counterpoint to the last time all of these men, women, and children were drawn together in the exceptional Episode 7. As I wrote in my review of “Driftmark” (found here), the writers had finally (gasp!) achieved a high point to an otherwise dismal inaugural season: the families were gathered in one big dramatic showdown that rather brilliantly set what I felt was finally “a plot” in motion. Alas, “The Lord Of The Tides” did little to strengthen what had come before, instead choosing to erase the blackboard and put all players (and the audience) back at square one.
Sigh.
In fact, the writers have truly run out of gifts at this point, as Episode 8 appears to have finally put the nail in the coffin of King Viserys Targaryen, a chief mover they’d been somewhat sadistically killing over the course of the whole affair. Actor Paddy Considine, you will be missed as – from a critical perspective – you’ve been plotted out as the only person in these Seven Kingdoms to be both understandable and relatable. Now that you’ve been freed of torture from the writers’ room, I’ve absolutely no idea where they might take this increasingly nebulous Fantasy, though I suspect they’ll rather quickly set their sights on someone else to punish. It would seem that’s all they have in their creative tanks.
While Considine has been dragged through costume, make-up, and CGI trickery, the significant other players – ahem – cast as contemporaries have remained ageless. In fact, actor Matt Smith – his Daemon Targaryen serves as the king’s brother – seems to be de-aging, regressing to the point of remaining eternally spotless while, at least, those around him might cast a fresh wrinkle or two. It’s almost become a bit of farce, and I’m wondering if – flash forward five more seasons – the audience might find out that his character was a ghost, a spectre, or a ghoul who secretly sold his soul to the Devil in exchange for boundless youth. While others have been recast out of necessity for the age difference, Smith remains gainfully employed.
Again, is this a charade?
Whatever premise what was ever given to ground this show in this particular television universe, I’m certainly hoping it gets shared with viewers fairly soon. Otherwise, I suspect even they might be wishing for a speedy death to this endless angry chattering.
-- EZ
In all honesty, I didn’t have as many qualms as most did; at least, I didn’t have nearly as many as did so many who stated their rabid disappointment so vociferously in any number of online outlets. My chief complaint with the last season and one-half was that it seemed like the events were unfolding at a rapidly increasing pace. Up until Season 7 and 8, the writers and showrunners seemed to exercise a great deal of caution in how events unfolded, a sentiment that was tossed out of the window (or wiped from existence via dragon’s breath); and everyone was able to get from one side of the kingdom to another when similar activity was vastly drawn out previously. It felt like they were rushing toward the finish line, sprinting for the big finish, and all nuance was lost.
I can’t say if this sentiment kinda/sorta tapped into what others were feeling. Most of what I recall was a huge measure of angst over a few characters and their ‘predictable’ fates … and all I could reply online was “Haven’t you been watching closely? Did you really think all of this was on track for some fairy tale climax?” Alas, nothing ends well for most folks in the Seven Kingdoms, and I thought the George RR Martin Fantasy/Drama certainly reinforced that reality in its closing moments.
Anyway …
As I’ve opined a bit in this space with respect to the sequel/prequel House Of The Dragon, this narrative has been a huge, huge, huge mess. It’s been filled with disposable characters, men and women of little import who show up for a scene just to be dead before the credits roll, and an incredible number of time jumps that – sadly – require a bit of tiring exposition to remind viewers exactly where, when, and why we are. Sigh. Episode 8 – “The Lord Of The Tides” – which aired last night began after clarifying it was – ahem – six years since we’d seen these folks last, and it unspooled as yet another tiresome affair of family shenanigans, royal duplicitousness, and a beheading thrown in just for good measure.
As a critic, I do try to avoid plot rehashes. I just don’t think they typically serve any analytical point – except, perhaps, to point out narrative deficiencies, so I’ll dispense with that, except to say that clearly Episode 8 was meant to serve as a counterpoint to the last time all of these men, women, and children were drawn together in the exceptional Episode 7. As I wrote in my review of “Driftmark” (found here), the writers had finally (gasp!) achieved a high point to an otherwise dismal inaugural season: the families were gathered in one big dramatic showdown that rather brilliantly set what I felt was finally “a plot” in motion. Alas, “The Lord Of The Tides” did little to strengthen what had come before, instead choosing to erase the blackboard and put all players (and the audience) back at square one.
Sigh.
In fact, the writers have truly run out of gifts at this point, as Episode 8 appears to have finally put the nail in the coffin of King Viserys Targaryen, a chief mover they’d been somewhat sadistically killing over the course of the whole affair. Actor Paddy Considine, you will be missed as – from a critical perspective – you’ve been plotted out as the only person in these Seven Kingdoms to be both understandable and relatable. Now that you’ve been freed of torture from the writers’ room, I’ve absolutely no idea where they might take this increasingly nebulous Fantasy, though I suspect they’ll rather quickly set their sights on someone else to punish. It would seem that’s all they have in their creative tanks.
While Considine has been dragged through costume, make-up, and CGI trickery, the significant other players – ahem – cast as contemporaries have remained ageless. In fact, actor Matt Smith – his Daemon Targaryen serves as the king’s brother – seems to be de-aging, regressing to the point of remaining eternally spotless while, at least, those around him might cast a fresh wrinkle or two. It’s almost become a bit of farce, and I’m wondering if – flash forward five more seasons – the audience might find out that his character was a ghost, a spectre, or a ghoul who secretly sold his soul to the Devil in exchange for boundless youth. While others have been recast out of necessity for the age difference, Smith remains gainfully employed.
Again, is this a charade?
Whatever premise what was ever given to ground this show in this particular television universe, I’m certainly hoping it gets shared with viewers fairly soon. Otherwise, I suspect even they might be wishing for a speedy death to this endless angry chattering.
-- 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 my last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com citation:
“Witches don’t die before leaving their legacy.”
Wow.
As plot summaries go, that one’s more than a bit ambiguous … but – as film viewings go – Two Witches capitalizes on much the same sentiment: it feels very much like a film-in-progress … very much like we haven’t quite seen the last of this cinematic universe … and that’s not always a good thing. It may not be bad, but for a first film? Well ...
The strength of building any screen franchise (SciFi, Fantasy, Horror, or beyond) is that the first entry has to give the audience enough to want more. It has to both introduce this world and all of its uniqueness as well as leave the door open for increasing world-building. It should both stand on its own two feet but also suggest that this may not be enough to fully mine the potential of that original nugget of inspiration. True, a sequel could take the intellectual property in a whole new direction, but that film must stick close to the foundation of what brought viewers in originally or it’ll soon be forgotten, yet one more release chucked away onto the pile of forgotten dreams.
Now, that’s a lot to handle, but director Pierre Tsigaridis and his screenwriting partners of Kristina Klebe (who also stars) and Maxime Rancon appear to be up to the task in places throughout Two Witches. There’s plenty of story in here – it’s structured like a loosely-connected anthology of sorts – but, alas, it doesn’t always make perfect narrative sense.
Most of its shortcomings are owed to Tsigaridis’ visual techniques.
He weaves these various vignettes to and fro with scenes suggesting some even darker alternatives than what may or may not actually have transpired. We’re shown scenes hinting of a character’s obvious villainy, but apparently the characters sitting next to or across from or standing beside don’t see these dead-glazed eyes, fractured facial expressions, and other stock Horror tropes. Sadly, the film is filled with these – along with what might be a Guinness World Record Book attempt at jump scares – and their overabundance had me wondering if all of it weren’t an attempt to mock the way Horror films do this stuff instead of trying to draw me in to this web.
All of this isn’t to say that I can’t appreciate the director’s talents because nothing could be further from the truth. Two Witches is visually captivating. It’s constructed in such a deliberate way that it’s easy to see that there’s meaning in them there stares … but what that meaning could ultimately be kinda/sorta escapes me in retrospect. Either a bit of restraint or some greater specificity is required to have this series of interconnected stories make perfect sense … and maybe ‘perfect sense’ isn’t what he wanted after all.
From the film’s IMDB.com citation:
“Witches don’t die before leaving their legacy.”
Wow.
As plot summaries go, that one’s more than a bit ambiguous … but – as film viewings go – Two Witches capitalizes on much the same sentiment: it feels very much like a film-in-progress … very much like we haven’t quite seen the last of this cinematic universe … and that’s not always a good thing. It may not be bad, but for a first film? Well ...
The strength of building any screen franchise (SciFi, Fantasy, Horror, or beyond) is that the first entry has to give the audience enough to want more. It has to both introduce this world and all of its uniqueness as well as leave the door open for increasing world-building. It should both stand on its own two feet but also suggest that this may not be enough to fully mine the potential of that original nugget of inspiration. True, a sequel could take the intellectual property in a whole new direction, but that film must stick close to the foundation of what brought viewers in originally or it’ll soon be forgotten, yet one more release chucked away onto the pile of forgotten dreams.
Now, that’s a lot to handle, but director Pierre Tsigaridis and his screenwriting partners of Kristina Klebe (who also stars) and Maxime Rancon appear to be up to the task in places throughout Two Witches. There’s plenty of story in here – it’s structured like a loosely-connected anthology of sorts – but, alas, it doesn’t always make perfect narrative sense.
Most of its shortcomings are owed to Tsigaridis’ visual techniques.
He weaves these various vignettes to and fro with scenes suggesting some even darker alternatives than what may or may not actually have transpired. We’re shown scenes hinting of a character’s obvious villainy, but apparently the characters sitting next to or across from or standing beside don’t see these dead-glazed eyes, fractured facial expressions, and other stock Horror tropes. Sadly, the film is filled with these – along with what might be a Guinness World Record Book attempt at jump scares – and their overabundance had me wondering if all of it weren’t an attempt to mock the way Horror films do this stuff instead of trying to draw me in to this web.
All of this isn’t to say that I can’t appreciate the director’s talents because nothing could be further from the truth. Two Witches is visually captivating. It’s constructed in such a deliberate way that it’s easy to see that there’s meaning in them there stares … but what that meaning could ultimately be kinda/sorta escapes me in retrospect. Either a bit of restraint or some greater specificity is required to have this series of interconnected stories make perfect sense … and maybe ‘perfect sense’ isn’t what he wanted after all.
As for the cast?
Hello, Rebekah Kennedy, it’s time for your spotlight!
The feature’s greatest asset is an actress who appears to truly be enjoying herself in the role as one of the film’s singular witches, and I’ve no doubt Kennedy may’ve had the time of her life. (If not, she certainly fooled me.) In her hands, ‘Masha’ eerily becomes the wallflower we’ve all known and wished would come out of her shell as well as a screen menace quite possibly capable of bringing about an end to all things good and pure. She masterfully takes control of every scene – even those where she’s a supporting player – giving her work the kind of irresistible appeal required of any screen villain. If there is life after Two Witches – meaning a sequel – I’d have to give the lion’s share of that credit to her work in this. Yes, it’s just that good.
Still, as a whole, Two Witches is imperfect.
Crafted in many ways to be an homage to classic Horror films (with an awful lot of Giallo influence), it sadly makes about as much sense as most of those flicks as well … which is to say that, at times, it doesn’t. Is this a dream? Is that a vision? What exactly just happened … or did it not, and we’re experiencing just the storyteller’s visual trickery? While the cast and crew may’ve felt that the sense of ambiguity helped build the requisite tension, this reviewer was more than a bit befuddled with what felt like storytelling hiccups inserted for their high ‘coolness’ factor. Well, it’s great that your film looks great, but what’s it all about?
Two Witches (2021) was produced by Incubo Films and The Rancom Company. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated via the exceptional Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I did experience some minor issues with the disc’s audio track. Whatever the mix is required a lot of sound on the subwoofer channel, so I had to dial that way down. (I did adjust to an alternate supplied audio track which was better, but the volume levels were just too high for my tastes.) Lastly, as for the special features? This is Arrow Films, after all, and they’ve once again set the bar high: there are two audio commentaries, two short making-of featurettes, a handful of cast and crew interviews, image galleries, and a bit more. (The promotional materials also suggest a collector’s booklet, but I was provided only a screening disc so I can’t comment to the efficacy of that.) All-in-all, it’s a pretty good collection for fans of this sort of thing.
Recommended.
I think Two Witches is filled with – and clearly made with – the best of intentions. Director Tsigaridis and his merry band of men and women have assembled a legitimate O.G. Horror film that – like many of its obvious influences – might very well stand the test of time, grow a faithful following, and become a tentpole franchise all of its very own. As a standalone piece of work – which is how I approach every project I watch – it doesn’t quite work as well as I think it could’ve, toying more with the audience’s expectations and occasionally leaving reality in doubt. That may’ve been the intent here – the supplemental materials all suggest a sequel is currently in production – and I’m wondering if a follow-up might inevitably be the superior film. Too much of this one felt like set-up for something greater … and grander … especially given the post-credits scenes. So – if nothing else – stay tuned.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the film folks at Arrow Video provided me with a complimentary screener copy of Two Witches (2021) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Hello, Rebekah Kennedy, it’s time for your spotlight!
The feature’s greatest asset is an actress who appears to truly be enjoying herself in the role as one of the film’s singular witches, and I’ve no doubt Kennedy may’ve had the time of her life. (If not, she certainly fooled me.) In her hands, ‘Masha’ eerily becomes the wallflower we’ve all known and wished would come out of her shell as well as a screen menace quite possibly capable of bringing about an end to all things good and pure. She masterfully takes control of every scene – even those where she’s a supporting player – giving her work the kind of irresistible appeal required of any screen villain. If there is life after Two Witches – meaning a sequel – I’d have to give the lion’s share of that credit to her work in this. Yes, it’s just that good.
Still, as a whole, Two Witches is imperfect.
Crafted in many ways to be an homage to classic Horror films (with an awful lot of Giallo influence), it sadly makes about as much sense as most of those flicks as well … which is to say that, at times, it doesn’t. Is this a dream? Is that a vision? What exactly just happened … or did it not, and we’re experiencing just the storyteller’s visual trickery? While the cast and crew may’ve felt that the sense of ambiguity helped build the requisite tension, this reviewer was more than a bit befuddled with what felt like storytelling hiccups inserted for their high ‘coolness’ factor. Well, it’s great that your film looks great, but what’s it all about?
Two Witches (2021) was produced by Incubo Films and The Rancom Company. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated via the exceptional Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I did experience some minor issues with the disc’s audio track. Whatever the mix is required a lot of sound on the subwoofer channel, so I had to dial that way down. (I did adjust to an alternate supplied audio track which was better, but the volume levels were just too high for my tastes.) Lastly, as for the special features? This is Arrow Films, after all, and they’ve once again set the bar high: there are two audio commentaries, two short making-of featurettes, a handful of cast and crew interviews, image galleries, and a bit more. (The promotional materials also suggest a collector’s booklet, but I was provided only a screening disc so I can’t comment to the efficacy of that.) All-in-all, it’s a pretty good collection for fans of this sort of thing.
Recommended.
I think Two Witches is filled with – and clearly made with – the best of intentions. Director Tsigaridis and his merry band of men and women have assembled a legitimate O.G. Horror film that – like many of its obvious influences – might very well stand the test of time, grow a faithful following, and become a tentpole franchise all of its very own. As a standalone piece of work – which is how I approach every project I watch – it doesn’t quite work as well as I think it could’ve, toying more with the audience’s expectations and occasionally leaving reality in doubt. That may’ve been the intent here – the supplemental materials all suggest a sequel is currently in production – and I’m wondering if a follow-up might inevitably be the superior film. Too much of this one felt like set-up for something greater … and grander … especially given the post-credits scenes. So – if nothing else – stay tuned.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the film folks at Arrow Video provided me with a complimentary screener copy of Two Witches (2021) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
Need I remind you folks that the 1980's produced a helluva lot of great films?
I know, I know, I know. 'Shut up, old man,' you're saying, and I'm responding with 'Get off my lawn, you punk!' But I stand by what I opened this little announcement with: the 1980's produced a lot of films that may not have aged quite as well as other decades -- especially when we're talking about the technological advances -- but their stories continue to resonate with folks who find them decades later. So why shouldn't these motion pictures get the necessary upgrade in order to keep them in pristine condition for today's discriminating viewers?
Well, it looks like the good people at Shout Factory would agree, as they're ponying up a restoration of 1984's somewhat visionary WarGames from genre director John Badham just in time for the holiday season. According to the information that I'll be copying and pasting below, this 4K Blu-ray will hit the streets on December 20th. If you haven't seen it -- or if your old copy has started to fade and you're inclined to pick up something fresher -- then mark your calendars as this one is as good today as it was back then.
Matthew Broderick. Ally Sheedy. And Barry Corbin offering to piss on a spark plug if it'll help things out.
Classic. Cinema.
Mark my words.
-- EZ
I know, I know, I know. 'Shut up, old man,' you're saying, and I'm responding with 'Get off my lawn, you punk!' But I stand by what I opened this little announcement with: the 1980's produced a lot of films that may not have aged quite as well as other decades -- especially when we're talking about the technological advances -- but their stories continue to resonate with folks who find them decades later. So why shouldn't these motion pictures get the necessary upgrade in order to keep them in pristine condition for today's discriminating viewers?
Well, it looks like the good people at Shout Factory would agree, as they're ponying up a restoration of 1984's somewhat visionary WarGames from genre director John Badham just in time for the holiday season. According to the information that I'll be copying and pasting below, this 4K Blu-ray will hit the streets on December 20th. If you haven't seen it -- or if your old copy has started to fade and you're inclined to pick up something fresher -- then mark your calendars as this one is as good today as it was back then.
Matthew Broderick. Ally Sheedy. And Barry Corbin offering to piss on a spark plug if it'll help things out.
Classic. Cinema.
Mark my words.
-- EZ
Matthew Broderick (Ferris Bueller's Day Off) and Ally Sheedy (The Breakfast Club) star in this compelling drama filled with action, suspense and high-tech adventures! Featuring superb performances by Dabney Coleman and Barry Corbin, WarGames is "brilliant ... funny ... and provocative" (New York) – a fast-paced cyber-thriller.
Computer hacker David Lightman (Broderick) can bypass the most advanced security systems, break the most intricate secret codes and master even the most difficult computer games. But when he unwittingly taps into the Defense Department's war computer, he initiates a confrontation of global proportions — World War III! Together with his girlfriend (Sheedy) and a wizardly computer genius (Tony Award winner John Wood), David must race against time to outwit his opponent ... and prevent a nuclear Armageddon.
Special Features and Technical Specs:
- BRAND NEW 4K RESTORATION OF THE FILM FROM THE ORIGINAL CAMERA NEGATIVE
- DOLBY VISION/HDR PRESENTATION OF THE FILM
- Audio Commentary By Director John Badham And Writers Lawrence Lasker And Walter F. Parkes
- "Loading WarGames"
- "Inside NORAD: Cold War Fortress"
- "Attack Of The Hackers"
- "Tic Tac Toe: A True Story"
- Theatrical Trailer
- Optional English SDH subtitles for the main feature
- Published on
sFor a good number of reasons (previously discussed in some detail here), I opted to forego penning reviews of Walt Disney’s Andor’s opening three episodes.
I won’t rehash those points – other than to say succinctly that the spirit never moved me – but, mind you, they may come up again superficially in this review of that program’s fourth installment, “Aldhani.” This can be the curse of considering serialized drama across its serialized airings: both weaknesses and strengths tend to repeat themselves in curious ways over the life of the show. Thus far, I haven’t been all that impressed with this specific chapter exploring that galaxy far, far away, but I’ve not been entirely disappointed, either.
The unencumbered growth of the Information Superhighway has – in most cases – been of tremendous benefit to Science Fiction and Fantasy fandom. It’s definitely brought folks together, giving license to a whole new generation of media wherein folks who like to think and write about franchises and film can do so even with the most meager readership (yours truly, included, but you are all loved, I assure you). Still, one of the biggest downsides is that citizen journalism has sadly given rise to a number of critics who do little more than spend the bulk of their wordcounts rehashing plots and subplots. Because I do try to dispense with that – I mean, you’re already watching the show as it is so you know what's going on – and this does tend to earn me my own fair share of detractors.
While I’ll never apologize for both seeing a work of art differently from the next reviewer, I will concede that I struggle more than most in analyzing serial formats because viewing a piece of an unfinished whole story is frustrating. Long-form storytelling has its merits, yes, but it can be a bit of a slog as it tends to “take its own sweet time” getting to the point … and that was the source of most of my nitpickings with Andor’s set-up. It isn’t as if this character was new – he had his introduction into canon with Rogue One (2016) – and yet creator Tony Gilroy felt it necessary to flesh out a backstory. I’ll just say I found an awful lot of it unnecessary – ultimately, it’s what is taking place in the here and now that requires emphasis – and it is what it is.
But …
I realize this may be a bit controversial (snicker snicker), but can I just say unequivocally that I find Cassian Andor an unrelentingly boring character?
I won’t rehash those points – other than to say succinctly that the spirit never moved me – but, mind you, they may come up again superficially in this review of that program’s fourth installment, “Aldhani.” This can be the curse of considering serialized drama across its serialized airings: both weaknesses and strengths tend to repeat themselves in curious ways over the life of the show. Thus far, I haven’t been all that impressed with this specific chapter exploring that galaxy far, far away, but I’ve not been entirely disappointed, either.
The unencumbered growth of the Information Superhighway has – in most cases – been of tremendous benefit to Science Fiction and Fantasy fandom. It’s definitely brought folks together, giving license to a whole new generation of media wherein folks who like to think and write about franchises and film can do so even with the most meager readership (yours truly, included, but you are all loved, I assure you). Still, one of the biggest downsides is that citizen journalism has sadly given rise to a number of critics who do little more than spend the bulk of their wordcounts rehashing plots and subplots. Because I do try to dispense with that – I mean, you’re already watching the show as it is so you know what's going on – and this does tend to earn me my own fair share of detractors.
While I’ll never apologize for both seeing a work of art differently from the next reviewer, I will concede that I struggle more than most in analyzing serial formats because viewing a piece of an unfinished whole story is frustrating. Long-form storytelling has its merits, yes, but it can be a bit of a slog as it tends to “take its own sweet time” getting to the point … and that was the source of most of my nitpickings with Andor’s set-up. It isn’t as if this character was new – he had his introduction into canon with Rogue One (2016) – and yet creator Tony Gilroy felt it necessary to flesh out a backstory. I’ll just say I found an awful lot of it unnecessary – ultimately, it’s what is taking place in the here and now that requires emphasis – and it is what it is.
But …
I realize this may be a bit controversial (snicker snicker), but can I just say unequivocally that I find Cassian Andor an unrelentingly boring character?
From some of what I’ve read online, methinks those smitten with him are granting the actor – not the character – an awful lot of goodwill. I’m seeing a lot of “oh, I liked him in this” or “wasn’t he great in that?” and what matters to me (again) is the here and now. Diego Luna might be the Robert De Niro of tomorrow, but as a character in the Star Wars universe I’m just not connecting with him on any level as of yet. I get his frustration. I understand his disillusionment with the Empire. I can appreciate what he’s (fictionally) been through to get where he is today. However, I just feel detached from him, so I’m having a hard time cheering for him.
As I said above, that can change as the serial adds more events and flavor to them. I am hoping that it does change. None of us feels excited to tune into something we lack a measure of ‘addiction’ for, and – since this is Star Wars – I’ll stick with it for the time being. Consider that my load to carry.
In the meantime, I am enjoying – as are so many – the layers of complexity added to the wider Empire.
As any galactic government would have, Gilroy’s show has introduced to a growing series of Imperial departments, committees, and (gasp!) private contractors. This is largely a fresh perspective on the task of oppressive governing that we haven’t quite seen before, at least not with the level of detail. Tarkin had some agency aboard the Death Star (in A New Hope) and the Prequel Trilogy introduced audiences to the expansive Senate, but Andor has opened the door to day-to-day wheelings and dealings the like of which looks a bit more like what is a sad staple of our own existence.
That’s an interesting if not risky proposition, no?
Viewers have mostly been drawn to the world of Star Wars for its pure escapism. The films and shows have captivated with tales of Jedi Knights, of planets with races never before seen, of starship captains and laser swords … and now – behold! Here is the Imperial Department Of Investigation (or whatever they’re calling it)! Tremble in fear of … the Imperial bureaucracy!
Yes, yes, yes: I’m making light of it, mostly because I do think it’s a bit funny. For those of us who were there back in this fantasy’s infancy circa 1977, I would’ve said that you were out of your mind if you ever suggested that one day we’d be looking at the inner workings of Palpatine’s Empire. I would’ve told you that no one would ever want to watch how government tackles the challenges of the day inside or outside the Outer Rim territories, and yet here we are. It is more than a bit humorous.
Still, I think this is probably what Gilroy, Kathleen Kennedy, and others involved in the show were hinting at when they so openly suggested that Andor was going to be more of an adult show in the Star Wars universe. Kids aren’t drawn to this kind of thing naturally – I’m not aware of any youngsters looking up into their parents’ eyes and saying, “When I grow up, I want to be a Third Level Administrator on some adjunct Intelligence committee” but maybe they’re out there. A mature mind can appreciate the complexities of this kind of yarn-spinning, so here’s hoping Andor can keep that up and keep it from getting b-o-r-i-n-g.
So … the Force may not anywhere in sight at this point … but I’ve got not such a bad feeling about this.
-- EZ
As I said above, that can change as the serial adds more events and flavor to them. I am hoping that it does change. None of us feels excited to tune into something we lack a measure of ‘addiction’ for, and – since this is Star Wars – I’ll stick with it for the time being. Consider that my load to carry.
In the meantime, I am enjoying – as are so many – the layers of complexity added to the wider Empire.
As any galactic government would have, Gilroy’s show has introduced to a growing series of Imperial departments, committees, and (gasp!) private contractors. This is largely a fresh perspective on the task of oppressive governing that we haven’t quite seen before, at least not with the level of detail. Tarkin had some agency aboard the Death Star (in A New Hope) and the Prequel Trilogy introduced audiences to the expansive Senate, but Andor has opened the door to day-to-day wheelings and dealings the like of which looks a bit more like what is a sad staple of our own existence.
That’s an interesting if not risky proposition, no?
Viewers have mostly been drawn to the world of Star Wars for its pure escapism. The films and shows have captivated with tales of Jedi Knights, of planets with races never before seen, of starship captains and laser swords … and now – behold! Here is the Imperial Department Of Investigation (or whatever they’re calling it)! Tremble in fear of … the Imperial bureaucracy!
Yes, yes, yes: I’m making light of it, mostly because I do think it’s a bit funny. For those of us who were there back in this fantasy’s infancy circa 1977, I would’ve said that you were out of your mind if you ever suggested that one day we’d be looking at the inner workings of Palpatine’s Empire. I would’ve told you that no one would ever want to watch how government tackles the challenges of the day inside or outside the Outer Rim territories, and yet here we are. It is more than a bit humorous.
Still, I think this is probably what Gilroy, Kathleen Kennedy, and others involved in the show were hinting at when they so openly suggested that Andor was going to be more of an adult show in the Star Wars universe. Kids aren’t drawn to this kind of thing naturally – I’m not aware of any youngsters looking up into their parents’ eyes and saying, “When I grow up, I want to be a Third Level Administrator on some adjunct Intelligence committee” but maybe they’re out there. A mature mind can appreciate the complexities of this kind of yarn-spinning, so here’s hoping Andor can keep that up and keep it from getting b-o-r-i-n-g.
So … the Force may not anywhere in sight at this point … but I’ve got not such a bad feeling about this.
-- EZ
- Published on
Funerals can bring out the very best in people … but as House Of The Dragon’s seventh fateful episode – “Driftmark” – shows us, they can also bring out the very worst.
The bloody worst.
In short, this is a good development for the Game Of Thrones’ prequel/spinoff as – if I’m being perfectly frank – it’s really been struggling to find any solid footing. There’s no singular villain – just an increasing numbers of ne’er-do-wells – and the episodes have been drawn together by the thinnest narrative threads (well, other than King Viserys’ horrifically declining health). Certainly, a program emerging from such a pedigree as Thrones should’ve hit the ground running – after some obligatory set-up – but I’ve found most of the action slim, its melodrama bloated (and occasionally unimportant), and its characters predictable. That's a bad trifecta, folks.
Now, “Driftmark” may or may not represent a new life for the show.
Frankly, it didn’t quite deliver anything fresh or new – this is still a medieval ‘Hatfields & McCoys’ at its core – but Ryan J. Condal and Kevin Lau’s script smartly brought the coffee to the point of percolating. Instead of staking out several lesser confrontations across its 60 minutes – apparently the preferred format as its been done in every episode up until this point – the screenwriters finally tried something new, drawing all the principle players together in a single setting, gave them one simple incident to reflect upon, and let them collectively seethe at one another.
Love the show, or hate the show ... but that was good drama delivered exceedingly well. It may not change hearts and minds, but it was still a high in an otherwise 'meh' prequel show so far as I'm concerned. I'm just being true to my words.
As I’ve often written, conflict is essential for any program, regardless of genre.
Dramas require it. Comedies roast it. Horrors demand it. And, yes, Science Fiction and Fantasy, too, benefit from one central intersection of their characters. Luke Skywalker bested Darth Vader, then Vader took control, only to have them come back at one another in a big showdown. The Cylons drew first blood, and the survivors of the Twelve Colonies ran away, but they still stopped and engaged the enemy when it was required. These conflicts help each and every story find its beating heart; while characters need to be designed in such a way as to interest those at home in the viewing audience, they don’t mean anything if they’re not colliding in some fruitful way with one another. Thankfully, “Driftmark” crystallized the issues … so now let’s hope they do take the show somewhere worth going.
Because there was no true plot progression, I kinda/sorta wonder if viewers might’ve been a bit put off by the episode.
This show has spent an inordinate amount of time both introducing, re-introducing, and refining its central cast. Supporting players show up for a scene or two and have been dispatched at an alarming pace, almost as if the writers’ room (or George RR Martin) have sought to capitalize on their ultimate disposability. While some may find that all well and good, I’ve always felt that a friendly face showing up for a single scene only to be vanquished was, arguably, a person of no real import … but Dragon seems to revel in such techniques. It’s a disservice to the audience, though, because we already know these folks are (damn near) all pure evil. I don’t think there’s a breath of fresh air in the group, and – sorry to say – I’m more than tired of that.
The stage is set. The sides are drawn in “Driftmark,” and you couldn’t ask for a clearer definition of just who stands with whom. We get it. These families hate one another. They loathe one another. Theirs are the worst reunions ever. Ok. Enough already. Let’s get down to brass tacks.
I will say that the other sequence that struck a positive chord was Prince Aemond Targaryen’s claiming of the ‘widowed’ dragon, Vhagar. Though I did find some of the special effects a bit underwhelming (as compared to what we were afforded in Thrones), the riding sequence was done well enough to convey some effective emotion of the young lord and his newfound pet. Again, this is the stuff of great collaboration between the cast and crew; and I’d be a fool to not acknowledge it. As far as the narrative goes … yeah, it may’ve cost the kid an eye, but life is an endless series of trade-offs, is it not? Even he said as much in the final estimation.
House Of The Dragon has been a rocky road.
If its creative powers that be are smart, they’ll capitalize on the goodwill this ‘throwing down of the gauntlet’ awards them and start doing something grand. One episode doesn’t make a great series, but I think we can finally dispense with the grandstanding and actually start telling a story now … am I right?
-- EZ
The bloody worst.
In short, this is a good development for the Game Of Thrones’ prequel/spinoff as – if I’m being perfectly frank – it’s really been struggling to find any solid footing. There’s no singular villain – just an increasing numbers of ne’er-do-wells – and the episodes have been drawn together by the thinnest narrative threads (well, other than King Viserys’ horrifically declining health). Certainly, a program emerging from such a pedigree as Thrones should’ve hit the ground running – after some obligatory set-up – but I’ve found most of the action slim, its melodrama bloated (and occasionally unimportant), and its characters predictable. That's a bad trifecta, folks.
Now, “Driftmark” may or may not represent a new life for the show.
Frankly, it didn’t quite deliver anything fresh or new – this is still a medieval ‘Hatfields & McCoys’ at its core – but Ryan J. Condal and Kevin Lau’s script smartly brought the coffee to the point of percolating. Instead of staking out several lesser confrontations across its 60 minutes – apparently the preferred format as its been done in every episode up until this point – the screenwriters finally tried something new, drawing all the principle players together in a single setting, gave them one simple incident to reflect upon, and let them collectively seethe at one another.
Love the show, or hate the show ... but that was good drama delivered exceedingly well. It may not change hearts and minds, but it was still a high in an otherwise 'meh' prequel show so far as I'm concerned. I'm just being true to my words.
As I’ve often written, conflict is essential for any program, regardless of genre.
Dramas require it. Comedies roast it. Horrors demand it. And, yes, Science Fiction and Fantasy, too, benefit from one central intersection of their characters. Luke Skywalker bested Darth Vader, then Vader took control, only to have them come back at one another in a big showdown. The Cylons drew first blood, and the survivors of the Twelve Colonies ran away, but they still stopped and engaged the enemy when it was required. These conflicts help each and every story find its beating heart; while characters need to be designed in such a way as to interest those at home in the viewing audience, they don’t mean anything if they’re not colliding in some fruitful way with one another. Thankfully, “Driftmark” crystallized the issues … so now let’s hope they do take the show somewhere worth going.
Because there was no true plot progression, I kinda/sorta wonder if viewers might’ve been a bit put off by the episode.
This show has spent an inordinate amount of time both introducing, re-introducing, and refining its central cast. Supporting players show up for a scene or two and have been dispatched at an alarming pace, almost as if the writers’ room (or George RR Martin) have sought to capitalize on their ultimate disposability. While some may find that all well and good, I’ve always felt that a friendly face showing up for a single scene only to be vanquished was, arguably, a person of no real import … but Dragon seems to revel in such techniques. It’s a disservice to the audience, though, because we already know these folks are (damn near) all pure evil. I don’t think there’s a breath of fresh air in the group, and – sorry to say – I’m more than tired of that.
The stage is set. The sides are drawn in “Driftmark,” and you couldn’t ask for a clearer definition of just who stands with whom. We get it. These families hate one another. They loathe one another. Theirs are the worst reunions ever. Ok. Enough already. Let’s get down to brass tacks.
I will say that the other sequence that struck a positive chord was Prince Aemond Targaryen’s claiming of the ‘widowed’ dragon, Vhagar. Though I did find some of the special effects a bit underwhelming (as compared to what we were afforded in Thrones), the riding sequence was done well enough to convey some effective emotion of the young lord and his newfound pet. Again, this is the stuff of great collaboration between the cast and crew; and I’d be a fool to not acknowledge it. As far as the narrative goes … yeah, it may’ve cost the kid an eye, but life is an endless series of trade-offs, is it not? Even he said as much in the final estimation.
House Of The Dragon has been a rocky road.
If its creative powers that be are smart, they’ll capitalize on the goodwill this ‘throwing down of the gauntlet’ awards them and start doing something grand. One episode doesn’t make a great series, but I think we can finally dispense with the grandstanding and actually start telling a story now … am I right?
-- EZ
- Published on
The very best fairy tales have always had a dark side to them.
Snow White found herself suffering from a cursed apple. Hansel and Gretel nearly find themselves cooked alive in an old witch’s kitchen. Little Red Riding Hood’s dear old grandmother gets eaten by the big bad wolf. And, frankly, these are only the generally accepted Disneyfied versions of the tales: any amount of reading from the original texts will show you that authors went even further in presenting an astoundingly grim depicture of juvenile crime and punishment for audiences.
Why?
Well, the safest answer – and probably the one that involves the least cultural introspection – is that these were yarns meant to treat the youngest among us a lesson. Behave or a dark turn is lurking around the corner. Do as you’re told, or the universe will come calling. Be an upright standing citizen, or you might find yourself cannon fodder. What can I say? The world is a demanding place.
Thankfully, the Estonian-language Fantasy/Comedy Kratt drops all of the pretense of delivering its warning exclusively at children and, instead, adopts a delightful wacky sensibility that can be enjoyed by audiences of all ages. Yes, yes, yes: it’s still admittedly more than a bit dark … but it’s all delivered with the kind of zaniness with a hint of magic that’s proven a hit almost every single time it’s tried.
Once upon a time, my friends … once upon a time …
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
Snow White found herself suffering from a cursed apple. Hansel and Gretel nearly find themselves cooked alive in an old witch’s kitchen. Little Red Riding Hood’s dear old grandmother gets eaten by the big bad wolf. And, frankly, these are only the generally accepted Disneyfied versions of the tales: any amount of reading from the original texts will show you that authors went even further in presenting an astoundingly grim depicture of juvenile crime and punishment for audiences.
Why?
Well, the safest answer – and probably the one that involves the least cultural introspection – is that these were yarns meant to treat the youngest among us a lesson. Behave or a dark turn is lurking around the corner. Do as you’re told, or the universe will come calling. Be an upright standing citizen, or you might find yourself cannon fodder. What can I say? The world is a demanding place.
Thankfully, the Estonian-language Fantasy/Comedy Kratt drops all of the pretense of delivering its warning exclusively at children and, instead, adopts a delightful wacky sensibility that can be enjoyed by audiences of all ages. Yes, yes, yes: it’s still admittedly more than a bit dark … but it’s all delivered with the kind of zaniness with a hint of magic that’s proven a hit almost every single time it’s tried.
Once upon a time, my friends … once upon a time …
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s publicity materials:
“Children are left at Grandma’s without smartphones. Real life seems boring, working feels hard. Luckily they find instructions for Kratt – a magical creature from old Estonian mythology who will do whatever its master says. All they have to do now is buy a soul from the Devil! Life stops being boring in a bloody way …”
Kids will be kids. Truer words have never been spoken.
The problem in our society – one that keeps pushing technological advances like iPhones and smartwatches onto consumer audiences growing younger and younger – is that we’ve taken away that spark of imagination required to be a kid and replaced it with video games or APPs that recommend a bit of fun. But when these two youngsters find themselves sequestered at grandma’s rural retreat without so much as a Gigabyte in sight, they’re forced to actually go out and make friends with a few of the locals. From a box at the local library, they happen across – lo and behold – a book of ancient spells; and – in the process of just having a blast – the foursome inadvertently set in motion a series of events involving grandma’s ‘reincarnation’ as a kratt, a demon that’ll do your bidding only until you run out of things to do … and then it’ll extract your soul in exchange!
Despite the hardness and harshness of that premise, Kratt is a delight.
In many ways, it’s the antithesis of Spielbergian adolescence: these kids out for a good time end up fathoming some very dark corners, but none of this is intended to be taken seriously. Like those old-fashioned fairy tales, writer/director Rasmus Merivoo’s cautionary yarn is meant to teach these kids a lesson, but it’s been crafted as a dark comedy, one that understandably twists everything normal on its head. Nothing – not the church, the parents, Facebook, town government, etc. – escapes the satirist’s keen eye here, and it’s a winning combination of snark and charm that should be universally appreciated by folks who love a smart comedy.
“Children are left at Grandma’s without smartphones. Real life seems boring, working feels hard. Luckily they find instructions for Kratt – a magical creature from old Estonian mythology who will do whatever its master says. All they have to do now is buy a soul from the Devil! Life stops being boring in a bloody way …”
Kids will be kids. Truer words have never been spoken.
The problem in our society – one that keeps pushing technological advances like iPhones and smartwatches onto consumer audiences growing younger and younger – is that we’ve taken away that spark of imagination required to be a kid and replaced it with video games or APPs that recommend a bit of fun. But when these two youngsters find themselves sequestered at grandma’s rural retreat without so much as a Gigabyte in sight, they’re forced to actually go out and make friends with a few of the locals. From a box at the local library, they happen across – lo and behold – a book of ancient spells; and – in the process of just having a blast – the foursome inadvertently set in motion a series of events involving grandma’s ‘reincarnation’ as a kratt, a demon that’ll do your bidding only until you run out of things to do … and then it’ll extract your soul in exchange!
Despite the hardness and harshness of that premise, Kratt is a delight.
In many ways, it’s the antithesis of Spielbergian adolescence: these kids out for a good time end up fathoming some very dark corners, but none of this is intended to be taken seriously. Like those old-fashioned fairy tales, writer/director Rasmus Merivoo’s cautionary yarn is meant to teach these kids a lesson, but it’s been crafted as a dark comedy, one that understandably twists everything normal on its head. Nothing – not the church, the parents, Facebook, town government, etc. – escapes the satirist’s keen eye here, and it’s a winning combination of snark and charm that should be universally appreciated by folks who love a smart comedy.
In fact, I’d only argue that – if anything – Kratt does begin to feel a bit long in the final reel. A few of its developments don’t have a payoff until very late in the picture; and by that point I wonder if some in the audience may’ve forgotten some of its set-up. Comedies are best when they’re focused on delivering their zingers at a consistent pace; Kratt – in examination – requires about a 30-minute set-up before the broader laughs truly set in. At one point, it even tries to incorporate the absent parents in their own kinda/sorta subplot; think what you may, but I didn’t see that plot turn as really being necessary to the film. It could’ve easily been excised, and I suspect no one would’ve missed it.
Still, the genius of any good yarn is that the picture continues to dole out some new surprises that are both relevant and organic to the world as postulated in any timeframe, and – on that level – Kratt shines.
Kratt (2020) was produced by Tallifornia. From what I’ve read, the film will be available digitally on demand beginning on October, 11, 2022, via a wide variety of streaming platforms including iTunes, Amazon, Google Play, and more.
Highly recommended.
Here’s the thing: cinematic fairy tales – especially dark, kid-centric ones – are not for everyone. There’s a fair amount of substance to Kratt (2020) that might strike folks the wrong way. However, all of it is meant to be deliciously over-the-top. None of it is to be taken with any degree of seriousness. If you approach it that way, then you’re bound to come away entertained. It might be a tad long – especially given the fact that it is little more than a fractured fairy tale … but it’s still fun. Sometimes, that’s the best one can hope for.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Red Water Entertainment provided me with complimentary screening access to Kratt (2020) 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
Still, the genius of any good yarn is that the picture continues to dole out some new surprises that are both relevant and organic to the world as postulated in any timeframe, and – on that level – Kratt shines.
Kratt (2020) was produced by Tallifornia. From what I’ve read, the film will be available digitally on demand beginning on October, 11, 2022, via a wide variety of streaming platforms including iTunes, Amazon, Google Play, and more.
Highly recommended.
Here’s the thing: cinematic fairy tales – especially dark, kid-centric ones – are not for everyone. There’s a fair amount of substance to Kratt (2020) that might strike folks the wrong way. However, all of it is meant to be deliciously over-the-top. None of it is to be taken with any degree of seriousness. If you approach it that way, then you’re bound to come away entertained. It might be a tad long – especially given the fact that it is little more than a fractured fairy tale … but it’s still fun. Sometimes, that’s the best one can hope for.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Red Water Entertainment provided me with complimentary screening access to Kratt (2020) 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
Rawhead Rex (1986) is one of those movies that – for some reason – countless people have recommended I see.
Essentially, I think this suggestion comes on the heels of the reality that most who know me well understand what undying respect I have for practical special effects. I’ve long maintained that CGI certainly has its time and its place, but – as a viewer – I tend to disconnect emotionally from watching anything that renders the bulk of its scares with digital trickery. Yes, yes, yes: I do realize that it’s very hard to craft a creature convincingly, but there’s still some old school charm to films that give it an honest sailor’s try. Because Rex is mostly a tall guy in some – ahem – interesting prosthetic makeover, these friends and readers have encouraged me to take it in.
Also, they’ve heaped an inordinate amount of praise on the script: penned by none other than a master of literary Horror Clive Barker – he of Hellraiser and Candyman fame, as well. Generally, I’m apt to warn them that I’ve read a bit from Barker – some of his short stories, mostly – and have found them a bit more confusing than I have scary. Still, his supporters assure me that Rex is a chiller crafted with a solid central monster along with an interesting cast of characters who go through the motions to fight back and survive against the odds.
Well …
I’ve finally done it. I picked up a bargain-priced Steelbook and given it a watch. Though part of me wishes I hadn’t (snicker snicker), I’ll concede that the film did hit a few of the right notes. But as a symphony? It’s more than a bit out of tune.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com citation:
“An ancient creature called Rawhead is awakened from its slumber near an Irish village and goes on a rampage killing anyone in sight.”
I’ve always thought it hard to stake out the middle ground when dealing with monsters.
When one tries to classify films exploring such beasts, the flicks are usually one of two types. Either the story deals with some unfortunate soul who finds himself (or herself) trapped by curse, serum, witchcraft, or some other means in the body of a marauding something, or the central behemoth has been, continues to be, and always will be a monster. Scripts that try to juggle both sides of the equation – or a mixture of the two, or maybe even a smattering of something a bit different – rarely find a common thread that successfully ties everything together. Viewers either appreciate being scared silly or somehow wooed to caring for the thing, so it's best to stick to what works and be done with it.
Essentially, I think this suggestion comes on the heels of the reality that most who know me well understand what undying respect I have for practical special effects. I’ve long maintained that CGI certainly has its time and its place, but – as a viewer – I tend to disconnect emotionally from watching anything that renders the bulk of its scares with digital trickery. Yes, yes, yes: I do realize that it’s very hard to craft a creature convincingly, but there’s still some old school charm to films that give it an honest sailor’s try. Because Rex is mostly a tall guy in some – ahem – interesting prosthetic makeover, these friends and readers have encouraged me to take it in.
Also, they’ve heaped an inordinate amount of praise on the script: penned by none other than a master of literary Horror Clive Barker – he of Hellraiser and Candyman fame, as well. Generally, I’m apt to warn them that I’ve read a bit from Barker – some of his short stories, mostly – and have found them a bit more confusing than I have scary. Still, his supporters assure me that Rex is a chiller crafted with a solid central monster along with an interesting cast of characters who go through the motions to fight back and survive against the odds.
Well …
I’ve finally done it. I picked up a bargain-priced Steelbook and given it a watch. Though part of me wishes I hadn’t (snicker snicker), I’ll concede that the film did hit a few of the right notes. But as a symphony? It’s more than a bit out of tune.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com citation:
“An ancient creature called Rawhead is awakened from its slumber near an Irish village and goes on a rampage killing anyone in sight.”
I’ve always thought it hard to stake out the middle ground when dealing with monsters.
When one tries to classify films exploring such beasts, the flicks are usually one of two types. Either the story deals with some unfortunate soul who finds himself (or herself) trapped by curse, serum, witchcraft, or some other means in the body of a marauding something, or the central behemoth has been, continues to be, and always will be a monster. Scripts that try to juggle both sides of the equation – or a mixture of the two, or maybe even a smattering of something a bit different – rarely find a common thread that successfully ties everything together. Viewers either appreciate being scared silly or somehow wooed to caring for the thing, so it's best to stick to what works and be done with it.
Rawhead Rex – for all intents and purposes – is the thing that understandably deserves to be feared. In no way, shape, or form does this thing need or want your sympathy. Though his origins might be shrouded in mystery with a few tantalizing bits suggested here and there, he’s as much puzzling as he is hungry, and Barker’s script – as directed by George Pavlou – largely sticks to that convention. No one’s looking to make friends with it, and anyone within arms reach of it will be lucky to get out alive.
But as monstrous things that go bump in the night travel, Rex is an awkward creation. He’s tall. His face is curiously animated, though giving off a fairly constant (if not plastic) expression. His eyes kinda/sorta twinkle with circling red lights. And he’s got a mouth full of teeth that stay surprisingly pearly white (or reasonably so) for something that dines semi-regularly on the flesh of men. It’s almost as if he’s a lumbering action figure permanently set to ‘kill,’ and his lack of facial expression is a bit of a set-back considering some of the practical effects work of the day.
Also, monsters work much better when they conduct their monstery business at night. Rex, by comparison, is comfortable with both daytime and nighttime office hours; and – sadly – he just isn’t all that scary when viewed under the light of day. He looks more like a costumed theme park character in the midday sun, and – because he’s so damn big – he can’t quite creep around in secret nor conceal himself from being seen the way other beasts conduct their respective hunts. While some might dub this a fresh take on traditional monster movies, that doesn’t mean that it’s all that great a creative decision. In fact, I spent a few moments wondering why the picture didn’t re-shoot these things in the dark, as it all comes off as clumsy more than anything else.
Lastly, there’s really just no story here.
Oh, that’s not to say Barker’s script didn’t make the effort as there are elements which tie together nicely. The problem I have with it is that the whole affair feels more artificial than it does an authentic tale. When newcomers to the city show up “just in time” for Rex to be unleashed and directly tied to the purpose of their visit (investigating the small town’s past history), that’s all a bit convenient, don’t you think? I understand that there was a need to have some discussions about what may’ve been some secret shenanigans from the old days that led to Rex’s creation, but I would think that any number of other potential plotlines could’ve both dealt with those requirements and justified a few new faces. As it is, the flick reeks of inexperience in more than a few places, and I’m honestly surprised anyone found this script up to snuff.
Some of my indifference to it could be tied to its cast of human players.
Everyone here is kinda/sorta thrown together by the premise – Howard Hallenbeck (played by David Dukes) is traveling with his family on a quest to explore local folklore – so the interactions have a predictability that never serves the unpredictable nature of monster encounters. Why, it’s almost like the residents got together and somehow released this thing just so that Hallenbeck could have his mission fulfilled (???), and that vibe cheapens the work when other choices could’ve enriched it. Also, it doesn’t help when the family man and his lovely wife Elaine (Kelly Piper) truly have no screen chemistry: I’ve seen better “pears” grow on trees.
Rawhead Rex (1986) was produced by Alpine Pictures, Green Man Productions, and Paradise Group. DVD distribution (for this particular release) was coordinated by the reliable Kino Lorber.
Mildly recommended.
Sigh. Having finally given in to the wishes of friends and readers, I’m sad to admit that Rawhead Rex (1986) was more imperfect than anywhere near otherwise. As practical effects go, it’s a step backwards – never a good thing unless you’re crafting satire or broad comedy – and the performances by its players don’t quite hit any interesting notes. When it leans toward more traditional Horror themes (i.e. monsters doing their deeds in the dark), it works well enough … but it’s still missing that fateful spark to truly raise the bar from a single viewing to any kind of repeat experience. Again … not awful … but definitely not anything all that special.
-- EZ
But as monstrous things that go bump in the night travel, Rex is an awkward creation. He’s tall. His face is curiously animated, though giving off a fairly constant (if not plastic) expression. His eyes kinda/sorta twinkle with circling red lights. And he’s got a mouth full of teeth that stay surprisingly pearly white (or reasonably so) for something that dines semi-regularly on the flesh of men. It’s almost as if he’s a lumbering action figure permanently set to ‘kill,’ and his lack of facial expression is a bit of a set-back considering some of the practical effects work of the day.
Also, monsters work much better when they conduct their monstery business at night. Rex, by comparison, is comfortable with both daytime and nighttime office hours; and – sadly – he just isn’t all that scary when viewed under the light of day. He looks more like a costumed theme park character in the midday sun, and – because he’s so damn big – he can’t quite creep around in secret nor conceal himself from being seen the way other beasts conduct their respective hunts. While some might dub this a fresh take on traditional monster movies, that doesn’t mean that it’s all that great a creative decision. In fact, I spent a few moments wondering why the picture didn’t re-shoot these things in the dark, as it all comes off as clumsy more than anything else.
Lastly, there’s really just no story here.
Oh, that’s not to say Barker’s script didn’t make the effort as there are elements which tie together nicely. The problem I have with it is that the whole affair feels more artificial than it does an authentic tale. When newcomers to the city show up “just in time” for Rex to be unleashed and directly tied to the purpose of their visit (investigating the small town’s past history), that’s all a bit convenient, don’t you think? I understand that there was a need to have some discussions about what may’ve been some secret shenanigans from the old days that led to Rex’s creation, but I would think that any number of other potential plotlines could’ve both dealt with those requirements and justified a few new faces. As it is, the flick reeks of inexperience in more than a few places, and I’m honestly surprised anyone found this script up to snuff.
Some of my indifference to it could be tied to its cast of human players.
Everyone here is kinda/sorta thrown together by the premise – Howard Hallenbeck (played by David Dukes) is traveling with his family on a quest to explore local folklore – so the interactions have a predictability that never serves the unpredictable nature of monster encounters. Why, it’s almost like the residents got together and somehow released this thing just so that Hallenbeck could have his mission fulfilled (???), and that vibe cheapens the work when other choices could’ve enriched it. Also, it doesn’t help when the family man and his lovely wife Elaine (Kelly Piper) truly have no screen chemistry: I’ve seen better “pears” grow on trees.
Rawhead Rex (1986) was produced by Alpine Pictures, Green Man Productions, and Paradise Group. DVD distribution (for this particular release) was coordinated by the reliable Kino Lorber.
Mildly recommended.
Sigh. Having finally given in to the wishes of friends and readers, I’m sad to admit that Rawhead Rex (1986) was more imperfect than anywhere near otherwise. As practical effects go, it’s a step backwards – never a good thing unless you’re crafting satire or broad comedy – and the performances by its players don’t quite hit any interesting notes. When it leans toward more traditional Horror themes (i.e. monsters doing their deeds in the dark), it works well enough … but it’s still missing that fateful spark to truly raise the bar from a single viewing to any kind of repeat experience. Again … not awful … but definitely not anything all that special.
-- EZ
- Published on
One of my chief complaints with the undying onslaught of zombie movies – as well as undead-flavored TV shows – is that no storyteller is legitimately doing anything decidedly different with the subgenre.
In this regard, I’m talking about the treatment of the actual zombie players, you see. Instead of presenting the usual carbon copy of the lumbering walkers vs. the rabid animal variety, what are they actually doing with the dead? Are we, the audience, going to spend yet another entry of running and hiding from them, or are these still living and breathing characters actually going to do anything with these sufferers? Simply following the typical and preferred Hollywood formula of ‘zombies on a train’ or ‘zombies on a plane’ isn’t quite enough for this old soul. Call me old-fashioned, if you will, but I do like to see something different every now and then.
For example, AMC’s recent The Walking Dead spin-off – Tales Of The Walking Dead – had what I felt was a single good entry in an otherwise tepid six-episode run: it’s fourth installment – titled “Amy / Dr. Everett” – spent some time with a scientist who was largely hell bent on treating these walkers like their own evolved species. He tracked and recorded their activities. He tried to make sense of their developing patterns. He suggested – like other of Earth’s indigenous creatures – they might be developed migration patterns and social class structures. Granted, Ahmadu Garba’s script never dealt all that deeply with the good doctor’s theorizing, but it was a somewhat refreshing change of pace for a franchise that’s largely left the dead for dead, treating them as little more than insects that needed extermination. After so much time in the limelight, perhaps even zombies grow dreary.
Truth be told, “Amy / Dr. Everett” harkened me back to the days of old when the original dead enthusiast himself – writer/director George A. Romero – started toying with many of the same notions about zombiehood in his Day Of The Dead (1985). Fans of the Romero library have in many cases kinda/sorta dismissed the film as one of the lesser entries in the auteur’s ongoing exploration of the afterlife; having streamed it recently on my DVR from an airing on the Turner Classic Movies channel, I’d beg to differ with its detractors. While imperfect, it still tried to inject its dead with a bit of life, and that’s never a bad thing.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com citation:
“As the world is overrun by zombies, a small group of scientists and military personnel dwelling in an underground bunker in Florida must determine whether they should educate, eliminate or escape the undead horde.”
In this regard, I’m talking about the treatment of the actual zombie players, you see. Instead of presenting the usual carbon copy of the lumbering walkers vs. the rabid animal variety, what are they actually doing with the dead? Are we, the audience, going to spend yet another entry of running and hiding from them, or are these still living and breathing characters actually going to do anything with these sufferers? Simply following the typical and preferred Hollywood formula of ‘zombies on a train’ or ‘zombies on a plane’ isn’t quite enough for this old soul. Call me old-fashioned, if you will, but I do like to see something different every now and then.
For example, AMC’s recent The Walking Dead spin-off – Tales Of The Walking Dead – had what I felt was a single good entry in an otherwise tepid six-episode run: it’s fourth installment – titled “Amy / Dr. Everett” – spent some time with a scientist who was largely hell bent on treating these walkers like their own evolved species. He tracked and recorded their activities. He tried to make sense of their developing patterns. He suggested – like other of Earth’s indigenous creatures – they might be developed migration patterns and social class structures. Granted, Ahmadu Garba’s script never dealt all that deeply with the good doctor’s theorizing, but it was a somewhat refreshing change of pace for a franchise that’s largely left the dead for dead, treating them as little more than insects that needed extermination. After so much time in the limelight, perhaps even zombies grow dreary.
Truth be told, “Amy / Dr. Everett” harkened me back to the days of old when the original dead enthusiast himself – writer/director George A. Romero – started toying with many of the same notions about zombiehood in his Day Of The Dead (1985). Fans of the Romero library have in many cases kinda/sorta dismissed the film as one of the lesser entries in the auteur’s ongoing exploration of the afterlife; having streamed it recently on my DVR from an airing on the Turner Classic Movies channel, I’d beg to differ with its detractors. While imperfect, it still tried to inject its dead with a bit of life, and that’s never a bad thing.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com citation:
“As the world is overrun by zombies, a small group of scientists and military personnel dwelling in an underground bunker in Florida must determine whether they should educate, eliminate or escape the undead horde.”
When faced with the end of the world as we know it, storytellers essentially position their characters in one of three modes. Either they’re on the run from the circumstances of our collective doom and gloom; or they’re focused on securing or hiding out at all costs from whatever brought about our demise; or (lastly) they’re best positioned to finally fight back, often times against all odds, in some attempt to set things right for themselves or future generations. Outside of these three prospective approaches, there’s very little wiggle room. When fight or flight have proven unprofitable, it’s time to rebuild. What that future may be might remain unclear, but either humanity is a wrap or we’ve starting over fresh.
I think, minimally, that’s precisely where Romero’s Day Of The Dead positions mankind best: in its closing scenes, our three surviving principal players are shown soaking up the sun on an expansive beach. As a group, they’ve opted to pack up their troubles and leave it all behind. The race of men has proven itself unreliable on the mainland, so they’re leaving them alone and opting to live out the remainder of their days in isolation. It isn’t exactly surrender, but it also isn’t quite beginning again anew. It’s more of a draw: a narrative ceasefire in the history of our planet. In the meantime, they’ll eat all the fish they can, get some great tans, and not worry so much about working on their cardio.
That being the case, I don’t feel the need to critique so much the human players of Day Of The Dead, other than an obligatory remark or two about the onscreen talent.
Actress Lori Cardille makes for a capable lead here: her portrayal of Sarah – the sometimes scientist, sometimes action hero – never quite rises to the level of fame granted other fictional heroines of her era (i.e. The Terminator’s Sarah Connor or Aliens’ Ellen Ripley). She’s certainly given a scene or two to demonstrate the toughness of her moral resolve, but Romero’s script never quite gives her any standout performance showing she can go toe-to-toe with the soldiers or the lumbering dead, making her a bit too incapable of defending herself physically when the chips are down. Who knows? Romero is the product of a different generation; although he stops short of making her a full-blown damsel in distress, I’ll agree with anyone who claims she could’ve used a bit more moxie here and there.
Actor Richard Liberty fills in the shoes of Dead’s resident mad scientist. Dr. Logan is of the chatty variety of masterminds, using what some might dub as snobbish, flowery speech not necessarily meant to insult his intellectual inferiors so much as it is to reinforce his mastery of science. Willing to even talk his zombies to death, Logan waxes on whenever given the chance, and Liberty fills out narrative space nicely when the script might otherwise experience a lull in the action. Thankfully, the actor never quite wallows in his Frankenstein-level conceit, always appearing authentically fascinated with even the smallest discovery. Again, I can understand why – as a character – he might wear thin with some in the audience; I’m simply saying I found him effective though perhaps a bit overused in the film’s 100-minute run time.
Lastly, Joseph Pilato gets good screen mileage out of Romero’s most stock character. As representing the evil of both authority and government, his Captain Rhodes grows increasingly distressed with both the circumstances of his assignment and the level of respect (or lack thereof) he gets from the scientists. Though his character arc is probably even predicted by the resident zombies, it’s still easy to see Pilato could chew the scenery with the best of them, barking orders at those under his command all while losing just enough grip on control to be a greater threat than he ever was safeguard. Yes, yes, and yes: we know he’s destined to be zombie meat before the credits roll … but the actor capably earned his place on the table instead of ‘at’ it.
Perhaps it’s the significant absence of zombie menace throughout Day Of The Dead that both irked and continues to irk fandom today, but I’d argue its Frankenstein story might’ve been one of its undiagnosed strengths.
I think, minimally, that’s precisely where Romero’s Day Of The Dead positions mankind best: in its closing scenes, our three surviving principal players are shown soaking up the sun on an expansive beach. As a group, they’ve opted to pack up their troubles and leave it all behind. The race of men has proven itself unreliable on the mainland, so they’re leaving them alone and opting to live out the remainder of their days in isolation. It isn’t exactly surrender, but it also isn’t quite beginning again anew. It’s more of a draw: a narrative ceasefire in the history of our planet. In the meantime, they’ll eat all the fish they can, get some great tans, and not worry so much about working on their cardio.
That being the case, I don’t feel the need to critique so much the human players of Day Of The Dead, other than an obligatory remark or two about the onscreen talent.
Actress Lori Cardille makes for a capable lead here: her portrayal of Sarah – the sometimes scientist, sometimes action hero – never quite rises to the level of fame granted other fictional heroines of her era (i.e. The Terminator’s Sarah Connor or Aliens’ Ellen Ripley). She’s certainly given a scene or two to demonstrate the toughness of her moral resolve, but Romero’s script never quite gives her any standout performance showing she can go toe-to-toe with the soldiers or the lumbering dead, making her a bit too incapable of defending herself physically when the chips are down. Who knows? Romero is the product of a different generation; although he stops short of making her a full-blown damsel in distress, I’ll agree with anyone who claims she could’ve used a bit more moxie here and there.
Actor Richard Liberty fills in the shoes of Dead’s resident mad scientist. Dr. Logan is of the chatty variety of masterminds, using what some might dub as snobbish, flowery speech not necessarily meant to insult his intellectual inferiors so much as it is to reinforce his mastery of science. Willing to even talk his zombies to death, Logan waxes on whenever given the chance, and Liberty fills out narrative space nicely when the script might otherwise experience a lull in the action. Thankfully, the actor never quite wallows in his Frankenstein-level conceit, always appearing authentically fascinated with even the smallest discovery. Again, I can understand why – as a character – he might wear thin with some in the audience; I’m simply saying I found him effective though perhaps a bit overused in the film’s 100-minute run time.
Lastly, Joseph Pilato gets good screen mileage out of Romero’s most stock character. As representing the evil of both authority and government, his Captain Rhodes grows increasingly distressed with both the circumstances of his assignment and the level of respect (or lack thereof) he gets from the scientists. Though his character arc is probably even predicted by the resident zombies, it’s still easy to see Pilato could chew the scenery with the best of them, barking orders at those under his command all while losing just enough grip on control to be a greater threat than he ever was safeguard. Yes, yes, and yes: we know he’s destined to be zombie meat before the credits roll … but the actor capably earned his place on the table instead of ‘at’ it.
Perhaps it’s the significant absence of zombie menace throughout Day Of The Dead that both irked and continues to irk fandom today, but I’d argue its Frankenstein story might’ve been one of its undiagnosed strengths.
Being the third film in any trilogy – especially one centered on the end of civilization – usually means that all elements will be tied up in a bow; and those expecting such a finale probably should get schooled in more zombie films. (Many of them – even the very best of them – end on sour notes. Sometimes, truth hurts. Sometimes, it bites.) So instead of drawing out that suspense, Romera opted to shine a bit of light on zombiehood: Logan has discovered that there’s still some level of consciousness at work in the corners of the undead’s brain, and he’s managed to bring a walker named ‘Bub’ back to a measure of sanity.
In the lab, Bub has shown small signs of recognition. Though he’s little more than a lab rat responding to stimuli, he’s still demonstrated some hidden understanding of telephones, razors, and books. He’s even somehow managed to calm the need for human flesh at least accepting it at the point of reward for good deeds, and it’s these meager accomplishments that fuel both Logan’s work and inevitable demise: like any closeted madman, he’s bound to resort to some very dark deeds in order to keep moving forward. Again, where this takes this Day might be a bit predictable, but I thought it handled quite nicely by all involved.
In fact, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that actor Sherman Howard gives a pretty interesting performance as Bub. Never did I sense when looking into his eyes that he wasn’t still a card-carrying member of the flesh-eating clan, but he still manages to create a measure of curiosity in his work. You’re never quite sure – when Bub’s reaching for an object – is he going to grasp it or is he instead going to finally turn on Dr. Logan and chomp on the man’s extended finger. It never looked like he would … but would he? It’s that delicious ambiguity (a curious phrase, considered he’s a zombie) that brought something special to this third act … and it’s something I’ve rarely seen matched since.
Granted, some may dismiss what I find refreshing as small potatoes, especially given fandom’s demand that Horror films shouldn’t be so (damn) cerebral. Still, I disagree. I’ve always found the exploration of ideas much more inviting – much more captivating – and I find myself going back time-and-time-again to flicks that make me think about an idea because I’m drawn into the experience. Those who prefer shock frights and jump scares are bound to dismiss Day Of The Dead as a lesser chapter, but what can I say? I guess I like more to chew on that just blood and brains.
Day Of The Dead (1985) was produced by United Film Distribution Company and Laurel Entertainment Inc.
Highly recommended.
Franchise entries are, perhaps, one of the hardest sells in all of filmdom. Fans of the original are expected for the antes to be upped while newcomers to the property might wonder what all of the fuss is about. Day Of The Dead tries to balance those liabilities by mining the middleground as much as it can; and the end result appears to have somewhat disenfranchised both sides of the potential audience. So sue me for enjoying its ‘Dr. Frankenstein’ angle a bit more than most, but I found it interesting and original in just the right balance. If anything, I’d argue it could’ve used a bit less predictability in a few key places … but, then again, those brains weren’t going to eat themselves.
-- EZ
In the lab, Bub has shown small signs of recognition. Though he’s little more than a lab rat responding to stimuli, he’s still demonstrated some hidden understanding of telephones, razors, and books. He’s even somehow managed to calm the need for human flesh at least accepting it at the point of reward for good deeds, and it’s these meager accomplishments that fuel both Logan’s work and inevitable demise: like any closeted madman, he’s bound to resort to some very dark deeds in order to keep moving forward. Again, where this takes this Day might be a bit predictable, but I thought it handled quite nicely by all involved.
In fact, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that actor Sherman Howard gives a pretty interesting performance as Bub. Never did I sense when looking into his eyes that he wasn’t still a card-carrying member of the flesh-eating clan, but he still manages to create a measure of curiosity in his work. You’re never quite sure – when Bub’s reaching for an object – is he going to grasp it or is he instead going to finally turn on Dr. Logan and chomp on the man’s extended finger. It never looked like he would … but would he? It’s that delicious ambiguity (a curious phrase, considered he’s a zombie) that brought something special to this third act … and it’s something I’ve rarely seen matched since.
Granted, some may dismiss what I find refreshing as small potatoes, especially given fandom’s demand that Horror films shouldn’t be so (damn) cerebral. Still, I disagree. I’ve always found the exploration of ideas much more inviting – much more captivating – and I find myself going back time-and-time-again to flicks that make me think about an idea because I’m drawn into the experience. Those who prefer shock frights and jump scares are bound to dismiss Day Of The Dead as a lesser chapter, but what can I say? I guess I like more to chew on that just blood and brains.
Day Of The Dead (1985) was produced by United Film Distribution Company and Laurel Entertainment Inc.
Highly recommended.
Franchise entries are, perhaps, one of the hardest sells in all of filmdom. Fans of the original are expected for the antes to be upped while newcomers to the property might wonder what all of the fuss is about. Day Of The Dead tries to balance those liabilities by mining the middleground as much as it can; and the end result appears to have somewhat disenfranchised both sides of the potential audience. So sue me for enjoying its ‘Dr. Frankenstein’ angle a bit more than most, but I found it interesting and original in just the right balance. If anything, I’d argue it could’ve used a bit less predictability in a few key places … but, then again, those brains weren’t going to eat themselves.
-- EZ
- Published on
For me, 1990’s incredible SciFi/Comedy Tremors remains one of the benchmarks of creatures emerging from beneath the ground to terrorize local residents.
Naturally, some of the magic is owed to a fabulous ensemble (Kevin Bacon, Fred Ward, Michael Gross, Finn Carter, Reba McEntire, etc.) as well as it is a winning script from S.S. Wilson, Brent Maddock, and director Ron Underwood. But the big win – as should be the case in any Horror feature – is that the effects team crafted a veritable screen monster capable of delivering the level of screen menace required to spin the yarn. Yes, it was a practical physical monstrosity – this was the days before CGI – so audiences were both gifted with its visual pursuits as well as imaging just what it could be doing as it lurked beneath the ground.
Indeed, viewers were obviously swept up with the tale of these subterranean ‘grabbers,’ and a franchise was born. To date, it’s produced an incredible handful of direct-to-DVD sequels as well as a short-lived television series. It would seem that life in the dirt ain’t so bad after all, and who knows when we’ll see yet one more installment in that saga that seems one without end.
Well, in 2022, another contender has risen up in an attempt to steal the dirty crown from Tremors: They Crawl Beneath features a markedly smaller (but no less hungry) beast – one apparently evolving from worms – and it’s set its sights on unearthing gold in home video receipts. Is it up to the task?
Let’s dig in …
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging:
“After an earthquake leaves Danny trapped and alone, his claustrophobic nightmare only gets worse when something truly horrifying emerges from the fissures in the ground, forcing him to engage in a brutal fight for his life – and his sanity.”
Naturally, some of the magic is owed to a fabulous ensemble (Kevin Bacon, Fred Ward, Michael Gross, Finn Carter, Reba McEntire, etc.) as well as it is a winning script from S.S. Wilson, Brent Maddock, and director Ron Underwood. But the big win – as should be the case in any Horror feature – is that the effects team crafted a veritable screen monster capable of delivering the level of screen menace required to spin the yarn. Yes, it was a practical physical monstrosity – this was the days before CGI – so audiences were both gifted with its visual pursuits as well as imaging just what it could be doing as it lurked beneath the ground.
Indeed, viewers were obviously swept up with the tale of these subterranean ‘grabbers,’ and a franchise was born. To date, it’s produced an incredible handful of direct-to-DVD sequels as well as a short-lived television series. It would seem that life in the dirt ain’t so bad after all, and who knows when we’ll see yet one more installment in that saga that seems one without end.
Well, in 2022, another contender has risen up in an attempt to steal the dirty crown from Tremors: They Crawl Beneath features a markedly smaller (but no less hungry) beast – one apparently evolving from worms – and it’s set its sights on unearthing gold in home video receipts. Is it up to the task?
Let’s dig in …
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging:
“After an earthquake leaves Danny trapped and alone, his claustrophobic nightmare only gets worse when something truly horrifying emerges from the fissures in the ground, forcing him to engage in a brutal fight for his life – and his sanity.”
Monster movies – even when they’re poorly made – still manage to eek out an audience, and that’s largely because audiences have always appreciated the vicarious aspect of them. None of us wish to be chased down by a man-eating anything, but we’ll happily watch it devour someone else. If that isn’t the testament to a depraved civilization, then I don’t know what is! Still, it’s precisely why I’ve always had a fondness for monster movies.
Despite some obvious weaknesses of a small budget, They Crawl Beneath both presents and sticks to its efficiency: it’s essentially one of those ‘locked room’ premises wherein our narrator – rookie cop-with-a-heart-of-gold Danny (Joseph Almani) – finds himself both trapped in his uncle’s garage and hunted by a series of predators emerging from the hole in the ground opened up by the same earthquake that locked him inside. It’s a race against time for survival – both physically and mentally – as he must somehow overcome the fallen car that’s trapped him on the floor as well as face the hallucinations resulting from the creature’s venom (he’s been bitten) racing through his veins.
How’s your day going?
Sometimes the greatest strength of any effort is that it knows what it wants and sticks true to achieving that goal. In that regard, Dale Fabrigar capably directs Tricia Aurand’s script, and neither were all that worried about developing these peoples, places, and things any greater than what was needed in this time and place. In fact, you could probably watch Beneath with a checklist and tick off every development as it goes; that’s how desperately all involved cling to familiarity here. Where they could’ve taken a serious narrative left turn – Danny’s increasing hallucinations causing him to question both his predicament as well as his family’s “secrets” – Fabrigar and all stick faithfully to the plan. Me? I think the diversions questioning one’s sanity might’ve made for a more compelling story.
Because I grew up when I did (the 1970’s), I have a lasting fondness for practical effects, and Beneath’s overgrown wormlike creatures are a delight. While their bodies could’ve used a bit more polish, their gaping teeth-filled maws – what matter most – are the stuff of nightmares. Fangs. Bug spit. Screeches. The whole nine yards. If they weren’t practical, they sure looked the part, and the time up in the limelight should be given the respect they’ve earned … or else they’ll bite it off anyway because that’s what screen monsters do. (Hat tip: there’s even the hint of a follow-up if this little film finds an audience, though I’m not sure that’s in the cards.)
As for its cast of players?
Well …
Despite some obvious weaknesses of a small budget, They Crawl Beneath both presents and sticks to its efficiency: it’s essentially one of those ‘locked room’ premises wherein our narrator – rookie cop-with-a-heart-of-gold Danny (Joseph Almani) – finds himself both trapped in his uncle’s garage and hunted by a series of predators emerging from the hole in the ground opened up by the same earthquake that locked him inside. It’s a race against time for survival – both physically and mentally – as he must somehow overcome the fallen car that’s trapped him on the floor as well as face the hallucinations resulting from the creature’s venom (he’s been bitten) racing through his veins.
How’s your day going?
Sometimes the greatest strength of any effort is that it knows what it wants and sticks true to achieving that goal. In that regard, Dale Fabrigar capably directs Tricia Aurand’s script, and neither were all that worried about developing these peoples, places, and things any greater than what was needed in this time and place. In fact, you could probably watch Beneath with a checklist and tick off every development as it goes; that’s how desperately all involved cling to familiarity here. Where they could’ve taken a serious narrative left turn – Danny’s increasing hallucinations causing him to question both his predicament as well as his family’s “secrets” – Fabrigar and all stick faithfully to the plan. Me? I think the diversions questioning one’s sanity might’ve made for a more compelling story.
Because I grew up when I did (the 1970’s), I have a lasting fondness for practical effects, and Beneath’s overgrown wormlike creatures are a delight. While their bodies could’ve used a bit more polish, their gaping teeth-filled maws – what matter most – are the stuff of nightmares. Fangs. Bug spit. Screeches. The whole nine yards. If they weren’t practical, they sure looked the part, and the time up in the limelight should be given the respect they’ve earned … or else they’ll bite it off anyway because that’s what screen monsters do. (Hat tip: there’s even the hint of a follow-up if this little film finds an audience, though I’m not sure that’s in the cards.)
As for its cast of players?
Well …
Shouldering the bulk of the effort, Joseph Almani does a very capable job when the script calls for a bit more edge. In some respects, it’s really not all that unusual for actors to hit the high notes – i.e. dealing with stress, making the most of the fear-inducing panic – and Almani does the same here. When he’s in dire straits, you feel for him, and he works well in elevating the palpable tension of his circumstance. Where I think he struggled (quite a bit) were with the quieter times. There’s no real passion between him and his disgruntled wife – their scenes play out like bad melodrama – and the moments between him and “Uncle Bill” are far too formulaic male-bonding stereotypes to be anything more. Better stewards can elevate inferior writing, but that doesn’t quite happen here.
In contrast, actress Karlee Eldridge seems almost gobsmackingly out of her element here, some of which could be owed to the fact that she’s a fairly stock creation. (Haven’t we seen enough estranged wives of cops, Hollywood? Can’t we try something different? Anything different? Anything at all?) Her delivery is almost robotic, and there’s a nebulousness to what she does for a living that doesn’t quite support her being in here other than the fact that’s how it was written. Her looks are entirely plastic – even after the apparent throws of bedroom passion, she’s Maybelline fresh – so the inherent weakness of “I’m just playing a character in a film” is obvious with each passing scene. I guess it’s nice that she showed up and looked good, but Beneath gives her absolutely zero nuance to work with. A wasted effort all around.
Screen veteran Michael Pare – honestly, a longtime favorite of mine – turns in a serviceable performance as the script’s “Uncle Bill.” Sadly, he’s dismissed from the bulk of the action – sidelined mostly by two key plot points I’ll not divulge for fear of spoiling it – and that’s a miss. When you have a name talent like him in the cast, I’d hope you’d put them to good use, even if it meant a rewrite to beef up his presence; and Pare – while convincing – gives a look that could’ve easily been filled by someone without his pedigree.
They Crawl Beneath (2022) (aka It Crawls Beneath) was produced by Suzanne DeLaurentiis Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable Well Go USA. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought much of the sights and sounds featured were pretty solid, though I’ll admit that a few sequences photographed in the dark could’ve used a bit more light. Also, the few CGI effects featured in the film are quite inferior, one laughably so. (I know, I know: it happens in the world of small budgets.) As for the special features? Meh. Outside of the theatrical trailer, there’s nothing to look at … and that’s always a disappointment so far as this critic is concerned.
Mildly Recommended.
It isn’t that They Crawl Beneath (2022) is a bad film. It’s just too routine. Too safe. Too reserved. It’s an entirely predictable affair that adheres faithfully closely to the safest possible narrative choices – even when trying to ramp up the claustrophobia or the whole affair – more comfortable in preserving the middle ground instead of truly doing anything new, different, or innovative. Had its script or actors been pushed into fertile territory, then who knows? It could’ve been something special, but – as is – it’s a tale that’s older than dirt. Still, I do love practical effects, so kudos to the O.G. presentation of things that go bump in the night.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Well Go USA provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of They Crawl Beneath (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
In contrast, actress Karlee Eldridge seems almost gobsmackingly out of her element here, some of which could be owed to the fact that she’s a fairly stock creation. (Haven’t we seen enough estranged wives of cops, Hollywood? Can’t we try something different? Anything different? Anything at all?) Her delivery is almost robotic, and there’s a nebulousness to what she does for a living that doesn’t quite support her being in here other than the fact that’s how it was written. Her looks are entirely plastic – even after the apparent throws of bedroom passion, she’s Maybelline fresh – so the inherent weakness of “I’m just playing a character in a film” is obvious with each passing scene. I guess it’s nice that she showed up and looked good, but Beneath gives her absolutely zero nuance to work with. A wasted effort all around.
Screen veteran Michael Pare – honestly, a longtime favorite of mine – turns in a serviceable performance as the script’s “Uncle Bill.” Sadly, he’s dismissed from the bulk of the action – sidelined mostly by two key plot points I’ll not divulge for fear of spoiling it – and that’s a miss. When you have a name talent like him in the cast, I’d hope you’d put them to good use, even if it meant a rewrite to beef up his presence; and Pare – while convincing – gives a look that could’ve easily been filled by someone without his pedigree.
They Crawl Beneath (2022) (aka It Crawls Beneath) was produced by Suzanne DeLaurentiis Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable Well Go USA. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I thought much of the sights and sounds featured were pretty solid, though I’ll admit that a few sequences photographed in the dark could’ve used a bit more light. Also, the few CGI effects featured in the film are quite inferior, one laughably so. (I know, I know: it happens in the world of small budgets.) As for the special features? Meh. Outside of the theatrical trailer, there’s nothing to look at … and that’s always a disappointment so far as this critic is concerned.
Mildly Recommended.
It isn’t that They Crawl Beneath (2022) is a bad film. It’s just too routine. Too safe. Too reserved. It’s an entirely predictable affair that adheres faithfully closely to the safest possible narrative choices – even when trying to ramp up the claustrophobia or the whole affair – more comfortable in preserving the middle ground instead of truly doing anything new, different, or innovative. Had its script or actors been pushed into fertile territory, then who knows? It could’ve been something special, but – as is – it’s a tale that’s older than dirt. Still, I do love practical effects, so kudos to the O.G. presentation of things that go bump in the night.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Well Go USA provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of They Crawl Beneath (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