- Published on
site update
So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 2024 (in the U.S.), The Beast Inside let itself outside ... well, long enough to enjoy its first release via the Information Superhighway. Written (in part) and directed by Jim Towns, the film starred Sadie Katz, Vernon Wells, Denise Milfort, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"When no one believes her, a woman possessed by a demonic entity is forced to perform an exorcism on herself."
-- EZ
On this day in 2024 (in the U.S.), The Beast Inside let itself outside ... well, long enough to enjoy its first release via the Information Superhighway. Written (in part) and directed by Jim Towns, the film starred Sadie Katz, Vernon Wells, Denise Milfort, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"When no one believes her, a woman possessed by a demonic entity is forced to perform an exorcism on herself."
-- EZ
- Published on
site update
So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 2002 (in Argentina), No Place Like Home landed on earth for its broadcast television premiere. Written (in part) and directed by Craig Clyde, the film starred Judge Reinhold, Joanna Pacula, Bruce Weitz, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"An alien crash-lands and is helped by a teenage girl and her slightly younger brother."
-- EZ
On this day in 2002 (in Argentina), No Place Like Home landed on earth for its broadcast television premiere. Written (in part) and directed by Craig Clyde, the film starred Judge Reinhold, Joanna Pacula, Bruce Weitz, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"An alien crash-lands and is helped by a teenage girl and her slightly younger brother."
-- EZ
- Published on
site update
So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 2017 (in the U.S.), the big city of Mount Dora, Florida served as the host for a theatrical debut of Crocodylus. Written (in part) and directed by Michael Mclaren, the film starred Roberto Escobar, Noa Lindberg, Constance Payne, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A dark secret is unearthed by a local farmer. Local Paleontologists reveal its the remains of a prehistoric monster Crocodylus. It's trible seal has been broken unleashing terror upon the local towns people."
For the record:
To the film's credit, Crocodylus received a wee bit of praise from a screening on the film festival circuit.
-- EZ
On this day in 2017 (in the U.S.), the big city of Mount Dora, Florida served as the host for a theatrical debut of Crocodylus. Written (in part) and directed by Michael Mclaren, the film starred Roberto Escobar, Noa Lindberg, Constance Payne, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A dark secret is unearthed by a local farmer. Local Paleontologists reveal its the remains of a prehistoric monster Crocodylus. It's trible seal has been broken unleashing terror upon the local towns people."
For the record:
To the film's credit, Crocodylus received a wee bit of praise from a screening on the film festival circuit.
-- EZ
- Published on
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A millionaire offers $10,000 to five people who agree to be locked in a large, spooky, rented house overnight with him and his wife.”
It’s not uncommon for film connoisseurs to maintain their own personal video libraries of what might be called “comfort food.”
Like eating a delicacy from one’s youth, film favorites can take us back to another time and another place, recapturing the magic of those days long ago gone by. These features and their familiar faces grow into nostalgia as much as do childhood friends; and owners will play them once, twice, or thrice a year to chase down a fond memory, to pass a few empty moments with sight and sound, or even whisk themselves away from the trials and tribulations of a particularly bad day. Performance review got you down? Thrown in George Lucas’ original Star Wars (1977) and be transported to a galaxy far, far away. Girlfriend dumped you for a bloke you thought was in the friend zone? Cue up Notting Hill (1999) to recall what it was once like for an ordinary guy to capture the heart of an extraordinary girl. Fed up with the endless stream of mainstream news debacles? Odds are looking good that an evening spent with Frank Drebin and his timeless The Naked Gun (1988) has just the thing to put the smile back on your face.
This is likely the sentiment that fuels the enduring popularity behind House On Haunted Hill (1959). This late 50’s Horror/Comedy is not all that scary – nor is it all that funny – and yet it persists as being a prime example of what audiences will flock to theaters in good times and bad. Produced on a reported budget of $200,000, the William Castle directed feature brought in a mind-boggling $2.5 million back to the studio. That may not seem like much to some, but – from a quick look on The Numbers website which tracks box office performance – that’s enough to suggest that House places inside the list of top twenty motion picture releases for 1959. As they say, numbers don’t lie.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A millionaire offers $10,000 to five people who agree to be locked in a large, spooky, rented house overnight with him and his wife.”
It’s not uncommon for film connoisseurs to maintain their own personal video libraries of what might be called “comfort food.”
Like eating a delicacy from one’s youth, film favorites can take us back to another time and another place, recapturing the magic of those days long ago gone by. These features and their familiar faces grow into nostalgia as much as do childhood friends; and owners will play them once, twice, or thrice a year to chase down a fond memory, to pass a few empty moments with sight and sound, or even whisk themselves away from the trials and tribulations of a particularly bad day. Performance review got you down? Thrown in George Lucas’ original Star Wars (1977) and be transported to a galaxy far, far away. Girlfriend dumped you for a bloke you thought was in the friend zone? Cue up Notting Hill (1999) to recall what it was once like for an ordinary guy to capture the heart of an extraordinary girl. Fed up with the endless stream of mainstream news debacles? Odds are looking good that an evening spent with Frank Drebin and his timeless The Naked Gun (1988) has just the thing to put the smile back on your face.
This is likely the sentiment that fuels the enduring popularity behind House On Haunted Hill (1959). This late 50’s Horror/Comedy is not all that scary – nor is it all that funny – and yet it persists as being a prime example of what audiences will flock to theaters in good times and bad. Produced on a reported budget of $200,000, the William Castle directed feature brought in a mind-boggling $2.5 million back to the studio. That may not seem like much to some, but – from a quick look on The Numbers website which tracks box office performance – that’s enough to suggest that House places inside the list of top twenty motion picture releases for 1959. As they say, numbers don’t lie.
Starring Vincent Price in the role of millionaire Frederick Loren, House also cast the lovely Carol Ohmart as his lovely wife Annabelle, a lush blonde who has apparently been seeking her own delights outside their marital chambers. In fact, her affairs are the stuff of legend amongst the two of them; and they’re constantly swapping barbs at one another throughout the set-up, a dangerous thing to do considering the fact that she’s ‘Number Four’ and the previous three have – ahem – perished under curious circumstances. Still, it’s this heavily flawed relationship that serves as the core foundation behind almost everything that eventually transpires on screen.
To give his wife the party she’s been wanting, Loren hosts a reasonable intimate affair at a local home said by the attending owner Watson Pritchard (Elisha Cook Jr.) to be haunted. To join in the festivities, Loren invites several business-related associates – test pilot Lance Schroeder (Richard Long), columnist Ruth Bridges (Julie Mitchum), psychiatrist David Trent (Alan Marshall), and struggling employee Nora Manning (Carolyn Craig) – and the business magnate promises that anyone who stays the night leaves in the morning $10,000 richer. Though all are said to be unknown to one another, screenwriter Robb White conceals one key pairing – related to Mrs. Loren’s infidelities – that figures significantly into practically everything that develops.
Essentially, House tries hard to grow into a whodunnit, the likes of which audiences have embraced since Agatha Christie first published And Then There Were None in 1940. Aboard House, these locked-in guests find themselves one-by-one troubled by jump scares, moving shadows, hidden rooms, secret panels, and screams aplenty. Why, there’s even a top-secret vat of acid kept under the basement floorboards that’ll keep the players guessing in the last reel; and let’s not forget the ghostly-looking caretakers who step in and out of the night without making a sound. It’s enough to drive a few of them crazy – and does, one might say – even though these old-time scares are dated and damn near obsolete by today’s standards.
To give his wife the party she’s been wanting, Loren hosts a reasonable intimate affair at a local home said by the attending owner Watson Pritchard (Elisha Cook Jr.) to be haunted. To join in the festivities, Loren invites several business-related associates – test pilot Lance Schroeder (Richard Long), columnist Ruth Bridges (Julie Mitchum), psychiatrist David Trent (Alan Marshall), and struggling employee Nora Manning (Carolyn Craig) – and the business magnate promises that anyone who stays the night leaves in the morning $10,000 richer. Though all are said to be unknown to one another, screenwriter Robb White conceals one key pairing – related to Mrs. Loren’s infidelities – that figures significantly into practically everything that develops.
Essentially, House tries hard to grow into a whodunnit, the likes of which audiences have embraced since Agatha Christie first published And Then There Were None in 1940. Aboard House, these locked-in guests find themselves one-by-one troubled by jump scares, moving shadows, hidden rooms, secret panels, and screams aplenty. Why, there’s even a top-secret vat of acid kept under the basement floorboards that’ll keep the players guessing in the last reel; and let’s not forget the ghostly-looking caretakers who step in and out of the night without making a sound. It’s enough to drive a few of them crazy – and does, one might say – even though these old-time scares are dated and damn near obsolete by today’s standards.
Yet, the truth is that there not much ‘who’ to this whodunnit: it becomes crystal clear that Loren – in traditional villainous Price fashion that the actor did so well – is merely using most of his guest audience, creating the façade of the House truly being haunted. He wants them to believe the place is cursed. He needs them to see ghosts and goblins are authentic and having dire intentions to destroy the living. By doing so, he can transfer his culpability of murdering his money-grubbing wife and her covetous lover – who is also among the visitants – onto the shoulders of these specters from some phantom realm. Initially, it looks like a clever way of avoiding prosecution, but one wonders whether or not such an elaborate ruse would ever hold up in court.
Sequel, anyone?
Otherwise, there’s no substance to so very much of House. It’s only occasionally clever, and the performances – including Price – rely far more on respectable, low-grade camp than anything stronger. Craig makes a perfectly acceptable damsel in distress – Loren is likely counting on her innocence and naivety to sway a potential jury – as the bulk of the spills and chills fall squarely on her delicate shoulders; and she also serves as a narrative counterpoint to the scheming Annabelle. Costumer Norah Sharpe took great advantage of giving the two ladies looks representative of their personalities – Craig wears a ‘plain Jane’ and modest dress with a reserved neckline while Ohmart is a screen queen baring enticing flashes of porcelain skin – so their limited time together makes it obvious we’re looking at two sides of the same feminine coin.
I’ve read that – for a certain group of people – House is the kind of film they’d rent and/or purchase on home video with the specific purpose of showing it to their own gathered flock at Halloween and/or costume-style parties. (I don’t understand the costume appeal as there are literally none anywhere in this.) Hoping to set the mood for the haunted festivities that would follow, the hosts felt that Price and friends were exactingly perfect entertainment to get things going with a hoot. For me, it’s far too tame – desperately too schlocky – to amount to anything other than a passing fancy; but – as I always remind readers – “it takes different strokes to rule the world.”
Sequel, anyone?
Otherwise, there’s no substance to so very much of House. It’s only occasionally clever, and the performances – including Price – rely far more on respectable, low-grade camp than anything stronger. Craig makes a perfectly acceptable damsel in distress – Loren is likely counting on her innocence and naivety to sway a potential jury – as the bulk of the spills and chills fall squarely on her delicate shoulders; and she also serves as a narrative counterpoint to the scheming Annabelle. Costumer Norah Sharpe took great advantage of giving the two ladies looks representative of their personalities – Craig wears a ‘plain Jane’ and modest dress with a reserved neckline while Ohmart is a screen queen baring enticing flashes of porcelain skin – so their limited time together makes it obvious we’re looking at two sides of the same feminine coin.
I’ve read that – for a certain group of people – House is the kind of film they’d rent and/or purchase on home video with the specific purpose of showing it to their own gathered flock at Halloween and/or costume-style parties. (I don’t understand the costume appeal as there are literally none anywhere in this.) Hoping to set the mood for the haunted festivities that would follow, the hosts felt that Price and friends were exactingly perfect entertainment to get things going with a hoot. For me, it’s far too tame – desperately too schlocky – to amount to anything other than a passing fancy; but – as I always remind readers – “it takes different strokes to rule the world.”
House On Haunted Hill (1959) was produced by Allied Artist Pictures and William Castle Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Film Masters. As for the technical specifications? Well … while I’m no trained video expert … House has been in public domain for quite some time, so I’ll accept that this is likely about as good as it’s ever going to look and sound. It’s not bad, but it’s muddled audibly in a few spots. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts an audio commentary from Heath Holland along with a collector’s booklet of assorted details from Jason A. Ney. It’s a solid assortment, though I found the commentary underwhelming.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
If its goofy overplayed schlock that you’ve a hankering for, then 1959’s House On Haunted Hill will definitely fit the bill. At a lean 75-minutes, the sometimes-light-hearted chiller hosts a predictable central performance from Price, some reasonable eye candy from Ohmart and Craig, and a short parade of jump scares which – sadly – don’t exactly make a great deal of sense come the finale. Is the place haunted? Is everything an elaborate ruse? What’s up with the creepy caretakers? Are they paid overtime, and couldn’t they afford a good dental plan? Clearly, it’s best not to overthink the recipe, otherwise you risk pulling this gothic cake flat out of the oven. A cult(ish), brainless delight, for sure (!!!) but little else.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Masters (via Allied Vaughn) provided me a complimentary Blu-ray of House On Haunted Hill (1959) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
If its goofy overplayed schlock that you’ve a hankering for, then 1959’s House On Haunted Hill will definitely fit the bill. At a lean 75-minutes, the sometimes-light-hearted chiller hosts a predictable central performance from Price, some reasonable eye candy from Ohmart and Craig, and a short parade of jump scares which – sadly – don’t exactly make a great deal of sense come the finale. Is the place haunted? Is everything an elaborate ruse? What’s up with the creepy caretakers? Are they paid overtime, and couldn’t they afford a good dental plan? Clearly, it’s best not to overthink the recipe, otherwise you risk pulling this gothic cake flat out of the oven. A cult(ish), brainless delight, for sure (!!!) but little else.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Masters (via Allied Vaughn) provided me a complimentary Blu-ray of House On Haunted Hill (1959) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
Confession time: as happens on occasion, I’m not coming into this review of 1947’s The Red House entirely unaware of the film’s offerings.
You see, I’ve watched the release before. Twice, in fact. I’ve even written about it previously, though I suspect that that review is presently lost to history. (I’m fairly certain I covered it during my tenure as an Amazon Top 1,000 Reviewer on behalf of a different distributor awhile back.) While I wouldn’t consider myself an expert on the production in any measure, I am familiar with the story, its characters, its highs, its lows, and its rather dark ending, especially dark given that fact that Sol Lesser Productions put this one into theaters back in the late 1940’s. That’s not to say everything within the opening and closing credits is objectionable; but the script – attributed to Delmer Daves (who also directs) and Albert Maltz adapting the George Agnew Chamberlain novel of the same name – does deal with subject matter some might find objectionable. Regardless, it’s a project that’s grown in stature over the years; and there are some who even christen The Red House as one of the best Horrors from the year of its original release.
Before I get into the nitty gritty, let me assure you that House both is and isn’t a Horror. Like a great many flicks, it has elements that are commonly found in traditional chillers, but the vast majority of its 100-minute running time is far more conventional melodrama than anything else. In fact, a great deal of what makes it a Psychological Thriller gets obscured in the process and isn’t known until fairly late in the picture. That’s not a complaint; rather, it's an explanation why someone who seeks this one out and explores it might need to be more than a little patient to get to its ‘screamy center.’ It’s there – not a lot of it – but most of it resides in the last reel for specific reasons that I’ll try to avoid spoiling heavily (yet some disclosures are required critically).
Right up front, let me assure you that it most definitely is a film deserving of its reputation. Part Horror, part Melodrama, part Film Noir, and maybe even part Cult fascination, House includes a great deal of what audiences appreciate even when settling for escapist fare. My issues concern casting, pacing, and the script, mostly; but overall the experts who’ve already sung the project’s praises know full well what they’re talking about. If anything, my humble opinion will largely underscore a few differing viewpoints.
You see, I’ve watched the release before. Twice, in fact. I’ve even written about it previously, though I suspect that that review is presently lost to history. (I’m fairly certain I covered it during my tenure as an Amazon Top 1,000 Reviewer on behalf of a different distributor awhile back.) While I wouldn’t consider myself an expert on the production in any measure, I am familiar with the story, its characters, its highs, its lows, and its rather dark ending, especially dark given that fact that Sol Lesser Productions put this one into theaters back in the late 1940’s. That’s not to say everything within the opening and closing credits is objectionable; but the script – attributed to Delmer Daves (who also directs) and Albert Maltz adapting the George Agnew Chamberlain novel of the same name – does deal with subject matter some might find objectionable. Regardless, it’s a project that’s grown in stature over the years; and there are some who even christen The Red House as one of the best Horrors from the year of its original release.
Before I get into the nitty gritty, let me assure you that House both is and isn’t a Horror. Like a great many flicks, it has elements that are commonly found in traditional chillers, but the vast majority of its 100-minute running time is far more conventional melodrama than anything else. In fact, a great deal of what makes it a Psychological Thriller gets obscured in the process and isn’t known until fairly late in the picture. That’s not a complaint; rather, it's an explanation why someone who seeks this one out and explores it might need to be more than a little patient to get to its ‘screamy center.’ It’s there – not a lot of it – but most of it resides in the last reel for specific reasons that I’ll try to avoid spoiling heavily (yet some disclosures are required critically).
Right up front, let me assure you that it most definitely is a film deserving of its reputation. Part Horror, part Melodrama, part Film Noir, and maybe even part Cult fascination, House includes a great deal of what audiences appreciate even when settling for escapist fare. My issues concern casting, pacing, and the script, mostly; but overall the experts who’ve already sung the project’s praises know full well what they’re talking about. If anything, my humble opinion will largely underscore a few differing viewpoints.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An old man and his sister are concealing a terrible secret from their adopted teen daughter, concerning a hidden abandoned farmhouse, located deep in the woods.”
The great American backwoods towns have a reputation all of their own.
Chiefly, these tiny little bergs sprinkled across the United States are known for being quiet places where time – to a degree – has stood still, leaving the residents kinda/sorta living out a shared existence in a bubble cut off from the world at large. They’re known for their own cooking recipes handed down through the ages, few (if any) stoplights, and everyone heading out to the high school football field for the big game on Friday nights. There’s never enough to do, so the residents typically spend their time on wholesome pursuits, sipping lemonade on their front porch or sipping lemonade out in front of the Country Store on a hot Saturday afternoon. Everyone knows everybody else – why, they’re all on a first name basis, don’t you know – and, similarly, everyone knows everybody else’s business. Of course, they’ll keep secrets – folks everywhere do that – but are there really dark tales needing to be kept from public consumption?
It's into this territory that The Red House pulls back the curtain on the Morgan household. Its patriarch Pete (played by the legendary Edgar G. Robinson) and his sister Ellen (Judith Anderson) live their lives almost completely sticking to the farm, never really travelling into town for anything more than the bare necessities. They’re built a life around the idea of self-sufficiency. Together, they’re put their heart and soul into raising their adopted daughter Meg (Allene Roberts) whose parents reportedly ran off years before in pursuit of their own ‘great American dream’ only to have their lives cut short in a tragic accident “down South” whose details remain somewhat nebulous. While not quite the traditional nuclear family, the three are about as close as one comes; but their constant isolation – even in these parts – has been the source of gossip for some time.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An old man and his sister are concealing a terrible secret from their adopted teen daughter, concerning a hidden abandoned farmhouse, located deep in the woods.”
The great American backwoods towns have a reputation all of their own.
Chiefly, these tiny little bergs sprinkled across the United States are known for being quiet places where time – to a degree – has stood still, leaving the residents kinda/sorta living out a shared existence in a bubble cut off from the world at large. They’re known for their own cooking recipes handed down through the ages, few (if any) stoplights, and everyone heading out to the high school football field for the big game on Friday nights. There’s never enough to do, so the residents typically spend their time on wholesome pursuits, sipping lemonade on their front porch or sipping lemonade out in front of the Country Store on a hot Saturday afternoon. Everyone knows everybody else – why, they’re all on a first name basis, don’t you know – and, similarly, everyone knows everybody else’s business. Of course, they’ll keep secrets – folks everywhere do that – but are there really dark tales needing to be kept from public consumption?
It's into this territory that The Red House pulls back the curtain on the Morgan household. Its patriarch Pete (played by the legendary Edgar G. Robinson) and his sister Ellen (Judith Anderson) live their lives almost completely sticking to the farm, never really travelling into town for anything more than the bare necessities. They’re built a life around the idea of self-sufficiency. Together, they’re put their heart and soul into raising their adopted daughter Meg (Allene Roberts) whose parents reportedly ran off years before in pursuit of their own ‘great American dream’ only to have their lives cut short in a tragic accident “down South” whose details remain somewhat nebulous. While not quite the traditional nuclear family, the three are about as close as one comes; but their constant isolation – even in these parts – has been the source of gossip for some time.
Knowing that Pete (who is peg-legged but, alas, I'll not say why) is desperately in need of a pair of hands to help him out tending to the farm, Meg manages to lure home a classmate – Nath Storm (Lon McCallister) – one day mostly because she harbors a schoolgirl crush on the lad as well. A bit of a curmudgeon, Pete warms to the boy more out of the fact that he wants to keep Meg happy (and homebound) than anything else; and an employment relationship is established. Nath puts in an afternoon’s work and even hangs about for a meal; but when he announces that he’s heading home for the evening and wanting to take a short cut across Pete’s heavily forested property, the old man slowly grows incensed, warning the young man that the place is haunted.
This is where House definitely enters some mildly spectral terrain.
Allegedly, there’s a red house somewhere out there in the wild; and – though only Pete and Ellen seem to know its history – something decidedly evil took place there long ago. Surprisingly, Nath gives no indication that he’s ever heard of such a tale – a bit of a narrative miss, if you ask me, especially given the fact that the Morgans are seemingly the talk of the town – and insists on heading into these woods despite the hard-tempered caution. Whatever he does, Pete says, Nath is not to go anywhere near the red house.
In a very good sequence, the young man braves the dark and stormy night on what he believes would be a ‘walk in the park,’ and it doesn’t take long for him to grow overwhelmed with sounds akin to screaming in the blackness. Though he gets himself turned around once or twice, Nath eventually is overcome by the experience; and he manages to find his way back to the Morgan farm. Aghast with fear, he rushes into the barn and throws himself on the ground, a spot where Pete eventually finds him after telephoning the boy’s mother to let her know they’ll keep him safe for the night.
Daves delivers a fabulous set-up for what’s to follow. Meg and Nath – to the dismay of the boy’s girlfriend Tibby (Julie London) – believe they need to get to the bottom of whatever ‘spirit’ or legend is haunting this woodland. Though she doesn’t know why precisely, Meg feels drawn to the place, thinking that perhaps she’s even been to the red house before though she doesn’t know why. The three teenagers briefly team-up to explore the uncharted wilderness only to encounter a good deal of resistance from Teller (Rory Calhoun), a bit of a local miscreant whom Pete has secretly hired to keep folks from trespassing on his property. As happens in stories of this sort, the secret grows to big to deny; and Meg will uncover just why it all feels so familiar in perhaps one of the creepier scenes to come out of 1940’s cinema.
This is where House definitely enters some mildly spectral terrain.
Allegedly, there’s a red house somewhere out there in the wild; and – though only Pete and Ellen seem to know its history – something decidedly evil took place there long ago. Surprisingly, Nath gives no indication that he’s ever heard of such a tale – a bit of a narrative miss, if you ask me, especially given the fact that the Morgans are seemingly the talk of the town – and insists on heading into these woods despite the hard-tempered caution. Whatever he does, Pete says, Nath is not to go anywhere near the red house.
In a very good sequence, the young man braves the dark and stormy night on what he believes would be a ‘walk in the park,’ and it doesn’t take long for him to grow overwhelmed with sounds akin to screaming in the blackness. Though he gets himself turned around once or twice, Nath eventually is overcome by the experience; and he manages to find his way back to the Morgan farm. Aghast with fear, he rushes into the barn and throws himself on the ground, a spot where Pete eventually finds him after telephoning the boy’s mother to let her know they’ll keep him safe for the night.
Daves delivers a fabulous set-up for what’s to follow. Meg and Nath – to the dismay of the boy’s girlfriend Tibby (Julie London) – believe they need to get to the bottom of whatever ‘spirit’ or legend is haunting this woodland. Though she doesn’t know why precisely, Meg feels drawn to the place, thinking that perhaps she’s even been to the red house before though she doesn’t know why. The three teenagers briefly team-up to explore the uncharted wilderness only to encounter a good deal of resistance from Teller (Rory Calhoun), a bit of a local miscreant whom Pete has secretly hired to keep folks from trespassing on his property. As happens in stories of this sort, the secret grows to big to deny; and Meg will uncover just why it all feels so familiar in perhaps one of the creepier scenes to come out of 1940’s cinema.
Structurally, House revolves around several love triangles.
The aforementioned collision of Meg/Nath/Tibby occupies a good portion of the film’s first half; and as Tibby grows a bit resentful over her presumed beau’s attachment to Meg, she warms up to Teller. Eventually, the Nath/Tibby/Teller relationship comes to a head (with some violence); but it isn’t only the youngsters who get into the textual mix. There’s also a suggestion that Ellen previously held a torch for the town doctor – Jonathan Byrne (Harry Shannon) – a pairing that was never consummated in any way owed to her seemingly unbreakable bond with her own brother. Some might even wonder whether or not Ellen and Pete were engaged in some inappropriate tryst … that is, until the truth of Pete and Meg’s dark origins come to life in the second half. (Yes, you are free to think of that what you will, as I suspect many may have or definitely will.) There's even a non-sexual love association that gets modest screen time between Nath, his mother, and a possible suitor, a passing mention that winds up meaning vastly more if audiences stop to think about it what it says about trials of the human heart. Damn near everyone in the film is connecting in some way or another to others; and, yes, that matters.
It's this nexus wherein love comes into conflict with third parties that inevitably ties all of this melodrama together. Without spoiling all of the particulars, much of what remains unknown links directly to Pete’s actions; and House explores the long-term effect keeping secrets has upon his fragile mind. There’s a surprisingly menace lurking behind his otherwise neighborly façade, the kind that pushed him to make some unthinkable choices in his own youth. The fact that Daves hired Robinson – a talent who truly built a screen presence around playing some of filmdom’s greatest heavies (i.e. villains) – is the kind of nuance which might have audiences questioning the decision in the first half of the picture … but there’s no escaping the power of Edgar’s transformation from the kindly father to perhaps everything but as he spirals out of control.
Mind you: there are signs along the way which suggest things that were decidedly heading into dark places. Watch closely to how Ellen looks at Pete, and you might even experience jointly the fear slowly bubbling to the surface in her own heart. Listen to Pete brazenly calling for Teller to use bullets to keep those kids out of the woods, and you’ll know there’s arguably something in the red house he’d stop at nothing to keep hidden. Even Meg’s growing discomfort at being casually misidentified by the aging Pete points us in the direction of tragedy. Follow these bread crumbs to the house itself, and you’ll have no doubt as to what a man once did in the pursuit of his own private happiness.
The aforementioned collision of Meg/Nath/Tibby occupies a good portion of the film’s first half; and as Tibby grows a bit resentful over her presumed beau’s attachment to Meg, she warms up to Teller. Eventually, the Nath/Tibby/Teller relationship comes to a head (with some violence); but it isn’t only the youngsters who get into the textual mix. There’s also a suggestion that Ellen previously held a torch for the town doctor – Jonathan Byrne (Harry Shannon) – a pairing that was never consummated in any way owed to her seemingly unbreakable bond with her own brother. Some might even wonder whether or not Ellen and Pete were engaged in some inappropriate tryst … that is, until the truth of Pete and Meg’s dark origins come to life in the second half. (Yes, you are free to think of that what you will, as I suspect many may have or definitely will.) There's even a non-sexual love association that gets modest screen time between Nath, his mother, and a possible suitor, a passing mention that winds up meaning vastly more if audiences stop to think about it what it says about trials of the human heart. Damn near everyone in the film is connecting in some way or another to others; and, yes, that matters.
It's this nexus wherein love comes into conflict with third parties that inevitably ties all of this melodrama together. Without spoiling all of the particulars, much of what remains unknown links directly to Pete’s actions; and House explores the long-term effect keeping secrets has upon his fragile mind. There’s a surprisingly menace lurking behind his otherwise neighborly façade, the kind that pushed him to make some unthinkable choices in his own youth. The fact that Daves hired Robinson – a talent who truly built a screen presence around playing some of filmdom’s greatest heavies (i.e. villains) – is the kind of nuance which might have audiences questioning the decision in the first half of the picture … but there’s no escaping the power of Edgar’s transformation from the kindly father to perhaps everything but as he spirals out of control.
Mind you: there are signs along the way which suggest things that were decidedly heading into dark places. Watch closely to how Ellen looks at Pete, and you might even experience jointly the fear slowly bubbling to the surface in her own heart. Listen to Pete brazenly calling for Teller to use bullets to keep those kids out of the woods, and you’ll know there’s arguably something in the red house he’d stop at nothing to keep hidden. Even Meg’s growing discomfort at being casually misidentified by the aging Pete points us in the direction of tragedy. Follow these bread crumbs to the house itself, and you’ll have no doubt as to what a man once did in the pursuit of his own private happiness.
The Red House (1947) was produced by Sol Lesser Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Film Masters. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still see and hear a great deal of ‘meh’ across this one: some sequences appear a bit mildly out of focus (to this untrained eye), and the audio – while good, especially in a few key places – still sounds a bit dull and flat (to this untrained ear). As always, I’m willing to chalk this up to inferior source materials. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? There’s a full-length commentary from Karen Burroughs Hannsberry that only occasionally feels like it has something to say as the expert spends more time in details outside of the production than inside. (Yes, this happens a great deal with older releases.) There’s also a collector’s booklet with some additional material provided by Chad Kennerk. A good assortment, all things considered.
Recommended.
The Red House (1947) benefits greatly by using themes and subtexts beyond conventional Drama to spin a dark and complex web about fidelity – or suggestions to the contrary – serving to haunt one man’s psyche for much longer than he could possibly have endured. Ultimately, the affable Pete Morgan pays the highest price imaginable (not once but thrice!), leaving audiences to forever debate whether or not his previous deeds (or misdeeds) truly required such a lethal penance. Production details are exceptional throughout; and – if anything – director Daves could’ve gotten more with less as several scenes play out longer than necessary, with even a few sequences seeming mildly repetitive to the point of questioning whether or not they were necessary. Still, the sight of Edgar G. Robinson having lost his marbles likely unnerved watchers of the day and maybe ever since. That fact alone might be the greatest gift given by this noirish, backwoods potboiler.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Masters (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Red House (1947) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Recommended.
The Red House (1947) benefits greatly by using themes and subtexts beyond conventional Drama to spin a dark and complex web about fidelity – or suggestions to the contrary – serving to haunt one man’s psyche for much longer than he could possibly have endured. Ultimately, the affable Pete Morgan pays the highest price imaginable (not once but thrice!), leaving audiences to forever debate whether or not his previous deeds (or misdeeds) truly required such a lethal penance. Production details are exceptional throughout; and – if anything – director Daves could’ve gotten more with less as several scenes play out longer than necessary, with even a few sequences seeming mildly repetitive to the point of questioning whether or not they were necessary. Still, the sight of Edgar G. Robinson having lost his marbles likely unnerved watchers of the day and maybe ever since. That fact alone might be the greatest gift given by this noirish, backwoods potboiler.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Masters (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Red House (1947) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
site update
So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 1958 (in the U.S.) ... who knows ... what evil ... lurks ... in the hearts of men? The Shadow knows! Well, he knew but under the theatrical name of Invisible Avenger, that is! Intended as a series' pilot, a handful of episodes were adapted into one silver screen outing, starring such names as Richard Derr, Mark Daniels, Helen Westcott, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"Lamont Cranston, aka The Shadow, investigates the murder of a New Orleans bandleader."
-- EZ
On this day in 1958 (in the U.S.) ... who knows ... what evil ... lurks ... in the hearts of men? The Shadow knows! Well, he knew but under the theatrical name of Invisible Avenger, that is! Intended as a series' pilot, a handful of episodes were adapted into one silver screen outing, starring such names as Richard Derr, Mark Daniels, Helen Westcott, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"Lamont Cranston, aka The Shadow, investigates the murder of a New Orleans bandleader."
-- EZ
- Published on
site update
So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 2006 (in Japan), the long-gestating Battlespace finally unleashed to the masses-at-large via home video. Written and directed by Neil Johnson, the film starred Eve Connelly, Blake Edgerton, Iva Franks Singer, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A futuristic sci-fi adventure begins after the destruction of their Universe. With a militaristic race of modified humans in hot pursuit Colonel Mara Shryyke finds herself stranded on an inhospitable planet and discovers a weapon of mass destruction set to destroy her home planet in less then 42 hours!"
-- EZ
On this day in 2006 (in Japan), the long-gestating Battlespace finally unleashed to the masses-at-large via home video. Written and directed by Neil Johnson, the film starred Eve Connelly, Blake Edgerton, Iva Franks Singer, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A futuristic sci-fi adventure begins after the destruction of their Universe. With a militaristic race of modified humans in hot pursuit Colonel Mara Shryyke finds herself stranded on an inhospitable planet and discovers a weapon of mass destruction set to destroy her home planet in less then 42 hours!"
-- EZ
- Published on
site update
So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 2022 (in the U.S.), the war began when Battle For Pandora opened simultaneously on the Information Superhighway and a limited theatrical release. Directed by Noah Luke from a story by Rolfe Kanefsky and Joe Roche, the film starred Tom Sizemore, Natalie Storrs, Mark Ricketson, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"After a help signal from a research vessel makes it back to Earth, the U.S. Space Force sends a rescue ship to Pandora, a moon of Saturn. But when they try to land, they discover Pandora is inhabited by a highly evolved humanoid species."
-- EZ
On this day in 2022 (in the U.S.), the war began when Battle For Pandora opened simultaneously on the Information Superhighway and a limited theatrical release. Directed by Noah Luke from a story by Rolfe Kanefsky and Joe Roche, the film starred Tom Sizemore, Natalie Storrs, Mark Ricketson, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"After a help signal from a research vessel makes it back to Earth, the U.S. Space Force sends a rescue ship to Pandora, a moon of Saturn. But when they try to land, they discover Pandora is inhabited by a highly evolved humanoid species."
-- EZ
- Published on
happy 45th anniversary!
For those unawares, Flash Gordon enjoyed its first theatrical release on December 5, 1980 in the United States, making it eligible for the Saturn Awards consideration for their 1981 ceremonies. (FYI: IMDB.com indicates that the film may have enjoyed a screening previous to this in Italy during the 1980's, but as I'm unable to confirm that citationi I'm using the December 5th date for SciFiHistory.Net's purposes.)
To the film's credit, Flash Gordon received three nominations total in the categories of 'Best Costumes,' 'Best Supporting Actor,' and 'Best Science Fiction Film.'
Best Costumes:
According to information available on IMDB.com, designer Danilo Donati received the nomination for Flash Gordon in the category of 'Best Costumes.' Other candidates up for top honors that year included Durinda Wood (Battle Beyond The Stars), John Mollo (Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back), Doris Bettencourt (Fade To Black), and Jean-Pierre Dorléac (Somewhere In Time). As fate would have it, Dorléac went home that evening with the coveted trophy.
Best Supporting Actor:
Every hero needs a villain to face off against, and Flash Gordon definitely hired one of the industry's finest actors to fill out the shoes of 'Ming The Merciless' when they secured Max von Sydow for the role. That year, other talent up for the Saturn Awards nod included Billy Dee Williams (Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back), Melvyn Douglas (The Changeling), Martin Gabel (The First Deadly Sin), and Scatman Crothers (The Shining). That evening, the stars shone brightly for Crothers with his work aboard the Stephen King adaptation.
Best Science Fiction Film:
It goes without saying that competition is stiffest and steepest in the big category of Best Science Fiction Film, so Flash was certainly up against some of the best and brightest from 1980. Other contenders for top honors included The Final Countdown, Battle Beyond The Stars, Altered States, and Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back. Lo and behold, the Empire refused to go down without a fight; and the film was awarded with the big trophy.
About the Saturn Awards (from Google.com):
The Saturn Awards are a set of annual awards presented by the Academy of Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror Films to honor excellence in film, television, and home entertainment in the genres of science fiction, fantasy, horror, and related genres. The awards were founded in 1972 by Dr. Donald A. Reed.
-- EZ
To the film's credit, Flash Gordon received three nominations total in the categories of 'Best Costumes,' 'Best Supporting Actor,' and 'Best Science Fiction Film.'
Best Costumes:
According to information available on IMDB.com, designer Danilo Donati received the nomination for Flash Gordon in the category of 'Best Costumes.' Other candidates up for top honors that year included Durinda Wood (Battle Beyond The Stars), John Mollo (Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back), Doris Bettencourt (Fade To Black), and Jean-Pierre Dorléac (Somewhere In Time). As fate would have it, Dorléac went home that evening with the coveted trophy.
Best Supporting Actor:
Every hero needs a villain to face off against, and Flash Gordon definitely hired one of the industry's finest actors to fill out the shoes of 'Ming The Merciless' when they secured Max von Sydow for the role. That year, other talent up for the Saturn Awards nod included Billy Dee Williams (Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back), Melvyn Douglas (The Changeling), Martin Gabel (The First Deadly Sin), and Scatman Crothers (The Shining). That evening, the stars shone brightly for Crothers with his work aboard the Stephen King adaptation.
Best Science Fiction Film:
It goes without saying that competition is stiffest and steepest in the big category of Best Science Fiction Film, so Flash was certainly up against some of the best and brightest from 1980. Other contenders for top honors included The Final Countdown, Battle Beyond The Stars, Altered States, and Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back. Lo and behold, the Empire refused to go down without a fight; and the film was awarded with the big trophy.
About the Saturn Awards (from Google.com):
The Saturn Awards are a set of annual awards presented by the Academy of Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror Films to honor excellence in film, television, and home entertainment in the genres of science fiction, fantasy, horror, and related genres. The awards were founded in 1972 by Dr. Donald A. Reed.
-- EZ
- Published on
Those of us who were there in 1989 when Tim Burton’s Batman showed what was possible with comic book adaptations can tell you how influential 120+ minutes truly were.
Homing in on the equally Gothic and hard-boiled aesthetic that propelled Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns (in comic books) – an older Batman comes out of retirement to take up his vigilanteism again – to unimagined heights, Burton brought the caped crusader, his city, and even that one unique corner of the entire DC Universe to life in ways that had generally been reserved for animation. Darks grew darker, and pervasive light was snuffed out in favor of shadows. Villains turned more than a bit obtuse and wacky. The cinematography was a bit off-center, rendering Gotham City as some kind of baroque nightmare plucked from the frames of film noir. And – most importantly – Batman, the Batmobile, the Batwing, and a plethora of Bat-gadgets were impressively designed to fit uniquely into this landscape, bringing an all-new aesthetic to the world of crime-fighting the audiences hadn’t seen before and Hollywood would attempt to recreate in like-minded features for about a decade after.
It's this domain in which 1994’s The Mask tried to loosely recapture that magic but with a more family-friendly vibe. Directed by Chuck Russell (1987’s A Nightmare On Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors and 1988’s The Blob remake), The Mask was only loosely based on the mythology as originally crafted Mike Richardson for Dark Horse Comics. The film script shows attributed to Michael Fallon, Mark Verheiden, and Mike Werb. Though New Line Cinema originally saw the picture as a possible Horror franchise – something much more akin with the tone of the books – director Russell has long been credited with pushing the project in the direction of the superhero comedy, something inspired by the Tex Avery cartoons of his youth. Up-and-coming comedian Jim Carrey was cast as the lead, and there was no doubt that the actor’s physicality would lend itself greatly to cartoonish passion required to bring all of this to life.
The result?
Well, Wikipedia.org reports that The Mask’s global box office haul nearly caught up with aforementioned Batman feature. Its profitability – based entirely on cost versus returns – kept the fondly-remembered Carrey project as one of the most successful comic-to-film adaptations ever. That, in itself, speaks volumes; and The Mask rightfully deserves its place in film history, never quite slowing down once it hits high gear.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
Homing in on the equally Gothic and hard-boiled aesthetic that propelled Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns (in comic books) – an older Batman comes out of retirement to take up his vigilanteism again – to unimagined heights, Burton brought the caped crusader, his city, and even that one unique corner of the entire DC Universe to life in ways that had generally been reserved for animation. Darks grew darker, and pervasive light was snuffed out in favor of shadows. Villains turned more than a bit obtuse and wacky. The cinematography was a bit off-center, rendering Gotham City as some kind of baroque nightmare plucked from the frames of film noir. And – most importantly – Batman, the Batmobile, the Batwing, and a plethora of Bat-gadgets were impressively designed to fit uniquely into this landscape, bringing an all-new aesthetic to the world of crime-fighting the audiences hadn’t seen before and Hollywood would attempt to recreate in like-minded features for about a decade after.
It's this domain in which 1994’s The Mask tried to loosely recapture that magic but with a more family-friendly vibe. Directed by Chuck Russell (1987’s A Nightmare On Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors and 1988’s The Blob remake), The Mask was only loosely based on the mythology as originally crafted Mike Richardson for Dark Horse Comics. The film script shows attributed to Michael Fallon, Mark Verheiden, and Mike Werb. Though New Line Cinema originally saw the picture as a possible Horror franchise – something much more akin with the tone of the books – director Russell has long been credited with pushing the project in the direction of the superhero comedy, something inspired by the Tex Avery cartoons of his youth. Up-and-coming comedian Jim Carrey was cast as the lead, and there was no doubt that the actor’s physicality would lend itself greatly to cartoonish passion required to bring all of this to life.
The result?
Well, Wikipedia.org reports that The Mask’s global box office haul nearly caught up with aforementioned Batman feature. Its profitability – based entirely on cost versus returns – kept the fondly-remembered Carrey project as one of the most successful comic-to-film adaptations ever. That, in itself, speaks volumes; and The Mask rightfully deserves its place in film history, never quite slowing down once it hits high gear.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Bank clerk Stanley Ipkiss is transformed into a manic superhero when he wears a mysterious mask.”
Undoubtedly, 1994 was the year of Jim Carrey.
In rather spectacular fashion – the kind which audiences don’t see that often – the actor headlined three big projects. Ace Ventura: Pet Detective set the stage for what was to follow, with The Mask giving him an opportunity to really get ‘smokin’,’ and Dumb And Dumber rounded out the triple threat with sheer, unbridled lunacy. He followed those up the very next year taking on the role of The Riddler in Joel Schumacher’s Batman Forever – the franchise that inspired a great deal of The Mask’s original look – and it looked like the funny man was sitting on top of the world. Indeed, the decade the followed was very good to the talent; and – as was said above – rarely does any genius get this good an introduction to audiences.
For what it’s worth, I’ve always found The Mask the weakest of the three films.
Honestly, this is no fault of Carrey’s because I think his work in it is probably as good as could be expected. Comedy is one of the toughest genres for any man or woman to be consistently entertaining in, more so because times change and what audiences find funny today isn’t necessarily what they found mildly hilarious one, two, or three decades earlier. Some jokes don’t resonate as well because they’re written in some kind of wider chronology, and the effectiveness of some punchlines rely too much on the ‘here’ and ‘now.’ This isn’t the case to any great degree with Mask, and I credit the screenwriters and director Russell for keeping much of the humor tied more to the film’s characters and immediate circumstances. It’s grounded in its own reality, and that almost always works.
Where Mask fails for me is that it never quite universally embraces its preferred aesthetics. Some of the settings and plot points are very reminiscent of what Warren Beatty did to greater affect in Dick Tracy (1990) where the actor and director chose to ground everything in the 1930’s and 1940’s art deco milieu. Every single detail – from costumes set design to handheld props – had to fit keenly within this framework, making it downright exhausting for critics to detect so much as a hiccup artistically from what Beatty and his staff assembled. Clearly, this was the direction that Russell intended; and yet the script gets sidetracked with things that just don’t mesh as well in key development spots. It may seem small, but a gang of street toughs dressed like a bike club stands out like a sore thumb against this backdrop, as do the idiotic garage mechanics which only have a minute or two of screen time. Small choices like this inevitably break what works so well within Mask’s spell, and Russell should’ve known better.
“Bank clerk Stanley Ipkiss is transformed into a manic superhero when he wears a mysterious mask.”
Undoubtedly, 1994 was the year of Jim Carrey.
In rather spectacular fashion – the kind which audiences don’t see that often – the actor headlined three big projects. Ace Ventura: Pet Detective set the stage for what was to follow, with The Mask giving him an opportunity to really get ‘smokin’,’ and Dumb And Dumber rounded out the triple threat with sheer, unbridled lunacy. He followed those up the very next year taking on the role of The Riddler in Joel Schumacher’s Batman Forever – the franchise that inspired a great deal of The Mask’s original look – and it looked like the funny man was sitting on top of the world. Indeed, the decade the followed was very good to the talent; and – as was said above – rarely does any genius get this good an introduction to audiences.
For what it’s worth, I’ve always found The Mask the weakest of the three films.
Honestly, this is no fault of Carrey’s because I think his work in it is probably as good as could be expected. Comedy is one of the toughest genres for any man or woman to be consistently entertaining in, more so because times change and what audiences find funny today isn’t necessarily what they found mildly hilarious one, two, or three decades earlier. Some jokes don’t resonate as well because they’re written in some kind of wider chronology, and the effectiveness of some punchlines rely too much on the ‘here’ and ‘now.’ This isn’t the case to any great degree with Mask, and I credit the screenwriters and director Russell for keeping much of the humor tied more to the film’s characters and immediate circumstances. It’s grounded in its own reality, and that almost always works.
Where Mask fails for me is that it never quite universally embraces its preferred aesthetics. Some of the settings and plot points are very reminiscent of what Warren Beatty did to greater affect in Dick Tracy (1990) where the actor and director chose to ground everything in the 1930’s and 1940’s art deco milieu. Every single detail – from costumes set design to handheld props – had to fit keenly within this framework, making it downright exhausting for critics to detect so much as a hiccup artistically from what Beatty and his staff assembled. Clearly, this was the direction that Russell intended; and yet the script gets sidetracked with things that just don’t mesh as well in key development spots. It may seem small, but a gang of street toughs dressed like a bike club stands out like a sore thumb against this backdrop, as do the idiotic garage mechanics which only have a minute or two of screen time. Small choices like this inevitably break what works so well within Mask’s spell, and Russell should’ve known better.
In a world wherein everything looks like it was either (A) drawn from the 1930’s or (B) plucked from a cartoon sequence, minor distractions should and must be eliminated. Perhaps over budgetary constraints or simple oversight, Russell and company let a few blemishes get in the way; and, yes, these do cheapen what otherwise could’ve been about as devilish a comic diversion that’s ever come to life. Their film is still good – damn good in spots – but I’ll always wish for more just as did Stanley Ipkiss when he caught himself looking deep into Cameron Diaz’s eyes.
The Mask (1994) was produced by New Line Productions and Dark Horse Entertainment. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights and sounds to this 4K restoration to be just plain fabulous: the audio is particularly impressive given how well all of it has to sync with what’s happening visually, and this is not something I usually notice. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? My goodness, Arrow Films doesn’t disappoint as the disc has two commentary tracks along with an exhaustive assortment of shorts (including a deleted opening that’s kinda spiffy, if you ask me) so plan to spend a fair amount of time with this one. (FYI: Russell’s commentary is great, but it drags in the middle a bit. Just a mention.)
Recommended.
At best, The Mask (1994) is an oddity, a kinda/sorta superhero story heavily geared for children that the tone never quite works exclusively. At worst? Well, it’s an occasionally interesting bit of live action slapstick that works well enough to entertain just about anyone who shows up for a viewing. Made during Carrey’s breakout era, it’s still a surprisingly reserved performance – given the onscreen antics the comedian-turned-actor would achieve over time – and probably set the standard for his ongoing association with family fare. Despite a few unique bits, the end result is still forgettable because the director, cast, and material never quite coalesced to the point of theatrical perfection, fusing the art deco settings, the highs and lows of violence, and the manic intensity of cartoonish overkill into one accomplished whole. But all of it rests on Carrey’s capable shoulders … and what an incredible introduction to his career it remains!
In the interest of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Mask (1994) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
The Mask (1994) was produced by New Line Productions and Dark Horse Entertainment. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights and sounds to this 4K restoration to be just plain fabulous: the audio is particularly impressive given how well all of it has to sync with what’s happening visually, and this is not something I usually notice. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? My goodness, Arrow Films doesn’t disappoint as the disc has two commentary tracks along with an exhaustive assortment of shorts (including a deleted opening that’s kinda spiffy, if you ask me) so plan to spend a fair amount of time with this one. (FYI: Russell’s commentary is great, but it drags in the middle a bit. Just a mention.)
Recommended.
At best, The Mask (1994) is an oddity, a kinda/sorta superhero story heavily geared for children that the tone never quite works exclusively. At worst? Well, it’s an occasionally interesting bit of live action slapstick that works well enough to entertain just about anyone who shows up for a viewing. Made during Carrey’s breakout era, it’s still a surprisingly reserved performance – given the onscreen antics the comedian-turned-actor would achieve over time – and probably set the standard for his ongoing association with family fare. Despite a few unique bits, the end result is still forgettable because the director, cast, and material never quite coalesced to the point of theatrical perfection, fusing the art deco settings, the highs and lows of violence, and the manic intensity of cartoonish overkill into one accomplished whole. But all of it rests on Carrey’s capable shoulders … and what an incredible introduction to his career it remains!
In the interest of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Mask (1994) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ