- Published on
Oh, the things we do for science! And for love!
Well, well, well. Much has been written about writer/director David Cronenberg's use of body horror throughout his professional career; but -- for what my opinion is worth -- he's never been as accessible as he was when he crafted his legendary remake of The Fly. From an entirely scientific point of view, he rather deftly constructs a parable chiefly centered around the moral 'be careful what you wish for' and then layers on the prosthetics to ample supply. As others have remarked, yes, it's quite gross in its depiction of a man transforming into a man-sized fly -- along with all of the insect's rather disgusting traits -- but also retains a curious wholesomeness as it relates to the central couple's love story. Stranger things have happened.
Though I could be wrong, I think The Fly also really gave actor Jeff Goldblum his first really big break-out opportunity to show the entire world what he was capable of as a talent. The story evolves so carefully across its 90+ minutes, and Goldblum's performance does as well ... but all the time there's this wide-eyed innocence playing as a curious undercurrent ... almost like a child losing its innocence as it descends (or is that ascends?) into the most bizarre adulthood imagineable. So very, very tragic.
Geena Davis also gave a fabulous breakout performance. Like Goldblum, she was given a series of understandable and achieveable 'beats' to follow in an arc that viewers could understand and empathize with. The lovebirds last moments together are indeed heartbreaking, and Science Fiction has worked very hard to copy such intensity even today.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A brilliant but eccentric scientist begins to transform into a giant man/fly hybrid after one of his experiments goes horribly wrong."
Well, well, well. Much has been written about writer/director David Cronenberg's use of body horror throughout his professional career; but -- for what my opinion is worth -- he's never been as accessible as he was when he crafted his legendary remake of The Fly. From an entirely scientific point of view, he rather deftly constructs a parable chiefly centered around the moral 'be careful what you wish for' and then layers on the prosthetics to ample supply. As others have remarked, yes, it's quite gross in its depiction of a man transforming into a man-sized fly -- along with all of the insect's rather disgusting traits -- but also retains a curious wholesomeness as it relates to the central couple's love story. Stranger things have happened.
Though I could be wrong, I think The Fly also really gave actor Jeff Goldblum his first really big break-out opportunity to show the entire world what he was capable of as a talent. The story evolves so carefully across its 90+ minutes, and Goldblum's performance does as well ... but all the time there's this wide-eyed innocence playing as a curious undercurrent ... almost like a child losing its innocence as it descends (or is that ascends?) into the most bizarre adulthood imagineable. So very, very tragic.
Geena Davis also gave a fabulous breakout performance. Like Goldblum, she was given a series of understandable and achieveable 'beats' to follow in an arc that viewers could understand and empathize with. The lovebirds last moments together are indeed heartbreaking, and Science Fiction has worked very hard to copy such intensity even today.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A brilliant but eccentric scientist begins to transform into a giant man/fly hybrid after one of his experiments goes horribly wrong."
As studios are sadly compelled to do, the suits pushed for a sequel based entirely on the success of the original. As happens for me, I only have a vague recollection of watching it, thinking all the while about the power of the original truly being squandered by a cash grab.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the kind 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:
“Lost in a remote part of Eastern Europe, Sam is a foreigner, searching for his biological father Lagzdins where a minor road accident leads to a chance meeting with a pig-farmer’s daughter, who captures him and making a slave on the farm.”
If you find that synopsis a bit awkward – maybe even a bit foreign – then you’re likely beginning the journey with Sam (played by Kevin Janssens) on the right foot: he’s lost in this Bizarro countryside, and he curiously finds himself with only two (somewhat) friends to speak of and with … the lovely pig-farmer’s daughter Kirke (the fetching Laura Silina) and a wayward piglet searching for freedom and independence that somehow – magically – speaks his language … or a close facsimile … or is it all just Sam’s imagination?
What helps writer/director Aik Karapetian’s film keep moving is the fact that it’s all composed with narration: a kindly, old, omniscient voice guides the audience on its way through the cinematic highs and lows of Samuel’s travels, happily providing more than a bit of narrative context for those who might be missing the finer points. Like a good travel guide, the narrator sets up this somewhat chaotic and merry myth, all the while highlighting almost exactly what the audience needs to know about this odd assortment of rural townies who are all little more than one executable search warrant away from incarceration. It’s a damn good thing there are no police in the area!
Like with any good fairy tale, viewers are encouraged to not take this all that seriously, even though there’s more than a copious dribbling of violence, blood, and bondage to keep them distracted. Sam, in fact, spends much of the film looking like a farmhand extra in the most inappropriate BDSM porn perhaps conceived; but it’s all meant to be so lyrically lighthearted – yes, even the torture sequences – that there’s no fear of his authentically being harmed. Well, harmed to death, that is. He’s certainly battered, bruised, and bludgeoned, yet it’s all in the service to the magic of romance … which he inevitably finds and fulfills, though he’s unsure what to make of it all come the ending … as perhaps are we.
Still, you can’t dismiss Squeal’s charm.
Sam is meant to be anyone. He could be you. He could be me. With better abs, though.
From the big city, he finds himself the proverbial fish-out-of-water – the ultimate stranger in a strange land – once he arrives in the distant landscape. Though he’s on a quest, it isn’t one he won’t abandon given the right circumstances; when a forced union with Kirke, her father, and a drove of pigs presents itself, Sam will eventually come to understand that he can even look past imprisonment and forced servitude when it gives him purpose, something the script leads us to believe has been missing from the man’s life up to this point. As a character, he proves that perhaps the best foot forward into any of life’s biggest adventures is the one that stumbles into it; personal safety be damned when it comes down to matters of the heart overwhelming the machinations of the mind.
From the film’s IMDB.com citation:
“Lost in a remote part of Eastern Europe, Sam is a foreigner, searching for his biological father Lagzdins where a minor road accident leads to a chance meeting with a pig-farmer’s daughter, who captures him and making a slave on the farm.”
If you find that synopsis a bit awkward – maybe even a bit foreign – then you’re likely beginning the journey with Sam (played by Kevin Janssens) on the right foot: he’s lost in this Bizarro countryside, and he curiously finds himself with only two (somewhat) friends to speak of and with … the lovely pig-farmer’s daughter Kirke (the fetching Laura Silina) and a wayward piglet searching for freedom and independence that somehow – magically – speaks his language … or a close facsimile … or is it all just Sam’s imagination?
What helps writer/director Aik Karapetian’s film keep moving is the fact that it’s all composed with narration: a kindly, old, omniscient voice guides the audience on its way through the cinematic highs and lows of Samuel’s travels, happily providing more than a bit of narrative context for those who might be missing the finer points. Like a good travel guide, the narrator sets up this somewhat chaotic and merry myth, all the while highlighting almost exactly what the audience needs to know about this odd assortment of rural townies who are all little more than one executable search warrant away from incarceration. It’s a damn good thing there are no police in the area!
Like with any good fairy tale, viewers are encouraged to not take this all that seriously, even though there’s more than a copious dribbling of violence, blood, and bondage to keep them distracted. Sam, in fact, spends much of the film looking like a farmhand extra in the most inappropriate BDSM porn perhaps conceived; but it’s all meant to be so lyrically lighthearted – yes, even the torture sequences – that there’s no fear of his authentically being harmed. Well, harmed to death, that is. He’s certainly battered, bruised, and bludgeoned, yet it’s all in the service to the magic of romance … which he inevitably finds and fulfills, though he’s unsure what to make of it all come the ending … as perhaps are we.
Still, you can’t dismiss Squeal’s charm.
Sam is meant to be anyone. He could be you. He could be me. With better abs, though.
From the big city, he finds himself the proverbial fish-out-of-water – the ultimate stranger in a strange land – once he arrives in the distant landscape. Though he’s on a quest, it isn’t one he won’t abandon given the right circumstances; when a forced union with Kirke, her father, and a drove of pigs presents itself, Sam will eventually come to understand that he can even look past imprisonment and forced servitude when it gives him purpose, something the script leads us to believe has been missing from the man’s life up to this point. As a character, he proves that perhaps the best foot forward into any of life’s biggest adventures is the one that stumbles into it; personal safety be damned when it comes down to matters of the heart overwhelming the machinations of the mind.
And aren’t we all just going through this thing called life trying to find our purpose?
Despite a whole lot of reasons to dislike Squeal, it’s a film that’s hard not to embrace; and that’s a testament to Karapetian’s direction, his ensemble’s winning performances, and the overall tone of the journey. Indeed, the cinema has seen a tale told through the eyes of a pig before – rather famously in 1995’s Babe – and I’m sure that association between these two films was deliberate. Though they’re clearly constructed from two entirely disparate drawing boards, they could take place in the same universe … one being intended for children and the other (Sam’s) serving as the adult counterpart. Imagine that Babe grew up and found itself in a David Lynch film, and you get the idea.
Indeed, it’s all oinks and slop until maturity sets in.
My one major quibble – you knew I’d have at least one, didn’t you? As the film moves forward, it becomes increasingly difficult to bury Silina’s beauty under her drab clothing and dirty make-up. The actress has the face of a fashion model, so those of us watching closely at the outset can kinda/sorta guess the trajectory of her character: she’ll deliberately grow outwardly more lovely as she and Sam are drawn together. That predictability definitely works against the story here but given where it all winds up I’m uncertain if Karapetian had any other choice.
Squeal (aka Samuel’s Travels) (2021) was produced by Mistrus Media and Polar Bear. Publicity materials report that the film will enjoy a limited theatrical release in the United States along with digital play available on August 19th, 2022. As for the technical specifications? Clearly, no expense was spared in bringing this occasionally delightful and sometimes comical film to life, though I found a few of the night-time sequences to be a bit too dark (photographically) for my preferences. Minor quibble but still honest.
Recommended, but …
Don’t expect to make too much of Squeal beyond its obvious fairytale allusions being deconstructed when running headfirst into reality. Yes, yes, and yes: the symbolism, analogies, and metaphors of this pigs vs. peasants yarn might be rich beyond compare, but it’s still important to remember that fairy tales – in the end – aren’t real, as even writer/director Karapetian proves with his closing scene focused on Samuel’s inevitable quandary.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Good Deed Entertainment provided me with complimentary screening access to Squeal (2021) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Despite a whole lot of reasons to dislike Squeal, it’s a film that’s hard not to embrace; and that’s a testament to Karapetian’s direction, his ensemble’s winning performances, and the overall tone of the journey. Indeed, the cinema has seen a tale told through the eyes of a pig before – rather famously in 1995’s Babe – and I’m sure that association between these two films was deliberate. Though they’re clearly constructed from two entirely disparate drawing boards, they could take place in the same universe … one being intended for children and the other (Sam’s) serving as the adult counterpart. Imagine that Babe grew up and found itself in a David Lynch film, and you get the idea.
Indeed, it’s all oinks and slop until maturity sets in.
My one major quibble – you knew I’d have at least one, didn’t you? As the film moves forward, it becomes increasingly difficult to bury Silina’s beauty under her drab clothing and dirty make-up. The actress has the face of a fashion model, so those of us watching closely at the outset can kinda/sorta guess the trajectory of her character: she’ll deliberately grow outwardly more lovely as she and Sam are drawn together. That predictability definitely works against the story here but given where it all winds up I’m uncertain if Karapetian had any other choice.
Squeal (aka Samuel’s Travels) (2021) was produced by Mistrus Media and Polar Bear. Publicity materials report that the film will enjoy a limited theatrical release in the United States along with digital play available on August 19th, 2022. As for the technical specifications? Clearly, no expense was spared in bringing this occasionally delightful and sometimes comical film to life, though I found a few of the night-time sequences to be a bit too dark (photographically) for my preferences. Minor quibble but still honest.
Recommended, but …
Don’t expect to make too much of Squeal beyond its obvious fairytale allusions being deconstructed when running headfirst into reality. Yes, yes, and yes: the symbolism, analogies, and metaphors of this pigs vs. peasants yarn might be rich beyond compare, but it’s still important to remember that fairy tales – in the end – aren’t real, as even writer/director Karapetian proves with his closing scene focused on Samuel’s inevitable quandary.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Good Deed Entertainment provided me with complimentary screening access to Squeal (2021) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
In this space, I’ve mentioned before that my real introduction to the martial arts films of the 1970’s took place in the early 1980’s.
A small-town syndicated television station had clearly purchased an assortment of foreign import motion pictures that were heavily seeded with – I say this with no disrespect intended – all things ‘chopsocky.’ Drunken Master this, Bastard Swordsman that, Invincible Demons the other. Honestly, the titles were occasionally so damn bizarre I’d stick with it just because I wanted to know definitively how ‘the wife of the Deadly Master Beggar’ truly played into the plot. The station would run these things on Sunday afternoon – I think under the banner of ‘Kung Fu Theater’ – and I couldn’t help myself but be swept away in some of the most captivating fight choreography ever put to film.
Granted, there wasn’t an awful lot of it that I loved. The stories were pretty loose, and they often resembled one another in terms of narrative structure, much like the U.S. Westerns of a certain era did. Still, they were wonderful diversions from chores – and a good reason to put off homework for a few hours – so they kept my interest just enough to stay tuned.
So I may’ve seen Flying Guillotine Part II (aka Palace Carnage) back then. I know I’ve seen the dreaded ‘flying guillotine’ before – I have memories of a mild variation of the weapon – so I didn’t go into this viewing entirely unprepared. Yes, it’s a bit of a silly weapon when you think too long about it, but for me I think that’s the beauty of these bygone flicks: they worked best when you didn’t dwell on them and, instead, just got lost in all of the visual spectacle. Audiences certainly did back in their release in the native countries, so there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last 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:
“To fight against the evil emperor’s reign of terror, outlaw rebel Ma Teng joins a group of female freedom fighters; however, she soon finds herself embroiled in not just a battle with enemy forces but also with the group leader’s torn family loyalties …”
In all honesty, there’s a bit more plot to Flying Guillotine Part II than one might find in a standalone entry. (No, you need not possess working knowledge of the first feature involving said weapon to step into this one; the script for this installment gives you everything you truly need to know.) But if you set aside some of the other family relationships tied up in here – along with some of the internal palace shenanigans – you’re still left with what starts out, churns along, and ends up being a film of heavily choreographed showdowns between the forces of good and the forces of evil.
A small-town syndicated television station had clearly purchased an assortment of foreign import motion pictures that were heavily seeded with – I say this with no disrespect intended – all things ‘chopsocky.’ Drunken Master this, Bastard Swordsman that, Invincible Demons the other. Honestly, the titles were occasionally so damn bizarre I’d stick with it just because I wanted to know definitively how ‘the wife of the Deadly Master Beggar’ truly played into the plot. The station would run these things on Sunday afternoon – I think under the banner of ‘Kung Fu Theater’ – and I couldn’t help myself but be swept away in some of the most captivating fight choreography ever put to film.
Granted, there wasn’t an awful lot of it that I loved. The stories were pretty loose, and they often resembled one another in terms of narrative structure, much like the U.S. Westerns of a certain era did. Still, they were wonderful diversions from chores – and a good reason to put off homework for a few hours – so they kept my interest just enough to stay tuned.
So I may’ve seen Flying Guillotine Part II (aka Palace Carnage) back then. I know I’ve seen the dreaded ‘flying guillotine’ before – I have memories of a mild variation of the weapon – so I didn’t go into this viewing entirely unprepared. Yes, it’s a bit of a silly weapon when you think too long about it, but for me I think that’s the beauty of these bygone flicks: they worked best when you didn’t dwell on them and, instead, just got lost in all of the visual spectacle. Audiences certainly did back in their release in the native countries, so there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last 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:
“To fight against the evil emperor’s reign of terror, outlaw rebel Ma Teng joins a group of female freedom fighters; however, she soon finds herself embroiled in not just a battle with enemy forces but also with the group leader’s torn family loyalties …”
In all honesty, there’s a bit more plot to Flying Guillotine Part II than one might find in a standalone entry. (No, you need not possess working knowledge of the first feature involving said weapon to step into this one; the script for this installment gives you everything you truly need to know.) But if you set aside some of the other family relationships tied up in here – along with some of the internal palace shenanigans – you’re still left with what starts out, churns along, and ends up being a film of heavily choreographed showdowns between the forces of good and the forces of evil.
That’s what I mean when I imply that there’s little to distinguish so many flicks of this era from others with the notable exception being fighting styles (of which I’m no expert whatsoever) and the weaponry. In that regard, these flying guillotines are pretty incredible concoctions, giving the user the ability to decapitate any opponent by lassoing them with what looks to be an oversized cooking pot lid lined with heavily serrated blades. The end result once the head is trapped within? Why, it’s lopped right off, damn near bloodlessly!
Dick Cheney is salivating.
Naturally, some hero eventually masterminds a means with which to thwart such a vile weapon, and that’s wherein the whole ‘Part II’ comes into narrative play: the evil Emperor demands that his armorer re-design the guillotine in order to outsmart this new rebel, leading to the development of the – ahem – double flying guillotine (patent pending).
If you think therein starts and stops the film’s creativity, then you’d be amiss. At one point, Guillotine II felt like a near non-stop assault on the senses, with fights coming quickly one right after the other; but the pace does grind down just a bit in the second half when the tale truly shifts to one founded more on palace intrigue than the usual fisticuffs. Also, once the double flying guillotine gets introduced, our film’s hero must go back to his own drawing board and spend time figuring out a way to best this new version.
Before is said and done, however, heads do roll – just the way directors Kang Cheng and Shan Hua intended.
Flying Guillotine Part 2 (aka Palace Carnage) (1978) was produced by Shaw Brothers. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at 88 Films. As for the technical specifications? Again, I’m not a trained video expert, but I found the sights and sounds of this Limited Edition Release to be very, very good: there are a few sequences with some very obvious grain, and I suspect that’s tied to the source material.
As for the special features? Well …
Recommended.
As I said above, I was never so much a fan of traditional martial arts films as I was a basic consumer, but I can see some strong reasons to recommended Flying Guillotine Part II. First, it follows the basic formula. Second, it ups the ante on what was possible with one of filmdom’s most creative weapons. Third, it has a frenetic energy that never quite lets up (except in a few key places). While it might not be deserving a repeat viewing (so far as this consumer is concerned), it has the goods to be in your video line-up.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at 88 Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Flying Guillotine Part II (1978) 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
Dick Cheney is salivating.
Naturally, some hero eventually masterminds a means with which to thwart such a vile weapon, and that’s wherein the whole ‘Part II’ comes into narrative play: the evil Emperor demands that his armorer re-design the guillotine in order to outsmart this new rebel, leading to the development of the – ahem – double flying guillotine (patent pending).
If you think therein starts and stops the film’s creativity, then you’d be amiss. At one point, Guillotine II felt like a near non-stop assault on the senses, with fights coming quickly one right after the other; but the pace does grind down just a bit in the second half when the tale truly shifts to one founded more on palace intrigue than the usual fisticuffs. Also, once the double flying guillotine gets introduced, our film’s hero must go back to his own drawing board and spend time figuring out a way to best this new version.
Before is said and done, however, heads do roll – just the way directors Kang Cheng and Shan Hua intended.
Flying Guillotine Part 2 (aka Palace Carnage) (1978) was produced by Shaw Brothers. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at 88 Films. As for the technical specifications? Again, I’m not a trained video expert, but I found the sights and sounds of this Limited Edition Release to be very, very good: there are a few sequences with some very obvious grain, and I suspect that’s tied to the source material.
As for the special features? Well …
- The case comes with a cardboard slipcase/sleeve with original Hong Kong poster art.
- The limited edition includes a two-sided poster art which also ties in with the slipcase advertising.
- The limited edition includes a collector’s booklet with film stills and an essay by Barry Forshaw.
- The disc includes the film’s original theatrical trailer.
- Lastly, there’s an audio commentary provided by Asian cinema experts Mike Leeder and Arne Venema that – to put it mildly – is simply far too animated to glean much effective information (for those who like to learn things more than trivia). They’re both far too excited, speaking much too quickly, and talking over one another too much of the time for my tastes. It’s great that they’re thrilled … but I learned very little other than the fact that they’re thrilled. Disappointing.
Recommended.
As I said above, I was never so much a fan of traditional martial arts films as I was a basic consumer, but I can see some strong reasons to recommended Flying Guillotine Part II. First, it follows the basic formula. Second, it ups the ante on what was possible with one of filmdom’s most creative weapons. Third, it has a frenetic energy that never quite lets up (except in a few key places). While it might not be deserving a repeat viewing (so far as this consumer is concerned), it has the goods to be in your video line-up.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at 88 Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Flying Guillotine Part II (1978) 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
Where I -- as a writer and thinker on film -- endure the greatest controversy comes when I say something that in some way -- big or small -- readers think I'm disparaging one of their personal film favorites.
For example: "How can you say that you didn't like Event Horizon?"
Can you see where this is going?
My response is always this: "It isn't that I dislike Event Horizon. It's that Event Horizon says nothing to me."
Trust me when I say, kids, that at my age I'm well past the whole phenomenon of liking or disliking film. I think about film. I ruminate over what a film says to me and whether or not it speaks to me on some level. If something about the production tickles my fancy, then I'm the first person to say so ... and Event Horizon has some of the best production work of its kind that I'd match up against any film of its day. Performances? Why, they're also very good.
Where I stumble with it conceptually is that I'm not entirely certain anyone knew what it was ultimately about. That ambiguity -- especially given the fact that as a feature it's centered much more closely to Horror and Fantasy than it is true Science Fiction -- always pulls me out of the viewing experience, so much so that -- come the big finish -- I just am unmoved by it all.
Hey: if it's one of your personal favorites? Good for you. I'm glad that it spoke to you in some way. It just didn't break through to me. Sure, maybe that's a bit surprising, but that's why I'm always apt to remind folks I don't like the business side of recommending what films you should see. I'm far more comfortable telling you what I recommend or not. It's a fine line, but it's there.
In any event ...
Written for the screen by Philip Eisner and directed by Paul W.S. Anderson, the motion picture stars the great Sam Neill, the even greater Laurence Fishburne, the incredibly lovely Kathleen Quinlan (had a thing for her since the Twilight Zone movie), the infinitely watchable Joely Richardson, and a host of other familiar genre faces. Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
"A rescue crew investigates a spaceship that disappeared into a black hole and has now returned...with someone or something new on-board."
For example: "How can you say that you didn't like Event Horizon?"
Can you see where this is going?
My response is always this: "It isn't that I dislike Event Horizon. It's that Event Horizon says nothing to me."
Trust me when I say, kids, that at my age I'm well past the whole phenomenon of liking or disliking film. I think about film. I ruminate over what a film says to me and whether or not it speaks to me on some level. If something about the production tickles my fancy, then I'm the first person to say so ... and Event Horizon has some of the best production work of its kind that I'd match up against any film of its day. Performances? Why, they're also very good.
Where I stumble with it conceptually is that I'm not entirely certain anyone knew what it was ultimately about. That ambiguity -- especially given the fact that as a feature it's centered much more closely to Horror and Fantasy than it is true Science Fiction -- always pulls me out of the viewing experience, so much so that -- come the big finish -- I just am unmoved by it all.
Hey: if it's one of your personal favorites? Good for you. I'm glad that it spoke to you in some way. It just didn't break through to me. Sure, maybe that's a bit surprising, but that's why I'm always apt to remind folks I don't like the business side of recommending what films you should see. I'm far more comfortable telling you what I recommend or not. It's a fine line, but it's there.
In any event ...
Written for the screen by Philip Eisner and directed by Paul W.S. Anderson, the motion picture stars the great Sam Neill, the even greater Laurence Fishburne, the incredibly lovely Kathleen Quinlan (had a thing for her since the Twilight Zone movie), the infinitely watchable Joely Richardson, and a host of other familiar genre faces. Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
"A rescue crew investigates a spaceship that disappeared into a black hole and has now returned...with someone or something new on-board."
Also -- regarding my critical opinion of Event Horizon -- I will admit this: it's a film that's long been on my personal Bucket List to give a dedicated rewatch so that I can think a bit further about its circumstance and situations. As I said above, I've long thought its production detail was just damn incredible -- so much so that I sometimes do find it easy to overlook some plot shenanigans -- but I just couldn't resolve myself to thinking of it as anything more than a bloated ghost story ... and bloated ghost stories really interest me little.
Again: I'm glad you like it. I'm glad you love it. I love talking about it with folks who like and love it, so there. It do love its fans' collective enthusiasm about it. I have nothing but respect for those who think it's tops.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
Again: I'm glad you like it. I'm glad you love it. I love talking about it with folks who like and love it, so there. It do love its fans' collective enthusiasm about it. I have nothing but respect for those who think it's tops.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
From the files of virtual obscurity today comes a little something something: on this day back in the year 1983 (in the U.S.), Prisoners Of The Lost Universe broke out of their oppressive cell and ran wild. Well, cinematically, that is ...
Though I'm not completely certain on this point, I have a vague recollection of quite possibly seeing this one either on television and/or video back in the day. I say that because its top three stars -- Kay Lenz, Richard Hatch, and John Saxon -- were acting giants for those of us who trafficked in genre projects at that time, so I would've sought this one out in whatever venue possible. Hatch, of course, was put onto the SciFi/Fantasy map in the role of 'Capt. Apollo' from the original incarnation of Glen Larson's Battlestar Galactica; and I knew the lovely Kay Lenz from any variety of TV projects. John Saxon? Well, if you don't know the name John Saxon, then you just lost your Fanboy Card: you can turn in the sombrero on your way out the door.
Written (in part) and directed by Terry Marcel (also of 1980's Hawk The Slayer fame), the film also starred Peter O'Farrell, Ray Charleson, and Kenneth Hendel. According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"Three people are transported into a parallel reality, where they find they must use modern technology, but medieval weapons, in order to save the citizenry from a murderous warlord."
Though I'm not completely certain on this point, I have a vague recollection of quite possibly seeing this one either on television and/or video back in the day. I say that because its top three stars -- Kay Lenz, Richard Hatch, and John Saxon -- were acting giants for those of us who trafficked in genre projects at that time, so I would've sought this one out in whatever venue possible. Hatch, of course, was put onto the SciFi/Fantasy map in the role of 'Capt. Apollo' from the original incarnation of Glen Larson's Battlestar Galactica; and I knew the lovely Kay Lenz from any variety of TV projects. John Saxon? Well, if you don't know the name John Saxon, then you just lost your Fanboy Card: you can turn in the sombrero on your way out the door.
Written (in part) and directed by Terry Marcel (also of 1980's Hawk The Slayer fame), the film also starred Peter O'Farrell, Ray Charleson, and Kenneth Hendel. According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"Three people are transported into a parallel reality, where they find they must use modern technology, but medieval weapons, in order to save the citizenry from a murderous warlord."
IMDB.com reports that the film was chiefly produced by the pay cable network Showtime, and it aired on it for this release. (That's likely where I saw it.) The site also states that it did screen theatrically in other nations of the globe, so perhaps that's why this thing might have a small cult following. I did a search on the Information Superhighway, and I did find that there's a very, very, very pricey collectible-style DVD release of the title, so I'm guessing it may have the appeal for those in-the-know. IMDB.com also states that the movie was 'riffed' by the knuckleheads at Rifftrax.com, so there's that, as well, for folks who wish to partake.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
Though I might be paraphrasing a saying -- or perhaps even mashing a few together when I say this -- it's often been said that "While failure is an orphan, success breeds imitators."
That's never been truer than it is in the world of film, and the 1979 SciFi sleeper hit from the great 'land down under' (Australia) Mad Max -- along with its sequel The Road Warrior (1981) -- certainly can be credited with the birth of the modern post-Apocalypse thriller. The bombed-out desolation people by what remains of an uncivil society became reasonably commonplace at the cinemas and video stores of the 1980's -- largely thanks for Max and his adventures -- and film fanatics were treated to one road race after another over the next decade. Granted, there was a whole lot of trash -- both literally and figuratively on the screen -- left in mankind's wake, but those of us who appreciate the downside of humanity found equally as much treasure in the experiences.
Billed as a joint Spanish/Italian production, The Exterminators Of The Year 3000 roared onto movie screens on this day back in 1983 (in its native Italy). The feature's overall look clearly let audiences know right away that, indeed, it was inspired by the Aussie original. Written by the team of Elisa Briganti, Dardano Sacchetti, and José Truchado, the cinema spectacle was directed by Giuliano Carnimeo. Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
"In the year 3000, the Earth has been rendered a desert by nuclear war. A group of survivors goes in search of rare and valuable water, but standing in their way are the evil Exterminators, who live only to cause pain and misery."
That's never been truer than it is in the world of film, and the 1979 SciFi sleeper hit from the great 'land down under' (Australia) Mad Max -- along with its sequel The Road Warrior (1981) -- certainly can be credited with the birth of the modern post-Apocalypse thriller. The bombed-out desolation people by what remains of an uncivil society became reasonably commonplace at the cinemas and video stores of the 1980's -- largely thanks for Max and his adventures -- and film fanatics were treated to one road race after another over the next decade. Granted, there was a whole lot of trash -- both literally and figuratively on the screen -- left in mankind's wake, but those of us who appreciate the downside of humanity found equally as much treasure in the experiences.
Billed as a joint Spanish/Italian production, The Exterminators Of The Year 3000 roared onto movie screens on this day back in 1983 (in its native Italy). The feature's overall look clearly let audiences know right away that, indeed, it was inspired by the Aussie original. Written by the team of Elisa Briganti, Dardano Sacchetti, and José Truchado, the cinema spectacle was directed by Giuliano Carnimeo. Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
"In the year 3000, the Earth has been rendered a desert by nuclear war. A group of survivors goes in search of rare and valuable water, but standing in their way are the evil Exterminators, who live only to cause pain and misery."
Though I've not seen this one -- and I've really stumbled upon no really flattering review in my reading and research -- Exterminators is almost universally panned by those who did partake of its pleasures as being entirely derivative of the Mad Max universe (of its day) with the narrative exceptioni being that instead of pursuing gasoline everyone is after water. (Perhaps fuel isn't in as short supply as the Aussies would have us think?) Whatever the case may be, the film might best be christened as a huge case of 'buyer beware' ... which honestly could be ascribed to damn near any B-Movie of the area ... no matter its country of origin.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
- Published on
The name of Enzo G. Castellari certainly isn't unheard of 'round these parts.
In fact, if you're reading SciFiHistory.Net closely then you're likely to stumble across Castellari's name in several key places. This Italian director, producer, screenwriter, and actor is mentioned alongside some of the bigger B-Movies of his era, including such spectacles as The Humanoid (1979), 1990: The Bronx Warriors (1982), Warriors Of The Wasteland (1983), Escape From The Bronx (1983), and Sinbad Of The Seven Seas (1989). Once again, folks, I'll remind readers that simply mentioning these films isn't meant to be any testament to their quality; what I do here is celebrate these projects -- the good, the bad, and the ugly -- but I do tend to leave it up to you to make what you will of them. However, I'd be remiss if I failed to point out that it was Castellari's 1978 war classic The Inglorious Bastards that inspired auteur Quentin Tarantino to pick up the baton and make his own tidy little epic in the same vein.
So Castellari is certainly no lightweight, and his 1985 SciFi-lite flick Light Blast certainly enjoys its own share of supporters and detractors. Castellari script this one with frequent collaborator Tito Carpi, and he brought in some acting heavyweights as Erik Estrada, Ennio Girolami, and Peggy Rowe to round out his cast. Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
"A crazed physician invents a death ray and threatens to destroy San Francisco unless he is paid $10 million."
In fact, if you're reading SciFiHistory.Net closely then you're likely to stumble across Castellari's name in several key places. This Italian director, producer, screenwriter, and actor is mentioned alongside some of the bigger B-Movies of his era, including such spectacles as The Humanoid (1979), 1990: The Bronx Warriors (1982), Warriors Of The Wasteland (1983), Escape From The Bronx (1983), and Sinbad Of The Seven Seas (1989). Once again, folks, I'll remind readers that simply mentioning these films isn't meant to be any testament to their quality; what I do here is celebrate these projects -- the good, the bad, and the ugly -- but I do tend to leave it up to you to make what you will of them. However, I'd be remiss if I failed to point out that it was Castellari's 1978 war classic The Inglorious Bastards that inspired auteur Quentin Tarantino to pick up the baton and make his own tidy little epic in the same vein.
So Castellari is certainly no lightweight, and his 1985 SciFi-lite flick Light Blast certainly enjoys its own share of supporters and detractors. Castellari script this one with frequent collaborator Tito Carpi, and he brought in some acting heavyweights as Erik Estrada, Ennio Girolami, and Peggy Rowe to round out his cast. Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
"A crazed physician invents a death ray and threatens to destroy San Francisco unless he is paid $10 million."
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
Important Links:
Light Blast: A Primer On Ultimate Italian Action
Light Blast: Reviews And Overview
-- EZ
Important Links:
Light Blast: A Primer On Ultimate Italian Action
Light Blast: Reviews And Overview
- Published on
Full disclosure, folks: I don’t read nearly as much as I used to.
Now, that isn’t because I loathe reading because nothing could be further from the truth. While I wasn’t much of a fan back in my school days, I discovered a broader love for books of all types – Science Fiction, Fantasy, and fact-based stuff as well – in the mid-1980’s. Through a good portion of the 1990’s, in fact, I made it a personal goal to read at least two books a month but averaged closer to four. The reason I just don’t do it all that much these days is maintaining ‘the world’s greatest SciFi and Fantasy blog ever’ (my term, not yours) requires an awful lot of time and attention. Something had to give, and reading was it.
Still, every now and then, a little something something comes to me by request over the vast Information Superhighway that is the World Wide Web. If it sounds interesting enough, then I’ll take a gander. And author Dana Hammer’s request – a forthcoming tome curiously titled The Cannibal’s Guide To Fasting – really piqued my interest. She promised the Apocalypse and Horror – two things that go hand-in-hand ‘round these parts – along with a healthy dose of Humor. Throw in the SciFi angle along with some hints of Zombies and cannibalism … and I ask you: “What’s not to love?”
In all seriousness, I couldn’t pass it up. We connected online, and she forwarded me a copy for review purposes. I’m glad she did, even at the risk of me biting off a bit more than I could chew … (snicker snicker)
(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 book’s Amazon.com citation (though edited for length):
“Igor Fenenko, a former research scientist, is a scary, scary man. Not only is he a massive bodybuilder with a spider tattooed on his face, he has also been infected with Pestis Manducans – a viral cannibalism. Caught, disgraced, and sent to a ‘rehabilitation center,’ Igor is now forced to live in a government-mandated Containment Center. Igor’s brother, Karl, is also infested with Pestis. He lives down by the river, where he runs a cannibal rights group. But when Igor discovers their evil practices, he is forced to intervene. Aided and opposed by rich eccentrics who have their own agendas, Igor must use brains and muscles to find a cure while fighting the urge to turn brains and muscles into a delicious lunch.”
Anyone whose read much of what I’ve written over the years about Comedy in genre projects knows my particular stance on the topic: Comedy combined with anything – SciFi, Horror, Thrillers, etc. – is an exceedingly risky proposition. This isn’t because those subjects are not funny or the writer (or filmmaker) isn’t gifted at slinging jokes. Rather, what each individual viewer or reader finds funny varies widely, so I’m always urging caution when dabbling with such a mix. Occasionally, it’s done well, but far too often the humor doesn’t feel organic to the situation and characters; this produces the effect of slowing down the narrative (when the opposite is expected), and the meal is ruined. Just ruined.
Thankfully, that’s not the case with The Cannibal’s Guide To Fasting … and that’s largely because author Hammer rather smartly doesn’t revel in any of the ensuing hilarity. Her book moves with relative briskness (just over 250 pages), allowing her chief instigator – Igor Fenenko – the observational blurb here and there. The humor here isn’t the construct – there are no passages built around a punch line nor any soliloquy’s leading to some big laugh moment. Instead, what’s funny is often tied directly to the narration (the author’s voice) and the assembly of sometimes quirky characters who surround the tale’s hero. As such, that’s a very good choice because the novel works well on that level.
But …
… even stronger is the world-building that Hammer builds into these pages. There’s an effortlessness to the prose I didn’t expect, especially given the potential scope that’s outlined in the full synopsis (found at Amazon.com, in case you missed it).
Let me explain:
I typically avoid Fantasy novels because I find some of these reading absolutely exhausting with how much time a particular writer wants to spend in fleshing out each and every corner of the world itself. While I appreciate any readership that clings to every idea – every kingdom, every city, every borough, every street address, the color each character wears, etc. – I’ve always personally found those things plodding. Because I’ve always felt more inspired by a simple central story populated with smart and recognizable characters, I steer clear of things I believe are “getting into the weeds.” I hate weeds. I hate ‘em.
With Fasting, however, Hammer has a unique ability to give me just enough in each crafted moment to grasp what’s necessary for me to achieve and understanding … and then she’s back into the story. While there are the obligatory author’s ‘time-outs’ here and there – every writer wants and uses a chance to bring folks alive on the page – she avoids the “Read this, I’m writing here” sensibility that many other established voices tend to fall back on. Consequently, I felt like I was being encouraged to keep with Igor’s journey instead of falling into cracks exploring too deeply ideas of government and class and morality; those things are there, but they’re subservient to the plot and not vice versa.
Still, Fasting had a few shortcomings for me.
I never quite bought into these two brothers’ evolving adversarial relationship. Without spoiling some of the finer details (which I never do), it’s clear to me that Igor played the role of ‘brotherly protector’ in more ways than one in their past, so I struggled in accepting the full gamut of where and how the book ends. Some of this, I think, is also owed to brother Karl’s unstated characterization: as the physically and emotionally weaker of the two boys (from their youth), where exactly did this ‘high and mighty’ opinion of himself later in life come from? I don’t doubt that Hammer can answer these questions; my point is only that I can’t answer them easily on my own (without making a few guesses based on my own experience), and that weakens the ride. (Doesn’t destroy it; just weakens it.)
There are also a few small(ish) details – things about how gold coins are handled, how government and non-government agencies act, and whatnot – that pulled me out of the world here and there to minor degrees. These aren’t so much errors as they are, perhaps, differences of knowledge? Or opinion? For example, my understanding of antiquities – especially gold – is predicated on my few years of working in the banking industry; because a transaction in the book happens far easier than it would in reality – especially in this day and age – I get distracted by those events. True, these differences can always be tempered by saying, “Hey, this is the future, so the rules are different,” and that’s why I never make big deals out of them, only mention them in passing.
But Igor Fenenko certainly stays front-and-center in the engaging adventure. Sometimes bloody – but always pulpy, if you get my drift – his is a hard act to follow.
The Cannibal’s Guide To Fasting (2022) was written by Dana Hammer. The book is being published by Cinnabar Moth Publishing LLC, and it is scheduled to ‘street’ on September 6th. Amazon.com shows hardcover price at $31.99 and digital (Kindle) at $4.99.
Recommended.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the author and Book Sirens provided me with an advance reader copy of The Cannibal’s Guide To Fasting 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
Now, that isn’t because I loathe reading because nothing could be further from the truth. While I wasn’t much of a fan back in my school days, I discovered a broader love for books of all types – Science Fiction, Fantasy, and fact-based stuff as well – in the mid-1980’s. Through a good portion of the 1990’s, in fact, I made it a personal goal to read at least two books a month but averaged closer to four. The reason I just don’t do it all that much these days is maintaining ‘the world’s greatest SciFi and Fantasy blog ever’ (my term, not yours) requires an awful lot of time and attention. Something had to give, and reading was it.
Still, every now and then, a little something something comes to me by request over the vast Information Superhighway that is the World Wide Web. If it sounds interesting enough, then I’ll take a gander. And author Dana Hammer’s request – a forthcoming tome curiously titled The Cannibal’s Guide To Fasting – really piqued my interest. She promised the Apocalypse and Horror – two things that go hand-in-hand ‘round these parts – along with a healthy dose of Humor. Throw in the SciFi angle along with some hints of Zombies and cannibalism … and I ask you: “What’s not to love?”
In all seriousness, I couldn’t pass it up. We connected online, and she forwarded me a copy for review purposes. I’m glad she did, even at the risk of me biting off a bit more than I could chew … (snicker snicker)
(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 book’s Amazon.com citation (though edited for length):
“Igor Fenenko, a former research scientist, is a scary, scary man. Not only is he a massive bodybuilder with a spider tattooed on his face, he has also been infected with Pestis Manducans – a viral cannibalism. Caught, disgraced, and sent to a ‘rehabilitation center,’ Igor is now forced to live in a government-mandated Containment Center. Igor’s brother, Karl, is also infested with Pestis. He lives down by the river, where he runs a cannibal rights group. But when Igor discovers their evil practices, he is forced to intervene. Aided and opposed by rich eccentrics who have their own agendas, Igor must use brains and muscles to find a cure while fighting the urge to turn brains and muscles into a delicious lunch.”
Anyone whose read much of what I’ve written over the years about Comedy in genre projects knows my particular stance on the topic: Comedy combined with anything – SciFi, Horror, Thrillers, etc. – is an exceedingly risky proposition. This isn’t because those subjects are not funny or the writer (or filmmaker) isn’t gifted at slinging jokes. Rather, what each individual viewer or reader finds funny varies widely, so I’m always urging caution when dabbling with such a mix. Occasionally, it’s done well, but far too often the humor doesn’t feel organic to the situation and characters; this produces the effect of slowing down the narrative (when the opposite is expected), and the meal is ruined. Just ruined.
Thankfully, that’s not the case with The Cannibal’s Guide To Fasting … and that’s largely because author Hammer rather smartly doesn’t revel in any of the ensuing hilarity. Her book moves with relative briskness (just over 250 pages), allowing her chief instigator – Igor Fenenko – the observational blurb here and there. The humor here isn’t the construct – there are no passages built around a punch line nor any soliloquy’s leading to some big laugh moment. Instead, what’s funny is often tied directly to the narration (the author’s voice) and the assembly of sometimes quirky characters who surround the tale’s hero. As such, that’s a very good choice because the novel works well on that level.
But …
… even stronger is the world-building that Hammer builds into these pages. There’s an effortlessness to the prose I didn’t expect, especially given the potential scope that’s outlined in the full synopsis (found at Amazon.com, in case you missed it).
Let me explain:
I typically avoid Fantasy novels because I find some of these reading absolutely exhausting with how much time a particular writer wants to spend in fleshing out each and every corner of the world itself. While I appreciate any readership that clings to every idea – every kingdom, every city, every borough, every street address, the color each character wears, etc. – I’ve always personally found those things plodding. Because I’ve always felt more inspired by a simple central story populated with smart and recognizable characters, I steer clear of things I believe are “getting into the weeds.” I hate weeds. I hate ‘em.
With Fasting, however, Hammer has a unique ability to give me just enough in each crafted moment to grasp what’s necessary for me to achieve and understanding … and then she’s back into the story. While there are the obligatory author’s ‘time-outs’ here and there – every writer wants and uses a chance to bring folks alive on the page – she avoids the “Read this, I’m writing here” sensibility that many other established voices tend to fall back on. Consequently, I felt like I was being encouraged to keep with Igor’s journey instead of falling into cracks exploring too deeply ideas of government and class and morality; those things are there, but they’re subservient to the plot and not vice versa.
Still, Fasting had a few shortcomings for me.
I never quite bought into these two brothers’ evolving adversarial relationship. Without spoiling some of the finer details (which I never do), it’s clear to me that Igor played the role of ‘brotherly protector’ in more ways than one in their past, so I struggled in accepting the full gamut of where and how the book ends. Some of this, I think, is also owed to brother Karl’s unstated characterization: as the physically and emotionally weaker of the two boys (from their youth), where exactly did this ‘high and mighty’ opinion of himself later in life come from? I don’t doubt that Hammer can answer these questions; my point is only that I can’t answer them easily on my own (without making a few guesses based on my own experience), and that weakens the ride. (Doesn’t destroy it; just weakens it.)
There are also a few small(ish) details – things about how gold coins are handled, how government and non-government agencies act, and whatnot – that pulled me out of the world here and there to minor degrees. These aren’t so much errors as they are, perhaps, differences of knowledge? Or opinion? For example, my understanding of antiquities – especially gold – is predicated on my few years of working in the banking industry; because a transaction in the book happens far easier than it would in reality – especially in this day and age – I get distracted by those events. True, these differences can always be tempered by saying, “Hey, this is the future, so the rules are different,” and that’s why I never make big deals out of them, only mention them in passing.
But Igor Fenenko certainly stays front-and-center in the engaging adventure. Sometimes bloody – but always pulpy, if you get my drift – his is a hard act to follow.
The Cannibal’s Guide To Fasting (2022) was written by Dana Hammer. The book is being published by Cinnabar Moth Publishing LLC, and it is scheduled to ‘street’ on September 6th. Amazon.com shows hardcover price at $31.99 and digital (Kindle) at $4.99.
Recommended.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the author and Book Sirens provided me with an advance reader copy of The Cannibal’s Guide To Fasting 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
Faithful readers, hear me out: I have to admit that -- as of today's date in history -- I've never seen Luigi Cozzi's incarnation of Hercules.
HEAR ME OUT! HEAR ME OUT!
It was 1983, and I was growing up in a small, small, small town; and the film never made it to our local theater. Not all that later in life, I'd heard from a few folks -- the kind whose opinions of flicks I trusted very, very much -- and they assured me that it was a feature which deserved to be avoided under penalty of death. So for those and any other number of lesser reasons I just never sought it out ... and I really can't explain why today all of these years later I haven't given it a fair shot. I realize that the general concensus of "educated opinion" on it is that it's cinematic fodder ... but to those folks I suggest that maybe you truly haven't seen enough really, really, really, really, really bad pictures to know the difference.
If you've read enough of what I've written from the heart about films in this space, then you'll likely know that I just don't truly hate any picture. I might hate parts of them. I might hate some performances, or I might loathe some bad special effects or poor production quality. But overall I think -- if you look hard enough -- there's always something of value hidden in there. Some nugget of gold. It might be an idea. It might be an actor or actress. Hell, it might even be some snippet of dialogue, for all it matters, but there's something there. I've kinda/sorta trained my brain to latch on to some element in that way, and I suppose that's what keeps me sane from seeing so damn many films in my life.
In any event ...
As I said, this one was directed by the great Luigi Cozzi, and the auteur also claims credit for the script as well. As for the talent, Mr. Cozzi brought together an ensemble like no other. Lou Ferrigno. Brad Harris. Rossana Podestà. Sybil Danning. It's quite the round-up, and one should expect no less coming as this did from the great team of Golan-Globus.
Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
"King Minos and sorceress Adriana plan to conquer the world with her magic and his giant robots. To make matters worse, they also plan to sacrifice Hercules' love interest Cassiopeia. Hercules teams up with sorceress Circe and tries to save both his girl and the world."
HEAR ME OUT! HEAR ME OUT!
It was 1983, and I was growing up in a small, small, small town; and the film never made it to our local theater. Not all that later in life, I'd heard from a few folks -- the kind whose opinions of flicks I trusted very, very much -- and they assured me that it was a feature which deserved to be avoided under penalty of death. So for those and any other number of lesser reasons I just never sought it out ... and I really can't explain why today all of these years later I haven't given it a fair shot. I realize that the general concensus of "educated opinion" on it is that it's cinematic fodder ... but to those folks I suggest that maybe you truly haven't seen enough really, really, really, really, really bad pictures to know the difference.
If you've read enough of what I've written from the heart about films in this space, then you'll likely know that I just don't truly hate any picture. I might hate parts of them. I might hate some performances, or I might loathe some bad special effects or poor production quality. But overall I think -- if you look hard enough -- there's always something of value hidden in there. Some nugget of gold. It might be an idea. It might be an actor or actress. Hell, it might even be some snippet of dialogue, for all it matters, but there's something there. I've kinda/sorta trained my brain to latch on to some element in that way, and I suppose that's what keeps me sane from seeing so damn many films in my life.
In any event ...
As I said, this one was directed by the great Luigi Cozzi, and the auteur also claims credit for the script as well. As for the talent, Mr. Cozzi brought together an ensemble like no other. Lou Ferrigno. Brad Harris. Rossana Podestà. Sybil Danning. It's quite the round-up, and one should expect no less coming as this did from the great team of Golan-Globus.
Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
"King Minos and sorceress Adriana plan to conquer the world with her magic and his giant robots. To make matters worse, they also plan to sacrifice Hercules' love interest Cassiopeia. Hercules teams up with sorceress Circe and tries to save both his girl and the world."
Great mother of dragons ... have you seen Sybil Danning? My goodness, that woman is a picture of loveliness. Acting? Meh. But if you wanted a name actress in the 1980's for any Fantasy-themed property, she had to be at the top of the list if not the only damn name on it.
And Ferrigno? As Hercules? I realize that the guy's signature claim to fame has been and will likely always be his appearance in the fondly remembered TV incarnation of The Incredible Hulk -- still one of the greatest genre shows in the whole history of television. No one could argue that he didn't look the part of the immortal hero from mythology, and he had the chops to prove he could stand toe-to-toe alongside any villain.
Well, I do see that the flick is coming up on its 40th anniversary next year ... so I'm gonna make readers this promise: by this time in 2023 -- so long as we don't all go under in the global Apocalypse or I pass into the hereafter -- I give you my word that I will not only have seen Hercules but also I'll have penned a review of it on SciFiHistory.Net's MainPage. Somehow. Sometime. Some way. I'll make it happen.
In the meantime, sing a chorus of Happy Birthday to the original Hulk.
-- EZ
And Ferrigno? As Hercules? I realize that the guy's signature claim to fame has been and will likely always be his appearance in the fondly remembered TV incarnation of The Incredible Hulk -- still one of the greatest genre shows in the whole history of television. No one could argue that he didn't look the part of the immortal hero from mythology, and he had the chops to prove he could stand toe-to-toe alongside any villain.
Well, I do see that the flick is coming up on its 40th anniversary next year ... so I'm gonna make readers this promise: by this time in 2023 -- so long as we don't all go under in the global Apocalypse or I pass into the hereafter -- I give you my word that I will not only have seen Hercules but also I'll have penned a review of it on SciFiHistory.Net's MainPage. Somehow. Sometime. Some way. I'll make it happen.
In the meantime, sing a chorus of Happy Birthday to the original Hulk.
-- EZ
- Published on
Here's my life's dirty little secret: with as much as I've written about fandom, thought about fandom, and participated in fandom, I would NEVER presume to understand fandom.
Take, for example, fandom's open resentment for 2004's AVP: Alien Vs. Predator. While some might argue otherwise, it's a film that was generally disregarded by fandom at large. Alien fans? There wasn't enough alien in it. Predator fans? Well, there wasn't enough Predator. Despite the fact that -- by the title alone -- these two entities were meant to share screen time, there just wasn't enough of either apparently for fandom to wrap their hands around it in any small measure. It was almost as if folks went to the theater expecting to see some kinda/sorta high art motion picture -- one with no real dialogue or sense of story -- just to watch two of the galaxy's deadliest of the species fighting it out for 90-120 minutes, may the best man ... erm ... woman ... erm ... thing ... may the best thing win.
Now, forgive me for pointing out, that was never going to be the case. Despite what we might think of Hollywood and those who traffic in it, there always had to be a story and a wider cast. A feature that merely put up the hunter and its prey for 90+ minutes likely wouldn't have interested the general public. How do I know that? Well, even the best Rocky film only features about ... what? 20 minutes of fighting? Maybe 25 minutes? There has to be some story with which these physical showdowns mesh around. So if the prime argument was that, "I didn't like the story to AVP," then why was there so much hate dished on the actors? They didn't write it.
I vaguely recall a debate on a SciFi message board (ask your parents, kiddies) that essentially boiled down around Sanaa Lathan's character Alexa Woods. From what I remember, the person's position was that no one who saw AVP would want to grow up and be Alexa Woods ... whereas, by comparison, anyone who watched Aliens (1986) wanted to leave that theater and be Ellen Ripley. So -- from this foundation -- I'm to glean that the only way fans would embrace a hero on a hero's journey is that, in fact, they can see themselves in the shoes of said hero.
Again, this is why I can't understand fandom. See, my counterpoint is this: in no effing way do I want to ever find myself in a throwdown with either the Xenomorph or the Predator because I know I'd lose. I guess I'm just old. Stay off my lawn while you're at it, chumps.
Sigh.
Written (in part) and directed by Paul W.S. Anderson, the film first opened theatrically on this day back in 2004 in the countries of Puerto Rico and Thailand. It starred Sanaa Lathan, Lance Henriksen, Raoul Bova, Ewen Bremner, and Colin Salmon. According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"During an archaeological expedition on Bouvetøya Island in Antarctica, a team of archaeologists and other scientists find themselves caught up in a battle between the two legends. Soon, the team realize that only one species can win."
Take, for example, fandom's open resentment for 2004's AVP: Alien Vs. Predator. While some might argue otherwise, it's a film that was generally disregarded by fandom at large. Alien fans? There wasn't enough alien in it. Predator fans? Well, there wasn't enough Predator. Despite the fact that -- by the title alone -- these two entities were meant to share screen time, there just wasn't enough of either apparently for fandom to wrap their hands around it in any small measure. It was almost as if folks went to the theater expecting to see some kinda/sorta high art motion picture -- one with no real dialogue or sense of story -- just to watch two of the galaxy's deadliest of the species fighting it out for 90-120 minutes, may the best man ... erm ... woman ... erm ... thing ... may the best thing win.
Now, forgive me for pointing out, that was never going to be the case. Despite what we might think of Hollywood and those who traffic in it, there always had to be a story and a wider cast. A feature that merely put up the hunter and its prey for 90+ minutes likely wouldn't have interested the general public. How do I know that? Well, even the best Rocky film only features about ... what? 20 minutes of fighting? Maybe 25 minutes? There has to be some story with which these physical showdowns mesh around. So if the prime argument was that, "I didn't like the story to AVP," then why was there so much hate dished on the actors? They didn't write it.
I vaguely recall a debate on a SciFi message board (ask your parents, kiddies) that essentially boiled down around Sanaa Lathan's character Alexa Woods. From what I remember, the person's position was that no one who saw AVP would want to grow up and be Alexa Woods ... whereas, by comparison, anyone who watched Aliens (1986) wanted to leave that theater and be Ellen Ripley. So -- from this foundation -- I'm to glean that the only way fans would embrace a hero on a hero's journey is that, in fact, they can see themselves in the shoes of said hero.
Again, this is why I can't understand fandom. See, my counterpoint is this: in no effing way do I want to ever find myself in a throwdown with either the Xenomorph or the Predator because I know I'd lose. I guess I'm just old. Stay off my lawn while you're at it, chumps.
Sigh.
Written (in part) and directed by Paul W.S. Anderson, the film first opened theatrically on this day back in 2004 in the countries of Puerto Rico and Thailand. It starred Sanaa Lathan, Lance Henriksen, Raoul Bova, Ewen Bremner, and Colin Salmon. According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"During an archaeological expedition on Bouvetøya Island in Antarctica, a team of archaeologists and other scientists find themselves caught up in a battle between the two legends. Soon, the team realize that only one species can win."
Folks, I offer those above arguments not because I necessarily love this film. I like this film. Plenty. I think it's a great popcorn-style addition to the wider Alien and Predator universes, and I don't apologize for having fun with it. I would say that -- Lathan aside, whom I just love in the flick -- it sadly offers up the most disposable cast of an action film, but I think we all knew there was going to be a body count when we bought our tickets, didn't we? Yeah, a few more visual glorious deaths might've improved the taste in some folks mouths, but -- in the long run -- I think this one was always destined to have its detractors. Or its debunkers. Yeah, maybe even its haters. At the end of the day, it is what it is ... but I certainly never blame the actors.
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ
As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
-- EZ