- Published on
in memoriam
Folks, I've just noticed that word has reached the World Wide Web regarding the passage of actress Paula Shaw. Hers isn't exactly a name many might recognize -- her genre credentials are a collection of some small roles -- so I'm going to copy-and-paste the information provided on her corresponding Daily Citation Page (July 17th) for those interested:
When two of the biggest Horror icons of their day came on the silver screen in 2003's Freddy Vs Jason, Paula Shaw joined the proceedings in the role of Jason's mother. Other genre appearances include work aboard such properties as Communion (1989), M.A.N.T.I.S., The X-Files, The Outer Limits, The New Addams Family, So Weird, The Twilight Zone, Chupacabra Terror (2005), Killer Bash (2005), R.L. Stine's The Haunting Hour, Supernatural, iZombie, Van Helsing, Android Employed, and Day Of The Dead. Though she's no longer with us, Shaw was born on this day in 1941.
Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Ms. Shaw.
May she rest in peace.
-- EZ
When two of the biggest Horror icons of their day came on the silver screen in 2003's Freddy Vs Jason, Paula Shaw joined the proceedings in the role of Jason's mother. Other genre appearances include work aboard such properties as Communion (1989), M.A.N.T.I.S., The X-Files, The Outer Limits, The New Addams Family, So Weird, The Twilight Zone, Chupacabra Terror (2005), Killer Bash (2005), R.L. Stine's The Haunting Hour, Supernatural, iZombie, Van Helsing, Android Employed, and Day Of The Dead. Though she's no longer with us, Shaw was born on this day in 1941.
Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Ms. Shaw.
May she rest in peace.
-- EZ
- Published on
Well, well, well …
Over the last few months, my email has been inundated with folks encouraging me to check out Ryan Coogler’s box office sensation Sinners (2025). The popular film certainly struck a chord with audiences to the impressive tune of $365M – a phenomenal take for an original Horror property – and continues to win over fans who are just discovering it on home video or streaming. Interestingly enough, one happy reader was even aware that yours truly had previously penned a novel about vampires set at the start of American Prohibition, so he was understandably curious what my two cents on the flick might be. (I’ve mentioned before that I’m a huge nerd about the history of that era, so much so that I allowed the influence to carry over into my extracurricular activities.)
So, it is with great pleasure that I announce that I’ve finally seen it: I took it in last night with a streaming on HBO Max. Because these thoughts are relatively raw and not exactly formed as I generally pen my critiques, I’m really not even going to call this a review exactly. Instead, I’ll just throw up a few observations about what worked for me and what didn’t quite achieve what I think was intended, foregoing my usual writing structure so that this can be a bit more free form.
First up … yes, it’s a very, very, very good picture.
For those of you who don’t know, Sinners tells the story of the SmokeStack Brothers – Smoke and Stack both played by the talented Michael B. Jordan – in their quest to come back to the Deep South with knowledge and skills over what it takes to set up and successful ‘juke joint’ and take over the night life of Clarksdale, Mississippi. In the process of making their dream a reality, they go about bringing together friends and allies – musicians, cooks, servers, etc. – over the course of one twenty-four-hour day. Since all of this takes place in a very compressed period of time, there are a good handful of faces introduced quickly, and – for the most part – writer/director Coogler rather seamlessly accomplishes an awful lot with surprisingly minimal effort.
Over the last few months, my email has been inundated with folks encouraging me to check out Ryan Coogler’s box office sensation Sinners (2025). The popular film certainly struck a chord with audiences to the impressive tune of $365M – a phenomenal take for an original Horror property – and continues to win over fans who are just discovering it on home video or streaming. Interestingly enough, one happy reader was even aware that yours truly had previously penned a novel about vampires set at the start of American Prohibition, so he was understandably curious what my two cents on the flick might be. (I’ve mentioned before that I’m a huge nerd about the history of that era, so much so that I allowed the influence to carry over into my extracurricular activities.)
So, it is with great pleasure that I announce that I’ve finally seen it: I took it in last night with a streaming on HBO Max. Because these thoughts are relatively raw and not exactly formed as I generally pen my critiques, I’m really not even going to call this a review exactly. Instead, I’ll just throw up a few observations about what worked for me and what didn’t quite achieve what I think was intended, foregoing my usual writing structure so that this can be a bit more free form.
First up … yes, it’s a very, very, very good picture.
For those of you who don’t know, Sinners tells the story of the SmokeStack Brothers – Smoke and Stack both played by the talented Michael B. Jordan – in their quest to come back to the Deep South with knowledge and skills over what it takes to set up and successful ‘juke joint’ and take over the night life of Clarksdale, Mississippi. In the process of making their dream a reality, they go about bringing together friends and allies – musicians, cooks, servers, etc. – over the course of one twenty-four-hour day. Since all of this takes place in a very compressed period of time, there are a good handful of faces introduced quickly, and – for the most part – writer/director Coogler rather seamlessly accomplishes an awful lot with surprisingly minimal effort.
Unlike so many others who’ve written about the film, I’m going to argue that more could have been done here to establish this small group of supporting faces. Thankfully, there aren’t a great number, but I’ll still insist that one or two or three have some personal history with the brothers that seemed a bit nebulous. While there’s most likely just enough given to make it workable, I’m always of the mindset that knowing a bit more about these allegiances makes me care more about them: as it stands, there’s one or two deaths that don’t resonate because, frankly, I wasn’t encouraged to know them enough to make that possible. (Again, diff’rent strokes for diff’rent folks.)
Structurally, Sinners works like a two-act play with the first half putting all of the pieces of this fictional chess board in motion while the second half works to deliver on the whole premise. In fact, I’d go so far as to argue that it’s one of the best instances I’ve seen on film of such a formation as Coogler very clearly approaches them with different aesthetics. All of this set-up is brought to life with some with some daytime cinematography – everything crisp, vibrant, and easily identifiable – while the pay-off of Act II begins with an almost dreamlike sequence underscoring the importance of music to the whole tale. (Pay close attention to it as music is the only consistent thread through all of it … with very good reason.)
Basically, evil intrudes – much in the way that fiendishness does in every classic Horror story – and our protagonists (not necessarily ‘heroes’) are left to fight for their very lives: a small but growing clan of vampires descends upon Smoke & Stack’s homegrown nightclub, forcing the remaining patrons to either flee the scene, wait for sunlight, or take a stand. Though initially the consensus seems to be to wait out these hungry devils, one angry woman decides that isn’t good enough for her; and she invites the horde in for one big chaotic showdown … one that even pits the twin brothers against one another in the process.
Much ado has been written critically about Jordan’s work as the kinda/sorta troubled siblings. Clearly, the actor has the chops to play as many different faces as he wants; yet for me this just didn’t quite work as well as it should have. My biggest complaint is that – because they’re twins – their mannerisms just weren’t different enough from one another for me to always fully appreciate whether I was seeing Smoke or whether I was seeing Stack; and this did get in the way in the second half of my enjoying some of the proceedings. Mind you: it does play out significantly in the big finish – I’ve no problem with their showdown – but Coogler could’ve worked harder at establishing two identities instead of a shared one, and I think this would’ve improved the picture even more.
Structurally, Sinners works like a two-act play with the first half putting all of the pieces of this fictional chess board in motion while the second half works to deliver on the whole premise. In fact, I’d go so far as to argue that it’s one of the best instances I’ve seen on film of such a formation as Coogler very clearly approaches them with different aesthetics. All of this set-up is brought to life with some with some daytime cinematography – everything crisp, vibrant, and easily identifiable – while the pay-off of Act II begins with an almost dreamlike sequence underscoring the importance of music to the whole tale. (Pay close attention to it as music is the only consistent thread through all of it … with very good reason.)
Basically, evil intrudes – much in the way that fiendishness does in every classic Horror story – and our protagonists (not necessarily ‘heroes’) are left to fight for their very lives: a small but growing clan of vampires descends upon Smoke & Stack’s homegrown nightclub, forcing the remaining patrons to either flee the scene, wait for sunlight, or take a stand. Though initially the consensus seems to be to wait out these hungry devils, one angry woman decides that isn’t good enough for her; and she invites the horde in for one big chaotic showdown … one that even pits the twin brothers against one another in the process.
Much ado has been written critically about Jordan’s work as the kinda/sorta troubled siblings. Clearly, the actor has the chops to play as many different faces as he wants; yet for me this just didn’t quite work as well as it should have. My biggest complaint is that – because they’re twins – their mannerisms just weren’t different enough from one another for me to always fully appreciate whether I was seeing Smoke or whether I was seeing Stack; and this did get in the way in the second half of my enjoying some of the proceedings. Mind you: it does play out significantly in the big finish – I’ve no problem with their showdown – but Coogler could’ve worked harder at establishing two identities instead of a shared one, and I think this would’ve improved the picture even more.
Stylistically, Sinners isn’t so much a Horror film as most audiences have come to know the genre. At just under two hours and twenty minutes, it’s vastly longer than traditional releases – not a complaint, just an observation – and I could understand why some might show up wondering what’s so horrific about the film. The true terror doesn’t begin until well into the first half, and – even then – the really bloody and gratuitous splendor many come to expect waits until midway in the second half to unfurl. Consequently, it occasionally feels uneven – as a Horror film – because there is a great degree of emphasis on construction. It takes time for this to really come up to speed; once it does, it’s grand, yes, but I’m thinking casual fans might feel a bit lost in the beginning.
Curiously, I actually found myself liking more of Sinners when it wasn’t about vampires and their dark shenanigans. Coogler’s attention to detail at his story’s dramatic elements – along with bringing to life a somewhat dark period and place in the Deep South – is really damn impressive. It’s reported that all of this cost $90M, and – dare I say – this budget was incredibly well spent in achieving the look of the 1930’s with cars, buildings, set dressings, and the like. The era literally pops off the screen in spots, and I was gobsmacked over how incredible all of it translated visually. Hats off to the craftsmen and women here as they achieved something unbelievable.
Now, once the flick turns from a somewhat period piece into Horror, Sinners gets a bit rough. As I’ve mentioned, there’s this single sequence – a kinda/sorta dreamlike fusion between the now, the past, and the future – which feels more like a bloated yet artistic television commercial than it does an actual part of the feature. While I understand this is exactly the kind of thing critics, academics, and art aficionados love about storytelling, I always find them a bit intrusive, a bit distracting, chiefly because they are more about technique than anything else. What others found particular immersive broke the spell of an otherwise compelling film. It’s good, yes, maybe even great, but I couldn’t put aside the distracting quality of it, so much so that I actually went back and watched it twice before continuing. It left me wanting to know more, but it also jerked me out of the momentary spell of film-watching.
Additionally, I’ve a major bone to pick with the eventual faceoff between what turns out to be the good guys and the bad guys. In this final confrontation, the truth is our leads are vastly (VASTLY) outnumbered, and yet – for reasons that make no narrative sense – the vampires don’t exactly seize that advantage. Only a handful of bloodsuckers really go into the barn in that last reel, and this dumbfounding strategy pretty much allows for the heroes to hold out much longer than they likely should have. It smacks of a screenwriter’s convention – one structured in such a way as to allow for only those events desired to take place – so it doesn’t seem authentic in any way. Realizing I’m likely in the majority on that front, I’ll just leave it as it stands.
Curiously, I actually found myself liking more of Sinners when it wasn’t about vampires and their dark shenanigans. Coogler’s attention to detail at his story’s dramatic elements – along with bringing to life a somewhat dark period and place in the Deep South – is really damn impressive. It’s reported that all of this cost $90M, and – dare I say – this budget was incredibly well spent in achieving the look of the 1930’s with cars, buildings, set dressings, and the like. The era literally pops off the screen in spots, and I was gobsmacked over how incredible all of it translated visually. Hats off to the craftsmen and women here as they achieved something unbelievable.
Now, once the flick turns from a somewhat period piece into Horror, Sinners gets a bit rough. As I’ve mentioned, there’s this single sequence – a kinda/sorta dreamlike fusion between the now, the past, and the future – which feels more like a bloated yet artistic television commercial than it does an actual part of the feature. While I understand this is exactly the kind of thing critics, academics, and art aficionados love about storytelling, I always find them a bit intrusive, a bit distracting, chiefly because they are more about technique than anything else. What others found particular immersive broke the spell of an otherwise compelling film. It’s good, yes, maybe even great, but I couldn’t put aside the distracting quality of it, so much so that I actually went back and watched it twice before continuing. It left me wanting to know more, but it also jerked me out of the momentary spell of film-watching.
Additionally, I’ve a major bone to pick with the eventual faceoff between what turns out to be the good guys and the bad guys. In this final confrontation, the truth is our leads are vastly (VASTLY) outnumbered, and yet – for reasons that make no narrative sense – the vampires don’t exactly seize that advantage. Only a handful of bloodsuckers really go into the barn in that last reel, and this dumbfounding strategy pretty much allows for the heroes to hold out much longer than they likely should have. It smacks of a screenwriter’s convention – one structured in such a way as to allow for only those events desired to take place – so it doesn’t seem authentic in any way. Realizing I’m likely in the majority on that front, I’ll just leave it as it stands.
Interestingly enough, the vampires of Sinners are – ahem – surprisingly talented. Instead of using the screen’s long-established ability to merely look mesmerizing to potential victims and ‘glamor’ them into submission, they use words and – even more importantly – music to seduce anyone in earshot of the spells. Coogler fashions an intoxicating mix in several key sequences, disarming his audience in unison with his Nosferatu charming those whose blood they seek to drink; and I think it’s this elegance that elevates what would otherwise be some very predictable occurrences. There’s singing. There’s poetry. There’s even a bit of dancing. These are not the skills that Horror fans have long expected from Count Dracula, and this fact alone makes Sinners something worth watching. Some might find it a bit funny – I honestly laughed at one bit, and I can see the folks behind Scary Movie inevitably having a field day with one vignette – but there’s no denying its majesty.
Where I do have a pretty significant issue with the film involves that big finish. As I’m trying to avoid any major spoilers (there’s a pretty significant one involving the brothers), this might be hard to follow, but I’ll still give it a go.
Eventually, all of the brouhaha boils down to the lead vampire Remmick (Jack O’Connell) trying to convince Sammie (Miles Caton) to willingly join his clan because of the young man’s musical artistry. (Trust me: it’ll all make sense when and if you watch it.) There’s no escaping the fact that Remmick will have the man’s soul – at all costs – if possible, but he holds out a kinda/sorta fleeting hope that the bluesman recognizes the value of his craft being immortal, so this brief showdown has more than the usual significance. However, Smoke shows up in the nick of time with a wooden stake in his hands and pierces the vampire through the heart from the back; and this spells certain doom for the entire clan that’s joined in some kind of symbiotic relationship, giving them all pain before the sun rises and reduces everyone to ash.
Where I take issue with this is actually quite simple: how in the Holy Hell did Smoke manage to cross from the barn, through all of those vampires, and up to Remmick’s back without anyone intercepting him? Granted, it wasn’t a long way from the barn; but that is where we last saw him. Between the barn and the lake where Remmick and Sammie were joined in combat, there was a small horde of the undead … and yet Smoke had no difficulty whatsoever apparently in crossing through this small army and delivering the death blow to the chief villain.
In a sane universe, this couldn’t have happened.
But … in the movies?
Well, this is the kind of gaffe some movies endure between they’re constructed to be entertainment. They don’t always make sense, but they’ll never sacrifice the scene with the loss of spectacle.
Recommended.
-- EZ
Where I do have a pretty significant issue with the film involves that big finish. As I’m trying to avoid any major spoilers (there’s a pretty significant one involving the brothers), this might be hard to follow, but I’ll still give it a go.
Eventually, all of the brouhaha boils down to the lead vampire Remmick (Jack O’Connell) trying to convince Sammie (Miles Caton) to willingly join his clan because of the young man’s musical artistry. (Trust me: it’ll all make sense when and if you watch it.) There’s no escaping the fact that Remmick will have the man’s soul – at all costs – if possible, but he holds out a kinda/sorta fleeting hope that the bluesman recognizes the value of his craft being immortal, so this brief showdown has more than the usual significance. However, Smoke shows up in the nick of time with a wooden stake in his hands and pierces the vampire through the heart from the back; and this spells certain doom for the entire clan that’s joined in some kind of symbiotic relationship, giving them all pain before the sun rises and reduces everyone to ash.
Where I take issue with this is actually quite simple: how in the Holy Hell did Smoke manage to cross from the barn, through all of those vampires, and up to Remmick’s back without anyone intercepting him? Granted, it wasn’t a long way from the barn; but that is where we last saw him. Between the barn and the lake where Remmick and Sammie were joined in combat, there was a small horde of the undead … and yet Smoke had no difficulty whatsoever apparently in crossing through this small army and delivering the death blow to the chief villain.
In a sane universe, this couldn’t have happened.
But … in the movies?
Well, this is the kind of gaffe some movies endure between they’re constructed to be entertainment. They don’t always make sense, but they’ll never sacrifice the scene with the loss of spectacle.
Recommended.
-- 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:
“Three macabre tales from the latest issue of a boy's favorite comic book, dealing with a vengeful wooden Native American, a monstrous blob in a lake, and an undying hitchhiker.”
It’s never easy to review anthology films.
By their very nature, anthologies are aggregates of smaller stories; and it’s probably widely accepted that – at the very least – quality varies. Some tales are stronger than others, while still some yarns are fortunate enough to lure greater actors and actresses to these small roles. When the anthology is produced under a single roof (i.e. studio), then minimally audiences are assured that the relative quality of the effects work carries across each chapter; and yet it’s probably best to accept there still may be something undercooked here and there so that disappointment can be curbed in advance. Still, kudos are extended to creative forces that keep these efforts alive as I remain a fan of such fare whenever I can find it.
Now, Creepshow 2 (1987) is a follow-up to the successful original Creepshow (1982) – obviously, you say – but it didn’t quite have the spit and polish of the earlier flick. Clearly, it was written and produced on a considerably lower budget as even the gore itself is barely – ahem – presentable. While the first film’s biggest names behind the scenes – George A. Romero and Stephen King – were heavily involved in the follow-up, the production and eventual distribution shifted from one studio outlet to another; and I’ve read that these new suits just didn’t quite see a sequel as being all that relevant. Consequently, it’s fairly easy to see that the second collection looks like a bargain basement alternative to the polish of what Warner Bros. brought to market in 1982.
So, yes, Creepshow 2 is a flawed second coming for the Horror franchise, but it still has a few bright spots worth mentioning.
First, Romero and King’s involvement assured audiences that there would still be something to see. Both were still at or near the height of their prominence at the time, and both arguably knew something about crafting stories audiences could embrace. Second, director Michael Gornick had already ‘cut his teeth’ on anthology formats, having ushered four episodes of the fondly remembered Tales From The Darkside (1984-1988) to life on the small screen. His stewardship also presented hope that this crop of parables had relative experience at play behind the camera. Interestingly enough, Gornick had also worked as the director of cinematography on the original film. Lastly, Creepshow 2 followed in the footsteps of its predecessor by casting a handful of familiar faces, screen veterans whose participation alone gave the project a hint of gravitas the did wonders the first time it was tried as well.
In order to be as fair as possible to the completed film, I’ll offer up some reflections on its separate pieces and save a few remarks on the whole afterwards.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Three macabre tales from the latest issue of a boy's favorite comic book, dealing with a vengeful wooden Native American, a monstrous blob in a lake, and an undying hitchhiker.”
It’s never easy to review anthology films.
By their very nature, anthologies are aggregates of smaller stories; and it’s probably widely accepted that – at the very least – quality varies. Some tales are stronger than others, while still some yarns are fortunate enough to lure greater actors and actresses to these small roles. When the anthology is produced under a single roof (i.e. studio), then minimally audiences are assured that the relative quality of the effects work carries across each chapter; and yet it’s probably best to accept there still may be something undercooked here and there so that disappointment can be curbed in advance. Still, kudos are extended to creative forces that keep these efforts alive as I remain a fan of such fare whenever I can find it.
Now, Creepshow 2 (1987) is a follow-up to the successful original Creepshow (1982) – obviously, you say – but it didn’t quite have the spit and polish of the earlier flick. Clearly, it was written and produced on a considerably lower budget as even the gore itself is barely – ahem – presentable. While the first film’s biggest names behind the scenes – George A. Romero and Stephen King – were heavily involved in the follow-up, the production and eventual distribution shifted from one studio outlet to another; and I’ve read that these new suits just didn’t quite see a sequel as being all that relevant. Consequently, it’s fairly easy to see that the second collection looks like a bargain basement alternative to the polish of what Warner Bros. brought to market in 1982.
So, yes, Creepshow 2 is a flawed second coming for the Horror franchise, but it still has a few bright spots worth mentioning.
First, Romero and King’s involvement assured audiences that there would still be something to see. Both were still at or near the height of their prominence at the time, and both arguably knew something about crafting stories audiences could embrace. Second, director Michael Gornick had already ‘cut his teeth’ on anthology formats, having ushered four episodes of the fondly remembered Tales From The Darkside (1984-1988) to life on the small screen. His stewardship also presented hope that this crop of parables had relative experience at play behind the camera. Interestingly enough, Gornick had also worked as the director of cinematography on the original film. Lastly, Creepshow 2 followed in the footsteps of its predecessor by casting a handful of familiar faces, screen veterans whose participation alone gave the project a hint of gravitas the did wonders the first time it was tried as well.
In order to be as fair as possible to the completed film, I’ll offer up some reflections on its separate pieces and save a few remarks on the whole afterwards.
Old Chief Wood’nhead
The ultimate rural enclave of Dead River, Arizona has seen better days, but the perpetually dead economy won’t keep local hardware dealer Ray Spruce (played by George Kennedy) from still keeping his store in the best condition possible. Despite his wife Martha’s insistence that it may be time to hang it all up, the merchant proudly keeps doing ‘the little things,’ even refreshing the war paint on his carved statue dubbed ‘Old Chief Wood’nhead’ out front. When a tribe of local ruffians break in, rob the place, and murder the Spruces, it’s the magical figure that comes to life for the sole purpose of serving justice … the old-fashioned kind.
Honestly, there’s a bit more to the story that involves Ray’s commitment to the local Indian tribe as well as their reciprocal respect that involves some prized jewelry; but even such local flavor barely elevates the effectiveness of this rather dry accounting of supernatural vigilantism. Of course, it doesn’t help matters that the burglars are given mostly the stereotypically stupid backstories – angered Sam Whitemoon (Holt McCallany) is more comical than villainous, Fatso Gribbens (David Holbrook) looks like he was pulled from a failed Animal House rip-off, and Andy Cavenaugh (Don Harvey) is the predictable small-town rich kid who’ll do anything for popularity – but kudos to King and Romero for knowing who audiences would cheer to see eliminated.
About the only thing in here deserving praise is the seminal cigar store Indian (Dan Kamin). Even under layers of make-up and/or prosthetics, the actor manages to exude just enough emotion to show there’s anger simmering from years of being fixed on the street watching these disrespecting youths go about their antics. While I suspect more emphasis was intended on evoking some mysticism about Native American honor and heritage, the sheer Horror of having an unstoppable force – one who still culturally accepts collecting scalps as a form of payment – is enough to make this otherwise pretentious installment worth sitting through.
The ultimate rural enclave of Dead River, Arizona has seen better days, but the perpetually dead economy won’t keep local hardware dealer Ray Spruce (played by George Kennedy) from still keeping his store in the best condition possible. Despite his wife Martha’s insistence that it may be time to hang it all up, the merchant proudly keeps doing ‘the little things,’ even refreshing the war paint on his carved statue dubbed ‘Old Chief Wood’nhead’ out front. When a tribe of local ruffians break in, rob the place, and murder the Spruces, it’s the magical figure that comes to life for the sole purpose of serving justice … the old-fashioned kind.
Honestly, there’s a bit more to the story that involves Ray’s commitment to the local Indian tribe as well as their reciprocal respect that involves some prized jewelry; but even such local flavor barely elevates the effectiveness of this rather dry accounting of supernatural vigilantism. Of course, it doesn’t help matters that the burglars are given mostly the stereotypically stupid backstories – angered Sam Whitemoon (Holt McCallany) is more comical than villainous, Fatso Gribbens (David Holbrook) looks like he was pulled from a failed Animal House rip-off, and Andy Cavenaugh (Don Harvey) is the predictable small-town rich kid who’ll do anything for popularity – but kudos to King and Romero for knowing who audiences would cheer to see eliminated.
About the only thing in here deserving praise is the seminal cigar store Indian (Dan Kamin). Even under layers of make-up and/or prosthetics, the actor manages to exude just enough emotion to show there’s anger simmering from years of being fixed on the street watching these disrespecting youths go about their antics. While I suspect more emphasis was intended on evoking some mysticism about Native American honor and heritage, the sheer Horror of having an unstoppable force – one who still culturally accepts collecting scalps as a form of payment – is enough to make this otherwise pretentious installment worth sitting through.
The Raft
Deke (Paul Satterfield), Randy (Daniel Beer), Laverne (Jeremy Green), and Rachel (Page Hannah) are the typical smalltown teenagers out on the hunt for a good time. With a healthy stash of weed and a fast car, they make their way to the outskirts of town, a place where the local swimming hole is finally without a handful of tourists or the wayward fisherman who’ve vacated the premises for greener pastures. With excitement, they strip down (not completely) and stumble into the cold water, heading out to the platform anchored in the middle of the lake for some quality time away. Before they know it, their raft will be surrounded by some murky slick with an unquenchable appetite for – you guessed it – damn near anything it can envelop.
Without a doubt, this is the highpoint of Creepshow 2, a visceral but simply told story of four teens who find themselves in jeopardy as the result of nothing more than a quick swim at the end of summer season. (FYI: this should’ve been the grand finale, but it was curiously stuck in the middle.) The effects work of the creature itself are simple in a few spots, but they’re still good enough to convey the fact that there’s a substance there just beneath the surface ... and it decidedly ain’t friendly! To the crew’s credit, their sequences involving some tar-like matter eating these young folks alive still looks fabulous decades later, some nasty deaths that might still elicit the necessary horrified cringing today.
Surprisingly, one might even find humor in the fact that these hormonally-driven teenagers can’t put aside the lustfulness long enough to live out the day. Given the opportunity, the somewhat pervy Randy tries to take advantage of the sleeping Laverne in the closing when he opts to feel her up whilst she’s still at risk but counting sheep. Of course – this being Horror – he doesn’t achieve the climax he’s desiring (we do, to a degree); but the smart script is yet another cautionary reminder that premarital coitus will almost always – always – be the death of someone … or two. Nice touch … and a killer ending.
Deke (Paul Satterfield), Randy (Daniel Beer), Laverne (Jeremy Green), and Rachel (Page Hannah) are the typical smalltown teenagers out on the hunt for a good time. With a healthy stash of weed and a fast car, they make their way to the outskirts of town, a place where the local swimming hole is finally without a handful of tourists or the wayward fisherman who’ve vacated the premises for greener pastures. With excitement, they strip down (not completely) and stumble into the cold water, heading out to the platform anchored in the middle of the lake for some quality time away. Before they know it, their raft will be surrounded by some murky slick with an unquenchable appetite for – you guessed it – damn near anything it can envelop.
Without a doubt, this is the highpoint of Creepshow 2, a visceral but simply told story of four teens who find themselves in jeopardy as the result of nothing more than a quick swim at the end of summer season. (FYI: this should’ve been the grand finale, but it was curiously stuck in the middle.) The effects work of the creature itself are simple in a few spots, but they’re still good enough to convey the fact that there’s a substance there just beneath the surface ... and it decidedly ain’t friendly! To the crew’s credit, their sequences involving some tar-like matter eating these young folks alive still looks fabulous decades later, some nasty deaths that might still elicit the necessary horrified cringing today.
Surprisingly, one might even find humor in the fact that these hormonally-driven teenagers can’t put aside the lustfulness long enough to live out the day. Given the opportunity, the somewhat pervy Randy tries to take advantage of the sleeping Laverne in the closing when he opts to feel her up whilst she’s still at risk but counting sheep. Of course – this being Horror – he doesn’t achieve the climax he’s desiring (we do, to a degree); but the smart script is yet another cautionary reminder that premarital coitus will almost always – always – be the death of someone … or two. Nice touch … and a killer ending.
The Hitchhiker
Unhappily married Annie Lansing (the luminous Lois Chiles) finds herself needing to speed home after a late-night tryst with her personal gigolo (David Beecroft). In her haste, she takes one freeway offramp too quickly and accidentally plows over an unfortunate hitchhiker (Tom Wright). Stopping long enough to realize she’s likely killed the man, Lansing eventually races away into the night, hoping to leave her legal troubles behind. But the drive is constantly interrupted with the repeated appearance of the victim who only grows bloodier and bloodier as her desire to see herself rid of him once and for all intensifies.
While I’m not complaining, this is a curious choice to close out the anthology with, mostly because it’s fairly predictable, reasonably uninspired, and has been done to death (pun intended). In fact, everything anthology program has likely had an accounting damn near identical in one way, shape, or form; so, I consider it a lazy choice with which to conclude the fanfare. I think it may’ve been a better opening, but that’s still a minor gripe when this chapter just never brought anything new to the table whatsoever. I’ve read that it stemmed from an idea suggested by King and fleshed out by Romero with the famed novelist substituting some of the dialogue with suggestions of his own.
My biggest problem with the installment is that – for reasons I can only guess to be financial – director Gornick chose to have Chiles speaking out her own thought bubbles whilst stuck behind the wheel of her Cadillac for the duration. Of course, I can appreciate that some of us do talk with ourselves while driving; and I suspect that’s all he was trying to achieve. Sadly, it grows increasingly distracting; and I think all involved would’ve been better served had the actress recorded these lines for voiceover. This way, she would’ve been free to really do more acting onscreen instead of taking time out to speechify everything. A huge creative miss.
Unhappily married Annie Lansing (the luminous Lois Chiles) finds herself needing to speed home after a late-night tryst with her personal gigolo (David Beecroft). In her haste, she takes one freeway offramp too quickly and accidentally plows over an unfortunate hitchhiker (Tom Wright). Stopping long enough to realize she’s likely killed the man, Lansing eventually races away into the night, hoping to leave her legal troubles behind. But the drive is constantly interrupted with the repeated appearance of the victim who only grows bloodier and bloodier as her desire to see herself rid of him once and for all intensifies.
While I’m not complaining, this is a curious choice to close out the anthology with, mostly because it’s fairly predictable, reasonably uninspired, and has been done to death (pun intended). In fact, everything anthology program has likely had an accounting damn near identical in one way, shape, or form; so, I consider it a lazy choice with which to conclude the fanfare. I think it may’ve been a better opening, but that’s still a minor gripe when this chapter just never brought anything new to the table whatsoever. I’ve read that it stemmed from an idea suggested by King and fleshed out by Romero with the famed novelist substituting some of the dialogue with suggestions of his own.
My biggest problem with the installment is that – for reasons I can only guess to be financial – director Gornick chose to have Chiles speaking out her own thought bubbles whilst stuck behind the wheel of her Cadillac for the duration. Of course, I can appreciate that some of us do talk with ourselves while driving; and I suspect that’s all he was trying to achieve. Sadly, it grows increasingly distracting; and I think all involved would’ve been better served had the actress recorded these lines for voiceover. This way, she would’ve been free to really do more acting onscreen instead of taking time out to speechify everything. A huge creative miss.
Now, there is a bit more to Creepshow 2 as producers loosely strung the three chapters together with some garish animation featuring Billy and The Creep (the movie’s narrator). Sadly, it’s another forgettable bit about the dangers of Venus Fly Traps; and yet it’s a forgivable sin if only because it’s delivered as nothing more but filler between the title bouts. On that level – and that level alone – it’s fine: stylistically, the youths are mostly drawn like they’re in their late thirties, so I’m not sure I was ever intended to make anything more of it anyway.
Creepshow 2 (1987) was produced by New World Pictures and Laurel Entertainment, Inc. 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 can still assure you that this reported 4K restoration is mostly pretty solid: yes, there’s some surviving grain, and I thought the audio was a bit muddled in spots as well, but overall, it’s still quite good. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? This is Arrow, and they rarely disappoint. There’s a great assortment of what I believe is mostly archival stuff – interviews, behind-the-scenes, images, etc. – along with a commentary from director Gornick that’s, frankly, a bit dry. It’s good … just a bit slow. Advertising materials suggest that there’s some other items with a physical purchase – artwork, collector’s booklet, etc. – but as I’m only provided an industry copy of the disc I can’t speak to the efficacy of those materials. As is my policy in those circumstances, I always caution “Buyer beware.”
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
Initially, Creepshow 2 is a disappointment, one that really can’t hold a candle to the quality of the original. Its redeeming chapter – The Raft – gets buried in the middle where I suspect many may forget how well it uses the bare bones efficiency of its premise to delivery a wonderful treat. Essentially, it squeezes by at a breezy 90-minutes, so the best I can offer here might be to stay thankful with small favors … even though it definitely should’ve made some viewers scared to go back into the water.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of Creepshow 2 (1987) for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Creepshow 2 (1987) was produced by New World Pictures and Laurel Entertainment, Inc. 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 can still assure you that this reported 4K restoration is mostly pretty solid: yes, there’s some surviving grain, and I thought the audio was a bit muddled in spots as well, but overall, it’s still quite good. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? This is Arrow, and they rarely disappoint. There’s a great assortment of what I believe is mostly archival stuff – interviews, behind-the-scenes, images, etc. – along with a commentary from director Gornick that’s, frankly, a bit dry. It’s good … just a bit slow. Advertising materials suggest that there’s some other items with a physical purchase – artwork, collector’s booklet, etc. – but as I’m only provided an industry copy of the disc I can’t speak to the efficacy of those materials. As is my policy in those circumstances, I always caution “Buyer beware.”
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
Initially, Creepshow 2 is a disappointment, one that really can’t hold a candle to the quality of the original. Its redeeming chapter – The Raft – gets buried in the middle where I suspect many may forget how well it uses the bare bones efficiency of its premise to delivery a wonderful treat. Essentially, it squeezes by at a breezy 90-minutes, so the best I can offer here might be to stay thankful with small favors … even though it definitely should’ve made some viewers scared to go back into the water.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of Creepshow 2 (1987) 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
Back in the days of my distant youth, you were either a Star Trek fan or a Lost In Space fan.
On the schoolyard, there wasn’t much room for compromise. It was either the continuing adventures of Kirk and company, or the Robinson family were appointment television. Both aired in syndication, you see, at the same time on competing channels in my hood; and this being the dark days of entertainment long before streaming and/or home video recorders choices had to be made. For a time, you just couldn’t watch both, even if you wanted, even if that’s what your heart told you was the only lasting solution. As some might guess, I chose Trek … well … except on those days when, fortunately, they were airing an episode I’d already seen, in which case young Will Robinson, the Robot, and Dr. Smith were the next best thing.
For those of you who didn’t grow up with such circumstances and missed the action, Lost In Space really should’ve been more appropriately titled ‘The Will, Robot, And Dr. Smith Adventure Hour’ because – let’s face it – that’s really eighty to ninety percent of what it was. And why not? Here’s this young, bright kid with one of the spiffiest automatons in entertainment history; and they’d spend the better part of every adventure trying to work their way around Dr. Smith’s groveling and sniveling antics. Why, one might even suggest that’s akin to being ‘Shakespeare For Children,’ what with the classic storytelling structure, obvious forces of good and evil, and a bit of monstrous prosthetics, make-up, and reasonably primitive special effects to fill the time.
Even though the franchise was always second fiddle to me, I was definitely interested in seeing how it could translate onto the silver screen back in 1998’s Lost In Space. Believe it or not, I knew the name of screenwriter Akiva Goldsman – largely because of his heavy participation in the Batman Cinematic Universe of its day – so I cautiously hoped for big things. (His 1997 Batman & Robin script pretty much had me sorrowed on his skills, but that’s an argument for another day.) With names like William Hurt, Gary Oldman, Mimi Rogers, and Heather Graham attached, my confidence in the translation was buoyed a bit; and New Line Cinema – as a studio – had a solid track record in genre projects, so much so that one may’ve thought nothing could possibly go wrong.
Well …
On the schoolyard, there wasn’t much room for compromise. It was either the continuing adventures of Kirk and company, or the Robinson family were appointment television. Both aired in syndication, you see, at the same time on competing channels in my hood; and this being the dark days of entertainment long before streaming and/or home video recorders choices had to be made. For a time, you just couldn’t watch both, even if you wanted, even if that’s what your heart told you was the only lasting solution. As some might guess, I chose Trek … well … except on those days when, fortunately, they were airing an episode I’d already seen, in which case young Will Robinson, the Robot, and Dr. Smith were the next best thing.
For those of you who didn’t grow up with such circumstances and missed the action, Lost In Space really should’ve been more appropriately titled ‘The Will, Robot, And Dr. Smith Adventure Hour’ because – let’s face it – that’s really eighty to ninety percent of what it was. And why not? Here’s this young, bright kid with one of the spiffiest automatons in entertainment history; and they’d spend the better part of every adventure trying to work their way around Dr. Smith’s groveling and sniveling antics. Why, one might even suggest that’s akin to being ‘Shakespeare For Children,’ what with the classic storytelling structure, obvious forces of good and evil, and a bit of monstrous prosthetics, make-up, and reasonably primitive special effects to fill the time.
Even though the franchise was always second fiddle to me, I was definitely interested in seeing how it could translate onto the silver screen back in 1998’s Lost In Space. Believe it or not, I knew the name of screenwriter Akiva Goldsman – largely because of his heavy participation in the Batman Cinematic Universe of its day – so I cautiously hoped for big things. (His 1997 Batman & Robin script pretty much had me sorrowed on his skills, but that’s an argument for another day.) With names like William Hurt, Gary Oldman, Mimi Rogers, and Heather Graham attached, my confidence in the translation was buoyed a bit; and New Line Cinema – as a studio – had a solid track record in genre projects, so much so that one may’ve thought nothing could possibly go wrong.
Well …
(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:
“The Robinson family was going into space to fight for a chance for humanity. Now they are fighting to live long enough to find a way home.”
While entertaining in much the same way candy whets one’s appetite instead of sitting down to eat a healthy meal, Lost In Space rockets into the Final Frontier at warp speed but arguably – like its title suggests – never quite goes anywhere. Some of this is understandably tied to the franchise’s core premise – they are ‘lost,’ notwithstanding – but considering storytellers had a few decades with which to come up with something better or something to give it new life the flick feels decidedly flat in all the wrong ways. Great pyrotechnics, excellent production details, and a talented cast and crew can take any property only so far: at some point, stories rule the day, and this is where Lost remained truly lost, likely even for newbies showing up at the cineplex wondering what all of the original fuss could’ve, would’ve, and should’ve been about.
Sadly, Lost just has no formative soul.
Some of its general listlessness is likely owed to the fact that Goldman’s script constantly shifts direction.
Naturally, when one is reinventing a franchise, there will be some introductions; and – on that count – Lost knows clearly what it’s doing. Set in the near future of 2058, Goldsman introduces that our world is dying from pollution, global warming, and probably a plethora of other screenwriters’ and/or Hollywood favorites. (Capitalism gone bad? Republicans with too many guns?) The necessity of saving our species from the inevitable extinction finally pushes mankind out into the stars, and the Robinsons are selected to rocket to the planet Alpha Prime. Once there, Professor John Robinson (played by William Hurt) will somehow singlehandedly set up a ‘Hyper-Gate’ – there’s literally no mention of anyone else serving in this role that I caught – and this will allow faster-than-light transportation from Earth to there to commence immediately.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“The Robinson family was going into space to fight for a chance for humanity. Now they are fighting to live long enough to find a way home.”
While entertaining in much the same way candy whets one’s appetite instead of sitting down to eat a healthy meal, Lost In Space rockets into the Final Frontier at warp speed but arguably – like its title suggests – never quite goes anywhere. Some of this is understandably tied to the franchise’s core premise – they are ‘lost,’ notwithstanding – but considering storytellers had a few decades with which to come up with something better or something to give it new life the flick feels decidedly flat in all the wrong ways. Great pyrotechnics, excellent production details, and a talented cast and crew can take any property only so far: at some point, stories rule the day, and this is where Lost remained truly lost, likely even for newbies showing up at the cineplex wondering what all of the original fuss could’ve, would’ve, and should’ve been about.
Sadly, Lost just has no formative soul.
Some of its general listlessness is likely owed to the fact that Goldman’s script constantly shifts direction.
Naturally, when one is reinventing a franchise, there will be some introductions; and – on that count – Lost knows clearly what it’s doing. Set in the near future of 2058, Goldsman introduces that our world is dying from pollution, global warming, and probably a plethora of other screenwriters’ and/or Hollywood favorites. (Capitalism gone bad? Republicans with too many guns?) The necessity of saving our species from the inevitable extinction finally pushes mankind out into the stars, and the Robinsons are selected to rocket to the planet Alpha Prime. Once there, Professor John Robinson (played by William Hurt) will somehow singlehandedly set up a ‘Hyper-Gate’ – there’s literally no mention of anyone else serving in this role that I caught – and this will allow faster-than-light transportation from Earth to there to commence immediately.
Yet, because this is Earth we’re talking about, there has to be some kind of nefarious and shadowy subset of humanity who secretly wants to see us annihilated (as if that would really solve the problem). To their credit, these seditionists have recruited a globalist insider – Dr. Zachary Smith (Gary Oldman) – mostly since that’s what terrorists do (as opposed to doing their own dirty work). They’ve tasked the good doctor with destroying both the Jupiter 2 as well as the entire Robinson family, that way being assured the mission to save mankind will be doomed irrefutably. Once these ne’er-do-wells are convinced that their inside man has set their plans in motion, they double-cross Smith by zapping his communicator from afar, a development that leaves him unconscious before he can escape the launch vehicle.
Though some may think that this alone sounds like a great deal of plot, it’s surprisingly accomplished in only about twenty-five minutes of screen time! All of the major players are fully introduced – even with some hints at backstories and a healthy bit of allusion to what’s to come – and the general framework are given ample opportunity to create a favorable impression. It’s an accomplishment that arguably boded well for director Hopkins if for no other reason that it showed this Lost In Space was mirroring its era’s increasing social concerns about what we as a species were doing to our planet. Whereas the original series’ theme was the product of the 1960’s Space Race and its stories always rallied around the idea of adventurous exploration, these Robinsons were contemporary altruists heading into the stars to save themselves and us along with them.
The serious problems begin after the conclusion of this first rewarding act, wherein the family, Major Don West (Matt LeBlanc), Smith, and the indefatigable Robot are left to jump from one situation to another in what suffices as the film’s forward progress. There’s a bit of action involving the Robot – which had been reprogrammed to kill them until young Will (Jack Johnson) hijacks its CPU – which ends with Smith’s imprisonment in the medical bay. Then, the Jupiter 2 encounters a new sector of space wherein an Earth ship from the future (it’ll make sense later) presents another obstacle that must be tackled for them to find safety. West’s solution – basically spectacularly blowing everything to bits – has the plot turning on a dime and has their ship crashing to the surface of a nearby planet. At this point, our intrepid travelers discover the world is aging precariously from a wall of time they must breach in order to obtain the radioactive materials required for their ship to be spaceworthy again.
Still following along?
Though some may think that this alone sounds like a great deal of plot, it’s surprisingly accomplished in only about twenty-five minutes of screen time! All of the major players are fully introduced – even with some hints at backstories and a healthy bit of allusion to what’s to come – and the general framework are given ample opportunity to create a favorable impression. It’s an accomplishment that arguably boded well for director Hopkins if for no other reason that it showed this Lost In Space was mirroring its era’s increasing social concerns about what we as a species were doing to our planet. Whereas the original series’ theme was the product of the 1960’s Space Race and its stories always rallied around the idea of adventurous exploration, these Robinsons were contemporary altruists heading into the stars to save themselves and us along with them.
The serious problems begin after the conclusion of this first rewarding act, wherein the family, Major Don West (Matt LeBlanc), Smith, and the indefatigable Robot are left to jump from one situation to another in what suffices as the film’s forward progress. There’s a bit of action involving the Robot – which had been reprogrammed to kill them until young Will (Jack Johnson) hijacks its CPU – which ends with Smith’s imprisonment in the medical bay. Then, the Jupiter 2 encounters a new sector of space wherein an Earth ship from the future (it’ll make sense later) presents another obstacle that must be tackled for them to find safety. West’s solution – basically spectacularly blowing everything to bits – has the plot turning on a dime and has their ship crashing to the surface of a nearby planet. At this point, our intrepid travelers discover the world is aging precariously from a wall of time they must breach in order to obtain the radioactive materials required for their ship to be spaceworthy again.
Still following along?
If you haven’t detected it by now, then let me spell it out perfectly: Lost In Space shutters to a narrative halt each and every time Goldsman introduces a new plotline. Everything unfolds like a domino falling which tips over another and another and another and so forth. But in here viewers might hear the actual thud of each tipping black monolith as the plot shifts yet again into another gear. While these sequences are strung together loosely by the faces participating in them, there’s still a lack of cohesion, almost as if all of this were originally conceived as, say, separate episodes too expensive to shoot for television airing that were hacked down and reassembled into one two-hour-plus movie. Very clearly, there exists three separate acts to the scenario, but unlike traditional three-act structure they don’t flow seamlessly much less rely on one another. They just happen to showcase the same talent … with most of them named Robinson.
To the producers’ credit, they did fairly well in casting the Robinson siblings. Judy (the incandescent Heather Graham) doesn’t quite shine as the budding brainiac of the family – her delivery of the science stuff is a bit flat – and yet she develops as a romantic foil to LeBlanc’s macho West. Penny (Lacey Chabert) encapsulates the perennial mild child – never quite as accomplished as the eldest but willing to trade barbs with the junior – and Goldman’s script predicts ‘tweenage’ vlogging about a decade before YouTube.com came into existence. Will was always the TV whizkid – maybe a bit more morally in this 60’s incarnation than here – and Johnson slips effortlessly into the shoes of a young’un bent on giving anything his all even if it escapes the attention of his busy father.
Though I’ve read a bit of commentary suggesting that LeBlanc was a poor choice for West, I’d heartily counter that when I saw this one theatrically back in the day his was the only performance that truly stuck out for me. It was a huge change from what he had established himself on the popular TV sitcom of the 1990’s; and maybe that’s why I liked him so much in the role. Either way, I’d question those who placed the weight of the film’s failure on his shoulders as, clearly, he embraced the hotshot military maverick with aplomb and gave his scenes the proper undercurrent.
While I’m otherwise a fan of Oldman’s work, I’ll insist that on most points he was a bit miscast here. His high-minded scheming isn’t nearly as comic as it is sinister – what a difference a generation makes – and his presence in key scenes felt a bit overplayed in some ways while incredibly undercooked in others. Goldsman script never quite achieves a balance between the character’s whimpering and menace – some of which might be owed to his embrace of pure unadulterated evil in the bug-infested third act, an element that never gets resolved or adequately addressed in the picture – and I can’t help but wonder where – if anywhere – Oldman could’ve gone with this had it expanded into sequels. Clearly, the family would’ve been better off jettisoning him into infinity; and I think only that much was without question at the film’s conclusion.
To the producers’ credit, they did fairly well in casting the Robinson siblings. Judy (the incandescent Heather Graham) doesn’t quite shine as the budding brainiac of the family – her delivery of the science stuff is a bit flat – and yet she develops as a romantic foil to LeBlanc’s macho West. Penny (Lacey Chabert) encapsulates the perennial mild child – never quite as accomplished as the eldest but willing to trade barbs with the junior – and Goldman’s script predicts ‘tweenage’ vlogging about a decade before YouTube.com came into existence. Will was always the TV whizkid – maybe a bit more morally in this 60’s incarnation than here – and Johnson slips effortlessly into the shoes of a young’un bent on giving anything his all even if it escapes the attention of his busy father.
Though I’ve read a bit of commentary suggesting that LeBlanc was a poor choice for West, I’d heartily counter that when I saw this one theatrically back in the day his was the only performance that truly stuck out for me. It was a huge change from what he had established himself on the popular TV sitcom of the 1990’s; and maybe that’s why I liked him so much in the role. Either way, I’d question those who placed the weight of the film’s failure on his shoulders as, clearly, he embraced the hotshot military maverick with aplomb and gave his scenes the proper undercurrent.
While I’m otherwise a fan of Oldman’s work, I’ll insist that on most points he was a bit miscast here. His high-minded scheming isn’t nearly as comic as it is sinister – what a difference a generation makes – and his presence in key scenes felt a bit overplayed in some ways while incredibly undercooked in others. Goldsman script never quite achieves a balance between the character’s whimpering and menace – some of which might be owed to his embrace of pure unadulterated evil in the bug-infested third act, an element that never gets resolved or adequately addressed in the picture – and I can’t help but wonder where – if anywhere – Oldman could’ve gone with this had it expanded into sequels. Clearly, the family would’ve been better off jettisoning him into infinity; and I think only that much was without question at the film’s conclusion.
Well before JarJar Binks stunk up the place on behalf of writer/director George Lucas in 1999’s Star Wars: Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Lost In Space gave their picture a shot at film history with the character of Blarp, a CGI kinda/sorta alien/monkey hybrid that joined the Robinsons in the second act. Discovered in what appears to be a massive arboreum on the ship Proteus – with absolutely no explanation as to how it could’ve survived against these spider creatures – the nervous critter tags along with the crew when they quickly abandon that ship back for the Jupiter 2. However, Goldsman’s script (again) does absolutely nothing with it, essentially ignoring its existence entirely except for when Blarp pops up for a bit of comic relief.
At least JarJar was worth the cringe.
Lost In Space (1998) was produced by New Line Cinema, Prelude Pictures, Irwin Allen Productions, and Saltire 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 can still assure you that this 4K update looks and sounds just damn fabulous: while younger audiences might not appreciate the level of screen magic achieved with practical effects work – and some obviously fledgling CGI stuff – this kind of theatrical experience likely will always bring me great joy. Sorry, folks, but environments that look real – even with a few blemishes – are just my preference over gaudy computer graphics. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The collection boasts a nice balance between newly produced stuff alongside archival making-of bits, so much so that it’s hard to believe anyone would be disappointed here.
(P.S. For clarity’s sake, I only receive industry copies of the disc itself, so I cannot speak to the efficacy of any inserted booklets, artwork, or other whatnot which might be included with a purchase. In those cases, I always caution ‘buyer beware.’)
Mildly Recommended.
Truth be told, Lost In Space (1998) isn’t a bad film exactly. It’s confusing. It’s plot-driven, debatably to overkill. And it never quite feels like the homecoming the Robinson family deserved despite several subplots about how families behave circling the premise. Clearly, writer Goldsman and director Hopkins were trying to fashion it as something larger-than-life, chucking together what felt like three uniquely different storylines into one still surprisingly lean picture; and, sadly, it kinda/sorta collapses under its own narrative weight. Characters are largely paper-thin, feeling more like quick and dirty recreations from what had already been established on television decades earlier with only a few creative tweaks here and there. Visually impressive, the project still felt more ‘lost’ than ‘found’ but who knows what could’ve happened if the movie gods gave it a sequel? Alas, we’ll never know.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of Lost In Space (1998) 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
At least JarJar was worth the cringe.
Lost In Space (1998) was produced by New Line Cinema, Prelude Pictures, Irwin Allen Productions, and Saltire 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 can still assure you that this 4K update looks and sounds just damn fabulous: while younger audiences might not appreciate the level of screen magic achieved with practical effects work – and some obviously fledgling CGI stuff – this kind of theatrical experience likely will always bring me great joy. Sorry, folks, but environments that look real – even with a few blemishes – are just my preference over gaudy computer graphics. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The collection boasts a nice balance between newly produced stuff alongside archival making-of bits, so much so that it’s hard to believe anyone would be disappointed here.
(P.S. For clarity’s sake, I only receive industry copies of the disc itself, so I cannot speak to the efficacy of any inserted booklets, artwork, or other whatnot which might be included with a purchase. In those cases, I always caution ‘buyer beware.’)
Mildly Recommended.
Truth be told, Lost In Space (1998) isn’t a bad film exactly. It’s confusing. It’s plot-driven, debatably to overkill. And it never quite feels like the homecoming the Robinson family deserved despite several subplots about how families behave circling the premise. Clearly, writer Goldsman and director Hopkins were trying to fashion it as something larger-than-life, chucking together what felt like three uniquely different storylines into one still surprisingly lean picture; and, sadly, it kinda/sorta collapses under its own narrative weight. Characters are largely paper-thin, feeling more like quick and dirty recreations from what had already been established on television decades earlier with only a few creative tweaks here and there. Visually impressive, the project still felt more ‘lost’ than ‘found’ but who knows what could’ve happened if the movie gods gave it a sequel? Alas, we’ll never know.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of Lost In Space (1998) 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
Here’s the thing, folks …
Horror – as an experience – works best when you don’t have to think about it.
You see, the chief appeal to Horror is that – for whatever reason – it’s the kind of thing that scares the viewer silly no matter what any cognitive examination of it would do otherwise. Sure, a savvy watcher might notice small(ish) things like – were he somehow thrust into the movie’s circumstances – he would’ve turned left instead of right or he would’ve taken the sports car instead of the station wagon or he would’ve preferred using the blowtorch instead of the chainsaw. But all of those mental gymnastics both interrupt and break the flow of what’s intended to be a visceral undertaking, one that sets the blood pumping, the heart thumping, and the voice screaming. Nothing could be truer than that.
Now, Horror/Comedy uniquely operates on the same level. Even though what audiences find funny varies widely, jokes fail miserably if and when they require a bit of cognitive processing. They’re quick, impulsive, and unanticipated moments meant to be taken in and damn near instantly responded to with a laugh, a chuckle, a guffaw, or a chortle. If some element onscreen necessitates a member of the public to stop and think then there’s this wall suddenly erected between him and the sequence, demanding an immediate removal from the movie that similarly stalls the forward momentum. We’ve all been there. We hate it when that happens. Entertainment’s spell is snapped, leaving us to start again if we’re still even interested.
This is the kind of dangerous territory a clever prospect like Clown In A Cornfield (2025) occupies: you cannot – at any point – stop to mull it over for if you do then the potential universe it represents – with all of its advantages and disadvantages – vanishes right before your eyes. The vast majority of its ideas simply do not make narrative sense if one tries to parse them for clarity’s sake, and this means that the best way to enjoy its charms – and, yes, it has plenty of them – is to live (or die) in the moment as do its several relatable teenagers. It’s just that kind of film. Consider yourself warned.
Adapted for the screen and directed by Eli Craig, Clown stars Katie Douglas, Aaron Abrams, Carson MacCormac, Vincent Muller, Kevin Durand, Will Sasso, and others. It’s the story of a sleepy little town seemingly in the middle of Nowhere America that harbors a deep, dark secret, one fueled by a homicidal xenophobic rage its residents share over outsiders daring to explore their neck of the woods. Not only does such unwarranted visits bring out the worst in them but also it brings out the clowns.
Dear God: send in the clowns!
Horror – as an experience – works best when you don’t have to think about it.
You see, the chief appeal to Horror is that – for whatever reason – it’s the kind of thing that scares the viewer silly no matter what any cognitive examination of it would do otherwise. Sure, a savvy watcher might notice small(ish) things like – were he somehow thrust into the movie’s circumstances – he would’ve turned left instead of right or he would’ve taken the sports car instead of the station wagon or he would’ve preferred using the blowtorch instead of the chainsaw. But all of those mental gymnastics both interrupt and break the flow of what’s intended to be a visceral undertaking, one that sets the blood pumping, the heart thumping, and the voice screaming. Nothing could be truer than that.
Now, Horror/Comedy uniquely operates on the same level. Even though what audiences find funny varies widely, jokes fail miserably if and when they require a bit of cognitive processing. They’re quick, impulsive, and unanticipated moments meant to be taken in and damn near instantly responded to with a laugh, a chuckle, a guffaw, or a chortle. If some element onscreen necessitates a member of the public to stop and think then there’s this wall suddenly erected between him and the sequence, demanding an immediate removal from the movie that similarly stalls the forward momentum. We’ve all been there. We hate it when that happens. Entertainment’s spell is snapped, leaving us to start again if we’re still even interested.
This is the kind of dangerous territory a clever prospect like Clown In A Cornfield (2025) occupies: you cannot – at any point – stop to mull it over for if you do then the potential universe it represents – with all of its advantages and disadvantages – vanishes right before your eyes. The vast majority of its ideas simply do not make narrative sense if one tries to parse them for clarity’s sake, and this means that the best way to enjoy its charms – and, yes, it has plenty of them – is to live (or die) in the moment as do its several relatable teenagers. It’s just that kind of film. Consider yourself warned.
Adapted for the screen and directed by Eli Craig, Clown stars Katie Douglas, Aaron Abrams, Carson MacCormac, Vincent Muller, Kevin Durand, Will Sasso, and others. It’s the story of a sleepy little town seemingly in the middle of Nowhere America that harbors a deep, dark secret, one fueled by a homicidal xenophobic rage its residents share over outsiders daring to explore their neck of the woods. Not only does such unwarranted visits bring out the worst in them but also it brings out the clowns.
Dear God: send in the clowns!
(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 fading midwestern town in which Frendo the clown, a symbol of bygone success, reemerges as a terrifying scourge.”
Having grown up in Smalltown America, I can tell you – as can a great deal many others – that it’s always the perfect setting for a good Horror story.
Why?
Well, chiefly that’s because nothing ever really happens there or – at the very least – nothing much gets noticed by the wide, wide world outside. These tiny havens are their own places – they’re microcosms of the larger world beyond – and they typically function off their own rules and commandments. If something does occur, then everyone knows about it; and the community will likely come together in ways that demonstrate that ‘love thy neighbor’ remains a sentiment cherished by some when all that takes place in the big city is hate, murder, and bloodshed. As such, turning that dynamic on its head and transforming them into hunting grounds ripe for the plucking is a no-brainer … or something the no-brainers who get Hollywood contracts think is neato-keen.
Yet, I was raised a forgiving soul, as are most of us who come from such small rural confines. So, I can set aside the obvious prejudices of writer/director Eli Craig, novelist Adam Cesare, and screenwriter Carter Blanchard and proudly announce I still had a helluva lot of fun of your Horror/Comedy/Satire Clown In A Cornfield. Though there’s nothing in it that authentically resembles any of the unincorporated villages I spent the vast majority of my first three decades in existence occupying, it’s still a fun-spirited send-up with its heart in the right place. No, it doesn’t make a lick of sense if you stop to think about any of it beyond the presentation. But it’s still a charming distraction, one that will likely be lapped up by the rural bumpkins across the fruited plain.
After her mother committed suicide, Quinn Maybrook (played by Katie Douglas) – along with her physician/father Glenn (Aaron Abrams) – needed a change of scenery from the big city. Taking the job of a town doctor in Kettle Springs, Missouri, Glenn hopes that the two can start their lives over out from under the shadow of such a personal tragedy. Not long after settling in, Quinn is befriended by a small group of local teenagers who’ve found their own claim to fame outside of their dead-end town: together, they’ve been crafting some YouTube videos using their city’s kinda/sorta mascot Frendo The Clown as a maniacal slasher, an activity which has been heavily frowned upon by the adults in the community.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A fading midwestern town in which Frendo the clown, a symbol of bygone success, reemerges as a terrifying scourge.”
Having grown up in Smalltown America, I can tell you – as can a great deal many others – that it’s always the perfect setting for a good Horror story.
Why?
Well, chiefly that’s because nothing ever really happens there or – at the very least – nothing much gets noticed by the wide, wide world outside. These tiny havens are their own places – they’re microcosms of the larger world beyond – and they typically function off their own rules and commandments. If something does occur, then everyone knows about it; and the community will likely come together in ways that demonstrate that ‘love thy neighbor’ remains a sentiment cherished by some when all that takes place in the big city is hate, murder, and bloodshed. As such, turning that dynamic on its head and transforming them into hunting grounds ripe for the plucking is a no-brainer … or something the no-brainers who get Hollywood contracts think is neato-keen.
Yet, I was raised a forgiving soul, as are most of us who come from such small rural confines. So, I can set aside the obvious prejudices of writer/director Eli Craig, novelist Adam Cesare, and screenwriter Carter Blanchard and proudly announce I still had a helluva lot of fun of your Horror/Comedy/Satire Clown In A Cornfield. Though there’s nothing in it that authentically resembles any of the unincorporated villages I spent the vast majority of my first three decades in existence occupying, it’s still a fun-spirited send-up with its heart in the right place. No, it doesn’t make a lick of sense if you stop to think about any of it beyond the presentation. But it’s still a charming distraction, one that will likely be lapped up by the rural bumpkins across the fruited plain.
After her mother committed suicide, Quinn Maybrook (played by Katie Douglas) – along with her physician/father Glenn (Aaron Abrams) – needed a change of scenery from the big city. Taking the job of a town doctor in Kettle Springs, Missouri, Glenn hopes that the two can start their lives over out from under the shadow of such a personal tragedy. Not long after settling in, Quinn is befriended by a small group of local teenagers who’ve found their own claim to fame outside of their dead-end town: together, they’ve been crafting some YouTube videos using their city’s kinda/sorta mascot Frendo The Clown as a maniacal slasher, an activity which has been heavily frowned upon by the adults in the community.
However, it isn’t long before this gaggle of auteurs finds themselves one-by-one turning up dead at the hands of a real-life killer who also uses Frendo’s visage to conceal his/her identity. On the eve of Kettle Springs’ Founder’s Day – a centennial celebration of the place’s establishment – the teenagers gather at a secret barn rave that is eventually surrounding by an entire team of weapons-yielding clowns, pitting the youth in a race for survival against maniacs in brightly colored costumes, facemasks, and oversized shoes.
You see, the suggestion here is that the townspeople have had enough of their local flavor being bastardized by an unappreciative generation of young minds; and the resulting hatred puts them on the path to wiping out any youth involved. That’s the central concept behind what fuels Clown, and we learn that such communal rage has happened several times in the city’s history. These elders – and their forebears – have killed before, and the suggestion is that they’ve done it “in spades.” One needs to set aside the fact that – were this the case – then Kettle Springs would most likely not be this little place in middle America that no one’s ever heard of, but I’ve often been warned it’s a fool’s folly to look for logic in all the wrong places.
Furthermore, one needs to set aside the fact that many of these adults are, in fact, acting out their homicidal instincts against helpless children. In one instance, it’s even a father willingly trying to murder his own son over something as trivial as cultural disrespect. In another, it’s the town sheriff – the man elected and fully charted by the citizenry to uphold the law of the land – who seemingly gives no second thought to murdering teens in cold blood. Forget the fact that all of this was heavily advertised as a comedy because nothing could be further from the truth: it’s satire, and – like it or not – I’m not sure everyone involved understands the distinction.
Frankly, I could go on for much, much more – if I chose – but, ultimately, that would never be productive.
Having taken it all in and mulled it over in retrospect, it’s pretty clear that no audience is supposed to take anything in Clown with any measure of logic. It’s meant to be a laugher – the kind deceptively skewering Horror, its central tropes, and the mechanics that go into making a bloody thrill ride – and, on that level, it is entertaining. Damn near everything in here is best dealt with superficially because giving it any degree of depth makes this house of cards collapse when instead one is truly meant to watch, gasp, laugh, gasp again, and maybe – maybe – even revel in its delightful stupidity. It achieves its result with some smarts, mind you; but in the end it’s nothing more than a harmless distraction which might take away the cares of the real world briefly … and there’s always nobility in that.
Where it occasionally goes a bit awry is when the script tries to insert a bit of commentary on reality, never a grand idea unless it can be handled a bit more subversively.
You see, the suggestion here is that the townspeople have had enough of their local flavor being bastardized by an unappreciative generation of young minds; and the resulting hatred puts them on the path to wiping out any youth involved. That’s the central concept behind what fuels Clown, and we learn that such communal rage has happened several times in the city’s history. These elders – and their forebears – have killed before, and the suggestion is that they’ve done it “in spades.” One needs to set aside the fact that – were this the case – then Kettle Springs would most likely not be this little place in middle America that no one’s ever heard of, but I’ve often been warned it’s a fool’s folly to look for logic in all the wrong places.
Furthermore, one needs to set aside the fact that many of these adults are, in fact, acting out their homicidal instincts against helpless children. In one instance, it’s even a father willingly trying to murder his own son over something as trivial as cultural disrespect. In another, it’s the town sheriff – the man elected and fully charted by the citizenry to uphold the law of the land – who seemingly gives no second thought to murdering teens in cold blood. Forget the fact that all of this was heavily advertised as a comedy because nothing could be further from the truth: it’s satire, and – like it or not – I’m not sure everyone involved understands the distinction.
Frankly, I could go on for much, much more – if I chose – but, ultimately, that would never be productive.
Having taken it all in and mulled it over in retrospect, it’s pretty clear that no audience is supposed to take anything in Clown with any measure of logic. It’s meant to be a laugher – the kind deceptively skewering Horror, its central tropes, and the mechanics that go into making a bloody thrill ride – and, on that level, it is entertaining. Damn near everything in here is best dealt with superficially because giving it any degree of depth makes this house of cards collapse when instead one is truly meant to watch, gasp, laugh, gasp again, and maybe – maybe – even revel in its delightful stupidity. It achieves its result with some smarts, mind you; but in the end it’s nothing more than a harmless distraction which might take away the cares of the real world briefly … and there’s always nobility in that.
Where it occasionally goes a bit awry is when the script tries to insert a bit of commentary on reality, never a grand idea unless it can be handled a bit more subversively.
Kettle Springs has clearly fallen on hard times – what with the factory of Frendo products having burned down in the recent past – and its residents are feeling the pinch of a city in decline. Those sentiments are relevant enough, but they only factor in circumstantially to the film’s foundation once it’s learned that these residents have always had a dark side. In another one of Hollywood’s latest images, daddy Glenn – an educated physician, mind you – is essentially useless now that he’s lost his wife, and the always precocious daughter Quinn appears to be the quintessential ‘Mary Sue’ keeping the family together. (Seriously, enough with the emasculated males, already!) Lastly, there’s also a homosexual relationship which feels inserted into the action – it helps kinda/sorta led audiences to suspect a certain somebody might be the killer-in-waiting – and it just never quite resonates with the potential of an authentic pairing. Instead, it plays out like a Hollywood invention because – well – such relationships are all the rage.
Complaints aside, I still had a bit of fun with Clown. Douglas makes for a capable lead in such fare – she’s definitely worth watching here and in the future – and MacCormac manages to handle his own even though his character gets a bit short-changed in the last reel. Funnyman Sasso is a bit miscast here, mostly because he’s such a familiar face at comedy, and Clown requires him to pretty much be ‘all business.’ Sadly, town heavy Arthur Hill (the always reliable Kevin Durand) gets too little screen time and disappears curiously in the big finish: his is a presence that could’ve been used better if the script went through another draft or two.
Clown In A Cornfield (2025) was produced by RLJE Films, Shudder, Hercules Film Fund, Protagonist Pictures, Temple Hill Entertainment, and a few other participants. (A full accounting of partners is available on IMDB.com, for those who like that sort of thing.) DVD distribution (for this particular release) has ben coordinated by the fine folks at RLJE Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure you that the provided sights and sounds are exceptional across the entire flick. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? This Steelbook boasts a lively audio commentary by the director, author Adam Cesare, and a few cast members as well as some collectible magnets of Frendo and a few of his preferred weapons of choice. Clever, boys. Very clever.
Imperfect, but still … Recommended.
Bluntly put, Clown In A Cornfield (2025) is exactly the kind of film one shouldn’t stop at any point and mull over because all of it – from the premise to its somewhat stock characters to its parade of developments – cease to make any sense whatsoever. But Horror – unlike other genres – is the kind of experience viewers long ago learned to set such hubris aside and simply roll with the punches. On that level, it’s a better-than-average Horror/Comedy – an important distinction – that will likely produce enough chuckles to make it entirely worth the effort and its lean-and-mean 96-minute running time.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at RLJE Films and Shudder provided me with a complimentary 4K UltraHD Blu-ray (Steelbook) of Clown In A Cornfield (2025) 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
Complaints aside, I still had a bit of fun with Clown. Douglas makes for a capable lead in such fare – she’s definitely worth watching here and in the future – and MacCormac manages to handle his own even though his character gets a bit short-changed in the last reel. Funnyman Sasso is a bit miscast here, mostly because he’s such a familiar face at comedy, and Clown requires him to pretty much be ‘all business.’ Sadly, town heavy Arthur Hill (the always reliable Kevin Durand) gets too little screen time and disappears curiously in the big finish: his is a presence that could’ve been used better if the script went through another draft or two.
Clown In A Cornfield (2025) was produced by RLJE Films, Shudder, Hercules Film Fund, Protagonist Pictures, Temple Hill Entertainment, and a few other participants. (A full accounting of partners is available on IMDB.com, for those who like that sort of thing.) DVD distribution (for this particular release) has ben coordinated by the fine folks at RLJE Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure you that the provided sights and sounds are exceptional across the entire flick. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? This Steelbook boasts a lively audio commentary by the director, author Adam Cesare, and a few cast members as well as some collectible magnets of Frendo and a few of his preferred weapons of choice. Clever, boys. Very clever.
Imperfect, but still … Recommended.
Bluntly put, Clown In A Cornfield (2025) is exactly the kind of film one shouldn’t stop at any point and mull over because all of it – from the premise to its somewhat stock characters to its parade of developments – cease to make any sense whatsoever. But Horror – unlike other genres – is the kind of experience viewers long ago learned to set such hubris aside and simply roll with the punches. On that level, it’s a better-than-average Horror/Comedy – an important distinction – that will likely produce enough chuckles to make it entirely worth the effort and its lean-and-mean 96-minute running time.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at RLJE Films and Shudder provided me with a complimentary 4K UltraHD Blu-ray (Steelbook) of Clown In A Cornfield (2025) 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
All of genres, Science Fiction is perhaps the one that has produced the best films examining the identity of the self.
1982’s Blade Runner recounts the story of a government sanctioned bounty hunter chasing down renegade androids told against the backdrop of the man coming to grips with the fact that he, too, may be nothing more than a scientist’s creation. Similarly, 1990’s Total Recall – which, like Blade Runner, also stems from the imagination of storyteller Philip K. Dick – introduces audiences to a future wherein newly-implanted memories cause a psychological breakdown in a man whose biggest secret is that he may not be who he has long believed himself to be. 1998’s Dark City explored the plight of John Murdoch, a recovering amnesiac who finds himself on-the-run from the hidden overlords of an alien infestation hellbent on keeping him from realizing not only who he is but what powers he might discover as a result.
2015’s Self/Less comes into this heady mix as another competitor in like-minded fare but offers up an interesting variation on the theme: as the tale explores the concept of consciousness being medically swapped from one body to another, the narrative pits not one but two alpha males on a quest to discover who they are and what they stand for. Written by Álex Pastor and David Pastor – the team responsible for 2009’s Carriers and 2013’s The Last Days (reviewed here) – the film was directed by Tarsem Singh who incidentally delved into similar territory with 2000’s The Cell (reviewed here). The project starred Ben Kingsley, Ryan Reynolds, Natalie Martinez, Matthew Goode, Victor Garber, and others.
Superficially, it’s safe to conclude that the film really plays out more like a good screen thriller – with some solid action once it gets going – than it invests in any serious discussion of its medical, philosophical, psychological, and existential implications. Nevertheless, it’s still worth considering it alongside the aforementioned entries because there are enough similarities between them to grade it as just a simpler alteration dumbed down a bit in hopes of wider consumption.
(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 …)
1982’s Blade Runner recounts the story of a government sanctioned bounty hunter chasing down renegade androids told against the backdrop of the man coming to grips with the fact that he, too, may be nothing more than a scientist’s creation. Similarly, 1990’s Total Recall – which, like Blade Runner, also stems from the imagination of storyteller Philip K. Dick – introduces audiences to a future wherein newly-implanted memories cause a psychological breakdown in a man whose biggest secret is that he may not be who he has long believed himself to be. 1998’s Dark City explored the plight of John Murdoch, a recovering amnesiac who finds himself on-the-run from the hidden overlords of an alien infestation hellbent on keeping him from realizing not only who he is but what powers he might discover as a result.
2015’s Self/Less comes into this heady mix as another competitor in like-minded fare but offers up an interesting variation on the theme: as the tale explores the concept of consciousness being medically swapped from one body to another, the narrative pits not one but two alpha males on a quest to discover who they are and what they stand for. Written by Álex Pastor and David Pastor – the team responsible for 2009’s Carriers and 2013’s The Last Days (reviewed here) – the film was directed by Tarsem Singh who incidentally delved into similar territory with 2000’s The Cell (reviewed here). The project starred Ben Kingsley, Ryan Reynolds, Natalie Martinez, Matthew Goode, Victor Garber, and others.
Superficially, it’s safe to conclude that the film really plays out more like a good screen thriller – with some solid action once it gets going – than it invests in any serious discussion of its medical, philosophical, psychological, and existential implications. Nevertheless, it’s still worth considering it alongside the aforementioned entries because there are enough similarities between them to grade it as just a simpler alteration dumbed down a bit in hopes of wider consumption.
(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 dying real estate mogul transfers his consciousness into a healthy young body but soon finds that neither the procedure nor the company that performed it are quite what they seem.”
Though most folks may’ve missed it, 2015’s Self/Less has this terrific parallel storyline that inevitably makes the film much better than it likely would’ve otherwise been.
Billionaire Damian Hale (played by Bens Kingsley) is about as ruthless as corporate magnate as they come. Having occupied the highest rung in the world of high stakes business for more than a few decades, he can utterly destroy his competition with little more than a snap of his fingers. In fact, the film opens with such a display of his amalgamated power: an up-and-coming young executive finds his career and lifestyle entirely sidetracked over taking a public stance in direct opposition to Hale’s, and he learns of his destruction directly from the aged billionaire and his right-hand man Martin O’Neill (Victor Garber) as they swap more than barbs over coffee in some posh New York restaurant. It’s a quick scene, but it rather eloquently establishes Hale as one not to be trifled with in any measurable way – the quintessential practiced and policed alpha male amongst society’s ruling elite.
In contrast, Mark Bitwell is one of those meat-and-potatoes Americans who has served his country with distinction as a soldier in the military. Having completed his tour of duty, he comes home to discover that his daughter Anna (Jaynee-Lynne Kinchen) is suffering from a life-altering illness. Though he and his wife Madeline (Natalie Martinez) seemingly have nowhere to turn, Bitwell discovers there is a clandestine medical facility which – in exchange for surrendering his body to them for research – will pay for the young girl’s treatment. When he realizes this is his only option to save his daughter, Mark makes the ultimate sacrifice, keeping it a secret from his wife who is told that he died under as the result of an accident.
What the audience learns as does Hale once he inhabits Mark’s body is that Bitwell, too, was similarly the leader of a pack. Instead of possessing business prowess, the young man was a competent military commando who knew more than his fair share about kicking butt, taking names, and dispatching mortal enemies into their own respective afterlives. Granted, the man is a leader of a vastly different variety, but before the story is over it’ll take the blending of their unique subsets of talents to right more than a few wrongs which are part and parcel of the underground consciousness-swapping industry’s manner of doing business.
“A dying real estate mogul transfers his consciousness into a healthy young body but soon finds that neither the procedure nor the company that performed it are quite what they seem.”
Though most folks may’ve missed it, 2015’s Self/Less has this terrific parallel storyline that inevitably makes the film much better than it likely would’ve otherwise been.
Billionaire Damian Hale (played by Bens Kingsley) is about as ruthless as corporate magnate as they come. Having occupied the highest rung in the world of high stakes business for more than a few decades, he can utterly destroy his competition with little more than a snap of his fingers. In fact, the film opens with such a display of his amalgamated power: an up-and-coming young executive finds his career and lifestyle entirely sidetracked over taking a public stance in direct opposition to Hale’s, and he learns of his destruction directly from the aged billionaire and his right-hand man Martin O’Neill (Victor Garber) as they swap more than barbs over coffee in some posh New York restaurant. It’s a quick scene, but it rather eloquently establishes Hale as one not to be trifled with in any measurable way – the quintessential practiced and policed alpha male amongst society’s ruling elite.
In contrast, Mark Bitwell is one of those meat-and-potatoes Americans who has served his country with distinction as a soldier in the military. Having completed his tour of duty, he comes home to discover that his daughter Anna (Jaynee-Lynne Kinchen) is suffering from a life-altering illness. Though he and his wife Madeline (Natalie Martinez) seemingly have nowhere to turn, Bitwell discovers there is a clandestine medical facility which – in exchange for surrendering his body to them for research – will pay for the young girl’s treatment. When he realizes this is his only option to save his daughter, Mark makes the ultimate sacrifice, keeping it a secret from his wife who is told that he died under as the result of an accident.
What the audience learns as does Hale once he inhabits Mark’s body is that Bitwell, too, was similarly the leader of a pack. Instead of possessing business prowess, the young man was a competent military commando who knew more than his fair share about kicking butt, taking names, and dispatching mortal enemies into their own respective afterlives. Granted, the man is a leader of a vastly different variety, but before the story is over it’ll take the blending of their unique subsets of talents to right more than a few wrongs which are part and parcel of the underground consciousness-swapping industry’s manner of doing business.
Rather than deal with its cerebral ideas of which there are several (much less explain how a reported billionaire retained his wealth after such a public clinical death), Self/Less instead becomes a somewhat routine action picture. It quickly sidelines any serious discussion of ethics or moral quandary in favor of fisticuffs, gunplay, and car crashes, and Reynolds proves himself a competent star in the making. Once he’s succumbing to the late stages of cancer, Hale is all-too-happy to consider the prospect of living an all-new life in what he believes is a cloned human body (which is actually Bitwell’s but now renamed as Edward Kidner), and why shouldn’t he? Everything is seemingly available at a price for the rich and powerful, and the impressive Dr. Albright (Matthew Goode) makes a convincing case for improving mankind by granting a kind of immortality to its best thinkers, movers, and shakers. Who among us wouldn’t enjoy such a do-over? The ‘Freaky Friday’ element here is little more than a gimmick that paves the way for the resulting chaos; and – on that level – everything works just fine.
Honestly, Kingsley is in so very little of the picture, so much so that one might wonder what lured him to such a small role in the first place. Spiritually, his presence is alive a bit longer after his fictional death as Reynolds does a pleasant job mimicking Hale’s mannerisms up until Bitwell’s memories start to resurface – at which point it’s clear the Kidner personae that Albright invented for the billionaire was just a ruse. Fortunately, the esteemed actor’s gravitas survives to help the story feel more impactful than it ever truly is.
Perhaps the film’s biggest weakness is that the Pastors’ tie a late-breaking development – it involves precisely who secretly alerted Hale to the prospect of exploring a second life – to the plot in a way that hints at a ‘gotcha’ reveal; and the surprise doesn’t quite work. Arguably, the story might’ve been stronger had this relationship been established at the beginning as it could’ve more easily smoothed over the wrinkles developing over the possibilities of fringe science getting introduced so suspiciously. Also, it could’ve given two very good, very established talents (sorry, won’t spoil it) another layer with which to play with in those fertile early scenes. As it stands, the disclosure feels more like a screenwriter’s convention – the kind that swings open the door with what to creatively do with an otherwise unambitious and predictable third act – but that’s sometimes the price one pays for admission.
Honestly, Kingsley is in so very little of the picture, so much so that one might wonder what lured him to such a small role in the first place. Spiritually, his presence is alive a bit longer after his fictional death as Reynolds does a pleasant job mimicking Hale’s mannerisms up until Bitwell’s memories start to resurface – at which point it’s clear the Kidner personae that Albright invented for the billionaire was just a ruse. Fortunately, the esteemed actor’s gravitas survives to help the story feel more impactful than it ever truly is.
Perhaps the film’s biggest weakness is that the Pastors’ tie a late-breaking development – it involves precisely who secretly alerted Hale to the prospect of exploring a second life – to the plot in a way that hints at a ‘gotcha’ reveal; and the surprise doesn’t quite work. Arguably, the story might’ve been stronger had this relationship been established at the beginning as it could’ve more easily smoothed over the wrinkles developing over the possibilities of fringe science getting introduced so suspiciously. Also, it could’ve given two very good, very established talents (sorry, won’t spoil it) another layer with which to play with in those fertile early scenes. As it stands, the disclosure feels more like a screenwriter’s convention – the kind that swings open the door with what to creatively do with an otherwise unambitious and predictable third act – but that’s sometimes the price one pays for admission.
Interestingly enough, Self/Less failed pretty significantly at the box office. Google.com states that it barely made its reported $26M budget with just under $32M in ticket sales. Sadly, it just never really established itself with patrons as the kind of player either Hale or Bitwell represented as characters. Critics were particularly unimpressed, and the project retains presently a rather low aggregate score of 34 (out of 100) on Metacritic.com. Unsurprisingly (so far as this critic is concerned), it does appear that the picture struck a much more favorable chord with regular folks: IMDB.com shows it with a rather impressive 6.5 (out of 10). This is likely the case as, centrally, it evolves into a relatable good-versus-evil yarn – set against only a backdrop of only fancy-pants Science Fantasy – that casual viewers typically embrace.
Self/Less (2015) was produced by Focus Features, Endgame Entertainment, FilmNation Entertainment, and Ram Bergman Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Universal Pictures Home Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure you that the provided sights-and-sounds are exceptional across the film’s running time. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts a director’s commentary along with a few behind-the-scenes shorts for your consumption.
Recommended.
As imperfect as it is in spots, Self/Less is still the kind of guilty pleasure that requires few commitments to consumers who discover its small joys. Granted, there’s really not much in any of it that requires a bit of a stretch for the talent pool (Reynolds excepted) because sometimes that’s just the nature of bigtime mythmaking that’s more about bells and whistles ringing loudly than it is about the nuances of life, the universe, and everything. While the nifty parallels involving two alpha males needing to make peace in a single body gives the flick enough of a slim chance to resonate with audiences only in need of a momentary distraction from their troubles, this one could’ve been something a bit more special had director Singh pushed the boundaries far and wide with some equally intellectual chitchat from characters in search of cosmic self-awareness. Not so much a miss as it is a lost opportunity.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Universal Pictures Home Entertainment (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary DVD of Self/Less (2015) 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
Self/Less (2015) was produced by Focus Features, Endgame Entertainment, FilmNation Entertainment, and Ram Bergman Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Universal Pictures Home Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure you that the provided sights-and-sounds are exceptional across the film’s running time. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts a director’s commentary along with a few behind-the-scenes shorts for your consumption.
Recommended.
As imperfect as it is in spots, Self/Less is still the kind of guilty pleasure that requires few commitments to consumers who discover its small joys. Granted, there’s really not much in any of it that requires a bit of a stretch for the talent pool (Reynolds excepted) because sometimes that’s just the nature of bigtime mythmaking that’s more about bells and whistles ringing loudly than it is about the nuances of life, the universe, and everything. While the nifty parallels involving two alpha males needing to make peace in a single body gives the flick enough of a slim chance to resonate with audiences only in need of a momentary distraction from their troubles, this one could’ve been something a bit more special had director Singh pushed the boundaries far and wide with some equally intellectual chitchat from characters in search of cosmic self-awareness. Not so much a miss as it is a lost opportunity.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Universal Pictures Home Entertainment (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary DVD of Self/Less (2015) 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
(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:
“After the death of her child, Lilly runs away to hide in a lonely corner of her small town. Living alone, she struggles to cope with the traumatic memories of her own upbringing. Ten years after her daughter's death, the fabric of Lilly's world is tearing apart. The ghosts of her past are waking up and tonight she must face the depths of her manic madness and a haunting she won't soon forget.”
There are some motion pictures that are difficult to critically quantify mostly because the mode of delivery is far more education in nature versus presenting an authentic story. While the resulting film may possess all of the ingredients necessary to induce a reaction, an analytical estimation might instead be an evaluation of these pieces as the whole itself remains somewhat vague or chaotic or even open to interpretation. Individually, viewers might ascribe greater worth to it based entirely on his or her own speculation regarding what to make from it all; and yet sometimes it’s best to leave some matters to the purview of those who know better given the fact that none of us can know everything, including precisely what’s going on in the hearts and minds of those most affected by like-changing ordeals.
Lilly – featured in Lilly Lives Alone (2025) – is one such patient.
Raised in a home broken by an absent mother and an abusive yet sickly father, she’s grown into a woman who’s never known her own respective peace of mind. Constantly told she’s of no worth in life and incessantly criticized for never achieving even modest potential, Lilly lives alone in the recesses of her own resulting psychosis, hiding away from even kindly neighbors who might have nothing more than a friendly desire to see her safe and secure. But because she’s been jilted the life, the universe, and everything, the woman can no longer see the forest from the trees; and every living moment plays out like a reminder of how quickly things go from bad to worse when you willingly choose to spend your days in the cover of darkness as opposed to finding a measure of contentment in the light.
Given the insurmountable challenges that have been amassed against one poor woman, how could she be expected to bring a child into this world and give it the proper psychological upbringing?
As such, Lilly is quickly revealed as an unreliable narrator in writer/director Martin Melnick’s complex yet ghostly character study. Supernatural elements abound – jars twist in the background, shadows pass in the lady’s footsteps, doorknobs turn despite only empty rooms lie beyond, etc. – but because all of this surrounds a soul fraught with madness it’s hard to discern fact from fantasy except when it occurs at Lilly’s hands. Undoubtedly, ghosts are ever-present in her life – they’re shown on several occasions – but that doesn’t necessarily mean that these specters truly exist for everyone else in the 100-minute exercise. While some might be inclined to believe there’s more to this than meets the eye, others could make the case that all of it remains in Lilly’s fragile mind.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“After the death of her child, Lilly runs away to hide in a lonely corner of her small town. Living alone, she struggles to cope with the traumatic memories of her own upbringing. Ten years after her daughter's death, the fabric of Lilly's world is tearing apart. The ghosts of her past are waking up and tonight she must face the depths of her manic madness and a haunting she won't soon forget.”
There are some motion pictures that are difficult to critically quantify mostly because the mode of delivery is far more education in nature versus presenting an authentic story. While the resulting film may possess all of the ingredients necessary to induce a reaction, an analytical estimation might instead be an evaluation of these pieces as the whole itself remains somewhat vague or chaotic or even open to interpretation. Individually, viewers might ascribe greater worth to it based entirely on his or her own speculation regarding what to make from it all; and yet sometimes it’s best to leave some matters to the purview of those who know better given the fact that none of us can know everything, including precisely what’s going on in the hearts and minds of those most affected by like-changing ordeals.
Lilly – featured in Lilly Lives Alone (2025) – is one such patient.
Raised in a home broken by an absent mother and an abusive yet sickly father, she’s grown into a woman who’s never known her own respective peace of mind. Constantly told she’s of no worth in life and incessantly criticized for never achieving even modest potential, Lilly lives alone in the recesses of her own resulting psychosis, hiding away from even kindly neighbors who might have nothing more than a friendly desire to see her safe and secure. But because she’s been jilted the life, the universe, and everything, the woman can no longer see the forest from the trees; and every living moment plays out like a reminder of how quickly things go from bad to worse when you willingly choose to spend your days in the cover of darkness as opposed to finding a measure of contentment in the light.
Given the insurmountable challenges that have been amassed against one poor woman, how could she be expected to bring a child into this world and give it the proper psychological upbringing?
As such, Lilly is quickly revealed as an unreliable narrator in writer/director Martin Melnick’s complex yet ghostly character study. Supernatural elements abound – jars twist in the background, shadows pass in the lady’s footsteps, doorknobs turn despite only empty rooms lie beyond, etc. – but because all of this surrounds a soul fraught with madness it’s hard to discern fact from fantasy except when it occurs at Lilly’s hands. Undoubtedly, ghosts are ever-present in her life – they’re shown on several occasions – but that doesn’t necessarily mean that these specters truly exist for everyone else in the 100-minute exercise. While some might be inclined to believe there’s more to this than meets the eye, others could make the case that all of it remains in Lilly’s fragile mind.
Accordingly, it’s difficult to make anything out of Lilly Lives Alone. Part of me appreciates the narrative genius of taking the audience into something that’s much less a descent into madness as it is a front-row seating watching dementia grow into something far more sinister. Yet, there’s a part of me who appreciates how the lady apparently only feels whole when she’s invested in someone to care about, even if and when those feelings aren’t healthily reciprocated. Because she seemingly chooses violence in either case, am I honestly supposed to pity her … or constantly fear her? Melnick never says – not so much as I clearly heard – so I’m left entirely confused what to make of this somewhat dizzying mess.
To her credit, actress Shannon Beeby is fully committed to every stage of her central character’s journey though I’m admittedly at a loss to understand some of where she was going. Moments of whimsy gets as much attention from her as her heightened states of paranoia, and she rather effortlessly glides the watchers through these occasionally clunk vignettes, never showing us the seams of what it takes to achieve so many emotional highs and lows. When Lilly’s panicked, Beeby illustrates exactly what that looks like, even if we may not collectively comprehend the what, when, where, and why. The same for when she’s happy, albeit those bits are fleeting. As everything in here orbits around a kinda/sorta post-partum psychosis (and much, much more), Melnick gets credit for putting even the murkiest moments in the hands of an accomplished talent though I wish he would’ve paid a bit more attention to clarity.
Lilly Lives Alone (2025) was produced by Lilly Film. Based on a quick Google.com search, the film is presently available as a rental or purchase via a variety of streaming platforms. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can assure you that the project boasts some very high-quality sights and sounds, including some practical make-up effects that just might chill you to the bone. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Since I viewed the movie via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
The chief problem with Lilly Lives Alone (2025) – regardless of whether one likes it or not – is that it’s less of a film and more of a character study. That isn’t a bad thing, but folks showing up for Horror – especially Psychological Horror – might not enjoy weaving together meaning from the mystery of what’s real and/or imagined in this, so casual viewers might wish to avoid it entirely. Regardless, trauma exacts a price from each of us, that much is clear. Sometimes it’s high, and sometimes it’s low. Some would argue that it’s how one deals with the resulting pain which helps to define that person not only for now but the rest of his or her days. In this capacity, Lilly was, remains, and forever will be a broken individual, one who deserves more study than pity. Otherwise, what can truly be gained by a depiction of such a fragile state?
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 Lilly Lives Alone (2025) 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
To her credit, actress Shannon Beeby is fully committed to every stage of her central character’s journey though I’m admittedly at a loss to understand some of where she was going. Moments of whimsy gets as much attention from her as her heightened states of paranoia, and she rather effortlessly glides the watchers through these occasionally clunk vignettes, never showing us the seams of what it takes to achieve so many emotional highs and lows. When Lilly’s panicked, Beeby illustrates exactly what that looks like, even if we may not collectively comprehend the what, when, where, and why. The same for when she’s happy, albeit those bits are fleeting. As everything in here orbits around a kinda/sorta post-partum psychosis (and much, much more), Melnick gets credit for putting even the murkiest moments in the hands of an accomplished talent though I wish he would’ve paid a bit more attention to clarity.
Lilly Lives Alone (2025) was produced by Lilly Film. Based on a quick Google.com search, the film is presently available as a rental or purchase via a variety of streaming platforms. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can assure you that the project boasts some very high-quality sights and sounds, including some practical make-up effects that just might chill you to the bone. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Since I viewed the movie via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
The chief problem with Lilly Lives Alone (2025) – regardless of whether one likes it or not – is that it’s less of a film and more of a character study. That isn’t a bad thing, but folks showing up for Horror – especially Psychological Horror – might not enjoy weaving together meaning from the mystery of what’s real and/or imagined in this, so casual viewers might wish to avoid it entirely. Regardless, trauma exacts a price from each of us, that much is clear. Sometimes it’s high, and sometimes it’s low. Some would argue that it’s how one deals with the resulting pain which helps to define that person not only for now but the rest of his or her days. In this capacity, Lilly was, remains, and forever will be a broken individual, one who deserves more study than pity. Otherwise, what can truly be gained by a depiction of such a fragile state?
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 Lilly Lives Alone (2025) 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
site update
So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 2012 (in Italy), Bait enjoyed its theatrical debut when it was first screened for audiences of the Venice Film Festival. Directed by Kimble Rendall from a story by Russell Mulcahy, John Kim, Duncan Kennedy, Justin Monjo, Shayne Armstrong, and S.P. Krause, the film starred Xavier Samuel, Sharni Vinson, Adrian Pang, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A freak tsunami traps shoppers at a coastal Australian supermarket inside the building - along with 12-foot Great White Sharks."
-- EZ
On this day in 2012 (in Italy), Bait enjoyed its theatrical debut when it was first screened for audiences of the Venice Film Festival. Directed by Kimble Rendall from a story by Russell Mulcahy, John Kim, Duncan Kennedy, Justin Monjo, Shayne Armstrong, and S.P. Krause, the film starred Xavier Samuel, Sharni Vinson, Adrian Pang, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A freak tsunami traps shoppers at a coastal Australian supermarket inside the building - along with 12-foot Great White Sharks."
-- EZ
- Published on
Every now and then, a motion picture comes along that – even in some small way – might reaffirm your faith in the abilities of storytellers to tell a good story.
Of course, I realize that initially some of the readership might immediately attach the above statement to my critical position on The Jurassic Games: Extinction (2025); so, I’ll clarify my take right up front in saying it both does and doesn’t. Because this is the preamble to my take and I usually follow this structure almost exclusively on SciFiHistory.Net, there’s sometimes a bit of confusion wherein folks attach ‘high praise’ from my set-up. Of course, that might be my fault – I am writing this, after all – so I’ll ask for your indulgence. Instead, let me encourage all of you to keep reading as I think all will be cleared up before the big finish.
The substantive point I’m making is that – for those of us who watch feature productions big and small closely – surprises can come in many ways. A certain film might have a winning premise, while others might choose to pony up some outstanding performances around a rather lackluster core. Special effects – for better or worse – are growing vastly more affordable with each iteration; and there are a great number of positive and negative effects going hand-in-hand with such an evolution. But glimmers of hope – whenever they surface – deserve to be pointed out and championed: that’s something I always try to do with this site, and I’m willing to give Extinction an affection nod today … though it may not be for the reason(s) some are expecting.
Also, I do want to add that I’m coming to this franchise without having seen its precursor: Extinction is a sequel (as I understand) to 2018’s The Jurassic Games, another one of those direct-to-video flicks that may or may not have been celebrated in certain circles. Given that fact, I’m going on record to also suggest that maybe – just maybe – I’m lacking a bit of narrative context that the original established, and such a deficiency may or may not factor into my estimation of the follow-up. Still, when I’ve a job to do, I do it … and now I’m ready, willing, and able to tell you why I do believe genre fans may wish to take a chance on this otherwise overlooked small universe.
(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 …)
Of course, I realize that initially some of the readership might immediately attach the above statement to my critical position on The Jurassic Games: Extinction (2025); so, I’ll clarify my take right up front in saying it both does and doesn’t. Because this is the preamble to my take and I usually follow this structure almost exclusively on SciFiHistory.Net, there’s sometimes a bit of confusion wherein folks attach ‘high praise’ from my set-up. Of course, that might be my fault – I am writing this, after all – so I’ll ask for your indulgence. Instead, let me encourage all of you to keep reading as I think all will be cleared up before the big finish.
The substantive point I’m making is that – for those of us who watch feature productions big and small closely – surprises can come in many ways. A certain film might have a winning premise, while others might choose to pony up some outstanding performances around a rather lackluster core. Special effects – for better or worse – are growing vastly more affordable with each iteration; and there are a great number of positive and negative effects going hand-in-hand with such an evolution. But glimmers of hope – whenever they surface – deserve to be pointed out and championed: that’s something I always try to do with this site, and I’m willing to give Extinction an affection nod today … though it may not be for the reason(s) some are expecting.
Also, I do want to add that I’m coming to this franchise without having seen its precursor: Extinction is a sequel (as I understand) to 2018’s The Jurassic Games, another one of those direct-to-video flicks that may or may not have been celebrated in certain circles. Given that fact, I’m going on record to also suggest that maybe – just maybe – I’m lacking a bit of narrative context that the original established, and such a deficiency may or may not factor into my estimation of the follow-up. Still, when I’ve a job to do, I do it … and now I’m ready, willing, and able to tell you why I do believe genre fans may wish to take a chance on this otherwise overlooked small universe.
(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:
“Contestants compete to the death in virtual reality battling dinosaurs after being forced into a game by authorities in a dystopian future.”
Consumers of a certain generation were brought up having to accept a bit less from their theatrical and TV genre fare because – in all honesty – special effects wizardry was still a bit in its infancy.
Yes, yes, yes: I can hear all of the naysayers shouting about 1968’s 2001: A Space Odyssey and/or 1977’s Star Wars and/or 1991’s Terminator 2: Judgment Day and how those are now decades old but simply pointing one’s finger at a truly inspired and epic theatrical experience underscores a bit of ignorance of reality. Simply put, not every project could afford such technical wizardry. Not every storyteller imagined such vision and sought to incorporate it into the proceedings. Not every director can be a Stanley Kubrick, George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, or James Cameron. In fact, there are likely far more Roger Cormans – Google it, if you must – than there are Guillermo del Toros; and those of us who grew up on old school special effects will go to our graves telling you young Turks that you don’t know how good you’ve got it!
That said, The Jurassic Games: Extinction – under the direction of award-winning visual effects master Ryan Bellgardt – might not exactly cross every T and dot every i when it comes to sticking the landing with its script. Characters get inserted here and there without a great deal of explanation, necessity, or definition; and the fast-evolving circumstances that serve as a central plot might have benefitted from another set of eyes (unlike the earlier picture, Bellgardt wrote the sequel entirely on his own) if for no other reason than to hammer out some underwhelming and campy dialogue. But … visually? The writer/director has crafted something that looks like it cost probably vastly more than it did; and a few of the action sequences stand up quite well alongside some of the big budget fare that major studios like Marvel, DC, and Universal churn out from their vast (yet largely soulless) assembly lines.
Yes. It’s that good.
“Contestants compete to the death in virtual reality battling dinosaurs after being forced into a game by authorities in a dystopian future.”
Consumers of a certain generation were brought up having to accept a bit less from their theatrical and TV genre fare because – in all honesty – special effects wizardry was still a bit in its infancy.
Yes, yes, yes: I can hear all of the naysayers shouting about 1968’s 2001: A Space Odyssey and/or 1977’s Star Wars and/or 1991’s Terminator 2: Judgment Day and how those are now decades old but simply pointing one’s finger at a truly inspired and epic theatrical experience underscores a bit of ignorance of reality. Simply put, not every project could afford such technical wizardry. Not every storyteller imagined such vision and sought to incorporate it into the proceedings. Not every director can be a Stanley Kubrick, George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, or James Cameron. In fact, there are likely far more Roger Cormans – Google it, if you must – than there are Guillermo del Toros; and those of us who grew up on old school special effects will go to our graves telling you young Turks that you don’t know how good you’ve got it!
That said, The Jurassic Games: Extinction – under the direction of award-winning visual effects master Ryan Bellgardt – might not exactly cross every T and dot every i when it comes to sticking the landing with its script. Characters get inserted here and there without a great deal of explanation, necessity, or definition; and the fast-evolving circumstances that serve as a central plot might have benefitted from another set of eyes (unlike the earlier picture, Bellgardt wrote the sequel entirely on his own) if for no other reason than to hammer out some underwhelming and campy dialogue. But … visually? The writer/director has crafted something that looks like it cost probably vastly more than it did; and a few of the action sequences stand up quite well alongside some of the big budget fare that major studios like Marvel, DC, and Universal churn out from their vast (yet largely soulless) assembly lines.
Yes. It’s that good.
In the future, incarcerated felons are allowed for fight their freedom in the Jurassic Games, a big-time spectacle (not unlike The Hunger Games) wherein winners receive a full pardon while losers are killed necessarily in the course of the ‘virtual reality’ action. Not unlike TV’s Survivor or American Idol and very much similar to 1987’s The Running Man, these contestants are chiefly performing for the benefit of the viewing audience, meaning that there’s very little regard for their health and safety. But somehow the game’s central Artificial Intelligence core – nicknamed G.O.D. – has evolved into its own entity, even digitally reincarnating deceased host Adrian Kane (played by Ryan Francis) for a whole new round of deadly action for a new ensemble of gamers. This unscheduled opus even finds a way to pit two of the biggest adversaries – Tucker (Adam Hampton) and Joy LaFort (Katie Burgess) – in a rematch meant to achieve ratings supremacy. When Tucker’s son gets sucked into the game as well, it becomes a race against time to save lives as well as take down the central processor.
As one might suspect, both Games and Extinction work chiefly off ideas clearly established by other franchises but incorporating them into as seamless a whole as one film might allow. There are obvious hints and throwbacks to the aforementioned Hunger Games and Running Man, but a few more spiritual contributors might take the shape of 1982’s TRON, 1993’s Jurassic Park, and 2000’s Battle Royale. Minimally, these similarities work to easily establish the parameters around which Bellgardt will spread the action; and I don’t think any harm is done to any other studio’s intellectual property in any measurable way. Aesthetically, Extinction feels a bit more like 1975’s Death Race 2000 to this old dog – with vastly less visual carnage on the screen – so you can add that film to the mix about where and when such a confluence of ideas may’ve come into the screenwriter’s imagination.
The trouble with the script is that it never quite hammers out too many of its particulars. (Again: some of this foundation may’ve been part and parcel of The Jurassic Games – which I’ve already admitted to not having seen, but its incumbent upon storytellers to build stories which can and should function independently wherever possible.)
As one might suspect, both Games and Extinction work chiefly off ideas clearly established by other franchises but incorporating them into as seamless a whole as one film might allow. There are obvious hints and throwbacks to the aforementioned Hunger Games and Running Man, but a few more spiritual contributors might take the shape of 1982’s TRON, 1993’s Jurassic Park, and 2000’s Battle Royale. Minimally, these similarities work to easily establish the parameters around which Bellgardt will spread the action; and I don’t think any harm is done to any other studio’s intellectual property in any measurable way. Aesthetically, Extinction feels a bit more like 1975’s Death Race 2000 to this old dog – with vastly less visual carnage on the screen – so you can add that film to the mix about where and when such a confluence of ideas may’ve come into the screenwriter’s imagination.
The trouble with the script is that it never quite hammers out too many of its particulars. (Again: some of this foundation may’ve been part and parcel of The Jurassic Games – which I’ve already admitted to not having seen, but its incumbent upon storytellers to build stories which can and should function independently wherever possible.)
The show is seemingly run by some faceless organization – a company? a government? a hybrid of the two? – and a bit more substance could’ve alleviated a bit of my own confusion. Also, there’s a rebel organization mentioned – the Cavemen – which remains a bit nebulous, possibly because all its membership has died off in the current film (which only begs the question as to why anyone felt it needed to be mentioned in the first place) that hijacks the pace in a few spots. Lastly, a small character’s central identity was concealed until the closing reel, and it was handled in a way that suggested I was supposed to take greater meaning of it than I did or – more importantly – was earned. Surprise twists are always risky, and I’m not sure this one paid off with even a negligible blip.
Additionally, I’ll confess to being somewhat confused by the film’s depiction of virtual reality. Essentially, these competitors are ‘inserted’ into cockpits not unlike what audiences saw of Tony Stark inside his Iron Man suit in the popular Marvel and Disney franchise. But there’s no reasonable explanation for how the mechanisms work. Initially, one would think that if an arm is moved in the cockpit then the corresponding appendage would move in the avatar-like dinosaur; and that seems to be the case most of the time. However, these dinosaurs don’t have the biggest arms – they have massive back legs and a tail – so how exactly does an operator master fighting techniques? There are even a few exchanges which suggest that players can speak to one another whilst in cockpits, but the feature lacks any tangible explanation for how such activity is perceived by those outside the game … even though we see them react to it. Such imprecision had me second guessing how every character knew what was taking place, and it did pull me out of the action more than once or twice.
All of this aside, Extinction still manages to deliver a modicum of fun, reminding me greatly of the kinds of features the SciFi/Syfy Channel used to present those of us home on Saturday nights with engaging. Never very smart, never very prescient, these were still small(ish) pictures that kept our interest with flashy characters and interesting though sporadically cheap visuals. The better ones were always a bit tongue-in-cheek – a sentiment that could’ve elevated Extinction which tries to take itself a bit too literally in spots – and audiences would find a way to still cheer the good and the bad because the heart as in the right place. That’s largely how this one feels, all of it made a great bit more palatable with Bellgardt’s visual style.
Surprisingly, Extinction looks much better than it probably deserves, which is why I’d encourage those who can to seek it out. You’ll likely be glad you did.
Additionally, I’ll confess to being somewhat confused by the film’s depiction of virtual reality. Essentially, these competitors are ‘inserted’ into cockpits not unlike what audiences saw of Tony Stark inside his Iron Man suit in the popular Marvel and Disney franchise. But there’s no reasonable explanation for how the mechanisms work. Initially, one would think that if an arm is moved in the cockpit then the corresponding appendage would move in the avatar-like dinosaur; and that seems to be the case most of the time. However, these dinosaurs don’t have the biggest arms – they have massive back legs and a tail – so how exactly does an operator master fighting techniques? There are even a few exchanges which suggest that players can speak to one another whilst in cockpits, but the feature lacks any tangible explanation for how such activity is perceived by those outside the game … even though we see them react to it. Such imprecision had me second guessing how every character knew what was taking place, and it did pull me out of the action more than once or twice.
All of this aside, Extinction still manages to deliver a modicum of fun, reminding me greatly of the kinds of features the SciFi/Syfy Channel used to present those of us home on Saturday nights with engaging. Never very smart, never very prescient, these were still small(ish) pictures that kept our interest with flashy characters and interesting though sporadically cheap visuals. The better ones were always a bit tongue-in-cheek – a sentiment that could’ve elevated Extinction which tries to take itself a bit too literally in spots – and audiences would find a way to still cheer the good and the bad because the heart as in the right place. That’s largely how this one feels, all of it made a great bit more palatable with Bellgardt’s visual style.
Surprisingly, Extinction looks much better than it probably deserves, which is why I’d encourage those who can to seek it out. You’ll likely be glad you did.
The Jurassic Games: Extinction (2025) was produced by Boiling Point Media. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Well Go USA Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can assure you that the provided sights-and-sounds are quite expert across the picture: clearly, the vast majority of this story was assembled via CGI (of several sorts), and one can expect some measurable highs and lows as a consequence. (FYI: not every scene works perfectly, but the dino-action is very good.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Alas … not a thing. A miss, but it is what it is.
Recommended.
In many ways, The Jurassic Game: Extinction (2025) plays out like some big comic book screen fantasy – with great visuals and some deft action sequences – but don’t look for any of the characters to be anything greater than a player in transition. In a world wherein dinosaurs are so vividly brought to life, must all of the humans be so two-dimensional? About the best that happens is our hero Tucker gives a big speech (to his son) about the errors he’s made as a father, but it’s delivered with leaden efficiency and never amounts to the hill of beans I imagine it looked like it would be on the page. More polish was needed to make the dialogue work, and yet – with graphics this good – some probably won’t give a damn. I still do … but I was still entertained, dammit.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Jurassic Games: Extinction 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
Recommended.
In many ways, The Jurassic Game: Extinction (2025) plays out like some big comic book screen fantasy – with great visuals and some deft action sequences – but don’t look for any of the characters to be anything greater than a player in transition. In a world wherein dinosaurs are so vividly brought to life, must all of the humans be so two-dimensional? About the best that happens is our hero Tucker gives a big speech (to his son) about the errors he’s made as a father, but it’s delivered with leaden efficiency and never amounts to the hill of beans I imagine it looked like it would be on the page. More polish was needed to make the dialogue work, and yet – with graphics this good – some probably won’t give a damn. I still do … but I was still entertained, dammit.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Jurassic Games: Extinction 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
I probably know more about the relationship between The X-Files’ creator Chris Carter and screenwriters James Wong and Glen Morgan than I should.
You see, when Fox Television The X-Files premiered, I was thrilled to see a program finally getting into the weeds of subject matter I had long been fascinated with and thought ripe for weekly procedurals. The sightings of U.F.O.s, contact with aliens, government conspiracies, and backwoods monsters were the stuff of local legends all around the world, and X – under Carter’s stewardship – finally gave voice to this kinda/sorta fringe history of High Strangeness, of which Wong and Morgan were known to have crafted several of the franchise’s best installments. Those days, it was a great time to both be alive and be a fan of such content as X’s popularity arguably influenced other contenders to go boldly in the direction of exploring cryptids, flying saucers, ghosts, goblins, and the like; so it was only natural, I suppose, for tensions behind-the-scenes to put cracks in what appeared to be going so well.
As I recall, Wong and Morgan wanted to push X in a slightly different direction than Carter did; so, they departed to go off and do something different. When that didn’t quite work out the way they planned, Carter – surprisingly and to his credit – welcomed them back into the fold, and fans were the recipients of some incredibly vivid and prescient storytelling. But friction has a way of working up its own head of steam, causing the trio to once again part ways and explore separate projects. Also, from what I know, the group did manage to kinda/sorta work things out and collaborate when The X-Files experienced its TV revival (in 2016 through 2018), but even then there were differences of opinion over how elements of the program’s long-established mythology should be dealt with and/or resolved in the modern era.
Sigh. Such is life, I guess.
In any event, 2000’s Final Destination – the duo’s project with New Line Cinema – actually began its storied life as a spec script for The X-Files (per Google.com). Wong and Morgan saw the potential behind the idea of the Grim Reaper itself serving as an unseen (or was it?) spectral entity with elaborate machinations at its command to coordinate a wicked tapestry around the demise of individuals as a potential gold mine for the screen – possibly even a franchise – and the studio agreed. Thus, a tentpole Horror entity was born, and worldwide audiences were thrilled. It grossed an impressive $112M on a budget of less than $25M … so a phenomenon was born out of Death.
You see, when Fox Television The X-Files premiered, I was thrilled to see a program finally getting into the weeds of subject matter I had long been fascinated with and thought ripe for weekly procedurals. The sightings of U.F.O.s, contact with aliens, government conspiracies, and backwoods monsters were the stuff of local legends all around the world, and X – under Carter’s stewardship – finally gave voice to this kinda/sorta fringe history of High Strangeness, of which Wong and Morgan were known to have crafted several of the franchise’s best installments. Those days, it was a great time to both be alive and be a fan of such content as X’s popularity arguably influenced other contenders to go boldly in the direction of exploring cryptids, flying saucers, ghosts, goblins, and the like; so it was only natural, I suppose, for tensions behind-the-scenes to put cracks in what appeared to be going so well.
As I recall, Wong and Morgan wanted to push X in a slightly different direction than Carter did; so, they departed to go off and do something different. When that didn’t quite work out the way they planned, Carter – surprisingly and to his credit – welcomed them back into the fold, and fans were the recipients of some incredibly vivid and prescient storytelling. But friction has a way of working up its own head of steam, causing the trio to once again part ways and explore separate projects. Also, from what I know, the group did manage to kinda/sorta work things out and collaborate when The X-Files experienced its TV revival (in 2016 through 2018), but even then there were differences of opinion over how elements of the program’s long-established mythology should be dealt with and/or resolved in the modern era.
Sigh. Such is life, I guess.
In any event, 2000’s Final Destination – the duo’s project with New Line Cinema – actually began its storied life as a spec script for The X-Files (per Google.com). Wong and Morgan saw the potential behind the idea of the Grim Reaper itself serving as an unseen (or was it?) spectral entity with elaborate machinations at its command to coordinate a wicked tapestry around the demise of individuals as a potential gold mine for the screen – possibly even a franchise – and the studio agreed. Thus, a tentpole Horror entity was born, and worldwide audiences were thrilled. It grossed an impressive $112M on a budget of less than $25M … so a phenomenon was born out of Death.
(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:
“After getting a premonition about a plane crash on his school trip, Alex, a student, saves a few of his classmates. However, their situation gets complicated when death starts chasing them.”
Not every person or culture fears death, but our collective wish to know whether or not anything exists beyond our current state of affairs has arguably fueled a great many motion pictures. The question that needs consideration at this juncture is whether or not 2000’s Final Destination should be considered amongst such an elite library; and, frankly, I’m coming up a bit short on that matter. The flick as written by James Wong (who also directs), Glen Morgan, and Jeffrey Reddick is certainly an interesting thrill ride, what with its portrayal as Death serving as a vengeful spirit manufacturing these horrific Rube Goldberg scenarios for everyone’s expiration, but its characters – a bunch of teenagers – are all a bit too thin for me to really give much of a damn over their passing.
Along with his classmates, Alex Browning (played by Devon Sawa) is bound for France on some school-sponsored field trip when he’s stricken with a wicked case of paranoia. In some fevered dream while awaiting take-off, he experiences a vision of their plane going up in a ball of flame and plummeting back to Earth. Waking in a panicked state, he essentially rushes off the aircraft, accompanied by several others; and, naturally, the airport authorities refuse to allow him or those who deplaned in the process back onboard. From their lowly state in the gate waiting era, they watch as Flight 180 ascends into the night sky and explodes.
At this point, Alex and the handful of survivors’ lives are thrown into even more chaos. FBI agents suspect that the young man or perhaps those with him might know something about what crippled the aircraft, be it an act of terrorism or whatnot. But as the days pass slowly and family and friends gather to mourn the loss of their loved ones, Alex grows increasingly concerned that he’s been somehow gifted with a singular experience that may yet prove to be the death of him: he comes to believe that the Grim Reaper is insistent upon collecting the souls originally planned, and one-by-one the survivors find themselves targeted by existential forces unknown.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“After getting a premonition about a plane crash on his school trip, Alex, a student, saves a few of his classmates. However, their situation gets complicated when death starts chasing them.”
Not every person or culture fears death, but our collective wish to know whether or not anything exists beyond our current state of affairs has arguably fueled a great many motion pictures. The question that needs consideration at this juncture is whether or not 2000’s Final Destination should be considered amongst such an elite library; and, frankly, I’m coming up a bit short on that matter. The flick as written by James Wong (who also directs), Glen Morgan, and Jeffrey Reddick is certainly an interesting thrill ride, what with its portrayal as Death serving as a vengeful spirit manufacturing these horrific Rube Goldberg scenarios for everyone’s expiration, but its characters – a bunch of teenagers – are all a bit too thin for me to really give much of a damn over their passing.
Along with his classmates, Alex Browning (played by Devon Sawa) is bound for France on some school-sponsored field trip when he’s stricken with a wicked case of paranoia. In some fevered dream while awaiting take-off, he experiences a vision of their plane going up in a ball of flame and plummeting back to Earth. Waking in a panicked state, he essentially rushes off the aircraft, accompanied by several others; and, naturally, the airport authorities refuse to allow him or those who deplaned in the process back onboard. From their lowly state in the gate waiting era, they watch as Flight 180 ascends into the night sky and explodes.
At this point, Alex and the handful of survivors’ lives are thrown into even more chaos. FBI agents suspect that the young man or perhaps those with him might know something about what crippled the aircraft, be it an act of terrorism or whatnot. But as the days pass slowly and family and friends gather to mourn the loss of their loved ones, Alex grows increasingly concerned that he’s been somehow gifted with a singular experience that may yet prove to be the death of him: he comes to believe that the Grim Reaper is insistent upon collecting the souls originally planned, and one-by-one the survivors find themselves targeted by existential forces unknown.
A popular third season episode of the aforementioned The X-Files – namely “Clyde Bruckman’s Final Repose” – a glum and unsuccessful life insurance salesman is cursed with the ability to foresee one’s death. Despite the fact that he knows the exact circumstances around which a potential buyer will meet his (or her) untimely end, the somber Bruckman can’t quite seize the day and take advantage of his gift mostly as he knows on some level that to do so for profit would be an unfair advantage. But at one point in the highly-regarded installment, the man waxes on rather eloquently to the FBI agents about how all of the things needing to happen in the universe in order for them to come together in a single time and a single place is mind blowing; and this is exactly the kind of sentiment that underscores a good deal of Final Destination, except that it’s dealing more with Death than life. These death sequences are elaborate – the choreography alone was likely a logistical nightmare for the cast and crew – but its meant to underscore that when your number is up then your number is up. There will be no way out … well, except when there is.
To that end, Destination functions efficiently on its slim premise, perhaps a bit too much so as the film inevitably succumbs to feeling entirely formulaic in the worst sense of the word. It would seem that the Angel Of Death not only works entirely off a celestial checklist but also has a wicked sense of ingenuity, taking victims only after putting them the most elaborate obstacle courses imaginable. Rather than simply have Tod (Chad Donella) fall in the bathtub, he must first be enticed to slip on water magically running from an unbroken toilet valve … only then to fall face-first into a clothesline … only to have the clothesline coil like a maniacal python about his neck … only to knock over a bottle of shampoo … only to stumble into the tub … only to now step on the bottle and squirt out enough of the oily gel so that he can’t get a suitable foothold to stand up … only to be choked to death by the line tearing into his neck over the added weight of his herking and jerking body.
To add insult to injury, Tod dies with a pair of scissors – something which could possibly have saved his life – just tantalizingly out of reach from his post in the tub.
Look. While I can appreciate the resourcefulness that went into creating such a showstopping fatality, storytellers wound up painting themselves into a corner that required each and every looming death to up the ante even further as the story continued. There are a few more spectacles along the way, and I won’t even try to elaborate on the level of inanity required to sustain this process in what could’ve been Clear Rivers’ (Ali Larter) swan song suffice it to say that – by this point – the idea pretty much devolved into a near-parody of itself. I’m quite certain that isn’t what anyone involved intended; and yet here we are.
To that end, Destination functions efficiently on its slim premise, perhaps a bit too much so as the film inevitably succumbs to feeling entirely formulaic in the worst sense of the word. It would seem that the Angel Of Death not only works entirely off a celestial checklist but also has a wicked sense of ingenuity, taking victims only after putting them the most elaborate obstacle courses imaginable. Rather than simply have Tod (Chad Donella) fall in the bathtub, he must first be enticed to slip on water magically running from an unbroken toilet valve … only then to fall face-first into a clothesline … only to have the clothesline coil like a maniacal python about his neck … only to knock over a bottle of shampoo … only to stumble into the tub … only to now step on the bottle and squirt out enough of the oily gel so that he can’t get a suitable foothold to stand up … only to be choked to death by the line tearing into his neck over the added weight of his herking and jerking body.
To add insult to injury, Tod dies with a pair of scissors – something which could possibly have saved his life – just tantalizingly out of reach from his post in the tub.
Look. While I can appreciate the resourcefulness that went into creating such a showstopping fatality, storytellers wound up painting themselves into a corner that required each and every looming death to up the ante even further as the story continued. There are a few more spectacles along the way, and I won’t even try to elaborate on the level of inanity required to sustain this process in what could’ve been Clear Rivers’ (Ali Larter) swan song suffice it to say that – by this point – the idea pretty much devolved into a near-parody of itself. I’m quite certain that isn’t what anyone involved intended; and yet here we are.
Inevitably, all that really works in here is that central idea – that there’s no escaping Death no matter how hard one tries – and, on that front, Wong manages to achieve something of respectable interest. There’s always an audience for Horror – mainly teenagers, the very same as those depicted in the action herein – and I’ve no doubt they found this whole thing spiffy, nifty, or whatever the kids are calling such schtick these days. It’s clever but inevitably inconsequential.
Also … kudos for the late Tony Todd for showing up in a role that very well may have been Death’s big reveal. His ‘undertaker’ certainly showed uncharacteristic knowledge about life, death, and everything in between; and I suspect his namesake ‘Bludworth’ probably tickled said audiences pink in just the right way.
One of the problems with home video releases which offer up a plethora of extras is that – in small things – viewers learn answers to questions they may’ve had after watching a film; and let me assure you that is most definitely the case with Destination. From what I now know after screening only one behind-the-scenes extra is that producers kinda/sorta forced the director and screenwriter to cut an entire romantic subplot from the film which – had it been included – would have dramatically rectified moments which otherwise appear to have been simply plucked out of the air. Because the powers that be didn’t remove all of the allusions to this extracted relationship, I’m critically left with pointing out that one character – Clear – behaves as if she suffers a Fatal Attraction complex to Alex, always implying she wants something more complex from an otherwise routine teenage friendship. That’s a pretty big miss, if you ask me, and it left me thinking that the young lady was a bit of a developing psycho when nothing further from the truth could’ve been the case.
While some might be willing to dismiss this occurrence as nothing more than a storytelling hiccup, I’m still inclined to stand up on my soapbox and argue otherwise. From what I know, Destination was one of these projects that New Line Cinema heavily test-screened; and the final product was minorly altered based on feedback received from these participants. What viewers wanted was a bit more spectacle here and there – with decidedly less romance – and producers felt inclined to bow to the whims of the consumer. (Mind you, this doesn’t happen often, so there it is.) The efficacy of engaging in such practices will likely always be controversial, especially with those of us who still evaluate films, books, and television shows based on the original visions of the storyteller as opposed to turning fairy tales into modest ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’ outings. If you can’t tell, I’m really no fan of it … but – as a capitalist – I can certainly appreciate a company’s desire to maximize the potential for a positive return on their investment whenever possible.
Also … kudos for the late Tony Todd for showing up in a role that very well may have been Death’s big reveal. His ‘undertaker’ certainly showed uncharacteristic knowledge about life, death, and everything in between; and I suspect his namesake ‘Bludworth’ probably tickled said audiences pink in just the right way.
One of the problems with home video releases which offer up a plethora of extras is that – in small things – viewers learn answers to questions they may’ve had after watching a film; and let me assure you that is most definitely the case with Destination. From what I now know after screening only one behind-the-scenes extra is that producers kinda/sorta forced the director and screenwriter to cut an entire romantic subplot from the film which – had it been included – would have dramatically rectified moments which otherwise appear to have been simply plucked out of the air. Because the powers that be didn’t remove all of the allusions to this extracted relationship, I’m critically left with pointing out that one character – Clear – behaves as if she suffers a Fatal Attraction complex to Alex, always implying she wants something more complex from an otherwise routine teenage friendship. That’s a pretty big miss, if you ask me, and it left me thinking that the young lady was a bit of a developing psycho when nothing further from the truth could’ve been the case.
While some might be willing to dismiss this occurrence as nothing more than a storytelling hiccup, I’m still inclined to stand up on my soapbox and argue otherwise. From what I know, Destination was one of these projects that New Line Cinema heavily test-screened; and the final product was minorly altered based on feedback received from these participants. What viewers wanted was a bit more spectacle here and there – with decidedly less romance – and producers felt inclined to bow to the whims of the consumer. (Mind you, this doesn’t happen often, so there it is.) The efficacy of engaging in such practices will likely always be controversial, especially with those of us who still evaluate films, books, and television shows based on the original visions of the storyteller as opposed to turning fairy tales into modest ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’ outings. If you can’t tell, I’m really no fan of it … but – as a capitalist – I can certainly appreciate a company’s desire to maximize the potential for a positive return on their investment whenever possible.
Still, it’s risky, and I point out why: what if William Shakespeare had been encouraged to let Romeo and Juliet live simply because that’s what the audience wished? Literature would be without one of the greatest stage tragedies ever told, and what remained might very well have been forgotten in the centuries since. That makes me sad, and it should you, too.
Final Destination (2000) was produced by New Line Cinema, Zide-Perry Productions, British Columbia Film Commission, and Hard Eight Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at New Line Home Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure you that the provided sights-and-sounds are quite good throughout the picture: most of the effects work appears practical, and I think it all holds up fairly well twenty-five years later despite some minor quirks here and there. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Wowza. This disc is loaded with three commentaries, deleted scenes (worth a look), a few documentaries, the theatrical trailer, the shooting script, and a few other items – an assortment that should keep fans busy for quite some time. Bravo, New Line! Bravo!
Mildly recommended.
Final Destination (2000) – while occasionally clever – never quite soared the way I think Wong and Morgan originally intended – as a somewhat philosophical reflection on Fate – but, instead, turned into the kind of rowdy crowd pleaser that probably had viewers shouting at the screen. There’s nothing wrong with such saccharin entertainment – indeed, such flicks have bolstered many a studios’ coffers – and yet the ending reduces everything its characters went through to a closing gimmick … another Rube Goldberg entry into ‘how can we maintain maximum potential around such a predictable finish?’ It’s a cheap and easy 100-minutes, and there’s never really anything all that wrong with that.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary DVD of Final Destination (2000) 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
Final Destination (2000) was produced by New Line Cinema, Zide-Perry Productions, British Columbia Film Commission, and Hard Eight Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at New Line Home Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure you that the provided sights-and-sounds are quite good throughout the picture: most of the effects work appears practical, and I think it all holds up fairly well twenty-five years later despite some minor quirks here and there. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Wowza. This disc is loaded with three commentaries, deleted scenes (worth a look), a few documentaries, the theatrical trailer, the shooting script, and a few other items – an assortment that should keep fans busy for quite some time. Bravo, New Line! Bravo!
Mildly recommended.
Final Destination (2000) – while occasionally clever – never quite soared the way I think Wong and Morgan originally intended – as a somewhat philosophical reflection on Fate – but, instead, turned into the kind of rowdy crowd pleaser that probably had viewers shouting at the screen. There’s nothing wrong with such saccharin entertainment – indeed, such flicks have bolstered many a studios’ coffers – and yet the ending reduces everything its characters went through to a closing gimmick … another Rube Goldberg entry into ‘how can we maintain maximum potential around such a predictable finish?’ It’s a cheap and easy 100-minutes, and there’s never really anything all that wrong with that.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary DVD of Final Destination (2000) 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