- Published on
During my college years (many, many moons ago), I did an incredible amount of reading on the works of Orson Welles.
Initially, I had wanted to study film -- perhaps in preparation for being a film critic or, more likely, a film historian -- so the motion picture that beckoned to all of us in those days was the 1941 Drama/Classic Citizen Kane. I had seen it a few times on television (this was well before the days of home video and streaming), and the professors in the media department often encouraged me to not only read up on it but also to write about the flick. At each opportunity -- whenever a media class involved crafting a termpaper as a requirement -- I'd come up with yet another angle with which to (you guessed it) read up and talk even more about what made this particular film so ground-breaking, so inspiring that it was still talked about and highly regarded some four decades later (at that time). I wrote about the cast. I wrote about the sound. I wrote about the film, its edits and dissolves. I wrote about its script. Most importantly, I wrote about its message ... but I won't bore the usual readers in this space as Kane is certainly no Science Fiction and Fantasy property.
I bring it up to make a point about Welles' wider reputation: why is it that he's not regarded as one of the greats of classic Science Fiction and Fantasy?
The answer is rather simple: no one around these days knows anything about his dalliances in these areas, and that's why I wanted to suggest that he's owed a measure of respect from fans.
Chiefly, most folks know of Welles' entry into genre properties by way of his participation in the radio adaptation of its day: H.G. Wells' The War Of The Worlds as part of the Radio Mercury Theatre on the Air on October 30, 1938. History reports (ahem) that the 'shocking' and 'alarming' broadcast created a national panic; listeners tuning in late may've been confused by the drama's structure, resembling a traditional news broadcast frequently interrupting a musical performance to hype (ahem) a 'developing news story,' namely the crash of a Martian spaceship on Earth. I threw in a few ahems (for those who noticed) because there's been some serious investigation into just how panicked this alleged 'national panic' truly was; suffice it to say, perhaps some newshounds of that day were making a mountain out of a mole hill? Strangers things have happened.
So, yes, Orson's direction of that Fantasy program definitely puts him on the genre map ... but the truth is I'd first come to know of his work in radio as the voice of Lamont Cranston -- aka The Shadow -- in that popular adventure show from yesterday. But I don't want to stray from The War Of The Worlds just yet ...
In fact, that War went on to win the 1939 Hugo Award for 'Best Dramatic Presentation.' Of course, securing a big win like that arguably was a breakthrough for any young artist of Welles' clout ... but did you know who his competition was in that same year?
Why, it was none other than Orson Welles himself!
As fate would have it, Welles was up for not one, not two, not three, but an incredible four nominations in that category. For the record:
Did you catch that?
One year ... one record year ... and Orson Welles received four nominations for the Hugo Award in the seminal category of 'Best Dramatic Presentation.' He won for The War Of The Worlds. Some might argue that the deck was stacked in his favor, but I'd argue that's talent on full display.
So I ask again: why is it that he's not regarded as one of the greats of classic Science Fiction and Fantasy?
Food for thought ...
-- EZ
Initially, I had wanted to study film -- perhaps in preparation for being a film critic or, more likely, a film historian -- so the motion picture that beckoned to all of us in those days was the 1941 Drama/Classic Citizen Kane. I had seen it a few times on television (this was well before the days of home video and streaming), and the professors in the media department often encouraged me to not only read up on it but also to write about the flick. At each opportunity -- whenever a media class involved crafting a termpaper as a requirement -- I'd come up with yet another angle with which to (you guessed it) read up and talk even more about what made this particular film so ground-breaking, so inspiring that it was still talked about and highly regarded some four decades later (at that time). I wrote about the cast. I wrote about the sound. I wrote about the film, its edits and dissolves. I wrote about its script. Most importantly, I wrote about its message ... but I won't bore the usual readers in this space as Kane is certainly no Science Fiction and Fantasy property.
I bring it up to make a point about Welles' wider reputation: why is it that he's not regarded as one of the greats of classic Science Fiction and Fantasy?
The answer is rather simple: no one around these days knows anything about his dalliances in these areas, and that's why I wanted to suggest that he's owed a measure of respect from fans.
Chiefly, most folks know of Welles' entry into genre properties by way of his participation in the radio adaptation of its day: H.G. Wells' The War Of The Worlds as part of the Radio Mercury Theatre on the Air on October 30, 1938. History reports (ahem) that the 'shocking' and 'alarming' broadcast created a national panic; listeners tuning in late may've been confused by the drama's structure, resembling a traditional news broadcast frequently interrupting a musical performance to hype (ahem) a 'developing news story,' namely the crash of a Martian spaceship on Earth. I threw in a few ahems (for those who noticed) because there's been some serious investigation into just how panicked this alleged 'national panic' truly was; suffice it to say, perhaps some newshounds of that day were making a mountain out of a mole hill? Strangers things have happened.
So, yes, Orson's direction of that Fantasy program definitely puts him on the genre map ... but the truth is I'd first come to know of his work in radio as the voice of Lamont Cranston -- aka The Shadow -- in that popular adventure show from yesterday. But I don't want to stray from The War Of The Worlds just yet ...
In fact, that War went on to win the 1939 Hugo Award for 'Best Dramatic Presentation.' Of course, securing a big win like that arguably was a breakthrough for any young artist of Welles' clout ... but did you know who his competition was in that same year?
Why, it was none other than Orson Welles himself!
As fate would have it, Welles was up for not one, not two, not three, but an incredible four nominations in that category. For the record:
- Welles and John Houseman were up for the writing and direction of the episode "Dracula" for the Mercury Theatre on the Air.
- Welles up for the writing and direction of yet one more Mercury Theatre on the Air production, this time his adaptation of Jules Verne's epic adventure "Around The World In Eighty Days." Granted, that may be a bit of a stretch to consider it Science Fiction or Fantasy, but many in high places have often suggested that it falls very close to Fantasy more than any other genre.
- Lastly, Welles served as the writer and director for The Campbell Playhouse radio adaptation of the Charles Dickens' holiday classic "A Christmas Carol," a work that definitely dabbles in the realms of the imagination if there ever were.
Did you catch that?
One year ... one record year ... and Orson Welles received four nominations for the Hugo Award in the seminal category of 'Best Dramatic Presentation.' He won for The War Of The Worlds. Some might argue that the deck was stacked in his favor, but I'd argue that's talent on full display.
So I ask again: why is it that he's not regarded as one of the greats of classic Science Fiction and Fantasy?
Food for thought ...
-- EZ
- Published on
I do say this with nothing but love, respect, and a whole lot of admiration: I really hope you young pups do appreciate those acting giants you meet along the way -- even if only on the silver screen -- while they're with us.
See, I know I'm not as young as many who read from this space, and that's perfectly acceptable. I think a blog -- a good one -- really needs to speak to many folks and not just people of a certain age. But because I'm a bit 'long in the tooth' as they say, I'll occasionally try to impart of bit of good-natured wisdom I've amassed on my own journey ... and it's growing harder and harder. The older you get, the more you have to kinda/sorta sit on the sidelines and watch those who've brought great joy to the various works in Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror as they slip away -- gracefully or not -- into the Great Beyond.
Because so many of you are like me, I'm sure you've got one of those flicks in your library that may be from your youth or from some other seminal period in your life that you've watched so many times -- even in bits and pieces -- over and over and over again. Back in my earlier days -- when we didn't have home video and could only rely on pay cable for some unedited joys to play in repeat engagements -- one of the very first films I devoured over and over and over again was Nicholas Meyer's fantastic 1979 Time After Time. Honestly, the thing played damn near endlessly on HBO (then known more as Home Box Office than anything else), often times playing multipe times on the same day. And, yes, I can't even begin to imagine how many times I sat through it.
For those of you who don't know it, it's a fairly straight forward Science Fiction and Fantasy Romance. Meyer tweaked a story idea originally credited to Karl Alexander and Steve Hayes that saw novelist and forward-thinking H.G. Wells using the time machine he created to chase Jack The Ripper into (then) modern day California. The great Malcolm McDowell played Wells, the always lovely Mary Steenburgen played his love interest 'Amy Robbins,' and nobody other than the perfect David Warner could bring the duplicitous cunning that was Jack to life as he did in the flick.
As we fans tend to do, I watched for anything that was casting this brilliant actor in a role; and, thankfully, his work made such a huge impression he gravitated to many great projects over the years. Time Bandits (1981) remains a delight to this day, much of its comic genius owed to Warner's incredible performance as the evil genius. In 1982, he took on an even larger role in cinematic villainy as the 'Master Control Program' in Walt Disney's TRON. 1983 saw him prove he was capable of delivering some laughs as well when he joined Steve Martin in The Man With Two Brains. 1989 saw him enter the world of Star Trek with a role in the oft-maligned Star Trek V: The Final Frontier for Paramount Pictures; and he even returned (in a different role) in Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (1991).
Seriously ... there is so much, much more that the man has done in the world of genre entertainment. He leaves behind a resume rich in over two hundred different screen roles; and I've no doubt that many of them are well worth the time to appreciate a true talent who always seemed like he was at the top of his game.
Prayers are extended to the family and friends of Mr. Warner. May he forever rest in peace.
-- EZ
See, I know I'm not as young as many who read from this space, and that's perfectly acceptable. I think a blog -- a good one -- really needs to speak to many folks and not just people of a certain age. But because I'm a bit 'long in the tooth' as they say, I'll occasionally try to impart of bit of good-natured wisdom I've amassed on my own journey ... and it's growing harder and harder. The older you get, the more you have to kinda/sorta sit on the sidelines and watch those who've brought great joy to the various works in Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror as they slip away -- gracefully or not -- into the Great Beyond.
Because so many of you are like me, I'm sure you've got one of those flicks in your library that may be from your youth or from some other seminal period in your life that you've watched so many times -- even in bits and pieces -- over and over and over again. Back in my earlier days -- when we didn't have home video and could only rely on pay cable for some unedited joys to play in repeat engagements -- one of the very first films I devoured over and over and over again was Nicholas Meyer's fantastic 1979 Time After Time. Honestly, the thing played damn near endlessly on HBO (then known more as Home Box Office than anything else), often times playing multipe times on the same day. And, yes, I can't even begin to imagine how many times I sat through it.
For those of you who don't know it, it's a fairly straight forward Science Fiction and Fantasy Romance. Meyer tweaked a story idea originally credited to Karl Alexander and Steve Hayes that saw novelist and forward-thinking H.G. Wells using the time machine he created to chase Jack The Ripper into (then) modern day California. The great Malcolm McDowell played Wells, the always lovely Mary Steenburgen played his love interest 'Amy Robbins,' and nobody other than the perfect David Warner could bring the duplicitous cunning that was Jack to life as he did in the flick.
As we fans tend to do, I watched for anything that was casting this brilliant actor in a role; and, thankfully, his work made such a huge impression he gravitated to many great projects over the years. Time Bandits (1981) remains a delight to this day, much of its comic genius owed to Warner's incredible performance as the evil genius. In 1982, he took on an even larger role in cinematic villainy as the 'Master Control Program' in Walt Disney's TRON. 1983 saw him prove he was capable of delivering some laughs as well when he joined Steve Martin in The Man With Two Brains. 1989 saw him enter the world of Star Trek with a role in the oft-maligned Star Trek V: The Final Frontier for Paramount Pictures; and he even returned (in a different role) in Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country (1991).
Seriously ... there is so much, much more that the man has done in the world of genre entertainment. He leaves behind a resume rich in over two hundred different screen roles; and I've no doubt that many of them are well worth the time to appreciate a true talent who always seemed like he was at the top of his game.
Prayers are extended to the family and friends of Mr. Warner. May he forever rest in peace.
-- EZ
- Published on
While it's very true that one doesn't think of the name Paul Sorvino when considering some of the biggest names in Science Fiction, but I'll challenge you to keep in mind that it isn't every day that one of the biggest names in Hollywood can stand toe-to-toe with the Federation's only Klingon officer! That's why I'm sure the casting director went after such a strong character actor to bring a bit of gravitas to a guest spot on the fondly-remembered Star Trek: The Next Generation outing "Homeward" in 1994.
Always a critical favorite and he just seemed like a nice, approachable guy when I saw him in interviews, Sorvino was born in Brooklyn, New York back in 1939. It wasn't until 1970 that the acting bug really sunk its teeth into the talent, and a wealth of quality projects soon followed.
As for his genre appearances?
While that list is not all-inclusive, it certainly highlights many of the bigger properties, and all of them -- to a letter -- clearly benefitted by having Sorvino's gifts along for their respective rides.
Our prayers are extended to the family and friends of the late Mr. Sorvino. May be forever rest in peace.
-- EZ
Always a critical favorite and he just seemed like a nice, approachable guy when I saw him in interviews, Sorvino was born in Brooklyn, New York back in 1939. It wasn't until 1970 that the acting bug really sunk its teeth into the talent, and a wealth of quality projects soon followed.
As for his genre appearances?
- In 1973, he found the silver screen opposite the great George C. Scott in the oft-overlooked SciFi/Drama The Day Of The Dolphin for AVCO Embassy Pictures.
- In 1977, he shared the screen with no less than John Denver and George Burns in the popular Fantasy/Comedy of its day, Oh, God! for Warner Bros.
- In 1985, the bizarre works of genre great Larry Cohen found its influence on the man's career, and he joined the cast of the SciFi/Horror The Stuff for Larco Productions. That same year, he also enjoyed a guest spot aboard one of Wes Craven's forgotten telefilms, Chiller.
- In 1990, the Walt Disney Company cast an incredible ensemble of big names to bring their screen incarnation of Dick Tracy to life, and Sorvino rounded out the players in the guise of 'Lips Manlis.'
- In 1991, he joined another Walt Disney adaptation: The Rocketeer sought to bring Dave Stevens' comic book here into the lights and shadows, and Sorvino was cast as 'Eddie Valentine.'
While that list is not all-inclusive, it certainly highlights many of the bigger properties, and all of them -- to a letter -- clearly benefitted by having Sorvino's gifts along for their respective rides.
Our prayers are extended to the family and friends of the late Mr. Sorvino. May be forever rest in peace.
-- EZ
- Published on
While I’m no expert on the whole Giallo film phase, I have seen a few that I’ve enjoyed quite a bit. They do tend to lean more heavily in Horror and gore – as opposed to some of the steamier dramas – but I’ve always been open for anything.
That’s why I leapt at the chance to take a gander at Arrow Films’ latest release, Giallo Essentials (Black Edition). This three-film set includes the titles Smile Before Death (1972), The Killer Reserved Nine Seats (1974), and The Weapon, The Hour, The Motive (1972). All of these come with Arrow’s typical high-end treatment, meaning viewers get a great handful of supplemental materials that help both round out as well as deepen the experience. I’ll be viewing them separately and responding to them in this space over the next few days.
Next up: writer/director Francesco De Masi’s The Weapon, The Hour, The Motive … a title that describes the deductive reasoning used by the film’s chief detective. In his pursuit to solving this somewhat lurid crime, he’ll risk even his heart if that means he can bring the elusive killer to justice … for all the marbles! (Trust me: that’ll make more sense once you’ve seen the picture.)
(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:
“A young priest, Don Giorgio, is secretly engaged in affairs with two women – Orchidea and Giulia. Not long after attempts to break things off with both women, he is found stabbed to death in his church. Police commissioner Franco Boito arrives to investigate, only to embark on an affair with Orchidea himself. As more victims meet their end at the hands of the killer, could the wide-eyed young boy who lives at the local convent hold the key to unlocking the mystery?”
Audiences have long lover the mystery surrounding any police procedural.
There’s usually a body, sometimes more. A motive is required, and the means with which to carry it all out is a bare necessity. So why not, simply, give a film such a title? That appears to be the chief saving grace to the easily dismissible The Weapon, The Hour, The Motive, a collaboration between director De Masi (shown as ‘Francesco Mazzei’ on IMDB.com) and the team of Marcello Aliprandi, Mario Bianchi, Bruno Di Geronimo, and Vinicio Marinucci … a pretty big assortment of writers for what ended up being an absurdly predictable but only occasionally gruesome romp. Given this one is billed as a giallo film, I expected even more blood than delivered.
That’s why I leapt at the chance to take a gander at Arrow Films’ latest release, Giallo Essentials (Black Edition). This three-film set includes the titles Smile Before Death (1972), The Killer Reserved Nine Seats (1974), and The Weapon, The Hour, The Motive (1972). All of these come with Arrow’s typical high-end treatment, meaning viewers get a great handful of supplemental materials that help both round out as well as deepen the experience. I’ll be viewing them separately and responding to them in this space over the next few days.
Next up: writer/director Francesco De Masi’s The Weapon, The Hour, The Motive … a title that describes the deductive reasoning used by the film’s chief detective. In his pursuit to solving this somewhat lurid crime, he’ll risk even his heart if that means he can bring the elusive killer to justice … for all the marbles! (Trust me: that’ll make more sense once you’ve seen the picture.)
(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:
“A young priest, Don Giorgio, is secretly engaged in affairs with two women – Orchidea and Giulia. Not long after attempts to break things off with both women, he is found stabbed to death in his church. Police commissioner Franco Boito arrives to investigate, only to embark on an affair with Orchidea himself. As more victims meet their end at the hands of the killer, could the wide-eyed young boy who lives at the local convent hold the key to unlocking the mystery?”
Audiences have long lover the mystery surrounding any police procedural.
There’s usually a body, sometimes more. A motive is required, and the means with which to carry it all out is a bare necessity. So why not, simply, give a film such a title? That appears to be the chief saving grace to the easily dismissible The Weapon, The Hour, The Motive, a collaboration between director De Masi (shown as ‘Francesco Mazzei’ on IMDB.com) and the team of Marcello Aliprandi, Mario Bianchi, Bruno Di Geronimo, and Vinicio Marinucci … a pretty big assortment of writers for what ended up being an absurdly predictable but only occasionally gruesome romp. Given this one is billed as a giallo film, I expected even more blood than delivered.
Maurizio Bonuglia plays the insanely handsome priest, looking more like a misplaced underwear model than anything else. His scenes are few – obviously in the story’s set-up – but it’s pretty clear he’s fallen pretty far ‘from the cloth,’ as they say. Renzo Montagnani investigates the man’s murder, and he brings along a respectable charm as the detective not all that concerned with ruffling the church’s proverbial feathers when it appears they’ve mucked up the scene of the crime. Bedy Moratti gives prime suspect Orchidea – the scorned woman with porcelain features – a passionate portrayal: jilted by her lover as well as the female half of a loveless marriage, she’ll all-too-quickly jump in bed with the policeman if that means getting some much-needed carnal attention as well as throwing his suspicions elsewhere. Eva Czemerys rounds out the adults in the cast as the amorous tarot card reader also romantically linked for priest Giorgio.
Though The Weapon does muster a bit of heat in the arena of romance, it really does little else. The investigation is all conducted by-the-numbers, meaning there’s little room for shock or surprise except for the fact that there’s a bit of a ‘time change’ that factors into the equation once everyone remembers that the trains ground to a halt for an hour. But if that’s the best that be marshalled to give this lukewarm potboiler a simmer, one has to wonder what all of those scribes were doing in the writing room instead of cooking up more intrigue. There’s also a clever twist involving a restaurant apparently popular with the locals because it offers up a spare bedroom for lovers who want to take their midday delight to the next level, but even that comes off as fairly benign when it could’ve, should’ve and would’ve been a revelation.
Still, there’s an infrequent good use of the church settings, along with a pretty incredible belfry-style location for the flick’s orphaned boy to rummage around. It’s creepy in ways one wouldn’t expect from a house of God. Nice touch.
The Weapon, The Hour, The Motive (1972) was produced by Julia Film. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the exceptional Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights and sounds to be very high quality from start-to-finish, though there are a few scenes with the customary grain associated to some of these older productions.
As for the special features? Well – as mentioned – this is Arrow Films we’re talking about, and they usually stop at nothing to put forth a quality package. For the record, this collection boasts:
Mildly recommended.
Alas, there’s not all that much to crow about with The Weapon, The Hour, The Motive. It’s a rather routine police procedural set against the backdrop of a fallen priest, the ladies of a convent who may or may not be involved, and the church’s closet social circle. Though a few of the shooting locations have some great character, I found the central plot all-too-predictable despite some good work from leads Montagnani and Moratti. Disappointing … but not awful.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray set of Giallo Essentials: Black Edition (Smile Before Death; The Killer Reserved Nine Seats; and The Weapon, The Hour, The Motive) by request for the expressed purposes of creating this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Though The Weapon does muster a bit of heat in the arena of romance, it really does little else. The investigation is all conducted by-the-numbers, meaning there’s little room for shock or surprise except for the fact that there’s a bit of a ‘time change’ that factors into the equation once everyone remembers that the trains ground to a halt for an hour. But if that’s the best that be marshalled to give this lukewarm potboiler a simmer, one has to wonder what all of those scribes were doing in the writing room instead of cooking up more intrigue. There’s also a clever twist involving a restaurant apparently popular with the locals because it offers up a spare bedroom for lovers who want to take their midday delight to the next level, but even that comes off as fairly benign when it could’ve, should’ve and would’ve been a revelation.
Still, there’s an infrequent good use of the church settings, along with a pretty incredible belfry-style location for the flick’s orphaned boy to rummage around. It’s creepy in ways one wouldn’t expect from a house of God. Nice touch.
The Weapon, The Hour, The Motive (1972) was produced by Julia Film. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the exceptional Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights and sounds to be very high quality from start-to-finish, though there are a few scenes with the customary grain associated to some of these older productions.
As for the special features? Well – as mentioned – this is Arrow Films we’re talking about, and they usually stop at nothing to put forth a quality package. For the record, this collection boasts:
- The aforementioned fact that this is an all-new 2K restoration;
- English subtitles paired to the original Italian soundtrack;
- An audio commentary from author and critic Alexandra Heller-Nicholas;
- An interview with actor Salvatore Puntillo;
- An image gallery; and
- A collector’s booklet with production information and essay from Barry Forshaw.
Mildly recommended.
Alas, there’s not all that much to crow about with The Weapon, The Hour, The Motive. It’s a rather routine police procedural set against the backdrop of a fallen priest, the ladies of a convent who may or may not be involved, and the church’s closet social circle. Though a few of the shooting locations have some great character, I found the central plot all-too-predictable despite some good work from leads Montagnani and Moratti. Disappointing … but not awful.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray set of Giallo Essentials: Black Edition (Smile Before Death; The Killer Reserved Nine Seats; and The Weapon, The Hour, The Motive) by request for the expressed purposes of creating this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
While I’m no expert on the whole Giallo film phase, I have seen a few that I’ve enjoyed quite a bit. They do tend to lean more heavily in Horror and gore – as opposed to some of the steamier dramas – but I’ve always been open for anything.
That’s why I leapt at the chance to take a gander at Arrow Films’ latest release, Giallo Essentials (Black Edition). This three-film set includes the titles Smile Before Death (1972), The Killer Reserved Nine Seats (1974), and The Weapon, The Hour, The Motive (1972). All of these come with Arrow’s typical high-end treatment, meaning viewers get a great handful of supplemental materials that help both round out as well as deepen the experience. I’ll be viewing them separately and responding to them in this space over the next few days.
First up: Silvio Amadio’s Smile Before Death, a bit of a sexual thriller with more shifting identities than should be possible in a single film … but perhaps that’s what makes it all the more interesting: you never know just who to trust … and that includes the storyteller!
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging:
“After spending years away at boarding school, teenager Nancy returns home to reconcile with her estranged mother, only to learn that she recently died in an apparent suicide. Nancy quickly suspects her cash-strapped stepfather Marco and his mistress Gianna of having murdered the wealthy matriarch, but the truth is even more shocking, and all three soon find themselves embroiled in a complex web of double and triple crosses in which nothing – and nobody – are quite what they seem.”
Who are we to believe? What the storyteller tells you … or your own lying eyes?
From start-to-finish, Smile Before Death is a film obsessed with identity.
It opens quickly: with no credits, no explanation, and a stark cut from black to the scenes of an older woman flailing about in the throes of death – no explanation is given – the audience is thrust into a scene with no context whatsoever. As a consequence, the viewer is forced to make up his or her own mind in an instant – in the snap of a picture – questioning who the woman is, what’s happened to her, and – most subtly – why should I care? The truth to the last query is that ‘care’ doesn’t matter: all that matters is that a death – A murder? An accident? A suicide? – has happened, meaning a plot has been sprung.
It isn’t long before writer/director Silvio Amadio does provide a bit of perspective: Dorothy (Zora Gheorgieva) committed suicide, but before her husband Marco (Silvano Tranquilli) can seize upon her wealth the woman’s daughter Nancy (the lovely Jenny Tamburi in one of her earliest screen roles) enters the picture. She’s returned home from boarding school with the intent of reconciling (of sorts) with her distant mother. Learning that it’s now too late to get to know the woman, she’s instead embraced by Marco and her mother’s friend and photographer, Gianna (Rosalba Neri).
And over the course of Smile’s trim 88 minutes, the identities of these characters continue to flex and change. Initially depicted as a prim and proper boarding school student, Nancy blossoms as a subject for Gianna’s cameras: with each snap of the camera lens, she becomes a different character. Initially distraught with his chances at stealing Dorothy’s estate, Marco moves adeptly from ‘adversary’ to ‘father figure’ when Nancy gives him a modest bit of attention. Before one knows it, he steps into the guise of ‘lover’ as the young woman is captivated by her blossoming womanhood. Gianna follows a similar course, starting out as ‘mentor’ and ‘friend’ but eventually succumbing to Nancy’s sexual advances and joining forces as a ‘conspirator’ to remove Marco from their lives in an odd bit of double cross.
That’s why I leapt at the chance to take a gander at Arrow Films’ latest release, Giallo Essentials (Black Edition). This three-film set includes the titles Smile Before Death (1972), The Killer Reserved Nine Seats (1974), and The Weapon, The Hour, The Motive (1972). All of these come with Arrow’s typical high-end treatment, meaning viewers get a great handful of supplemental materials that help both round out as well as deepen the experience. I’ll be viewing them separately and responding to them in this space over the next few days.
First up: Silvio Amadio’s Smile Before Death, a bit of a sexual thriller with more shifting identities than should be possible in a single film … but perhaps that’s what makes it all the more interesting: you never know just who to trust … and that includes the storyteller!
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for my final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the product packaging:
“After spending years away at boarding school, teenager Nancy returns home to reconcile with her estranged mother, only to learn that she recently died in an apparent suicide. Nancy quickly suspects her cash-strapped stepfather Marco and his mistress Gianna of having murdered the wealthy matriarch, but the truth is even more shocking, and all three soon find themselves embroiled in a complex web of double and triple crosses in which nothing – and nobody – are quite what they seem.”
Who are we to believe? What the storyteller tells you … or your own lying eyes?
From start-to-finish, Smile Before Death is a film obsessed with identity.
It opens quickly: with no credits, no explanation, and a stark cut from black to the scenes of an older woman flailing about in the throes of death – no explanation is given – the audience is thrust into a scene with no context whatsoever. As a consequence, the viewer is forced to make up his or her own mind in an instant – in the snap of a picture – questioning who the woman is, what’s happened to her, and – most subtly – why should I care? The truth to the last query is that ‘care’ doesn’t matter: all that matters is that a death – A murder? An accident? A suicide? – has happened, meaning a plot has been sprung.
It isn’t long before writer/director Silvio Amadio does provide a bit of perspective: Dorothy (Zora Gheorgieva) committed suicide, but before her husband Marco (Silvano Tranquilli) can seize upon her wealth the woman’s daughter Nancy (the lovely Jenny Tamburi in one of her earliest screen roles) enters the picture. She’s returned home from boarding school with the intent of reconciling (of sorts) with her distant mother. Learning that it’s now too late to get to know the woman, she’s instead embraced by Marco and her mother’s friend and photographer, Gianna (Rosalba Neri).
And over the course of Smile’s trim 88 minutes, the identities of these characters continue to flex and change. Initially depicted as a prim and proper boarding school student, Nancy blossoms as a subject for Gianna’s cameras: with each snap of the camera lens, she becomes a different character. Initially distraught with his chances at stealing Dorothy’s estate, Marco moves adeptly from ‘adversary’ to ‘father figure’ when Nancy gives him a modest bit of attention. Before one knows it, he steps into the guise of ‘lover’ as the young woman is captivated by her blossoming womanhood. Gianna follows a similar course, starting out as ‘mentor’ and ‘friend’ but eventually succumbing to Nancy’s sexual advances and joining forces as a ‘conspirator’ to remove Marco from their lives in an odd bit of double cross.
As I make it my business to keep from spoiling any major developments for regular readers, I’ll still happily point out that these moments of redefining these relationships isn’t over until the last frame of Smile Before Death. Amadio’s script rather effortlessly keeps shifting alliances – not to the point of overkill but it becomes obvious in the second half that something devious is obviously afoot – but he retains the biggest reveal for the last reel, where it belongs. Suffice it to say, not everyone is who you thought they were … but methinks we already knew that by this point in the story.
Before those shenanigans, Smile doesn’t offer much by way of differentiating itself from other flicks. Performances are all a bit predictable – though Tamburi’s motivation felt a bit contrived at times, perhaps a bit too cinematic – and much of the cinematography feels a bit obligatory, delivering nothing fresh much less vividly interesting to consider.
IMDB.com reports that Tamburi’s reputation lies more in the realm of erotic films, and – in that respect – she’s certainly got the goods worth watching here. Though she’s not given much range to work with (in terms of development), she parades around in various levels of undress without a stitch of shame. For my tastes, however, Neri shines as the somewhat femme fatale of the flick: hers is an unstated and less gratuitous sensuality, choosing the stand behind the camera and watch her subjects with a trained eye. The actress gets great mileage out of scenes wherein she’s only the observer; where others may’ve simply gone through the motions, Neri looks like there’s something at work in her mind … and you’d love to know exactly what she’s thinking.
Smile Before Death (1972) was produced by Condor International Productions and Domizia Cinematografica. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated via the impressive Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? Again, I’m no trained video expert, but I thought this 2K restoration looked and sounded impressive from start-to-finish.
As for the special features? This Blu-ray disc boasts a solid assortment for fans of Giallo especially. It includes:
Recommended.
To the degree that we’ve seen this story before, Smile Before Death still makes for a good experience. There’s a requirement that you suspend some disbelief to a few of these events – I, for one, never bought into young Nancy’s “pronounced infatuation” with the vastly older Marco – but that isn’t hard to do. (Just keep telling yourself: “it’s only a movie …”) By the end, you’ll have learned the lesson that even revenge being served cold doesn’t mean lasting happiness awaits us all. Sometimes devious and sometimes degenerate, this Smile really only has a few teeth.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray set of Giallo Essentials: Black Edition (Smile Before Death; The Killer Reserved Nine Seats; and The Weapon, The Hour, The Motive) by request for the expressed purposes of creating this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Before those shenanigans, Smile doesn’t offer much by way of differentiating itself from other flicks. Performances are all a bit predictable – though Tamburi’s motivation felt a bit contrived at times, perhaps a bit too cinematic – and much of the cinematography feels a bit obligatory, delivering nothing fresh much less vividly interesting to consider.
IMDB.com reports that Tamburi’s reputation lies more in the realm of erotic films, and – in that respect – she’s certainly got the goods worth watching here. Though she’s not given much range to work with (in terms of development), she parades around in various levels of undress without a stitch of shame. For my tastes, however, Neri shines as the somewhat femme fatale of the flick: hers is an unstated and less gratuitous sensuality, choosing the stand behind the camera and watch her subjects with a trained eye. The actress gets great mileage out of scenes wherein she’s only the observer; where others may’ve simply gone through the motions, Neri looks like there’s something at work in her mind … and you’d love to know exactly what she’s thinking.
Smile Before Death (1972) was produced by Condor International Productions and Domizia Cinematografica. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated via the impressive Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? Again, I’m no trained video expert, but I thought this 2K restoration looked and sounded impressive from start-to-finish.
As for the special features? This Blu-ray disc boasts a solid assortment for fans of Giallo especially. It includes:
- Both dubbed and subtitled versions of the original release;
- An all-new commentary track from authors and critics Troy Howarth and Nathaniel Thompson;
- An interview with Stefano Amadio, film journalist and the late director’s son;
- Extended nude scenes not used in the film’s final cut;
- Image gallery; and
- A collector’s booklet with related essay and production stats.
Recommended.
To the degree that we’ve seen this story before, Smile Before Death still makes for a good experience. There’s a requirement that you suspend some disbelief to a few of these events – I, for one, never bought into young Nancy’s “pronounced infatuation” with the vastly older Marco – but that isn’t hard to do. (Just keep telling yourself: “it’s only a movie …”) By the end, you’ll have learned the lesson that even revenge being served cold doesn’t mean lasting happiness awaits us all. Sometimes devious and sometimes degenerate, this Smile really only has a few teeth.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray set of Giallo Essentials: Black Edition (Smile Before Death; The Killer Reserved Nine Seats; and The Weapon, The Hour, The Motive) by request for the expressed purposes of creating this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
Sigh.
Having penned my very own vampire-style novel, I’m a huge fan of these horrific bloodsuckers. Honestly, they’re one of the few true movie monsters that lend themselves to a wealth of potential plotlines. Equally tragic and romantic, they appeal to the very best and the very worst in us as fallen angels, and I suspect the silver screen will continue to draw blood from a stone in the years ahead when it comes to putting them up in the shadows and light for future generations to appreciate at least as much as what’s come before.
Because vampires are possible in any era, they’ve also been used in practically every genre. Horror isn’t they’re only playground as vamps have staked out territory in comedies (1979’s Love At First Bite and 1992’s Buffy The Vampire Slayer comes to mind), high drama (1994’s Interview With A Vampire or 2008’s Let The Right One In), and romances (2008’s Twilight or 2013’s Only Lovers Left Alive). They’re immortal flexibility – that comfort and ease to fulfill practically any storytelling need – means that, as characters, they’ll outlive us all in ways more than one … though we already knew that going in.
Still, is it wrong of me to suggest that I see them poorly used in film probably as much as I see them used effectively? Though I suspect this’ll pain some of you, one of my worst experiences with them was the much beloved Near Dark, which sprang from the fertile mind (in part, anyway, as she shared screenwriting responsibilities with Eric Red) of award-winning director Kathryn Bigelow fairly early in her screen career. Perhaps therein lies the problem: as this was early in her storied career, maybe she couldn’t tell a good idea from the bad?
Whatever the truth may be, I’ll forgive her – if you’ll forgive me – while I tell you why this flick just never worked for me.
(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:
“A small-town farmer’s son reluctantly joins a traveling group of vampires after he is bitten by a beautiful drifter.”
In Ben Mankiewicz’s introduction to Near Dark from a recent airing on Turner Classic Movies, the host talked about how writer/director initially wanted to craft a vampire Western in the creative build-up to the project. However, Westerns (in particular) had fallen to the wayside at studios – meaning she had difficulty securing any financial interest in the affair – and this forced her and screenwriting partner Eric Red to reconceive the script much more as a conventional Horror story set against the backdrop of rural America (presumably in the South) where they could perhaps more easily blend the old with the new (or, at least, “modern”) in the mid-1980’s affair.
It was during this rewatch that, yes, I could see some influence of those traditional oaters playing out with characters as brought to life by Adrian Pasdar, Lance Henriksen, and the always appreciated Bill Paxton. (Paxton’s character ‘Severen’ even wears a pair of signature spurs that he uses to cut the throats of his victims rather cleverly in a key film sequence.) Rather easily, I could sense how this ‘roving band of outlaws’ was likely originally imagined to be terrorizing the small towns of the vast and unforgiving prairies, but parts of their modernization came off feeling more clunky instead of organic.
Having penned my very own vampire-style novel, I’m a huge fan of these horrific bloodsuckers. Honestly, they’re one of the few true movie monsters that lend themselves to a wealth of potential plotlines. Equally tragic and romantic, they appeal to the very best and the very worst in us as fallen angels, and I suspect the silver screen will continue to draw blood from a stone in the years ahead when it comes to putting them up in the shadows and light for future generations to appreciate at least as much as what’s come before.
Because vampires are possible in any era, they’ve also been used in practically every genre. Horror isn’t they’re only playground as vamps have staked out territory in comedies (1979’s Love At First Bite and 1992’s Buffy The Vampire Slayer comes to mind), high drama (1994’s Interview With A Vampire or 2008’s Let The Right One In), and romances (2008’s Twilight or 2013’s Only Lovers Left Alive). They’re immortal flexibility – that comfort and ease to fulfill practically any storytelling need – means that, as characters, they’ll outlive us all in ways more than one … though we already knew that going in.
Still, is it wrong of me to suggest that I see them poorly used in film probably as much as I see them used effectively? Though I suspect this’ll pain some of you, one of my worst experiences with them was the much beloved Near Dark, which sprang from the fertile mind (in part, anyway, as she shared screenwriting responsibilities with Eric Red) of award-winning director Kathryn Bigelow fairly early in her screen career. Perhaps therein lies the problem: as this was early in her storied career, maybe she couldn’t tell a good idea from the bad?
Whatever the truth may be, I’ll forgive her – if you’ll forgive me – while I tell you why this flick just never worked for me.
(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:
“A small-town farmer’s son reluctantly joins a traveling group of vampires after he is bitten by a beautiful drifter.”
In Ben Mankiewicz’s introduction to Near Dark from a recent airing on Turner Classic Movies, the host talked about how writer/director initially wanted to craft a vampire Western in the creative build-up to the project. However, Westerns (in particular) had fallen to the wayside at studios – meaning she had difficulty securing any financial interest in the affair – and this forced her and screenwriting partner Eric Red to reconceive the script much more as a conventional Horror story set against the backdrop of rural America (presumably in the South) where they could perhaps more easily blend the old with the new (or, at least, “modern”) in the mid-1980’s affair.
It was during this rewatch that, yes, I could see some influence of those traditional oaters playing out with characters as brought to life by Adrian Pasdar, Lance Henriksen, and the always appreciated Bill Paxton. (Paxton’s character ‘Severen’ even wears a pair of signature spurs that he uses to cut the throats of his victims rather cleverly in a key film sequence.) Rather easily, I could sense how this ‘roving band of outlaws’ was likely originally imagined to be terrorizing the small towns of the vast and unforgiving prairies, but parts of their modernization came off feeling more clunky instead of organic.
While Henriksen and Paxton have built careers on making the most of characters in even small moments, Pasdar seems ill-equipped to do more than gawk wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the camera – apparently his sole expression for fear, disgust, and distraught at the time – and his cheap Southern accent kinda/sorta seems to come-and-go a bit too easily when consistency matters (yes, even in a Horror picture). Jenette Goldstein – who proved herself a Latino force to be reckoned with as ‘Vasquez’ in James Cameron’s Aliens (1986) – is largely wasted here as the ‘mother hen’ of the bloodthirsty band, never quite mustering the menace required to be part and parcel of a genuine gang. Joshua John Miller completes the dastardly roll call: his not-as-young-as-he-seems ‘Homer’ occasionally chews scenery, but far too many of his moments seemed like stock footage meant to take advantage of his youthful face contradicting his learned threats.
The sublimely photogenic Jenny Wright – one of Hollywood’s greatest disappearing talents – earns points as the small-town beauty queen who’s somehow found her way amongst the undead. (We do learn that it was Homer who found and turned her into a vampire.) Her scenes with Pasdar are good; they share a youthful energy, and it’s clear that she’s not quite bought into the whole ‘life everlasting’ scenario (especially with this violent lot), so her continued unwillingness to truly push her new love into the ultimate darkness is one of the film’s best characterizations. It may not lift the project to untold heights, but it works when needed … and that gives Near Dark its best moments in the light.
Still, the film’s inability to follow the established canon of vampire lore weakens what should and could be a stronger entry. See, vampires are supposed to feast directly from the body of their victims, but Bigelow’s creations can apparently drain their victim into even beer steins and guzzle when desired … and, to this purist, that ain’t kosher. This lot is also capable of openly bleeding … while anyone who knows anything about a vampire is certain that – if the heart isn’t pumping – then the blood isn’t … well … bleeding. I’ve read that, again, all of this was a deliberate stylistic choice on the director’s part; but if you didn’t want vampires to be vampires, then why make a movie about vampires? Why not come up with something all of your own – something fresh and new – instead of pilfering just what works and forcing a square peg into a round hole? Seizing half of what makes them unique while ignoring the rest is a glaring inconsistency, and inconsistencies do not make for good storytelling.
In fact, I’d argue that the only salvageable scene in all of Near Dark is its high point: the vampires take brief refuge in a tavern on the edge of town, and they spend the bulk of this sequence brilliantly terrorizing the locals one-by-one until there’s only a single man left standing. It’s written exceedingly well, staged brilliantly, and rendered damn near flawlessly by everyone involved … including those cast bit players who get a line here and there. Those scenes are the stuff of screen legend; and they’re likely the source of Dark’s enduring reputation.
Otherwise? It’s a bloodless affair … though with a pair of transfusions that miraculously (and magically) save the day, ignoring vampire lore in the last frame.
Like I said above: sigh.
Near Dark (1987) was produced by F/M and Near Dark Joint Venture.
Still … it’s recommended.
Near Dark is a film I should probably like more than I do … but regular readers in this space know all too well that I’m not really one for always ‘doing’ what it’s in my best interest when it comes to liking genre films. While I think its cult sensibilities are definitely in the right place, its narrative drawbacks are just huge problems for me. But that bar scene? If you watch anything in it, then make it the bar scene. It rather deftly brought vampire Horror into the late 1980’s with just the right mix of humor, pathos, drama, and terror. That, my friends, is movie magic.
-- EZ
The sublimely photogenic Jenny Wright – one of Hollywood’s greatest disappearing talents – earns points as the small-town beauty queen who’s somehow found her way amongst the undead. (We do learn that it was Homer who found and turned her into a vampire.) Her scenes with Pasdar are good; they share a youthful energy, and it’s clear that she’s not quite bought into the whole ‘life everlasting’ scenario (especially with this violent lot), so her continued unwillingness to truly push her new love into the ultimate darkness is one of the film’s best characterizations. It may not lift the project to untold heights, but it works when needed … and that gives Near Dark its best moments in the light.
Still, the film’s inability to follow the established canon of vampire lore weakens what should and could be a stronger entry. See, vampires are supposed to feast directly from the body of their victims, but Bigelow’s creations can apparently drain their victim into even beer steins and guzzle when desired … and, to this purist, that ain’t kosher. This lot is also capable of openly bleeding … while anyone who knows anything about a vampire is certain that – if the heart isn’t pumping – then the blood isn’t … well … bleeding. I’ve read that, again, all of this was a deliberate stylistic choice on the director’s part; but if you didn’t want vampires to be vampires, then why make a movie about vampires? Why not come up with something all of your own – something fresh and new – instead of pilfering just what works and forcing a square peg into a round hole? Seizing half of what makes them unique while ignoring the rest is a glaring inconsistency, and inconsistencies do not make for good storytelling.
In fact, I’d argue that the only salvageable scene in all of Near Dark is its high point: the vampires take brief refuge in a tavern on the edge of town, and they spend the bulk of this sequence brilliantly terrorizing the locals one-by-one until there’s only a single man left standing. It’s written exceedingly well, staged brilliantly, and rendered damn near flawlessly by everyone involved … including those cast bit players who get a line here and there. Those scenes are the stuff of screen legend; and they’re likely the source of Dark’s enduring reputation.
Otherwise? It’s a bloodless affair … though with a pair of transfusions that miraculously (and magically) save the day, ignoring vampire lore in the last frame.
Like I said above: sigh.
Near Dark (1987) was produced by F/M and Near Dark Joint Venture.
Still … it’s recommended.
Near Dark is a film I should probably like more than I do … but regular readers in this space know all too well that I’m not really one for always ‘doing’ what it’s in my best interest when it comes to liking genre films. While I think its cult sensibilities are definitely in the right place, its narrative drawbacks are just huge problems for me. But that bar scene? If you watch anything in it, then make it the bar scene. It rather deftly brought vampire Horror into the late 1980’s with just the right mix of humor, pathos, drama, and terror. That, my friends, is movie magic.
-- EZ
- Published on
Full disclosure: as much as I enjoy Horror films set against the wider backdrop of organized religion, I’ve grown really tired with films that take ‘shots’ at religious figures.
Some of this is owed to how I’ve chosen to live my life. Though I’m as imperfect as the rest, I do try to avoid (whenever humanly possible) judging others, especially when it comes to the things they’ve done. I’ve not walked a mile in their shoes – as the saying goes – so I just don’t feel I have that right. I can appreciate an obligation any of us feels to speak up when the spirit moves us; but there are far more things that any organization does right than it does wrong … or perhaps that’s just how I’ve always tried to look at the world. Instead, yes, I’ll focus on the output and outcomes; if I disagree with it and what it does, then I’ll try to wrangle my emotions around those factors, instead of insulting a group as a whole.
But … Hollywood and those who play within its confines love to cast stones at matters of faith and belief, and I see these stories as unspooling with narrative laziness and usually predictable performances. Though The Righteous may not dial its anti-religious zeal up to eleven (as they say), I’d still suggest that it beat that drum rather consistently with its exploration about how one imperfect soul brought on the very destruction of Earth itself.
(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:
“A former priest, Frederic Mason, anguished by the tragic death of his young daughter, finds himself wrestling with his religious convictions when a mysterious young man appears wounded on his doorstep in need of assistance. After he and his wife Ethel welcome him across the threshold and into their household, Frederic sees an opportunity for redemption in this mysterious and troubled lost soul, who might just be an emissary from God, or maybe the Devil …”
You’ll have to pardon me if I get up on my soapbox for a few moments.
I can appreciate any storyteller’s unique point-of-view. I’m especially cognizant of the fact that institutions of faith and government deserve the full light of day when applying scrutiny to their purported good works, and I think – as a culture – we can always do more to ensure that these various bodies – large and small – are peopled with the very best among us. Good men (and good women) do good work, and it’s probably necessary for us to – on a regular basis – shine a healthy bit of light on these folks if for no better reason than to discourage those inside who may’ve fallen to step aside and let others engage in – ahem – God’s work.
But … and I don’t ask this frivolously … is there any organization other than organized religion that filmmakers can direct their ire upon these days?
While writer, director, and star Mark O’Brien’s debut film is exceedingly well-crafted, I also found it to have an overwhelming sense of déjà vu to it. Haven’t we been here before? Is there not some major and minor motion picture every single calendar season that comes out against religion and its practitioners? Why are these storytellers so obsessed with deconstructed men and women of faith when the greater world out there clearly has villains aplenty? It’s beyond myopic, at this point, and borders on the pedantic … and I’m really not sure which is worse.
Some of this is owed to how I’ve chosen to live my life. Though I’m as imperfect as the rest, I do try to avoid (whenever humanly possible) judging others, especially when it comes to the things they’ve done. I’ve not walked a mile in their shoes – as the saying goes – so I just don’t feel I have that right. I can appreciate an obligation any of us feels to speak up when the spirit moves us; but there are far more things that any organization does right than it does wrong … or perhaps that’s just how I’ve always tried to look at the world. Instead, yes, I’ll focus on the output and outcomes; if I disagree with it and what it does, then I’ll try to wrangle my emotions around those factors, instead of insulting a group as a whole.
But … Hollywood and those who play within its confines love to cast stones at matters of faith and belief, and I see these stories as unspooling with narrative laziness and usually predictable performances. Though The Righteous may not dial its anti-religious zeal up to eleven (as they say), I’d still suggest that it beat that drum rather consistently with its exploration about how one imperfect soul brought on the very destruction of Earth itself.
(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:
“A former priest, Frederic Mason, anguished by the tragic death of his young daughter, finds himself wrestling with his religious convictions when a mysterious young man appears wounded on his doorstep in need of assistance. After he and his wife Ethel welcome him across the threshold and into their household, Frederic sees an opportunity for redemption in this mysterious and troubled lost soul, who might just be an emissary from God, or maybe the Devil …”
You’ll have to pardon me if I get up on my soapbox for a few moments.
I can appreciate any storyteller’s unique point-of-view. I’m especially cognizant of the fact that institutions of faith and government deserve the full light of day when applying scrutiny to their purported good works, and I think – as a culture – we can always do more to ensure that these various bodies – large and small – are peopled with the very best among us. Good men (and good women) do good work, and it’s probably necessary for us to – on a regular basis – shine a healthy bit of light on these folks if for no better reason than to discourage those inside who may’ve fallen to step aside and let others engage in – ahem – God’s work.
But … and I don’t ask this frivolously … is there any organization other than organized religion that filmmakers can direct their ire upon these days?
While writer, director, and star Mark O’Brien’s debut film is exceedingly well-crafted, I also found it to have an overwhelming sense of déjà vu to it. Haven’t we been here before? Is there not some major and minor motion picture every single calendar season that comes out against religion and its practitioners? Why are these storytellers so obsessed with deconstructed men and women of faith when the greater world out there clearly has villains aplenty? It’s beyond myopic, at this point, and borders on the pedantic … and I’m really not sure which is worse.
Perhaps the novelty of The Righteous is O’Brien’s scope. Mason (played by the great Henry Czerny) is a man of the cloth (and the collar) who not only strayed from his devotion but also confesses to using it to sin even further (not that there’s any real rating system to sinning, but you get the point). Despite the fact that he realized his failure and acted upon it with some measure of responsibility by resigning his post, methinks that wasn’t enough for O’Brien; as a consequence, it isn’t enough for one man’s philandering to bring about an end to his world but alas The Righteous postulates that Mason’s worst hour ushers in no less than the Apocalypse itself. The film closing with the Four Horseman blazing across the sky, signaling the start of the End Times … so, yes, I’m thinking Mason couldn’t quite has confessed enough of his sins to forestall our collective doom.
Now I’m off my soapbox. Sigh.
Quibbles aside, O’Brien, Czerny and Mimi Kuzyk all turn in great work in one of the screen’s odder threesomes (not that kind!), elevating the script’s better dramatic moments in some surprising small ways. Like a great stage play, The Righteous has a good handful of scenes structured around fabulous dialogue – I’m always a fan of well-written exchanges, and the flick has its share – that both defines its individuals as well as crafts their respective personal journeys. Though I thought the sum total here was a bit predictable at times, I’ll always relish work done well … and the film’s better moments are those elevated emotional conflict over the obligatory social indictment.
People are far from perfect. The organizations they build? They’ll always be as imperfect as its membership. We’re all doomed, my friends … not just the most pious.
The Righteous (2021) was produced by Panoramic Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the exceptional Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? Well, don’t adjust your color sets, my friends, as this one was rendered fully in black-and-white … and it looks fabulous as a result, though Czerny could’ve really used a bit of color in a few sequences as he comes off looking an awful lot like Bela Lugosi. Ouch.
As for the special features? As usual for Arrow, there’s a very good assortment, and one should expect no less:
Mildly recommended.
Being perfectly frank, this was a title I wanted to enjoy a bit more than I did, but The Righteous honestly took some fairly easy swings at some relatively predictable characters and situations. I felt as if O’Brien staked out some comfortable territory, populated it with a few good speeches (and some great actors), and then just let the material coast instead of swinging for the fences. Plus … dare I suggest that maybe Horror movies set against the backdrop of failed religious figures has grown more than a bit dull? For what it’s worth, fallen men of faith have become increasingly easy targets – especially in our jaded modern times – but leave it to storytellers to leave no stone unturned … even ones that have been well-flipped before.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Righteous (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
Now I’m off my soapbox. Sigh.
Quibbles aside, O’Brien, Czerny and Mimi Kuzyk all turn in great work in one of the screen’s odder threesomes (not that kind!), elevating the script’s better dramatic moments in some surprising small ways. Like a great stage play, The Righteous has a good handful of scenes structured around fabulous dialogue – I’m always a fan of well-written exchanges, and the flick has its share – that both defines its individuals as well as crafts their respective personal journeys. Though I thought the sum total here was a bit predictable at times, I’ll always relish work done well … and the film’s better moments are those elevated emotional conflict over the obligatory social indictment.
People are far from perfect. The organizations they build? They’ll always be as imperfect as its membership. We’re all doomed, my friends … not just the most pious.
The Righteous (2021) was produced by Panoramic Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the exceptional Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? Well, don’t adjust your color sets, my friends, as this one was rendered fully in black-and-white … and it looks fabulous as a result, though Czerny could’ve really used a bit of color in a few sequences as he comes off looking an awful lot like Bela Lugosi. Ouch.
As for the special features? As usual for Arrow, there’s a very good assortment, and one should expect no less:
- A brand-new audio commentary from writer, director, and actor O’Brien and editor K. Spencer Jones;
- Cast and crew interviews;
- A roundtable discussion with O’Brien and guests;
- Stage presentation with the associated Q&A session;
- A few other making-of and behind-the-scenes bits;
- Image gallery;
- Film score; and
- A collector’s booklet (with essay) and production details.
Mildly recommended.
Being perfectly frank, this was a title I wanted to enjoy a bit more than I did, but The Righteous honestly took some fairly easy swings at some relatively predictable characters and situations. I felt as if O’Brien staked out some comfortable territory, populated it with a few good speeches (and some great actors), and then just let the material coast instead of swinging for the fences. Plus … dare I suggest that maybe Horror movies set against the backdrop of failed religious figures has grown more than a bit dull? For what it’s worth, fallen men of faith have become increasingly easy targets – especially in our jaded modern times – but leave it to storytellers to leave no stone unturned … even ones that have been well-flipped before.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Righteous (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
Though many people find great joy in big, bold, and noisy films, I tend to find mine in the smaller, less noticeable entries.
Some of that’s owed to the fact that I gravitate more toward films that make me think about a subject. I don’t always have to agree with what a storyteller presents (it naturally makes accepting any messaging a bit easier), but a well-conceived and well-presented narrative makes me less likely to push back against anything I might culturally or even politically disagree with. While good characters are a requirement, I’ve always been more of a story person: even bad characters can make a good story palatable, though the opposite is rarely true. So giving me something to both visually and intellectually mull over makes for a viewing experience I’ll appreciate more than most, and these are the films I’m far more apt to be talking about as I grow older and (hopefully) wiser.
Thankfully, some of Science Fiction’s best flicks lean in this direction.
Though 1982’s Blade Runner was delivered with lush visuals, it was centrally a tale about life and how we live it, making it a vastly more perceptive commentary on the human experience than, say, 2004’s I, Robot. Similarly, 2014’s Ex Machina tread a lot of ground similar to 2001’s A.I. Artificial Intelligence; but the Steven Spielberg film required a wealth of bloated special effects sequences that were aesthetically unimportant and even unnecessary by comparison to the Alex Garland thesis on the dangers of pushing technology into areas perhaps we shouldn’t explore (much less exploit). Sometimes less is more, and some auteurs benefit by sticking with simplicity of ideas over excess of substance.
Riley Stearns’ Dual flirts with ideas that have long found footing in the realm of Science Fiction and Fantasy. Though at first blush it might be considered a treatise on the dangers of cloning, it ends up being more about the psychology of human beings than anything else. It rather deftly reminds viewers that flawed minds typically make flawed decisions, so perhaps any activity extending from a broken psyche will inevitably suffer the same fate, no matter how hard we work to avoid it.
(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 …)
Some of that’s owed to the fact that I gravitate more toward films that make me think about a subject. I don’t always have to agree with what a storyteller presents (it naturally makes accepting any messaging a bit easier), but a well-conceived and well-presented narrative makes me less likely to push back against anything I might culturally or even politically disagree with. While good characters are a requirement, I’ve always been more of a story person: even bad characters can make a good story palatable, though the opposite is rarely true. So giving me something to both visually and intellectually mull over makes for a viewing experience I’ll appreciate more than most, and these are the films I’m far more apt to be talking about as I grow older and (hopefully) wiser.
Thankfully, some of Science Fiction’s best flicks lean in this direction.
Though 1982’s Blade Runner was delivered with lush visuals, it was centrally a tale about life and how we live it, making it a vastly more perceptive commentary on the human experience than, say, 2004’s I, Robot. Similarly, 2014’s Ex Machina tread a lot of ground similar to 2001’s A.I. Artificial Intelligence; but the Steven Spielberg film required a wealth of bloated special effects sequences that were aesthetically unimportant and even unnecessary by comparison to the Alex Garland thesis on the dangers of pushing technology into areas perhaps we shouldn’t explore (much less exploit). Sometimes less is more, and some auteurs benefit by sticking with simplicity of ideas over excess of substance.
Riley Stearns’ Dual flirts with ideas that have long found footing in the realm of Science Fiction and Fantasy. Though at first blush it might be considered a treatise on the dangers of cloning, it ends up being more about the psychology of human beings than anything else. It rather deftly reminds viewers that flawed minds typically make flawed decisions, so perhaps any activity extending from a broken psyche will inevitably suffer the same fate, no matter how hard we work to avoid it.
(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:
“Upon receiving a terminal diagnosis, Sarah opts for a cloning procedure to ease her loss on her friends and family. When she makes a sudden and miraculous recovery, her attempts to have her clone decommissioned fail and lead to a court-mandated duel to the death. Now she has one year to train her body and mind for the fight of her life.”
That synopsis unabashedly tapes into Dual’s main theme, that being: “If you’ve never truly lived your best life, then how can and will you defend it if the time comes?”
As Sarah and Sarah’s Double (both played with dour conviction), Karen Gillan achieves the task of creating two similar portraits though each with mild variations on the theme of loneliness. Sarah spends her quiet evenings away from her boyfriend choosing to watch porn and – ahem – self-gratify while her clone willfully embraces said boyfriend Peter (Beulah Koale) … and yet neither find true happiness because they both suffer from the same inescapable inability to connect on any emotional level beyond themselves. While the shocking diagnosis briefly wakes the original young woman from her clueless slumber, it isn’t until she’s in remission that she uncovers a passion to last beyond a single moment … only now she’s forced into a dual to the death with what her family and friends have chosen as a better version of herself.
Alas, writer/director Stearns’ script only puts Sarah through the motions of training for the fight of her life more out of the legal obligation than anything else. Undeniably, she has nothing to fight for, much less take a stand against, other than the terms of a contractual obligation – so must I ask can there be any lonelier sentiment than a binding agreement? Though she finds a bit of a life worth living in the budding platonic relationship with her combat trainer Trent (Aaron Paul), their friendship never rises to the level of being pivotal to her existence; most of his advice ends up being delivered for comic intent (his services are all she can afford, after all), putting the bulk of this film squarely in the territory of comedy more than anything else. He opens her eyes – albeit briefly – but he never touches her mind or her heart, only cementing the unavoidable gloom of Sarah’s truest self.
Nothing in here produces any lasting joy; and, listening to Stearns comments in the brief ‘making of’ short, it’s very clear that’s what he intended. Sarah’s increasing isolation cannot escape even death – the ultimate quarantine if there ever were – so all that remains are a bit of laughs at her and her expense to fill this 90-minute exercise. That’s not a complaint, mind you: it’s just an honest realization that … well … maybe this thing called “life” isn’t meant for everyone … and perhaps there are those out there who choose to run the gamut of existence on autopilot rather than ever risk immortality, even for a few, futile seconds.
“Upon receiving a terminal diagnosis, Sarah opts for a cloning procedure to ease her loss on her friends and family. When she makes a sudden and miraculous recovery, her attempts to have her clone decommissioned fail and lead to a court-mandated duel to the death. Now she has one year to train her body and mind for the fight of her life.”
That synopsis unabashedly tapes into Dual’s main theme, that being: “If you’ve never truly lived your best life, then how can and will you defend it if the time comes?”
As Sarah and Sarah’s Double (both played with dour conviction), Karen Gillan achieves the task of creating two similar portraits though each with mild variations on the theme of loneliness. Sarah spends her quiet evenings away from her boyfriend choosing to watch porn and – ahem – self-gratify while her clone willfully embraces said boyfriend Peter (Beulah Koale) … and yet neither find true happiness because they both suffer from the same inescapable inability to connect on any emotional level beyond themselves. While the shocking diagnosis briefly wakes the original young woman from her clueless slumber, it isn’t until she’s in remission that she uncovers a passion to last beyond a single moment … only now she’s forced into a dual to the death with what her family and friends have chosen as a better version of herself.
Alas, writer/director Stearns’ script only puts Sarah through the motions of training for the fight of her life more out of the legal obligation than anything else. Undeniably, she has nothing to fight for, much less take a stand against, other than the terms of a contractual obligation – so must I ask can there be any lonelier sentiment than a binding agreement? Though she finds a bit of a life worth living in the budding platonic relationship with her combat trainer Trent (Aaron Paul), their friendship never rises to the level of being pivotal to her existence; most of his advice ends up being delivered for comic intent (his services are all she can afford, after all), putting the bulk of this film squarely in the territory of comedy more than anything else. He opens her eyes – albeit briefly – but he never touches her mind or her heart, only cementing the unavoidable gloom of Sarah’s truest self.
Nothing in here produces any lasting joy; and, listening to Stearns comments in the brief ‘making of’ short, it’s very clear that’s what he intended. Sarah’s increasing isolation cannot escape even death – the ultimate quarantine if there ever were – so all that remains are a bit of laughs at her and her expense to fill this 90-minute exercise. That’s not a complaint, mind you: it’s just an honest realization that … well … maybe this thing called “life” isn’t meant for everyone … and perhaps there are those out there who choose to run the gamut of existence on autopilot rather than ever risk immortality, even for a few, futile seconds.
So maybe the best a smaller and quieter flick like Dual can do is make you stop and reflect.
If even you pause to consider oneself for a flickering moment, then that may be enough to detect a sad parallel to Sarah’s days in order to prevent a similar fate befalling yourself or someone you know. That’s what intriguing stories do – they serve as catalysts for awakening – and I’d put Stearns’ entry as one of the better genre attempts of the last few years. Without a lot of flash, the film could break through the usual noise and wake viewers up a bit. It might not be earth-shattering … but it could be to many on a personal level … if it touches them in a relatable way.
Don’t be a Sarah. You might not like what you find.
Dual (2022) was produced by XYZ Films, Film Service Finland Oy, Metrol Technology, and a few other participants. (A complete list is available on IMDB.com, if you’re interested.) DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable RLJE Films. As for the technical specifications? Again, I’m no video expert, but I found the sights and sounds to be of very high quality. As for the special features? There’s an obligatory ‘making of’ short (about ten minutes) that’s really more of a bloated advertisement for the film than anything else along with a commentary from writer/director Stearns … and dare I point out that his name is misspelled on all of the packaging materials? Ouch. That’s gotta leave a mark!
Recommended.
The best satire makes you laugh while commenting on the wider world outside, and Dual certainly fits both of those requirements. Also, it’s safe to say that the best Science Fiction always dabbles more with the human condition than it does anything else, so Dual definitely hones in on just the right artistic sensibility as well. Still, there’s a surprising emptiness to the whole affair – all of it likely by construction from Stearns and company – that might not sit well with everyone who discovers this trusty little gem. Though it rather casually reminds us to seek out and explore only the very best version of ourselves, its emotional core also reminds those watching closely that we still may not like what we find when we reach that destination. Good work by Gillan and Paul in keeping what could’ve been a complex, cerebral affair relatively simple.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at RLJE Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Dual (2022) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
If even you pause to consider oneself for a flickering moment, then that may be enough to detect a sad parallel to Sarah’s days in order to prevent a similar fate befalling yourself or someone you know. That’s what intriguing stories do – they serve as catalysts for awakening – and I’d put Stearns’ entry as one of the better genre attempts of the last few years. Without a lot of flash, the film could break through the usual noise and wake viewers up a bit. It might not be earth-shattering … but it could be to many on a personal level … if it touches them in a relatable way.
Don’t be a Sarah. You might not like what you find.
Dual (2022) was produced by XYZ Films, Film Service Finland Oy, Metrol Technology, and a few other participants. (A complete list is available on IMDB.com, if you’re interested.) DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable RLJE Films. As for the technical specifications? Again, I’m no video expert, but I found the sights and sounds to be of very high quality. As for the special features? There’s an obligatory ‘making of’ short (about ten minutes) that’s really more of a bloated advertisement for the film than anything else along with a commentary from writer/director Stearns … and dare I point out that his name is misspelled on all of the packaging materials? Ouch. That’s gotta leave a mark!
Recommended.
The best satire makes you laugh while commenting on the wider world outside, and Dual certainly fits both of those requirements. Also, it’s safe to say that the best Science Fiction always dabbles more with the human condition than it does anything else, so Dual definitely hones in on just the right artistic sensibility as well. Still, there’s a surprising emptiness to the whole affair – all of it likely by construction from Stearns and company – that might not sit well with everyone who discovers this trusty little gem. Though it rather casually reminds us to seek out and explore only the very best version of ourselves, its emotional core also reminds those watching closely that we still may not like what we find when we reach that destination. Good work by Gillan and Paul in keeping what could’ve been a complex, cerebral affair relatively simple.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at RLJE Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Dual (2022) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
- Published on
For those of us who know him, the name of Larry Cohen is one thought of with great affection.
Some of that is likely owed to one’s first experiences with him. For example, I’d completely forgotten about his responsibilities in crafting the late 1960’s The Invaders for Science Fiction television. Instead, I remembered his name as the genius he delivered the great Horror franchise It’s Alive (1974) to mankind. Sure, it’s perhaps a bit imperfect – especially measured up against today’s rigorous standards where even blood itself gets rendered in post-production – but it’s still a creepy little masterpiece for those of us who appreciate its clawed potential.
I’d also know Cohen for his work in adapting the Mickey Spillane novel – “I, The Jury” – to screenplay for the early 1980’s film incarnation starring Armand Assante. I’d long been a fan of the Mike Hammer novels, so I welcomed the chance to see one up in the lights … even one that was a bit uneven. (I won’t debate the issue in this space – it’s not SciFi or Fantasy – suffice it to say that I never really bought Assante in the role.)
Of course, there are a few other highlights to Cohen’s resume – some that are probably far more memorable based on one’s personal tastes – and yet his God Told Me To (1976) somehow completely slipped by me. I’ve rectified that now, having enjoyed it in glorious 4K Ultra-HD – an all-new restoration, I might add – and I have a few words of praise along with a bit of indifference as to its finale.
(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 …)
Some of that is likely owed to one’s first experiences with him. For example, I’d completely forgotten about his responsibilities in crafting the late 1960’s The Invaders for Science Fiction television. Instead, I remembered his name as the genius he delivered the great Horror franchise It’s Alive (1974) to mankind. Sure, it’s perhaps a bit imperfect – especially measured up against today’s rigorous standards where even blood itself gets rendered in post-production – but it’s still a creepy little masterpiece for those of us who appreciate its clawed potential.
I’d also know Cohen for his work in adapting the Mickey Spillane novel – “I, The Jury” – to screenplay for the early 1980’s film incarnation starring Armand Assante. I’d long been a fan of the Mike Hammer novels, so I welcomed the chance to see one up in the lights … even one that was a bit uneven. (I won’t debate the issue in this space – it’s not SciFi or Fantasy – suffice it to say that I never really bought Assante in the role.)
Of course, there are a few other highlights to Cohen’s resume – some that are probably far more memorable based on one’s personal tastes – and yet his God Told Me To (1976) somehow completely slipped by me. I’ve rectified that now, having enjoyed it in glorious 4K Ultra-HD – an all-new restoration, I might add – and I have a few words of praise along with a bit of indifference as to its finale.
(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:
“A rooftop sniper guns down 14 pedestrians on the streets of New York City. A mild-mannered dad takes a shotgun and blows away his wife and children. A cop goes on a sudden shooting spree at the St. Patrick’s Day Parade. And each of these unlikely killers makes the same dying confession: “God told me to.’ Now a repressed Catholic NYPD detective must uncover a netherworld of deranged faith, alien insemination, and his own unholy connection to a homicidal messiah with a perverse plan for the soul of mankind.”
Again, folks: I’m not perfect. Far from it. But with the amount of reading and online research I’ve done regarding genre films, I am only occasionally surprised by a title. Usually it’s one that’s truly obscure – made on the fast and cheap, had no real distribution, or has no name credentials to its roll call – and every now and then it’s a flick I’m familiar with under an alternate title. And it’s not like I’m unfamiliar with the name Larry Cohen … so imagine my surprise when I finally sat down with this nifty little gem! Subversive religion? Alien insemination? Tortured lead performances? Why, this one was right up my alley? How did it escape my attention for so, so long?
Well, ultimately that doesn’t matter, because now that I’ve enjoyed God Told Me To I’m free to discuss it with some enthusiasm.
Writer/director Larry Cohen even posits in the audio commentary track to the picture that he suspects The X-Files creator Chris Carter (whom he erroneously calls ‘Chris Cooper’) may’ve seen his film and used it as an influence for the seminal SciFi/Fantasy TV show. Though I’ve no way of knowing the truth of that (though the truth is out there, I’m told), I wouldn’t be surprised. There are certain similarities – a voice of authority investigating the strange, a cabal of businessmen controlling information pertaining to a secret religious figure, the manipulation of history by forces unseen – but it’d be hard to assume anything further here as God Told Me To closes its case in 90 minutes while the beloved TV show had 11 seasons and two movies … and still proved little definitively. (Don’t blame me; blame Fox Mulder.)
Still, detective Nicholas’ chief quest was to get to the bottom of what looked to be a police cover-up, and Cohen’s script worked with solid efficiency up through about two-thirds of what appears to be a great procedural. Its last third?
“A rooftop sniper guns down 14 pedestrians on the streets of New York City. A mild-mannered dad takes a shotgun and blows away his wife and children. A cop goes on a sudden shooting spree at the St. Patrick’s Day Parade. And each of these unlikely killers makes the same dying confession: “God told me to.’ Now a repressed Catholic NYPD detective must uncover a netherworld of deranged faith, alien insemination, and his own unholy connection to a homicidal messiah with a perverse plan for the soul of mankind.”
Again, folks: I’m not perfect. Far from it. But with the amount of reading and online research I’ve done regarding genre films, I am only occasionally surprised by a title. Usually it’s one that’s truly obscure – made on the fast and cheap, had no real distribution, or has no name credentials to its roll call – and every now and then it’s a flick I’m familiar with under an alternate title. And it’s not like I’m unfamiliar with the name Larry Cohen … so imagine my surprise when I finally sat down with this nifty little gem! Subversive religion? Alien insemination? Tortured lead performances? Why, this one was right up my alley? How did it escape my attention for so, so long?
Well, ultimately that doesn’t matter, because now that I’ve enjoyed God Told Me To I’m free to discuss it with some enthusiasm.
Writer/director Larry Cohen even posits in the audio commentary track to the picture that he suspects The X-Files creator Chris Carter (whom he erroneously calls ‘Chris Cooper’) may’ve seen his film and used it as an influence for the seminal SciFi/Fantasy TV show. Though I’ve no way of knowing the truth of that (though the truth is out there, I’m told), I wouldn’t be surprised. There are certain similarities – a voice of authority investigating the strange, a cabal of businessmen controlling information pertaining to a secret religious figure, the manipulation of history by forces unseen – but it’d be hard to assume anything further here as God Told Me To closes its case in 90 minutes while the beloved TV show had 11 seasons and two movies … and still proved little definitively. (Don’t blame me; blame Fox Mulder.)
Still, detective Nicholas’ chief quest was to get to the bottom of what looked to be a police cover-up, and Cohen’s script worked with solid efficiency up through about two-thirds of what appears to be a great procedural. Its last third?
Well …
This is one of those rare films that I sat through twice in order to try to come up with something to say not so much about ‘where’ the journey ended so much as the ‘how.’ Without spoiling too much (which regular readers know I don’t like to do), it all gets a bit “out there” with the good detective’s background, making it about as curious an ‘origins’ type motion picture as I’ve ever seen. Though what we learn certainly evolves naturally from the story as scripted, there’s always that element not uncommon to the works of Rod Serling or M. Night Shyamalan – once you know the twist, you might need to re-examine how it all got here. It’s ambitious. It’s symbolic. It’s understandably controversial. Still, it makes sense within the construct of this story. But it’s a revelation you’ll likely need to see all of your own in order to make of it what you will.
God Told Me To (1976) was produced by Larco Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable Blue Underground. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no video expert, I thought the sights and sounds of this 4K Ultra-HD release were very good from start-to-finish, especially for this somewhat dated mid-1970’s cult flick. As for the special features? This is a two-disc (Ultra-HD plus the Blu-ray) contains two separate commentary tracks; and both are available on each disc. However, the Blu-ray boasts far more material, including a series of special interviews with cast and crew, along with some trailers, TV spots, and production stills. Excellent collection for those of us who like spending time with such material.
Recommended.
To my surprise, this is a title tied to writer/director Cohen that had somehow escaped my notice over the years. Frankly, I hadn’t even heard of it – that I can recall – until I received some pre-release information from a distributor. That said, God Told Me To is still a bit of a mixed bag to some degree: having read a reasonable amount of what’s been written online lately regarding it, I’m seeing a somewhat different flick, one that’s far more about isolation than it is a statement on religion or (sigh) aliens. Tony Lo Bianco delivers a great lead performance as the man who confronts the feelings of his own broken identity only to uncover a truth greater than himself … and one he’ll likely take to his grave as a consequence. A welcome surprise.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Blue Underground provided me with a complimentary 4k Ultra-HD + Blu-ray set of God Told Me To 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
This is one of those rare films that I sat through twice in order to try to come up with something to say not so much about ‘where’ the journey ended so much as the ‘how.’ Without spoiling too much (which regular readers know I don’t like to do), it all gets a bit “out there” with the good detective’s background, making it about as curious an ‘origins’ type motion picture as I’ve ever seen. Though what we learn certainly evolves naturally from the story as scripted, there’s always that element not uncommon to the works of Rod Serling or M. Night Shyamalan – once you know the twist, you might need to re-examine how it all got here. It’s ambitious. It’s symbolic. It’s understandably controversial. Still, it makes sense within the construct of this story. But it’s a revelation you’ll likely need to see all of your own in order to make of it what you will.
God Told Me To (1976) was produced by Larco Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable Blue Underground. As for the technical specifications? Though I’m no video expert, I thought the sights and sounds of this 4K Ultra-HD release were very good from start-to-finish, especially for this somewhat dated mid-1970’s cult flick. As for the special features? This is a two-disc (Ultra-HD plus the Blu-ray) contains two separate commentary tracks; and both are available on each disc. However, the Blu-ray boasts far more material, including a series of special interviews with cast and crew, along with some trailers, TV spots, and production stills. Excellent collection for those of us who like spending time with such material.
Recommended.
To my surprise, this is a title tied to writer/director Cohen that had somehow escaped my notice over the years. Frankly, I hadn’t even heard of it – that I can recall – until I received some pre-release information from a distributor. That said, God Told Me To is still a bit of a mixed bag to some degree: having read a reasonable amount of what’s been written online lately regarding it, I’m seeing a somewhat different flick, one that’s far more about isolation than it is a statement on religion or (sigh) aliens. Tony Lo Bianco delivers a great lead performance as the man who confronts the feelings of his own broken identity only to uncover a truth greater than himself … and one he’ll likely take to his grave as a consequence. A welcome surprise.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Blue Underground provided me with a complimentary 4k Ultra-HD + Blu-ray set of God Told Me To 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
Despite its preponderance of sub-genres, Horror is one of the only true motifs that largely functions on an either/or premise: either the extraordinary is made ordinary or the ordinary is rendered extraordinary.
A ghost-filled chamber turns out to be nothing of the sort. An ancient piece of pottery turns out to hold the key to dark, untold secrets. A cobbling together of various human remains gives us the unimaginable Frankenstein! The bliss of immortality turns out to be little more than a curse in disguise. See what I mean? True Horror lies at one end of the perception spectrum – small or big – and there’s no room for middle ground. Death is not death, and life is not life: we’re all trapped somewhere in between of what is and what isn’t, so the trick of Horror is to make it relatable … a ruse that can truly accomplished by the conventional or – its converse – the unconventional.
That’s why it’ll always be that ordinary house situated on an ordinary street in the middle of an ordinary neighborhood will always hide the deepest, darkest, most dangerous secret … as is the case in writer/director Niall Owens’ Gateway. Indeed, there is a gateway within, and who would’ve thought traveling through such a benign opening might unleash untold psychological horrors all too real to imagine? That’s what awaited these characters, and it’s what await you – faithful readers – should this be a journey you’re willing to embark upon.
(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:
“In an ordinary abandoned house – on what could be your ordinary street – a gang of desperate criminals have found something – or has it found them?”
While it’s been said that good things come to those who wait, I’ll be honest in saying that Gateway’s opening 30 minutes truly tested my patience.
I’m a fan of the slow burn … well, so long as I’m assured something good will come from it. Still, the opening segments of Owens’ Gateway were more than a bit confusing. Some of this is owed to the narrative construction – there are long sequences wherein a man in bed simply stares at the screen only for a cutaway shot of a young girl in obvious distress. Are they related? Did he do something to her? Or is she angry over something he didn’t do? Answers aren’t forthcoming, and the true import of those shots – which reoccur throughout the picture – isn’t fully known until the final reel. So, yes, that’s the textbook definition of a slow burn, though I’m not sure it all had to unspool this way.
A ghost-filled chamber turns out to be nothing of the sort. An ancient piece of pottery turns out to hold the key to dark, untold secrets. A cobbling together of various human remains gives us the unimaginable Frankenstein! The bliss of immortality turns out to be little more than a curse in disguise. See what I mean? True Horror lies at one end of the perception spectrum – small or big – and there’s no room for middle ground. Death is not death, and life is not life: we’re all trapped somewhere in between of what is and what isn’t, so the trick of Horror is to make it relatable … a ruse that can truly accomplished by the conventional or – its converse – the unconventional.
That’s why it’ll always be that ordinary house situated on an ordinary street in the middle of an ordinary neighborhood will always hide the deepest, darkest, most dangerous secret … as is the case in writer/director Niall Owens’ Gateway. Indeed, there is a gateway within, and who would’ve thought traveling through such a benign opening might unleash untold psychological horrors all too real to imagine? That’s what awaited these characters, and it’s what await you – faithful readers – should this be a journey you’re willing to embark upon.
(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:
“In an ordinary abandoned house – on what could be your ordinary street – a gang of desperate criminals have found something – or has it found them?”
While it’s been said that good things come to those who wait, I’ll be honest in saying that Gateway’s opening 30 minutes truly tested my patience.
I’m a fan of the slow burn … well, so long as I’m assured something good will come from it. Still, the opening segments of Owens’ Gateway were more than a bit confusing. Some of this is owed to the narrative construction – there are long sequences wherein a man in bed simply stares at the screen only for a cutaway shot of a young girl in obvious distress. Are they related? Did he do something to her? Or is she angry over something he didn’t do? Answers aren’t forthcoming, and the true import of those shots – which reoccur throughout the picture – isn’t fully known until the final reel. So, yes, that’s the textbook definition of a slow burn, though I’m not sure it all had to unspool this way.
But before things go bump in the night – erm, well, it’s actually all set in the bright light of day – what audiences are treated to is a somewhat routine crime picture. Mike and his gang find themselves between a rock and a hard place when they have to make good on an illegal venture gone awry, meaning they’ve got to come up with a lot of cash fast or they’ll suffer some bloody consequences. This development requires them to get into the small-time drug trade in order to raise some funds, and the need for a secret hideout to grow pot brings them to this quiet, abandoned house in the middle of a sleepy borough.
As you can imagine – or as happens in films involving empty homes – all is not well within these four walls: there’s a room with a door that – for whatever reason – just won’t open until the moment is right. Inside, there’s a mystical gateway – one that’s never explained because that would deny the magic. The fact of its existence is what matters when dealing with the supernatural, and stepping through the arch opens up a world of unvarnished truths powerful enough to make the traveler do something very dangerous upon return.
Gateway’s gimmick fully relies on the audience’s willingness to both suspend disbelief and not go looking for answers to the how’s and why’s of the portal. In essence, it doesn’t really matter because Owens’ script isn’t so much about retribution and/or revenge, though it arguably points strongly in that direction on more than a single occasion. Payback is only natural in a world of criminals – in which each of these players reside – so, as long as you’re buckled in for that reality, the unreal is tenable. This isn’t so much a ‘ghost story’ with purpose as it is just a ‘ghost story.’ On that level, Gateway opens the right doors.
Gateway (2021) was produced by Pic Du Jer Productions. The film is presently available on major digital platforms for streaming purposes. As for the technical specifications? Again, I am no trained video expert, but I found the flick to have provided some quality sights and sounds from start-to-finish; there are a few places where the audio is a bit augmented for scare purposes, so don’t be alarmed … or do be alarmed as that’s probably the filmmaker’s intent!
Recommended.
This is a bare bones affair, and it's very efficient on that level. Like The Twilight Zone, The Outer Limits, and even Night Gallery did long before, Gateway posits a unique ‘what if’ scenario – what if a gateway could unveil the truth behind your darkest fears – and then allows its participants to play it all out as a consequence. How or why these spectral spirits and entities are drawn to this location isn’t important. What matters is that they have been, and they’re about to put this gang of would-be criminals on their hardest task yet: survival.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Dark Sky Films provided me with complimentary streaming access to Gateway (2021) for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
As you can imagine – or as happens in films involving empty homes – all is not well within these four walls: there’s a room with a door that – for whatever reason – just won’t open until the moment is right. Inside, there’s a mystical gateway – one that’s never explained because that would deny the magic. The fact of its existence is what matters when dealing with the supernatural, and stepping through the arch opens up a world of unvarnished truths powerful enough to make the traveler do something very dangerous upon return.
Gateway’s gimmick fully relies on the audience’s willingness to both suspend disbelief and not go looking for answers to the how’s and why’s of the portal. In essence, it doesn’t really matter because Owens’ script isn’t so much about retribution and/or revenge, though it arguably points strongly in that direction on more than a single occasion. Payback is only natural in a world of criminals – in which each of these players reside – so, as long as you’re buckled in for that reality, the unreal is tenable. This isn’t so much a ‘ghost story’ with purpose as it is just a ‘ghost story.’ On that level, Gateway opens the right doors.
Gateway (2021) was produced by Pic Du Jer Productions. The film is presently available on major digital platforms for streaming purposes. As for the technical specifications? Again, I am no trained video expert, but I found the flick to have provided some quality sights and sounds from start-to-finish; there are a few places where the audio is a bit augmented for scare purposes, so don’t be alarmed … or do be alarmed as that’s probably the filmmaker’s intent!
Recommended.
This is a bare bones affair, and it's very efficient on that level. Like The Twilight Zone, The Outer Limits, and even Night Gallery did long before, Gateway posits a unique ‘what if’ scenario – what if a gateway could unveil the truth behind your darkest fears – and then allows its participants to play it all out as a consequence. How or why these spectral spirits and entities are drawn to this location isn’t important. What matters is that they have been, and they’re about to put this gang of would-be criminals on their hardest task yet: survival.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Dark Sky Films provided me with complimentary streaming access to Gateway (2021) for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.