- Published on
Regular readers to SciFiHistory.Net know that I will rarely – if ever – truly complain about a movie or an episode of anything. A particular story may not be to my liking, but I’ve no fervent desire to ‘trash’ anything, nor insist that it has nothing of merit to other viewers. My rating systems (99% of the time) ranges from Highest Recommendation Possible down to the paltry Not Really Recommended, which I give out after an awful lot of personal reflection. I just try to find something – some nugget of joy – to seize and hold on to in any project, and that usually helps me rise to the occasion both critically and professionally.
Erm …
That said, I really (really really) had a difficult time with “The Dead Man” but only for some very specific reasons.
As I said in my review of the Night Gallery telefilm (found here), that 3-part feature was a pretty solid set-up for a series to follow, though I found the installments dipping in quality from the start to the finish. Even though I had some quips and quarrels here and there with each chapter, I’d still argue that it was a stupendous (if only occasionally predictable) launch for a new incarnation of what Rod Serling did so well with The Twilight Zone … but – as always – buyer beware.
However, if you remove that telefilm from the equation and instead imagine “The Dead Man” as a first fully realized episode, then I’d not have a lot of faith in the longevity of any potential series. In fact, I wouldn’t be all that likely to tune in next week, as they say.
The screenplay shows adapted (presumably by Serling) from a story by Fritz Leiber, Jr., a name I recognize but cannot presently place (nor has any immediate research helped). A quick review of his profile on Wikipedia.org certainly suggests that the man was somewhat prolific – having penned stories in Fantasy, Horror, and Science Fiction – and he’s even attributed as being one of the ‘forefathers’ to swords and sorcery stories. But “The Dead Man” as presented feels very much like it could’ve damn near been lifted from the pages of any 1950’s or 1960’s era Horror-themed comic book. There were several popular imprints – Horror Comics, Eerie Comics, Tales From The Crypt, etc. – and I’ve read a handful of them in my spare time. While they were good and typically quick reads, they also are very dated to the period, meaning that they don’t lend themselves very well to modernization.
That’s exactly the rub with “The Dead Man.” Jeff Corey plays Dr. Miles Talmadge, a professional summoned to his collaborator’s home – Carl Betz as Dr. Max Redford – to witness what he’s kinda/sorta led to believe is a medical miracle. Once inside, he’s asked to examine what appears to be the body of John Michael Fearing (played by actor Michael Blodgett) and diagnose his cause of death or pronounced illness. However, as Talmadge achieves one diagnosis, there’s a sudden change to Fearing’s symptoms, leading him to deduce a different illness. All of this happens until Redford awakens Fearing from his somewhat sleeping state, and we learn that the young man is capable of changing his appearance simply by post hypnotic suggestion … oh, and a series of knocks done by Redford off-camera.
This presents a quandary about which the two physicians engage in a series of debates, making the plot points of this “Dead Man” all choreographed in dialogue instead of organic plot developments. We’re told the story, and we’re eventually led to understand that a fateful mistake – Redford’s own psychological shortcomings – cause Fearing’s accidental death … or do they? Before you know it, we’re off to another round of – ahem – conversations which suggest the good-looking young man might not be dead, at which point the drama goes full melodrama in a bid to see him unearthed from his crypt by the woman who loves him. As you can guess, she “raises” him from the dead with the proper post-hypnotic signal … and you can probably figure out what happens next.
Sigh.
Again, if storytellers have to literally tell me a story, then there’s far too much exposition for any of it to feel authentic. That’s the biggest stumbling block to “Dead Man:” not a bit of it escapes artificial construction, meaning that we’ll all feel better after this commercial break anyway … so what’s all the fuss about?
Erm …
That said, I really (really really) had a difficult time with “The Dead Man” but only for some very specific reasons.
As I said in my review of the Night Gallery telefilm (found here), that 3-part feature was a pretty solid set-up for a series to follow, though I found the installments dipping in quality from the start to the finish. Even though I had some quips and quarrels here and there with each chapter, I’d still argue that it was a stupendous (if only occasionally predictable) launch for a new incarnation of what Rod Serling did so well with The Twilight Zone … but – as always – buyer beware.
However, if you remove that telefilm from the equation and instead imagine “The Dead Man” as a first fully realized episode, then I’d not have a lot of faith in the longevity of any potential series. In fact, I wouldn’t be all that likely to tune in next week, as they say.
The screenplay shows adapted (presumably by Serling) from a story by Fritz Leiber, Jr., a name I recognize but cannot presently place (nor has any immediate research helped). A quick review of his profile on Wikipedia.org certainly suggests that the man was somewhat prolific – having penned stories in Fantasy, Horror, and Science Fiction – and he’s even attributed as being one of the ‘forefathers’ to swords and sorcery stories. But “The Dead Man” as presented feels very much like it could’ve damn near been lifted from the pages of any 1950’s or 1960’s era Horror-themed comic book. There were several popular imprints – Horror Comics, Eerie Comics, Tales From The Crypt, etc. – and I’ve read a handful of them in my spare time. While they were good and typically quick reads, they also are very dated to the period, meaning that they don’t lend themselves very well to modernization.
That’s exactly the rub with “The Dead Man.” Jeff Corey plays Dr. Miles Talmadge, a professional summoned to his collaborator’s home – Carl Betz as Dr. Max Redford – to witness what he’s kinda/sorta led to believe is a medical miracle. Once inside, he’s asked to examine what appears to be the body of John Michael Fearing (played by actor Michael Blodgett) and diagnose his cause of death or pronounced illness. However, as Talmadge achieves one diagnosis, there’s a sudden change to Fearing’s symptoms, leading him to deduce a different illness. All of this happens until Redford awakens Fearing from his somewhat sleeping state, and we learn that the young man is capable of changing his appearance simply by post hypnotic suggestion … oh, and a series of knocks done by Redford off-camera.
This presents a quandary about which the two physicians engage in a series of debates, making the plot points of this “Dead Man” all choreographed in dialogue instead of organic plot developments. We’re told the story, and we’re eventually led to understand that a fateful mistake – Redford’s own psychological shortcomings – cause Fearing’s accidental death … or do they? Before you know it, we’re off to another round of – ahem – conversations which suggest the good-looking young man might not be dead, at which point the drama goes full melodrama in a bid to see him unearthed from his crypt by the woman who loves him. As you can guess, she “raises” him from the dead with the proper post-hypnotic signal … and you can probably figure out what happens next.
Sigh.
Again, if storytellers have to literally tell me a story, then there’s far too much exposition for any of it to feel authentic. That’s the biggest stumbling block to “Dead Man:” not a bit of it escapes artificial construction, meaning that we’ll all feel better after this commercial break anyway … so what’s all the fuss about?
Sadly, the second half of the two-part season opener – “The Housekeeper” – is an equally uninspired yarn, though it does provoke a few good chuckles at the expense of some fairly stereotypical creations.
Miss Wattle (played by Jeanette Nolan) is an aging spinster who’s still needing to work as a household maid to make end meet end. In the opening segment, she’s called to her work agency and attached to an opening specifically because the client has requested – ahem – someone old, someone ‘ugly,’ and someone with no other prospects in life. Granted, such a job description would likely result in a bevy of lawsuits today, but this was the 1970’s. And it was TV! So it’s perfectly acceptable! Rude, yes. But acceptable.
Because she’s perfectly fit for the task, Miss Wattle is dispatched where she meets the somewhat studious Cedric Acton (Larry Hagman), who reminds the older woman over and over again of just how perfect she is for his preferred qualifications. As the story develops, his true mission slowly comes to light: it would seem that Acton’s wife, Carlotta (Suzy Parker), is actually not only the source of Cedric’s wealth but also all the troubles in his world! He’s tapped into a kind of black magic apparently and wishes to use it to replace her consciousness with that of an eternally grateful Miss Wattle … only the dear old maid turns out to have designs all of her own once the deed is performed.
As I said above, viewers need to put aside some of the cultural issues with “The Housekeeper.” While made in the 60’s/70’s, it definitely feels as though it was originally written much earlier. (Unfortunately, IMDB.com’s citation is a bit unclear.) There are some very obvious stereotypes of simpler times that won’t sit well with today’s audience; but if you can look past that there’s a perfectly charming (but paper thin) loose romantic comedy in there. Granted, it doesn’t quite work out the way any of these characters intended, but that’s Serling’s narrative gift: he likes upending expectations in the last reel, and that he does here.
Though imperfect (and obvious dated), neither half of this first episode truly represented the best TV had to offer both in and out of Serling’s capable hands. As this is my first foray into the world of Night Gallery, I’m hoping and praying that things start to look up with Episode Two … or I’m going to have miles and miles to go before I sleep …
-- EZ
Miss Wattle (played by Jeanette Nolan) is an aging spinster who’s still needing to work as a household maid to make end meet end. In the opening segment, she’s called to her work agency and attached to an opening specifically because the client has requested – ahem – someone old, someone ‘ugly,’ and someone with no other prospects in life. Granted, such a job description would likely result in a bevy of lawsuits today, but this was the 1970’s. And it was TV! So it’s perfectly acceptable! Rude, yes. But acceptable.
Because she’s perfectly fit for the task, Miss Wattle is dispatched where she meets the somewhat studious Cedric Acton (Larry Hagman), who reminds the older woman over and over again of just how perfect she is for his preferred qualifications. As the story develops, his true mission slowly comes to light: it would seem that Acton’s wife, Carlotta (Suzy Parker), is actually not only the source of Cedric’s wealth but also all the troubles in his world! He’s tapped into a kind of black magic apparently and wishes to use it to replace her consciousness with that of an eternally grateful Miss Wattle … only the dear old maid turns out to have designs all of her own once the deed is performed.
As I said above, viewers need to put aside some of the cultural issues with “The Housekeeper.” While made in the 60’s/70’s, it definitely feels as though it was originally written much earlier. (Unfortunately, IMDB.com’s citation is a bit unclear.) There are some very obvious stereotypes of simpler times that won’t sit well with today’s audience; but if you can look past that there’s a perfectly charming (but paper thin) loose romantic comedy in there. Granted, it doesn’t quite work out the way any of these characters intended, but that’s Serling’s narrative gift: he likes upending expectations in the last reel, and that he does here.
Though imperfect (and obvious dated), neither half of this first episode truly represented the best TV had to offer both in and out of Serling’s capable hands. As this is my first foray into the world of Night Gallery, I’m hoping and praying that things start to look up with Episode Two … or I’m going to have miles and miles to go before I sleep …
-- EZ
- Published on
Over the years, I've read a fair amount of commentary about issues of typecasting.
Essentially, there's been an argument made that Hollywood has historically exercised very little caution in selecting persons of a certain -- erm -- "type" to cast as the villain. While some critics have diagnosed an undercurrent of racism in these casting decisions, I've often seen these choices as employing a certain mystique that, quite frankly, may not emanate from talent of certain backgrounds and ethnicity. Yes, yes, yes: I realize at one level that might just be the point these academics are getting to, but I'm only trying to suggest -- as politely as I can -- that certain features lend themselves to perceived villainy. It has nothing directly to do with skin color so much as it does the cut of a man's jaw, the intensity of the actor's glare, and the construction of his potential look on camera. Again -- categorically -- it has nothing (for me, at least) to do with skin color; some faces just happen to 'snarl' better than others.
While this might make me unpopular with some folks, I think there was a time in Tinseltown that Henry Silva captured that look. Yes, yes, and yes: I've seen his work in some softer roles. He was quite good -- proving that the man could easily transcend any studio's tendency to showcase him only in certain roles -- but he always retained a toughness in everything I remember him starring in. He wasn't any pushover. He wasn't any lackey. If and when the story needed something done, then movers and shakers like Silva were perfectly cast.
Naturally, I understand and appreciate the position of those who claim he was a talent shoehorned into specific roles. I'm not arguing otherwise ... but I'm also man enough to point out that whenever given the chance Silva was damn good at playing the villain. While he could impose a measure of menace whenever called upon, I'd also suggest those eyes could convey more than just conventional evil. There was always something going on in those eyes. His wheels were always turning. While he could chew scenery with the best of them, he'd also elevate the heavy to the point of being dimensional ... and that's not something every actor could achieve.
While some might argue his genre credentials were light ... well, I'm just getting started.
1962's The Manchurian Candidate isn't a what I'd suggest is renowned as a Science Fiction project, and yet there's no mistaking the fact that the premise of both hypnosis and mind control fall smack dap into the middle of such favored territory. For folks who might not have seen it, please do yourself a favor. It's a masterful film directed by John Frankenheimer -- one I discovered way back in my college days -- and it's the kind of thing I'll watch whenever I find it on the TV dial. It offers great performances across the board -- some of them might be a bit simply by today's standards -- and Silva has a fabulous presence in it, even with his slim screen time.
Of course, that isn't his only contribution.
He made two appearances to television's The Outer Limits -- one in 1963 and again in 1964 in different roles -- and paid a visit to the popular Voyage To The Bottom Of The Sea, a franchise that hosted guest roles to many of the man's contemporaries. He also stopped by for a guest role in 1966's Tarzan TV serial. In 1969, he even enjoyed a guest stint on Mission: Impossible. It wasn't until 1978 that he truly found Science Fiction with a visit to the SciFi/Comedy series Quark.
Perhaps his biggest contribution in all of SciFi, however, was and will remain his work as the infamous 'Killer Kane,' advisor to none other than the villainous 'Princess Ardala' aboard the motion picture and series pilot for Buck Rogers In The 25th Century. Honestly, I've never read why he didn't reprise the role on the show -- Kane did come back for a few episodes; at this point, I can only imagine that he wanted to focus on his film work and opted for meatier prospects.
Still, I'd be remiss in my duties if I failed to mention that he voiced the character of 'Bane' for a few incarnations of Batman cartoons. I've been a fan of the Batworld for all of my life, and I can't imagine anyone other than Henry Silva having the gumption to play a seminal creation that -- in the comic books, at least -- is the villain who finally broke The Bat. How fitting.
There were a few more genre projects that followed, but it appears he retired from the business in 2001.
Alas, word reached my desk this morning that he's left us for other celestial pursuits.
Thoughts and prayers are extended to the friends, family, and fans of Mr. Silva.
-- EZ
Essentially, there's been an argument made that Hollywood has historically exercised very little caution in selecting persons of a certain -- erm -- "type" to cast as the villain. While some critics have diagnosed an undercurrent of racism in these casting decisions, I've often seen these choices as employing a certain mystique that, quite frankly, may not emanate from talent of certain backgrounds and ethnicity. Yes, yes, yes: I realize at one level that might just be the point these academics are getting to, but I'm only trying to suggest -- as politely as I can -- that certain features lend themselves to perceived villainy. It has nothing directly to do with skin color so much as it does the cut of a man's jaw, the intensity of the actor's glare, and the construction of his potential look on camera. Again -- categorically -- it has nothing (for me, at least) to do with skin color; some faces just happen to 'snarl' better than others.
While this might make me unpopular with some folks, I think there was a time in Tinseltown that Henry Silva captured that look. Yes, yes, and yes: I've seen his work in some softer roles. He was quite good -- proving that the man could easily transcend any studio's tendency to showcase him only in certain roles -- but he always retained a toughness in everything I remember him starring in. He wasn't any pushover. He wasn't any lackey. If and when the story needed something done, then movers and shakers like Silva were perfectly cast.
Naturally, I understand and appreciate the position of those who claim he was a talent shoehorned into specific roles. I'm not arguing otherwise ... but I'm also man enough to point out that whenever given the chance Silva was damn good at playing the villain. While he could impose a measure of menace whenever called upon, I'd also suggest those eyes could convey more than just conventional evil. There was always something going on in those eyes. His wheels were always turning. While he could chew scenery with the best of them, he'd also elevate the heavy to the point of being dimensional ... and that's not something every actor could achieve.
While some might argue his genre credentials were light ... well, I'm just getting started.
1962's The Manchurian Candidate isn't a what I'd suggest is renowned as a Science Fiction project, and yet there's no mistaking the fact that the premise of both hypnosis and mind control fall smack dap into the middle of such favored territory. For folks who might not have seen it, please do yourself a favor. It's a masterful film directed by John Frankenheimer -- one I discovered way back in my college days -- and it's the kind of thing I'll watch whenever I find it on the TV dial. It offers great performances across the board -- some of them might be a bit simply by today's standards -- and Silva has a fabulous presence in it, even with his slim screen time.
Of course, that isn't his only contribution.
He made two appearances to television's The Outer Limits -- one in 1963 and again in 1964 in different roles -- and paid a visit to the popular Voyage To The Bottom Of The Sea, a franchise that hosted guest roles to many of the man's contemporaries. He also stopped by for a guest role in 1966's Tarzan TV serial. In 1969, he even enjoyed a guest stint on Mission: Impossible. It wasn't until 1978 that he truly found Science Fiction with a visit to the SciFi/Comedy series Quark.
Perhaps his biggest contribution in all of SciFi, however, was and will remain his work as the infamous 'Killer Kane,' advisor to none other than the villainous 'Princess Ardala' aboard the motion picture and series pilot for Buck Rogers In The 25th Century. Honestly, I've never read why he didn't reprise the role on the show -- Kane did come back for a few episodes; at this point, I can only imagine that he wanted to focus on his film work and opted for meatier prospects.
Still, I'd be remiss in my duties if I failed to mention that he voiced the character of 'Bane' for a few incarnations of Batman cartoons. I've been a fan of the Batworld for all of my life, and I can't imagine anyone other than Henry Silva having the gumption to play a seminal creation that -- in the comic books, at least -- is the villain who finally broke The Bat. How fitting.
There were a few more genre projects that followed, but it appears he retired from the business in 2001.
Alas, word reached my desk this morning that he's left us for other celestial pursuits.
Thoughts and prayers are extended to the friends, family, and fans of Mr. Silva.
-- EZ
- Published on
1994’s Timecop is one of those rare Science Fiction and Fantasy misfires.
Had everyone involved simply stuck to delivering even the bare minimum of formulaic conventions, then the finished product should’ve easily surpassed the sum of its parts. You’ve got time travel. You’ve got a good vs. evil story. You’re got a reasonably charismatic young lead rounded out by a cadre of great-looking supporting players, many of which with solid histories on the big and small screen. You’ve got a director with a track record in genre properties. And you’ve got a learned and experienced production crew.
Yet, it’s a fairly middling ordeal through-and-through.
Peter Hyams directed the affair from a script provided by Mike Richardson and Mark Verheiden. Richardson has gone on to producing such genre fare as Hellboy (2004), Alien Vs. Predator (2004), Hellboy 2: The Golden Army (2008), and Syfy’s popular Dark Matter and Resident Alien as well as Netflix’s The Umbrella Academy. Verheiden – a name I’m familiar with more for his work in the comic book industry than anything else – has also found a measure of success as a producer with his attachment to Smallville, Syfy’s Battlestar Galactica, TNT’s Falling Skies, and Starz Network’s Ash Vs Evil Dead. As for director Hyams? Prior to Timecop, the man graced the silver screen with such entries as Capricorn One (1977), Outland (1981), and 2010: The Year We Make Contact (1984).
Still, all of this creative wattage failed to lift the great premise of a government agency policing time against those who would alter the past in order to affect the future (for their benefit) above the level of a TV-grade potboiler. How did it all go wrong?
That answer lies in its execution.
Jean-Claude Van Damme was cast as lead Max Walker, the Time Enforcement Commission’s top agent. In this role, he’s tasked with heading back into the years gone to nab suspects who’ve escaped into history for whatever nefarious purposes they intend. At this point in his professional career, Van Damme was arguably looked at as a more affordable alternative to box office superstar Arnold Schwarzenegger but hadn’t quite yet found the same level of success in receipts. His earlier genre projects – Cyborg (1989) and Universal Soldier (1992) – certain put him on the cultural map so far as fans of Science Fiction and Fantasy were concerned; but his true and loyal fan base was more aligned with his more sports-leaning athleticism. Flicks like Bloodsport (1988), Kickboxer (1989), and Hard Target (1993) were tailored more directly to the man’s physical skills, and – like actor Sylvester Stallone did with his Rocky franchise – Van Damme established his screen credentials on his ability to best his foes in physical combat more than a show of wits.
As a consequence, I thought that there were bits and pieces of Timecop similarly fashioned to appeal more to Van Damme’s core audience than they were scripted as organic to this narrative. Though others might pass them off as benign scenes thrown in maybe for their ‘cool factor’ or even a bit of comic relief, I found the emphasis on Walker’s high-kicking abilities and other various feats of strength more intrusive than anything else. If you think of a film like a road trip, these were road bumps that any other driver would’ve avoided … but the production felt they were necessary to bolster the budding career of this young star. In fact, it was almost as if producers were trying to say, “Wow, look what our guy can do!”
Had everyone involved simply stuck to delivering even the bare minimum of formulaic conventions, then the finished product should’ve easily surpassed the sum of its parts. You’ve got time travel. You’ve got a good vs. evil story. You’re got a reasonably charismatic young lead rounded out by a cadre of great-looking supporting players, many of which with solid histories on the big and small screen. You’ve got a director with a track record in genre properties. And you’ve got a learned and experienced production crew.
Yet, it’s a fairly middling ordeal through-and-through.
Peter Hyams directed the affair from a script provided by Mike Richardson and Mark Verheiden. Richardson has gone on to producing such genre fare as Hellboy (2004), Alien Vs. Predator (2004), Hellboy 2: The Golden Army (2008), and Syfy’s popular Dark Matter and Resident Alien as well as Netflix’s The Umbrella Academy. Verheiden – a name I’m familiar with more for his work in the comic book industry than anything else – has also found a measure of success as a producer with his attachment to Smallville, Syfy’s Battlestar Galactica, TNT’s Falling Skies, and Starz Network’s Ash Vs Evil Dead. As for director Hyams? Prior to Timecop, the man graced the silver screen with such entries as Capricorn One (1977), Outland (1981), and 2010: The Year We Make Contact (1984).
Still, all of this creative wattage failed to lift the great premise of a government agency policing time against those who would alter the past in order to affect the future (for their benefit) above the level of a TV-grade potboiler. How did it all go wrong?
That answer lies in its execution.
Jean-Claude Van Damme was cast as lead Max Walker, the Time Enforcement Commission’s top agent. In this role, he’s tasked with heading back into the years gone to nab suspects who’ve escaped into history for whatever nefarious purposes they intend. At this point in his professional career, Van Damme was arguably looked at as a more affordable alternative to box office superstar Arnold Schwarzenegger but hadn’t quite yet found the same level of success in receipts. His earlier genre projects – Cyborg (1989) and Universal Soldier (1992) – certain put him on the cultural map so far as fans of Science Fiction and Fantasy were concerned; but his true and loyal fan base was more aligned with his more sports-leaning athleticism. Flicks like Bloodsport (1988), Kickboxer (1989), and Hard Target (1993) were tailored more directly to the man’s physical skills, and – like actor Sylvester Stallone did with his Rocky franchise – Van Damme established his screen credentials on his ability to best his foes in physical combat more than a show of wits.
As a consequence, I thought that there were bits and pieces of Timecop similarly fashioned to appeal more to Van Damme’s core audience than they were scripted as organic to this narrative. Though others might pass them off as benign scenes thrown in maybe for their ‘cool factor’ or even a bit of comic relief, I found the emphasis on Walker’s high-kicking abilities and other various feats of strength more intrusive than anything else. If you think of a film like a road trip, these were road bumps that any other driver would’ve avoided … but the production felt they were necessary to bolster the budding career of this young star. In fact, it was almost as if producers were trying to say, “Wow, look what our guy can do!”
There was a time in my life when I just loved to use the word ‘abysmal.’ It’s one of those rare words that I think rather perfectly describes whatever it’s applied to, and I thank the wordmakers for crafting a description that’s ultimately fitting almost whenever it’s properly used.
So … I don’t think Timecop is an abysmal film, but I do think that in so many respects the folks involved just made some abysmal choices. I don’t fault Van Damme or the producers for making these decisions, but – at the end of the day – we all live and die by whatever we choose to do. I think modifying an obvious SciFi and Fantasy premise and the corresponding script to fit the athletic requirements of an actor’s audience is wrong unless it’s done fully for comic intent. And no I don’t think these sequences were crafted for comedy, making them just ill-timed and atonal with the rest of the picture. That’s the horse I rode in on, and that’s the horse I’m riding out on so far as Timecop is concerned.
That’s why I say it isn’t a bad film. It’s just a complete misfire, one that was calculated that way. As a franchise, I think it’s ripe for a makeover. I’m aware of the short-lived TV spin-off as well as the sequel, but this is one possible tentpole prospect that could use a creative do-over. If done right, then it could be grand.
This time, let’s leave the split kicks to Kobra Kai.
-- EZ
So … I don’t think Timecop is an abysmal film, but I do think that in so many respects the folks involved just made some abysmal choices. I don’t fault Van Damme or the producers for making these decisions, but – at the end of the day – we all live and die by whatever we choose to do. I think modifying an obvious SciFi and Fantasy premise and the corresponding script to fit the athletic requirements of an actor’s audience is wrong unless it’s done fully for comic intent. And no I don’t think these sequences were crafted for comedy, making them just ill-timed and atonal with the rest of the picture. That’s the horse I rode in on, and that’s the horse I’m riding out on so far as Timecop is concerned.
That’s why I say it isn’t a bad film. It’s just a complete misfire, one that was calculated that way. As a franchise, I think it’s ripe for a makeover. I’m aware of the short-lived TV spin-off as well as the sequel, but this is one possible tentpole prospect that could use a creative do-over. If done right, then it could be grand.
This time, let’s leave the split kicks to Kobra Kai.
-- EZ
- Published on
Well, springtime has finally come to King’s Landing – in one cinematic sense of the word – and that’s allowed for a good number of these regal players to finally engage in one of Game Of Thrones signature acts: namely, they’re finally bumping uglies!
Yes, yes, yes. It was only a matter of time, you know. House Of The Dragon – like its predecessor – is on pay cable, and Thrones rather famously made use of some adults-only footage early in its run on HBO. Honestly, I didn’t have as much an issue with it as some viewers seemingly did; sex acts without some kind of narrative relevance – think of it as just gratuitous – might be status quo for some broadcast and streaming entities, but I thought most of what was crafted in the expansive kings-and-queens franchise had more thematic purpose than I’ve seen elsewhere. Granted, there are always exceptions, but I found most of it perfectly acceptable.
However, I think all of us knew going into this particular House that we were inevitably going to see more of the same, and “King Of The Narrow Sea” delivered the goods not so much in regal fashion as it did to – ahem – stir the pot.
Though it only took him four years (according to the dialogue), Prince Daemon Targaryen found himself back in the good graces of the king (though it didn’t last for long, did it?). Returning to Kings Landing, he essentially prostrated himself to his older brother, pledging his commitment once again to the crown while surrendering his own newly earned title as well. Applause, applause! Bring out the wine! It was a curious development – one I hadn’t foreseen in the slightest, expecting Daemon’s greater arc to follow the course of a magisterial rival – but it did allow for the somewhat randy uncle to make a move on his niece (and heir to the throne) Rhaenyra.
Certainly – it would seem – one way or another, this prince will have this kingdom!
While their quasi-coupling (and conscious uncoupling) may’ve come as a surprise to those not watching closely, it fit perfectly well within what House has kinda/sorta loosely established in its first three hours: there’s a smoldering chemistry to these two when they’re together. (In fact, one might argue that’s the only real fire burning anywhere away from the show’s signature dragons.) They’ve been sharing glances and moments alone, so I think their ‘relationship’ was always destined to be something deeper. All I can say is that it came to a head much sooner than I expected it to, but it is what it is. The fact that Daemon had pause when he did, ultimately refusing to go through with the – ahem – intimacy, could underscore that there’s more to him than meets the eye … but hasn’t that been the case with, perhaps, every character audiences have come to know since this franchise began? Could this signal a full turnabout with him destined to be the show’s hero? I guess – in that respect – only time will tell. (Alas, I’m not familiar with the source material as are some who blog Science Fiction and Fantasy.)
Yes, yes, yes. It was only a matter of time, you know. House Of The Dragon – like its predecessor – is on pay cable, and Thrones rather famously made use of some adults-only footage early in its run on HBO. Honestly, I didn’t have as much an issue with it as some viewers seemingly did; sex acts without some kind of narrative relevance – think of it as just gratuitous – might be status quo for some broadcast and streaming entities, but I thought most of what was crafted in the expansive kings-and-queens franchise had more thematic purpose than I’ve seen elsewhere. Granted, there are always exceptions, but I found most of it perfectly acceptable.
However, I think all of us knew going into this particular House that we were inevitably going to see more of the same, and “King Of The Narrow Sea” delivered the goods not so much in regal fashion as it did to – ahem – stir the pot.
Though it only took him four years (according to the dialogue), Prince Daemon Targaryen found himself back in the good graces of the king (though it didn’t last for long, did it?). Returning to Kings Landing, he essentially prostrated himself to his older brother, pledging his commitment once again to the crown while surrendering his own newly earned title as well. Applause, applause! Bring out the wine! It was a curious development – one I hadn’t foreseen in the slightest, expecting Daemon’s greater arc to follow the course of a magisterial rival – but it did allow for the somewhat randy uncle to make a move on his niece (and heir to the throne) Rhaenyra.
Certainly – it would seem – one way or another, this prince will have this kingdom!
While their quasi-coupling (and conscious uncoupling) may’ve come as a surprise to those not watching closely, it fit perfectly well within what House has kinda/sorta loosely established in its first three hours: there’s a smoldering chemistry to these two when they’re together. (In fact, one might argue that’s the only real fire burning anywhere away from the show’s signature dragons.) They’ve been sharing glances and moments alone, so I think their ‘relationship’ was always destined to be something deeper. All I can say is that it came to a head much sooner than I expected it to, but it is what it is. The fact that Daemon had pause when he did, ultimately refusing to go through with the – ahem – intimacy, could underscore that there’s more to him than meets the eye … but hasn’t that been the case with, perhaps, every character audiences have come to know since this franchise began? Could this signal a full turnabout with him destined to be the show’s hero? I guess – in that respect – only time will tell. (Alas, I’m not familiar with the source material as are some who blog Science Fiction and Fantasy.)
What Daemon’s machinations did bring about was also more than a bit predictable: after being so roundly rejected by her dear uncle, Rhaenyra rushes back to the castle for a night of fun with Ser Criston Col, her royal guard. Again, their attraction has been showing slowly across these few episodes; and I predict many in the audience saw this pairing coming as well. She did personally select him to serve on the King’s guard, and she did spend some quality ‘away time’ with him in the forest. Still, it was handled very nicely – with good taste – and you can bet precisely for those reasons it’ll set off a veritable firestorm of plot development as the season continues to unfold. Anything with a silver lining always turns to crap at King’s Landing. Always.
Not to be left out of the – ahem –spring fever, Queen Alicent finds herself summoned to her husband’s chambers for some royal intrigue of her own; and we’re shown a rather discomfited lady doing little more than lying beneath the man as he goes about his business. It’s a rather proper portrait for the girl who kinda/sorta found herself silently and secretly manipulated (by her dear old dad, Otto Hightower) into the arms of the widowed king; clearly, she’s entered into this marriage out of some sense of familial responsibility and not over love. Though we’ve all suspected as such, these moments confirmed all of our suspicions. (And, for the record, I still think there’s something ‘up’ with Otto. I’ve got my eye on you.)
All of this heavy petting aside, “King Of The Narrow Sea” was little more than a series of calculated developments, all that shifted the program’s focus in a different direction.
Where do I begin?
Daemon finds himself banished. Again. His beloved Mysaria’s back in the whoring business. Again. The King fires his Hand. Alicent doesn’t know whom to trust. And Rhaenerya’s fidelity remains a sticking point … but father has pledged her hand to another anyway. Gone is all talk of war – likely a brief respite, mind you, knowing this franchise – and now these various pieces have been moved about the figurative chess board. The hour’s pacing felt a bit off – at one point, I wondered if this was two different hours edited into one, resulting in a bit of clunkiness – but sometimes that happens when the focus shifts from action to drama, as it appears this one has.
Buckle up, kids. It looks like the kingdom’s still in peril.
-- EZ
Not to be left out of the – ahem –spring fever, Queen Alicent finds herself summoned to her husband’s chambers for some royal intrigue of her own; and we’re shown a rather discomfited lady doing little more than lying beneath the man as he goes about his business. It’s a rather proper portrait for the girl who kinda/sorta found herself silently and secretly manipulated (by her dear old dad, Otto Hightower) into the arms of the widowed king; clearly, she’s entered into this marriage out of some sense of familial responsibility and not over love. Though we’ve all suspected as such, these moments confirmed all of our suspicions. (And, for the record, I still think there’s something ‘up’ with Otto. I’ve got my eye on you.)
All of this heavy petting aside, “King Of The Narrow Sea” was little more than a series of calculated developments, all that shifted the program’s focus in a different direction.
Where do I begin?
Daemon finds himself banished. Again. His beloved Mysaria’s back in the whoring business. Again. The King fires his Hand. Alicent doesn’t know whom to trust. And Rhaenerya’s fidelity remains a sticking point … but father has pledged her hand to another anyway. Gone is all talk of war – likely a brief respite, mind you, knowing this franchise – and now these various pieces have been moved about the figurative chess board. The hour’s pacing felt a bit off – at one point, I wondered if this was two different hours edited into one, resulting in a bit of clunkiness – but sometimes that happens when the focus shifts from action to drama, as it appears this one has.
Buckle up, kids. It looks like the kingdom’s still in peril.
-- EZ
- Published on
It’s been entirely my experience that Richard Stanley’s Hardware is an incredibly divisive film.
Far be it from me to court a bit of controversy (snicker snicker) but can I just say that I think the picture has, largely been misunderstood? I’ve been wrong before – my wife occasionally insists I am to a fault – but could it be that the folks who don’t like Hardware base their opinions not so much on what the film says as they do their interpretation of the film? I say this because a lot of what I’ve heard them suggest the flick is about – anti-Americanism, misogyny, violent feminism, torture porn, etc. – I just don’t quite see in it. Oh, sure, there’s an undercurrent of nihilism one could argue – or maybe a preponderance about the destructive tendencies of mankind – but everything else I’ve heard I strongly think is subject to explanation. Honestly, if Stanley put it in there literally, then I missed it.
What I do see is a fabulous Horror shocker with a rather obvious – if not a tad bit predictable – Science Fiction edge. Thematically, I’ve often thought it similar to James Cameron’s The Terminator (1984), though I can understand why some folks blanch at that association more so than the comparison. What you have is a machine that’s been programmed to do what it does – kill, kill, kill – and it goes about its business once accidentally brought back to civilization by stars Dylan McDermott and Stacey Travis.
(Might I just add I’ve always loved Travis in this work … or does that make me a misogynist, too?)
Produced by Palace Pictures with a few other contributors, I’m well aware that the film’s origins and ownership issues are a bit of screen legend themselves (so I’ll leave that alone). Based on a story by Steve MacManus and Kevin O’Neill, Stanley adapted and shot it for the screen (with some other dialogue provided by Michael Fallon); and it’s a great and claustrophic bit of tech noir that’s chugged and chugged like the little engine that could. It slowly built itself a cult audience over the years and – based entirely on a fairly recent viewing – I think it holds up even decades later.
Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
“The head of a cyborg reactivates, rebuilds itself, and goes on a violent rampage in a space marine’s girlfriend’s apartment.”
Far be it from me to court a bit of controversy (snicker snicker) but can I just say that I think the picture has, largely been misunderstood? I’ve been wrong before – my wife occasionally insists I am to a fault – but could it be that the folks who don’t like Hardware base their opinions not so much on what the film says as they do their interpretation of the film? I say this because a lot of what I’ve heard them suggest the flick is about – anti-Americanism, misogyny, violent feminism, torture porn, etc. – I just don’t quite see in it. Oh, sure, there’s an undercurrent of nihilism one could argue – or maybe a preponderance about the destructive tendencies of mankind – but everything else I’ve heard I strongly think is subject to explanation. Honestly, if Stanley put it in there literally, then I missed it.
What I do see is a fabulous Horror shocker with a rather obvious – if not a tad bit predictable – Science Fiction edge. Thematically, I’ve often thought it similar to James Cameron’s The Terminator (1984), though I can understand why some folks blanch at that association more so than the comparison. What you have is a machine that’s been programmed to do what it does – kill, kill, kill – and it goes about its business once accidentally brought back to civilization by stars Dylan McDermott and Stacey Travis.
(Might I just add I’ve always loved Travis in this work … or does that make me a misogynist, too?)
Produced by Palace Pictures with a few other contributors, I’m well aware that the film’s origins and ownership issues are a bit of screen legend themselves (so I’ll leave that alone). Based on a story by Steve MacManus and Kevin O’Neill, Stanley adapted and shot it for the screen (with some other dialogue provided by Michael Fallon); and it’s a great and claustrophic bit of tech noir that’s chugged and chugged like the little engine that could. It slowly built itself a cult audience over the years and – based entirely on a fairly recent viewing – I think it holds up even decades later.
Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
“The head of a cyborg reactivates, rebuilds itself, and goes on a violent rampage in a space marine’s girlfriend’s apartment.”
Now, folks, don’t mistake my enjoyment of the film as a dismissal of anyone’s pressing concerns about the flick’s imagery. Not in the slightest. If that’s what you (and yours) see in there, then that’s on you. My take is that I understand those positions though I may not share them. I don’t doubt that there’s violence in the real world, and I don’t doubt there’s an awful lot of it directed against the fairer sex. My point is that I don’t see a lot of that coming from robots, so I do try to temper the narrative when and if I can do my part to contribute to the dialogue.
All of that aside, Hardware did enjoy a bit of praise in its day when it made the rounds of the film festival circuit; and that’s certainly no surprise. Its subversiveness – especially when paired up with the Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror angles – is exactly the kind of thing that generally catches the attention of folks who attend those things. Indeed, one might make the case that Stanley’s work predates what audiences eventually came to love about the wider Saw franchise, wherein any number of good-looking talent were reduced to walking meat puppets in service to the theatrical bloodshed. Yeah, yeah, yeah: I know that those characters may’ve had it coming as the consequences from doing something bad in their fictional pasts, but my point remains the same, that being Stanley did it first … and maybe even did it better on a much smaller budget.
Whatever your predilection, I think a round of ‘Happy Birthday’ is the least we can give this killer cyborg. Keep the thing happy, folks … we know what happens once the programming kicks in.
-- EZ
All of that aside, Hardware did enjoy a bit of praise in its day when it made the rounds of the film festival circuit; and that’s certainly no surprise. Its subversiveness – especially when paired up with the Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror angles – is exactly the kind of thing that generally catches the attention of folks who attend those things. Indeed, one might make the case that Stanley’s work predates what audiences eventually came to love about the wider Saw franchise, wherein any number of good-looking talent were reduced to walking meat puppets in service to the theatrical bloodshed. Yeah, yeah, yeah: I know that those characters may’ve had it coming as the consequences from doing something bad in their fictional pasts, but my point remains the same, that being Stanley did it first … and maybe even did it better on a much smaller budget.
Whatever your predilection, I think a round of ‘Happy Birthday’ is the least we can give this killer cyborg. Keep the thing happy, folks … we know what happens once the programming kicks in.
-- EZ
- Published on
Get ready to be shocked, folks:
When it comes to When Worlds Collide, my opinion once again diverges from the popular consensus. Whereas many in the Science Fiction, Fantasy, and critical community consider it a bona fide classic, I honestly just consider it “good.”
Now, none of that is intended to take anything away from the 1951 flick. It certainly deserves all of the high marks it’s received in history, including the 1952 Academy Award win in the category of Best Special Effects. Those were certainly a bit groundbreaking for their era, and I’ve no doubt that the motion picture went on to inspire many, many other filmmakers and storytellers to spin a bit more yarn about Earth’s future and mankind’s quest to move from having the dirt under his feet to floating weightless in the final frontier.
I think my reservations with the film largely are owed to the way I experienced it. For years, it was one that I just couldn’t find on any channel. (Yes, kids, I’m talking about back in the days wherein regular television was the only outlet for home-based entertainment.) I’d often stumble upon it well after it had started, meaning I was joining the film in progress; and I’ve never been a good watcher of things that way. I end up asking myself a lot of questions about what I’d missed, and the end result really wrecks the experience for me. I did eventually rent a copy in the late 80’s or early 90’s (I think it was), and – outside of the effects work – I just don’t recall being all that interested in it. The characters all seemed a bit flat to my tastes, and – sigh – I’m rarely a fan of the forced love interests of the bygone era.
More than anything, I bring up my opinion of the film because it surprises me. When Worlds Collide was produced by the late, great George Pal (1953’s The War Of The Worlds and 1960’s The Time Machine), whose stuff – even the weaker entries – I usually love. Pal was the George Lucas and Steven Spielberg of his day – I’ve heard Spielberg speak very highly of the man’s body of work – and his track record for quality storytelling of its day is incredible. The guy was nominated for a total of seven Oscars over the life in the business – along with a few Hugo Award nominations – but even those credentials fail to convince me of Collide’s greatness.
As I said, I just find it “good.”
When it comes to When Worlds Collide, my opinion once again diverges from the popular consensus. Whereas many in the Science Fiction, Fantasy, and critical community consider it a bona fide classic, I honestly just consider it “good.”
Now, none of that is intended to take anything away from the 1951 flick. It certainly deserves all of the high marks it’s received in history, including the 1952 Academy Award win in the category of Best Special Effects. Those were certainly a bit groundbreaking for their era, and I’ve no doubt that the motion picture went on to inspire many, many other filmmakers and storytellers to spin a bit more yarn about Earth’s future and mankind’s quest to move from having the dirt under his feet to floating weightless in the final frontier.
I think my reservations with the film largely are owed to the way I experienced it. For years, it was one that I just couldn’t find on any channel. (Yes, kids, I’m talking about back in the days wherein regular television was the only outlet for home-based entertainment.) I’d often stumble upon it well after it had started, meaning I was joining the film in progress; and I’ve never been a good watcher of things that way. I end up asking myself a lot of questions about what I’d missed, and the end result really wrecks the experience for me. I did eventually rent a copy in the late 80’s or early 90’s (I think it was), and – outside of the effects work – I just don’t recall being all that interested in it. The characters all seemed a bit flat to my tastes, and – sigh – I’m rarely a fan of the forced love interests of the bygone era.
More than anything, I bring up my opinion of the film because it surprises me. When Worlds Collide was produced by the late, great George Pal (1953’s The War Of The Worlds and 1960’s The Time Machine), whose stuff – even the weaker entries – I usually love. Pal was the George Lucas and Steven Spielberg of his day – I’ve heard Spielberg speak very highly of the man’s body of work – and his track record for quality storytelling of its day is incredible. The guy was nominated for a total of seven Oscars over the life in the business – along with a few Hugo Award nominations – but even those credentials fail to convince me of Collide’s greatness.
As I said, I just find it “good.”
Still, I do give Collide a measure of kudos when it comes to the handling of its subject matter.
For those who missed it, the story is about Earth’s impending demise: there’s an impending stellar catastrophe that spells certain doom, and – in order to survive – mankind will have to take to the stars in a rocketship bound for a sister planet, one that scientists believe can sustain our race in a bid to start over. Collide’s script by Sydney Boehm (adapting the novel of the same name by Edwin Balmer and Philip Wylie) could’ve easily descending into dramatic speeches of doom and gloom, but the tale as constructed only circumstantially flirts with the obvious existentialism. Instead, the characters mostly possess a strong work ethic, one that keeps them committed to carrying on only our culture’s best traditions … despite the eventual rising panic in society’s mad rush to live on we’re treated to in the last reel.
I’d read somewhere once that Pal had intended to produce a sequel to the film, one that would’ve depicted the trials and tribulations of men working to survive on the alien world seen in Collide’s closing moments. While I’m unaware whatever happened with that possible effort, I think I’ve made peace with my feelings over the original as I’m not sure a follow-up really was all that necessary.
-- EZ
For those who missed it, the story is about Earth’s impending demise: there’s an impending stellar catastrophe that spells certain doom, and – in order to survive – mankind will have to take to the stars in a rocketship bound for a sister planet, one that scientists believe can sustain our race in a bid to start over. Collide’s script by Sydney Boehm (adapting the novel of the same name by Edwin Balmer and Philip Wylie) could’ve easily descending into dramatic speeches of doom and gloom, but the tale as constructed only circumstantially flirts with the obvious existentialism. Instead, the characters mostly possess a strong work ethic, one that keeps them committed to carrying on only our culture’s best traditions … despite the eventual rising panic in society’s mad rush to live on we’re treated to in the last reel.
I’d read somewhere once that Pal had intended to produce a sequel to the film, one that would’ve depicted the trials and tribulations of men working to survive on the alien world seen in Collide’s closing moments. While I’m unaware whatever happened with that possible effort, I think I’ve made peace with my feelings over the original as I’m not sure a follow-up really was all that necessary.
-- EZ
- Published on
Back in my college days, I struggled through a writing class with one professor who insisted that “every film you watched had to be about something.”
On one level, I naturally agreed. Every film – whether we like the story or not – tells a tale. Right? It takes the audience on a journey through a series of related events – all involving interconnected characters – and inevitably delivers us somewhere, to some destination. Where I pushed back, however, was that I believed some fables were crafted for purely entertainment purposes and, thus, didn’t really mean all that much. Were this the case, any messaging a viewer took from it was clearly a secondary consideration of the cast and crew … so why make any intellectual fuss over what it all may or may not mean?
When the instructor argued with me further, I tried coming at the topic from another point of view. For example, the professor – this being the 1980’s – had an incredible artistic appreciation for a certain war film (I won’t name it, as it doesn’t really matter) of the time and was constantly (constantly!) referencing it, its message, and its metaphors at every opportunity. So, one day I mentioned his favorite war lick, and I explained how I took a different meaning from the ending than he did … so – based entirely on his experience versus mine – who’s to say which is the better interpretation?
Well, he was the one paid to provide opinions – not I – so, in his estimation, his measured analysis mattered more than mine. Ouch.
In any event, I’ve long argued that, when a film seeks to ultimately entertain those who buy a ticket, there’s still a respectability to that process … and today I’m arguing that same point on behalf of The Retaliators (2021). It’s a Horror/Thriller from the directing team of Samuel Gonzalez Jr., Michael Lombardi (who also headlines it), and Bridget Smith. While the flick flirts with some mixed messages about revenge and redemption, it inevitably seeks to amuse. To scare. To get your blood pumping. Nothing more. Nothing less.
(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 upstanding pastor uncovers a dark and twisted underworld as he searches for answers surrounding his daughter’s brutal murder.”
If you’re looking for your film to definitively say something about the greater world-at-large, then you’re going to have to be much more specific than Darren Geare and Jeff Allen Geare were in their screenplay for The Retaliators, an impressive outing that relies heavily on pushing some very predictable moral buttons but delivers a seemingly never-ending assortment of bloody showdowns in its second half. Each and every set-up that preaches against violence ends up adding to the body count; before you know it, this broken man-of-faith looks less and less like Jimmy Stewart and more and more like John Rambo.
Much of this is owed to the world as created by the Geares and their team of directors (three are listed in the credits).
On one level, I naturally agreed. Every film – whether we like the story or not – tells a tale. Right? It takes the audience on a journey through a series of related events – all involving interconnected characters – and inevitably delivers us somewhere, to some destination. Where I pushed back, however, was that I believed some fables were crafted for purely entertainment purposes and, thus, didn’t really mean all that much. Were this the case, any messaging a viewer took from it was clearly a secondary consideration of the cast and crew … so why make any intellectual fuss over what it all may or may not mean?
When the instructor argued with me further, I tried coming at the topic from another point of view. For example, the professor – this being the 1980’s – had an incredible artistic appreciation for a certain war film (I won’t name it, as it doesn’t really matter) of the time and was constantly (constantly!) referencing it, its message, and its metaphors at every opportunity. So, one day I mentioned his favorite war lick, and I explained how I took a different meaning from the ending than he did … so – based entirely on his experience versus mine – who’s to say which is the better interpretation?
Well, he was the one paid to provide opinions – not I – so, in his estimation, his measured analysis mattered more than mine. Ouch.
In any event, I’ve long argued that, when a film seeks to ultimately entertain those who buy a ticket, there’s still a respectability to that process … and today I’m arguing that same point on behalf of The Retaliators (2021). It’s a Horror/Thriller from the directing team of Samuel Gonzalez Jr., Michael Lombardi (who also headlines it), and Bridget Smith. While the flick flirts with some mixed messages about revenge and redemption, it inevitably seeks to amuse. To scare. To get your blood pumping. Nothing more. Nothing less.
(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 upstanding pastor uncovers a dark and twisted underworld as he searches for answers surrounding his daughter’s brutal murder.”
If you’re looking for your film to definitively say something about the greater world-at-large, then you’re going to have to be much more specific than Darren Geare and Jeff Allen Geare were in their screenplay for The Retaliators, an impressive outing that relies heavily on pushing some very predictable moral buttons but delivers a seemingly never-ending assortment of bloody showdowns in its second half. Each and every set-up that preaches against violence ends up adding to the body count; before you know it, this broken man-of-faith looks less and less like Jimmy Stewart and more and more like John Rambo.
Much of this is owed to the world as created by the Geares and their team of directors (three are listed in the credits).
In short, The Retaliators piles on practically every conceivable vice our culture has suffered from, currently suffers from, and (likely) will always suffer from in its creative assault on our senses. Rarely has one film reveled in so much debauchery and, yet, neither condemned nor condoned it, instead just casually dropped one more metaphorical log on its metaphorical fire. This story has drugs. It has money. It has strippers. It has murderers. Rock’n’roll. Lap dances. It has dealers. It has dirty cops. It has gangs and bikers. It has torture. It has dungeons. And somehow it even manages to squeeze the less-than-able bodied and even a bomb shelter into its confines.
Though I don’t know for certain, I’d like to think that everyone involved consciously did this in order to strip us culturally back to a time when a bit of Old Testament-style justice (“an eye for an eye”) truly meant something. It wasn’t just a saying, just something folks who went to church talked about. In fact, it was how several generations of us were raised, and some might argue that its loss from the wider moral discussion may explain why there’s so much wrong with society today. I’ve no way to know if that’s what I’m to deduce from all of this chaos because no one says so, certainly not even our once humble lead Pastor Bishop (played effectively by Lombardi) whom we see telling a white lie to his parishioners about how he used the word of God to defuse a conflict over a Christmas tree. (Truth: he didn’t, deliberately misleading them as to the efficacy of his sermons … and he has a vastly different solution come similar circumstances once all is said and done.)
That’s why I encourage folks not to look too deeply into The Retaliators. It’s a fool’s errand if ever there were.
Instead, just enjoy it as a good old-fashioned testament to guilt-free wickedness. It’s a mildly daring ‘what would you do if’ story, and it works very well on that level. Sure, you may find some secret message hidden in here, but I’m likely able to dissect it with footage from the very next sequence … or the one thereafter … or maybe even the one when Bishop uses his youngest daughter’s bracelet to pluck the eye out of his would-be assassin. Do you really think that sequence has deeper meaning? Or is it not just the coolest thing you’ve watched today? Or how about that murder-by-wood-chipper moment? You think the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences wants to craft a special recognition Oscar for that scene or just let it be the crowd-pleasing, blood-spurting finish it was likely meant to be?
If anything, The Retaliators biggest problem might very well be that it doesn’t quite know what it truly wants to be in its first half, almost as if the storytellers were hedging their bets with a protracted set-up hoping to rope more folks into their seats before the ample and obvious bloodlust begins. Once it does, we’re in pure Horror territory here, so any resemblance to highbrow didactic filmmaking has really gone out the window. It’s much closer to a pop culture fairy tale – with wicked pulp sensibilities – than it is a (ahem) “meaningful viewing experience.”
Think what you will, but folks didn’t flock to repeat showings of The Exorcist (1973) to learn how to perform an exorcism or confront their demons. They did it to be scared sh#tless vicariously.
Nothin’ wrong with that.
Recommended.
Hey now: I’m not going to get into a debate with anyone over what subject matter might be best left alone, but I will say that The Retaliators revels in the excesses of its own creation very effectively from the outset right up until its fitting last scene. Though some might try to attach greater meaning to the gratuitousness, I find it refreshing when storytellers occasionally strip away all of the pretense of ‘being about something’ and, instead, just swing for the fences with entertainment. I didn’t learn anything from this one. I just marveled at its bloody-knuckled efficiency.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Better Noise Films provided me with complimentary screener access to The Retaliators (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.
Though I don’t know for certain, I’d like to think that everyone involved consciously did this in order to strip us culturally back to a time when a bit of Old Testament-style justice (“an eye for an eye”) truly meant something. It wasn’t just a saying, just something folks who went to church talked about. In fact, it was how several generations of us were raised, and some might argue that its loss from the wider moral discussion may explain why there’s so much wrong with society today. I’ve no way to know if that’s what I’m to deduce from all of this chaos because no one says so, certainly not even our once humble lead Pastor Bishop (played effectively by Lombardi) whom we see telling a white lie to his parishioners about how he used the word of God to defuse a conflict over a Christmas tree. (Truth: he didn’t, deliberately misleading them as to the efficacy of his sermons … and he has a vastly different solution come similar circumstances once all is said and done.)
That’s why I encourage folks not to look too deeply into The Retaliators. It’s a fool’s errand if ever there were.
Instead, just enjoy it as a good old-fashioned testament to guilt-free wickedness. It’s a mildly daring ‘what would you do if’ story, and it works very well on that level. Sure, you may find some secret message hidden in here, but I’m likely able to dissect it with footage from the very next sequence … or the one thereafter … or maybe even the one when Bishop uses his youngest daughter’s bracelet to pluck the eye out of his would-be assassin. Do you really think that sequence has deeper meaning? Or is it not just the coolest thing you’ve watched today? Or how about that murder-by-wood-chipper moment? You think the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences wants to craft a special recognition Oscar for that scene or just let it be the crowd-pleasing, blood-spurting finish it was likely meant to be?
If anything, The Retaliators biggest problem might very well be that it doesn’t quite know what it truly wants to be in its first half, almost as if the storytellers were hedging their bets with a protracted set-up hoping to rope more folks into their seats before the ample and obvious bloodlust begins. Once it does, we’re in pure Horror territory here, so any resemblance to highbrow didactic filmmaking has really gone out the window. It’s much closer to a pop culture fairy tale – with wicked pulp sensibilities – than it is a (ahem) “meaningful viewing experience.”
Think what you will, but folks didn’t flock to repeat showings of The Exorcist (1973) to learn how to perform an exorcism or confront their demons. They did it to be scared sh#tless vicariously.
Nothin’ wrong with that.
Recommended.
Hey now: I’m not going to get into a debate with anyone over what subject matter might be best left alone, but I will say that The Retaliators revels in the excesses of its own creation very effectively from the outset right up until its fitting last scene. Though some might try to attach greater meaning to the gratuitousness, I find it refreshing when storytellers occasionally strip away all of the pretense of ‘being about something’ and, instead, just swing for the fences with entertainment. I didn’t learn anything from this one. I just marveled at its bloody-knuckled efficiency.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Better Noise Films provided me with complimentary screener access to The Retaliators (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.
- Published on
As I’ve always argued, I can appreciate any creative team’s desire to try something different. Still, I’ve always found it hard to know exactly what the phrase might inevitably mean.
In the case of AMC’s The Walking Dead spin-off – Tales Of The Walking Dead – I was doubly unsure of what to expect. There wasn’t an awful lot of pre-release chatter online or in the entertainment trades other than the announcement here and there that the property would seek to tell stand-alone stories within the wider universe created by the original program. Some of these promised to tie to established characters, and some were intended as more standalone trips set in familiar locales but involving new places and names. Perhaps playing their cards close to their chest, Tales’ showrunners hoped to use ‘the element of surprise’ more than anything else and let the chips fall where they may when these new mini-movies were screened for the public on the cable network.
For what that was worth, I thought it all sounded promising, especially since I soured on Fear The Walking Dead after two seasons of meandering for a collective point and didn’t much care for The Walking Dead: Worlds Beyond even in the slightest. (I did make it through that show’s first season but only hung on for two episodes in its second and final series.) Maybe – just maybe – these showrunners could turn some all-new stones in these Tales. Maybe they could wash the stink of death from the undead (pun intended), and they could show us the same zest to rush headfirst into danger like The Walking Dead in early trips into the Apocalypse. Certainly, the format alone offered up a bit of hope knowing that single-hour-outings might very well push these storytellers to new, unsung heights.
Well …
We’re five episodes in, and I’m considerably underwhelmed, to say the least. This show has hardly brought new life to rotting corpses. Hell, even its corpses aren’t that much rot.
Now, in fairness, it isn’t as if all of these stories have been a waste of their hour-plus run-time.
They’ve delivered a few laughs in a few places, and they even hinted at ‘End Times’ romance being possible in interesting ways. Heck, the fourth episode even toyed with the idea that perhaps even zombies are a species requiring further legitimate scientific inquiry; accept that premise or not, it’s still something we hadn’t quite seen before from this franchise. While it’s understandably challenging to hit home runs right out of the gate, by the fifth episode in (out of a paltry six comprising a whole “season”) I think the audiences have a right to expect some measure of quality. But “Davon,” the title of said installment, felt like some community college effort crafted by a bunch of film students who were inspired by The Walking Dead to try and do their own on a community college budget … and that’s downright insulting.
In the case of AMC’s The Walking Dead spin-off – Tales Of The Walking Dead – I was doubly unsure of what to expect. There wasn’t an awful lot of pre-release chatter online or in the entertainment trades other than the announcement here and there that the property would seek to tell stand-alone stories within the wider universe created by the original program. Some of these promised to tie to established characters, and some were intended as more standalone trips set in familiar locales but involving new places and names. Perhaps playing their cards close to their chest, Tales’ showrunners hoped to use ‘the element of surprise’ more than anything else and let the chips fall where they may when these new mini-movies were screened for the public on the cable network.
For what that was worth, I thought it all sounded promising, especially since I soured on Fear The Walking Dead after two seasons of meandering for a collective point and didn’t much care for The Walking Dead: Worlds Beyond even in the slightest. (I did make it through that show’s first season but only hung on for two episodes in its second and final series.) Maybe – just maybe – these showrunners could turn some all-new stones in these Tales. Maybe they could wash the stink of death from the undead (pun intended), and they could show us the same zest to rush headfirst into danger like The Walking Dead in early trips into the Apocalypse. Certainly, the format alone offered up a bit of hope knowing that single-hour-outings might very well push these storytellers to new, unsung heights.
Well …
We’re five episodes in, and I’m considerably underwhelmed, to say the least. This show has hardly brought new life to rotting corpses. Hell, even its corpses aren’t that much rot.
Now, in fairness, it isn’t as if all of these stories have been a waste of their hour-plus run-time.
They’ve delivered a few laughs in a few places, and they even hinted at ‘End Times’ romance being possible in interesting ways. Heck, the fourth episode even toyed with the idea that perhaps even zombies are a species requiring further legitimate scientific inquiry; accept that premise or not, it’s still something we hadn’t quite seen before from this franchise. While it’s understandably challenging to hit home runs right out of the gate, by the fifth episode in (out of a paltry six comprising a whole “season”) I think the audiences have a right to expect some measure of quality. But “Davon,” the title of said installment, felt like some community college effort crafted by a bunch of film students who were inspired by The Walking Dead to try and do their own on a community college budget … and that’s downright insulting.
Davon's biggest problem?
Well, for starters, there really aren’t any Dead in it.
Even worse: it doesn’t even need to be set in TWD universe!
Though we do catch sight of a walker here and there (up until the mystery’s big reveal in the final moments, in which we get a pair of fresh ones), I was unsure of what to make of them because the story is woven through the eyes of our narrator, Davon, who’s admittedly suffering a pretty massive head wound. Furthermore, he admits that his memories come-and-go (likely tied to said wound), and this clearly establishes him as a dubious source of information. In other words, he may not be deliberately dishonest with what he tells us; rather, he may be confused and completely misremembering these events, all with some narrative attempt to keep us focused away from the story’s central mystery … which might be one, two, or a whole series of murders … it just is never clear …
… which is the result of – ahem – bad writing.
(Sorry, folks, but sometimes you have to call a strike “a strike,” and this was damn near a strike-out.)
IMDB.com attributes to script to Channing Powell, a name that should be familiar both to viewers as well as the breadth of this television universe. Indeed, he’s crafted a few dozen scripts across both The Walking Dead and Fear The Walking Dead as well as serving as a producer on both. Given those credentials I think it’s fair to have expected something a bit less muddled than what “Davon” is, so I’m chalking up this definitive misfire to the fact that the director and crew wanted to mirror their lead’s cognitive dissonance stylistically. It’s an arthouse attempt to deliver something different. Either that, or I’ve absolutely no idea why anyone thought this particular work was N-E-C-E-S-S-A-R-Y at this juncture within the wider TWD universe. It serves no purpose other than to fill out a commitment, making it filler.
Because there was so very little focus on these zombies (“but why?), I can’t help but wonder if “Davon” may’ve been a rejected screenplay someone pulled out of a drawer, dusted it off, stuck in a few of the TWD’s usual suspects (i.e. walkers) and proclaimed, “Here, let’s film this!” Some of its creative choices felt less like they were part of a truly original story but more like an attempt to put a facelift on the drafted elements (i.e. the setting being a French-speaking community in Maine … again “but why?”) in hopes that audiences might not notice the seams. Absolutely nothing about this chapter felt understandably organic to TWD’s universe as established – much less as we’ve come to know it after ten seasons on-air – and I’m absolutely gobsmacked how anyone involved in the production of this show might have concluded “Davon” was a good idea.
Different for different's sake isn't a foundation upon which to build any show, especially when the script ignores almost entirely that fact that folks are drawn to the property for your corpses. Davon felt more like a cop-out ... as I hate chalking up every detriment up to a singularly bad idea.
Congratulations, Tales Of The Walking Dead! You’ve hit a new low.
-- EZ
Well, for starters, there really aren’t any Dead in it.
Even worse: it doesn’t even need to be set in TWD universe!
Though we do catch sight of a walker here and there (up until the mystery’s big reveal in the final moments, in which we get a pair of fresh ones), I was unsure of what to make of them because the story is woven through the eyes of our narrator, Davon, who’s admittedly suffering a pretty massive head wound. Furthermore, he admits that his memories come-and-go (likely tied to said wound), and this clearly establishes him as a dubious source of information. In other words, he may not be deliberately dishonest with what he tells us; rather, he may be confused and completely misremembering these events, all with some narrative attempt to keep us focused away from the story’s central mystery … which might be one, two, or a whole series of murders … it just is never clear …
… which is the result of – ahem – bad writing.
(Sorry, folks, but sometimes you have to call a strike “a strike,” and this was damn near a strike-out.)
IMDB.com attributes to script to Channing Powell, a name that should be familiar both to viewers as well as the breadth of this television universe. Indeed, he’s crafted a few dozen scripts across both The Walking Dead and Fear The Walking Dead as well as serving as a producer on both. Given those credentials I think it’s fair to have expected something a bit less muddled than what “Davon” is, so I’m chalking up this definitive misfire to the fact that the director and crew wanted to mirror their lead’s cognitive dissonance stylistically. It’s an arthouse attempt to deliver something different. Either that, or I’ve absolutely no idea why anyone thought this particular work was N-E-C-E-S-S-A-R-Y at this juncture within the wider TWD universe. It serves no purpose other than to fill out a commitment, making it filler.
Because there was so very little focus on these zombies (“but why?), I can’t help but wonder if “Davon” may’ve been a rejected screenplay someone pulled out of a drawer, dusted it off, stuck in a few of the TWD’s usual suspects (i.e. walkers) and proclaimed, “Here, let’s film this!” Some of its creative choices felt less like they were part of a truly original story but more like an attempt to put a facelift on the drafted elements (i.e. the setting being a French-speaking community in Maine … again “but why?”) in hopes that audiences might not notice the seams. Absolutely nothing about this chapter felt understandably organic to TWD’s universe as established – much less as we’ve come to know it after ten seasons on-air – and I’m absolutely gobsmacked how anyone involved in the production of this show might have concluded “Davon” was a good idea.
Different for different's sake isn't a foundation upon which to build any show, especially when the script ignores almost entirely that fact that folks are drawn to the property for your corpses. Davon felt more like a cop-out ... as I hate chalking up every detriment up to a singularly bad idea.
Congratulations, Tales Of The Walking Dead! You’ve hit a new low.
-- EZ
- Published on
I have always said – always – if your picture makes me stop and think, then you’ve lost a battle.
This isn’t to suggest that I prefer pictures of substance or vice versa. (Seriously, I love all kinds of flicks, from the silly to the profound.) My point is that everything that transpires cinematically between the opening and closing credits needs to both have and follow some intrinsic logic. There must be a path to follow, and that path should make perfect sense. If something causes me to pause intellectually – to question how that could, would, or should happen – then I, as a viewer, have been effectively pulled out of the vicarious experience you’ve created. I’m no longer along for the ride, as they say, and I’m on my own unofficial pit stop trying to make sense of what I just saw for logic’s sake. Yes, that may be the wrong framework with which to view a work of fiction, but it’s just how my brain is wired.
So, yes, when regular wooden tables defy the laws of nature and can somehow be shown to either stop or deflect bullets shot at point-blank range, I’m inclined to take one of those aforementioned breaks. Sadly, this happens many, many times throughout Drive (1997), one of the less sane actioners to come out of the late 1990’s. By the time this buddy movie hit silver screens, I think the celebrity pair-up trend had lost a bit of its steam, so maybe that kept some from exploring its lesser delights. Though I suspect everyone in it has done better work, perhaps they collectively never had as much fun as they did when stars and fists collided, kicks were launched, bullets were fired, and a fake rocket nearly blasted into the sky during the making of this bizarre road trip.
(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:
“When special agent Toby Wong is fitted with an advanced bio device giving him superhuman powers he fears that he and the new technology will be exploited for ill gain when the Chinese government takes back control of Hong Kong. Fleeing to San Francisco he plans to sell the device to a company in Los Angeles but when he teams up with down on his luck singer Malik he finds himself being pursued by ruthless assassin Madison and his band of mercenaries.”
I’ve never been much of a fan – casual nor hardcore – of Hong Kong storytelling sensibilities.
This isn’t to suggest that I prefer pictures of substance or vice versa. (Seriously, I love all kinds of flicks, from the silly to the profound.) My point is that everything that transpires cinematically between the opening and closing credits needs to both have and follow some intrinsic logic. There must be a path to follow, and that path should make perfect sense. If something causes me to pause intellectually – to question how that could, would, or should happen – then I, as a viewer, have been effectively pulled out of the vicarious experience you’ve created. I’m no longer along for the ride, as they say, and I’m on my own unofficial pit stop trying to make sense of what I just saw for logic’s sake. Yes, that may be the wrong framework with which to view a work of fiction, but it’s just how my brain is wired.
So, yes, when regular wooden tables defy the laws of nature and can somehow be shown to either stop or deflect bullets shot at point-blank range, I’m inclined to take one of those aforementioned breaks. Sadly, this happens many, many times throughout Drive (1997), one of the less sane actioners to come out of the late 1990’s. By the time this buddy movie hit silver screens, I think the celebrity pair-up trend had lost a bit of its steam, so maybe that kept some from exploring its lesser delights. Though I suspect everyone in it has done better work, perhaps they collectively never had as much fun as they did when stars and fists collided, kicks were launched, bullets were fired, and a fake rocket nearly blasted into the sky during the making of this bizarre road trip.
(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:
“When special agent Toby Wong is fitted with an advanced bio device giving him superhuman powers he fears that he and the new technology will be exploited for ill gain when the Chinese government takes back control of Hong Kong. Fleeing to San Francisco he plans to sell the device to a company in Los Angeles but when he teams up with down on his luck singer Malik he finds himself being pursued by ruthless assassin Madison and his band of mercenaries.”
I’ve never been much of a fan – casual nor hardcore – of Hong Kong storytelling sensibilities.
Essentially, there are some great action pictures that have come down the pike leaning heavy on gunplay, moderately on plot, and heartily on fisticuffs; but where I usually draw the line is when the mayhem tends to defy conventional logic and/or the laws of physics. Running, jumping, and kicking faster than a speeding bullet might work well for DC Comics’ ultimate man of steel, but that kind of frenetic energy still eludes we ordinary mortals. But when a storyteller expects me to believe that our hero can run into a line-up of blazing pistols with only a wooden table as a shield – having that table block all of the fired bullets – I tend to check out intellectually very early.
That’s the case with Drive, an occasionally clever SciFi-lite potboiler written by Scott Phillips and directed by special effects wizard Steve Wang. The film cleverly incorporates some fantastic ideas –Dacascos’ ‘ultimate warrior’ is fueled by a new generation of biological mechanics that give him incredible speed and strength, and there may or may not be a conspiracy behind the Chinese government’s desire to control its ongoing development – along with the proven Hollywood formula of the quintessential buddy picture. IMDB.com reports that this was Phillips motion picture debut (he’d go on eventually to a creative stint aboard Fantasy’s Kamen Rider: Dragon Knight), so it’s kinda/sorta hard to blame him for all of the narrative hiccups here, though I’ve no doubt he earned his fair share of the blame. Wang – as the picture’s grand marshal – more likely put Drive into high gear with the extended focus on fight sequences; many of them are quite good, displaying a prowess for using an actor’s physical stature to achieve maximum velocity.
With this being the case, Mark Dacascos makes for a compelling lead. As our good guy Toby Wong, he uses his good looks and chop-socky know-how to both get into and out of most of the chaos, though I’d argue he could’ve used a bit more charm along the way. (Some of his delivery is a bit wooden, at times.) Thankfully, producers paired him up with funnyman Kadeem Hardison; and their screen partnership does go a long way toward smoothing over some of the yarn’s illogical road bumps. Like all good collaborations, they’re better when they’re together – bigger, stronger, faster – so the script puts them through their paces after the characteristically haphazard courtship.
Alas, the biggest roadblock to enjoying this particular road trip is also what makes fans of traditional Hong Kong storytelling go gaga: the story is more of an excuse to stage from elaborate fight sequences than it ever is to … well … really tell a tale. Locations – like a tight motel room, an oceanfront tavern, or a nearby automotive garage – are utilized to add ‘depth’ to the various gun and fist battles (instead of serving as violence growing organically out of these slim plot points). Clearly, Wang knew what he wanted to deliver – namely as excuse for more gunplay and throwdowns – and fans of this kind of thing lap it up without wondering just how such sequences could possibly play out in reality. Literal characterization doesn’t matter, not when characters only show up to exchange blows … which happens at exactly the pace the formula requires.
How can I be so sure?
That’s the case with Drive, an occasionally clever SciFi-lite potboiler written by Scott Phillips and directed by special effects wizard Steve Wang. The film cleverly incorporates some fantastic ideas –Dacascos’ ‘ultimate warrior’ is fueled by a new generation of biological mechanics that give him incredible speed and strength, and there may or may not be a conspiracy behind the Chinese government’s desire to control its ongoing development – along with the proven Hollywood formula of the quintessential buddy picture. IMDB.com reports that this was Phillips motion picture debut (he’d go on eventually to a creative stint aboard Fantasy’s Kamen Rider: Dragon Knight), so it’s kinda/sorta hard to blame him for all of the narrative hiccups here, though I’ve no doubt he earned his fair share of the blame. Wang – as the picture’s grand marshal – more likely put Drive into high gear with the extended focus on fight sequences; many of them are quite good, displaying a prowess for using an actor’s physical stature to achieve maximum velocity.
With this being the case, Mark Dacascos makes for a compelling lead. As our good guy Toby Wong, he uses his good looks and chop-socky know-how to both get into and out of most of the chaos, though I’d argue he could’ve used a bit more charm along the way. (Some of his delivery is a bit wooden, at times.) Thankfully, producers paired him up with funnyman Kadeem Hardison; and their screen partnership does go a long way toward smoothing over some of the yarn’s illogical road bumps. Like all good collaborations, they’re better when they’re together – bigger, stronger, faster – so the script puts them through their paces after the characteristically haphazard courtship.
Alas, the biggest roadblock to enjoying this particular road trip is also what makes fans of traditional Hong Kong storytelling go gaga: the story is more of an excuse to stage from elaborate fight sequences than it ever is to … well … really tell a tale. Locations – like a tight motel room, an oceanfront tavern, or a nearby automotive garage – are utilized to add ‘depth’ to the various gun and fist battles (instead of serving as violence growing organically out of these slim plot points). Clearly, Wang knew what he wanted to deliver – namely as excuse for more gunplay and throwdowns – and fans of this kind of thing lap it up without wondering just how such sequences could possibly play out in reality. Literal characterization doesn’t matter, not when characters only show up to exchange blows … which happens at exactly the pace the formula requires.
How can I be so sure?
For example, Phillips’ script strongly suggests Hardison’s ‘Malik Brody’ is a struggling singer/songwriter. Indeed, when he’s introduced as a barfly in the set-up, we see him writing lyrics in a journal. Only a few moments later, he even asks Wong what he thinks of his work. But what happens late in the picture when our partners show up at an Apollo-mission-themed nightclub on karaoke night? Instead of giving Malik to chance to fill out his character and sing us a tune – maybe even letting him fulfill the dream he so aptly claimed to have in the opening – the flick as written instead lets Dacascos do the honors … to which he croons a song largely poking fun at his road show buddy.
See what I mean? Characterization doesn’t matter. Laughs do … and that largely kept Drive out of the fast lane a bit too consistently.
Drive (1997) was produced by Overseas FilmGroup and NEO Motion Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release is being coordinated via the reliable people at MVD Entertainment and 88 Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m not trained video expert, I thought this brand-new 4K scan – reported to be from the original camera negative – looked and sounded very solid from start-to-finish. (There was a slight dip in the audio levels at one point, but it only lasted for one sequence, making me assume it was some flaw in the original recording.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then behold:
Mildly recommended.
Drive isn’t as much a mess as its script clearly is, and that’s mostly because the picture is capably carried both on the shoulders of its main two players (Dacascos and Hardison) as well as their shared screen charm. Brittany Murphy shows up, curiously delivering only comic relief from an already funny feature, so I saw her contributions as damn near unnecessary. The equally talented Tracey Walter and John Pyper-Ferguson get wasted as stock villains with far too many tools in their mobile arsenal. (Really? A whip? Out of nowhere? Who takes a whip into a bar fight?) Still, there’s an audience for this schlock – you know who you are already – and I’ve no doubt they’ll jump at the chance to experience a viewing of this meager accomplishment. A bit goofy and more than a bit loony at times, Drive needed more ‘umph’ for this viewer.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at 88 Films provided me with a complimentary Ultra HD Blu-ray of Drive (1997) 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
See what I mean? Characterization doesn’t matter. Laughs do … and that largely kept Drive out of the fast lane a bit too consistently.
Drive (1997) was produced by Overseas FilmGroup and NEO Motion Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release is being coordinated via the reliable people at MVD Entertainment and 88 Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m not trained video expert, I thought this brand-new 4K scan – reported to be from the original camera negative – looked and sounded very solid from start-to-finish. (There was a slight dip in the audio levels at one point, but it only lasted for one sequence, making me assume it was some flaw in the original recording.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then behold:
- The collection offers up the original theatrical cut of the film (100 minutes) as well as an Extended Director’s Cut (118 minutes), with the Director’s Cut presented in full 2:35:1 aspect ratio (and it looks damn fabulous, if I do say so myself);
- Multiple audio track presentations so that you can find one that fits your entertainment needs;
- Audio commentary track with director Wang, fight choreographer Koichi Sakamoto, and stars Dacascos and Hardison;
- A few ‘making-of’ shorts
- A 45-minute ‘making-of’ documentary;
- Delected scenes;
- Cast and crew interviews (many of which are either repeats or extended visits already featured in the supporting shorts);
- The theatrical trailer; and
- Collectible artwork from artist Sam Gilbey.
Mildly recommended.
Drive isn’t as much a mess as its script clearly is, and that’s mostly because the picture is capably carried both on the shoulders of its main two players (Dacascos and Hardison) as well as their shared screen charm. Brittany Murphy shows up, curiously delivering only comic relief from an already funny feature, so I saw her contributions as damn near unnecessary. The equally talented Tracey Walter and John Pyper-Ferguson get wasted as stock villains with far too many tools in their mobile arsenal. (Really? A whip? Out of nowhere? Who takes a whip into a bar fight?) Still, there’s an audience for this schlock – you know who you are already – and I’ve no doubt they’ll jump at the chance to experience a viewing of this meager accomplishment. A bit goofy and more than a bit loony at times, Drive needed more ‘umph’ for this viewer.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at 88 Films provided me with a complimentary Ultra HD Blu-ray of Drive (1997) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
--EZ
- Published on
One of the more endearing traits about the movie business worldwide is that – if you like something and it makes money – then you can be assured that, in one shape or form, you’re going to see it again.
Now, it used to be that meant you’d merely pick up the home video release of your favorite flick so that you’d enjoy the convenience of throwing it on whenever you liked; but studios, producers, and storytellers long ago hatched a way to tap into your subconscious. Secretly, they all conspired to essentially remake what was popular, package it a bit differently, and whammo! This all-new film had an instant audience. Imagine that?
Of course, this never meant that these filmmakers would match the quality of the original. What it meant logically is that they were merely trying to separate you from your money – be that at the box office or the video store (when those existed). Nowadays, they’re doing this to a small degree in the world of competing streaming platforms, but even Netflix’s overlords have stated they’re still in pursuit of ‘their version’ of a cornerstone Science Fiction and Fantasy franchise like Star Trek, Star Wars, or Battlestar Galactica. They know that it pays to be in space.
But back in the day you could expect video knockoffs of every box office hit there was … and though I’ve yet to see all of Robowar (1988) I give you my word based entirely on what I have seen this was intended to be a Predator (1987) copycat. If you don’t believe me, then just do your own Google search for images from the flick, and you’ll see that director Bruno Mattei couldn’t have squeezed any more testosterone into the snaps if he had tried.
For those who don’t know the name, Mattei was an Italian director whose storytelling sensibilities tended to lean strongly in the direction of copying the popular trends of the day. His Hell Of The Living Dead (1980) was, mostly, little more than George Romero’s Dawn Of The Dead (1978) but in a looser package. A perusal of his resume of titles on any film website will show that he dabbled largely in Horror, Science Fiction, and general exploitation yarns as well, but an argument could be made that these pictures often adapted a thread of a recent box office hit and then – ahem – dialed that element up to eleven. You know what they say? Imitation is the best form of flattery around.
Not even a deep dive Robowar indicates that Mattei’s screenwriters – Claudio Fragasso and Rossella Drudi – drank from the same trough: IMDB.com’s provided story synopsis even states that the film is a “clone/mix of Predator, Rambo, and RoboCop” … so I think it’s safe to conclude all of this was invented precisely to look like it fit in the same universe, thereby convincing potential consumers to go ahead and consume it. But getting into the plot more specifically, here’s what Wikipedia.org has to say:
“Major Murphy Black (Reb Brown) leads a group of commandos through the jungles of an unnamed island, but unknown to all involved but Mascher (Mel Davison), they are being stalked by Mashcer’s robot invention, Omega-1. Over the protests of Mascher, the group first saves a volunteer hospital worker, Virgin (Catherine Hickland), from a band of guerrillas, then take out the hospital camp, killing all the guerillas there, also. At this point, the robot begins killing members of the commando group, one by one.”
There’s a bit more, but I’ll stop at this point. Anyone who has seen Predator can easily spot the similarities between the two films – i.e. a story involving an elite military unit; the rescue of a single female; the jungle setting; the stalking of the unit by the ‘predator’ – and I think the comparison is appropos.
Now, it used to be that meant you’d merely pick up the home video release of your favorite flick so that you’d enjoy the convenience of throwing it on whenever you liked; but studios, producers, and storytellers long ago hatched a way to tap into your subconscious. Secretly, they all conspired to essentially remake what was popular, package it a bit differently, and whammo! This all-new film had an instant audience. Imagine that?
Of course, this never meant that these filmmakers would match the quality of the original. What it meant logically is that they were merely trying to separate you from your money – be that at the box office or the video store (when those existed). Nowadays, they’re doing this to a small degree in the world of competing streaming platforms, but even Netflix’s overlords have stated they’re still in pursuit of ‘their version’ of a cornerstone Science Fiction and Fantasy franchise like Star Trek, Star Wars, or Battlestar Galactica. They know that it pays to be in space.
But back in the day you could expect video knockoffs of every box office hit there was … and though I’ve yet to see all of Robowar (1988) I give you my word based entirely on what I have seen this was intended to be a Predator (1987) copycat. If you don’t believe me, then just do your own Google search for images from the flick, and you’ll see that director Bruno Mattei couldn’t have squeezed any more testosterone into the snaps if he had tried.
For those who don’t know the name, Mattei was an Italian director whose storytelling sensibilities tended to lean strongly in the direction of copying the popular trends of the day. His Hell Of The Living Dead (1980) was, mostly, little more than George Romero’s Dawn Of The Dead (1978) but in a looser package. A perusal of his resume of titles on any film website will show that he dabbled largely in Horror, Science Fiction, and general exploitation yarns as well, but an argument could be made that these pictures often adapted a thread of a recent box office hit and then – ahem – dialed that element up to eleven. You know what they say? Imitation is the best form of flattery around.
Not even a deep dive Robowar indicates that Mattei’s screenwriters – Claudio Fragasso and Rossella Drudi – drank from the same trough: IMDB.com’s provided story synopsis even states that the film is a “clone/mix of Predator, Rambo, and RoboCop” … so I think it’s safe to conclude all of this was invented precisely to look like it fit in the same universe, thereby convincing potential consumers to go ahead and consume it. But getting into the plot more specifically, here’s what Wikipedia.org has to say:
“Major Murphy Black (Reb Brown) leads a group of commandos through the jungles of an unnamed island, but unknown to all involved but Mascher (Mel Davison), they are being stalked by Mashcer’s robot invention, Omega-1. Over the protests of Mascher, the group first saves a volunteer hospital worker, Virgin (Catherine Hickland), from a band of guerrillas, then take out the hospital camp, killing all the guerillas there, also. At this point, the robot begins killing members of the commando group, one by one.”
There’s a bit more, but I’ll stop at this point. Anyone who has seen Predator can easily spot the similarities between the two films – i.e. a story involving an elite military unit; the rescue of a single female; the jungle setting; the stalking of the unit by the ‘predator’ – and I think the comparison is appropos.
Just because a film is an obvious re-invention of something that’s come before isn’t a bad thing. Again, knowing what we know about flattery and imitation, I think there’s nothing wrong with drawing some measure of inspiration from a popular original so long as you kinda/sorta go in a different direction or do something a bit fresh and/or new with the material. Technically, that’s what showrunners do with each new Star Trek show – they tap the original vein but (hopefully) work very hard to enrich what gets added to the body. As I’ve only seen snippets of Robowar (passages that have been posted online and elsewhere), I can’t conclude if the Mattei effort does that … so I’ll just leave that topic alone.
In any event, I’ve done a little research on it; and I do see that, in 2019, Severin Films did a limited-edition release of Robowar under their banner. (It looks like there was also a corresponding regular DVD release done simultaneously, so I’m a bit unclear as to whether or not that was also ‘limited’ in number.) Both versions are showing available for purchase on Amazon.com – for those wishing to pick up a copy and explore further. Additionally, it is available for streaming rental on Amazon.com, and I do see it posted as ‘viewable’ elsewhere for serious parties.
Interestingly enough, the title has a good rating on Amazon.com (a solid four-star out of 116 ratings as of today’s date) but a middling-to-poor score on IMDB.com (4.3 of 10.0 averaged from 1.2K viewers). Given those differences, I suppose this is a film best described as “buyer beware.”
-- EZ
Post script:
Technically, the film premiered somewheres and sometime in Italy in 1988. That date, at present, appears lost to history. As is my policy on SciFiHistory.Net, I use the next release date in lieu of the original; and Robowar premiered on this day in 1989 in Japan.
In any event, I’ve done a little research on it; and I do see that, in 2019, Severin Films did a limited-edition release of Robowar under their banner. (It looks like there was also a corresponding regular DVD release done simultaneously, so I’m a bit unclear as to whether or not that was also ‘limited’ in number.) Both versions are showing available for purchase on Amazon.com – for those wishing to pick up a copy and explore further. Additionally, it is available for streaming rental on Amazon.com, and I do see it posted as ‘viewable’ elsewhere for serious parties.
Interestingly enough, the title has a good rating on Amazon.com (a solid four-star out of 116 ratings as of today’s date) but a middling-to-poor score on IMDB.com (4.3 of 10.0 averaged from 1.2K viewers). Given those differences, I suppose this is a film best described as “buyer beware.”
-- EZ
Post script:
Technically, the film premiered somewheres and sometime in Italy in 1988. That date, at present, appears lost to history. As is my policy on SciFiHistory.Net, I use the next release date in lieu of the original; and Robowar premiered on this day in 1989 in Japan.