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So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 1981 (in France), Zombie Lake delivered some truly watered-down walking dead. Directed by Jean Rollin and Julian de Laserna from a story by Julian Esteban and Jesus Franco, the Horror starred Howard Vernon, Anouchka, Nadine Pascal, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"In a small village, somewhere in France, German soldiers, killed and thrown into the lake by the Resistance during WW II, come back."
On this day in 1981 (in France), Zombie Lake delivered some truly watered-down walking dead. Directed by Jean Rollin and Julian de Laserna from a story by Julian Esteban and Jesus Franco, the Horror starred Howard Vernon, Anouchka, Nadine Pascal, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"In a small village, somewhere in France, German soldiers, killed and thrown into the lake by the Resistance during WW II, come back."
A quick Google.com search indicates that Zombie Lake (1981) was previously released on home video back in 2013 via the good people at Kino Lorber under their Redemption label. Folks interested in picking up a copy for their very own collection -- we here at SciFiHistory.Net are huge fans of physical media -- can do so by clicking on the link below:
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So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 1984 (in France), audiences of the Cannes Film Festival were treated to the original bloody premiere of Silent Madness. Written (in part) and directed by Simon Nuchtern, the Horror/Thriller starred Belinda Montgomery, Viveca Lindfors, Solly Marx, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A criminally-insane man is accidentally released from a mental hospital. The staff tries to cover it up, but a young psychiatrist travels to the college town where he committed several murders to warn the locals and await his arrival."
-- EZ
On this day in 1984 (in France), audiences of the Cannes Film Festival were treated to the original bloody premiere of Silent Madness. Written (in part) and directed by Simon Nuchtern, the Horror/Thriller starred Belinda Montgomery, Viveca Lindfors, Solly Marx, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A criminally-insane man is accidentally released from a mental hospital. The staff tries to cover it up, but a young psychiatrist travels to the college town where he committed several murders to warn the locals and await his arrival."
-- EZ
- Published on
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So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 2001 (in France), audiences of the Cannes Film Festival were treated to the theatrical premiere of CQ. Written and directed by the screen by Roman Coppola, the SciFi/Comedy starred Jeremy Davies, Angela Lindvall, Elodie Bouchez, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A young filmmaker in 1960s Paris juggles directing a cheesy sci-fi debacle, directing his own personal art film, coping with his crumbling relationship with his girlfriend, and realizing that he's infatuated with the sci-fi film's starlet."
-- EZ
On this day in 2001 (in France), audiences of the Cannes Film Festival were treated to the theatrical premiere of CQ. Written and directed by the screen by Roman Coppola, the SciFi/Comedy starred Jeremy Davies, Angela Lindvall, Elodie Bouchez, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A young filmmaker in 1960s Paris juggles directing a cheesy sci-fi debacle, directing his own personal art film, coping with his crumbling relationship with his girlfriend, and realizing that he's infatuated with the sci-fi film's starlet."
-- EZ
- Published on
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So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 2018 (in France), audiences of the Cannes Film Festival were treated to the exclusive theatrical premiere of Fahrenheit 451. Ramin Bahrani both directed and adapted (in part) the Ray Bradbury novel for the project, and it starred Michael B. Jordan, Michael Shannon, Cindy Katz, and others. According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"In a terrifying care-free future, a young man, Guy Montag, whose job as a fireman is to burn all books, questions his actions after meeting a young woman - and begins to rebel against society."
For the record:
-- EZ
On this day in 2018 (in France), audiences of the Cannes Film Festival were treated to the exclusive theatrical premiere of Fahrenheit 451. Ramin Bahrani both directed and adapted (in part) the Ray Bradbury novel for the project, and it starred Michael B. Jordan, Michael Shannon, Cindy Katz, and others. According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"In a terrifying care-free future, a young man, Guy Montag, whose job as a fireman is to burn all books, questions his actions after meeting a young woman - and begins to rebel against society."
For the record:
- At the 2018 Primetime Emmy Awards, Fahrenheit 451 received five nominations in the categories of 'Outstanding Cinematography for a Limited Series or Movie,' 'Outstanding Fantasy/SciFi Costumes,' 'Outstanding Sound Editing For A Limited Series, Movie, Or Special,' 'Outstanding Sound Mixing For A Limited Series Or Movie,' and 'Outstanding Television Movie.'
- At the 2019 Saturn Awards, the project received a nomination in the category of 'Best DVD/Blu-ray Release.'
-- EZ
- Published on
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So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 1949 (in the U.S.), the good people of Ann Arbor, Michigan were treated to an exclusive theatrical presentation of It Happens Every Spring, its first screening of record. Directed by Lloyd Bacon from a story by Valentine Davies and Shirley W. Smith, the SciFi/Comedy starre Ray Milland, Jean Peters, Paul Douglas, and others. According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A scientist discovers a formula that makes a baseball which is repelled by wood. He promptly sets out to exploit his discovery."
For the record:
At the 1950 Academy Awards, It Happens Every Spring received a nomination in the category of 'Best Writing - Motion Picture Story.'
-- EZ
On this day in 1949 (in the U.S.), the good people of Ann Arbor, Michigan were treated to an exclusive theatrical presentation of It Happens Every Spring, its first screening of record. Directed by Lloyd Bacon from a story by Valentine Davies and Shirley W. Smith, the SciFi/Comedy starre Ray Milland, Jean Peters, Paul Douglas, and others. According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A scientist discovers a formula that makes a baseball which is repelled by wood. He promptly sets out to exploit his discovery."
For the record:
At the 1950 Academy Awards, It Happens Every Spring received a nomination in the category of 'Best Writing - Motion Picture Story.'
-- EZ
- Published on
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So many movies ... so little time ...
On this day in 1987 (in the U.S.), Ghost Of A Chance brought a bit of otherworld Comedy to television. Directed by Don Taylor from a story by Hank Bradford, the telefilm starred Dick Van Dyke, Redd Foxx, Brynn Thayer, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A piano player is accidentally shot and killed by a policeman. He is sent back to earth to get the cop to help his son audition for a talent search, and in the process the detective discovers a ring of drug dealers and determines to break it."
-- EZ
On this day in 1987 (in the U.S.), Ghost Of A Chance brought a bit of otherworld Comedy to television. Directed by Don Taylor from a story by Hank Bradford, the telefilm starred Dick Van Dyke, Redd Foxx, Brynn Thayer, and others.
According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:
"A piano player is accidentally shot and killed by a policeman. He is sent back to earth to get the cop to help his son audition for a talent search, and in the process the detective discovers a ring of drug dealers and determines to break it."
-- EZ
- Published on
Here’s the thing, folks: I’ve grown very, very, very tired of modern critics comparing new directors to Steven Spielberg.
This is not a complaint so much as it is a benign observation. My personal take on it is that many of these brainiacs are – ahem – vastly younger than I am, and they actually weren’t there during the days of Spielberg’s earliest releases, the ones they seemingly worship as cinema’s high points. While I’ll certainly agree that Jaws (1975), Close Encounters Of The Third Kind (1977), Raiders Of The Lost Ark (1981), and E.T. The Extraterrestrial (1982) demonstrate an incredible run at critical and commercial success from one director that will likely never be seen again (certainly not in my lifetime, I suspect), there was a great deal going on back in those days socially and culturally that contributed to these projects being embraced by so many. In fact, a great deal of their enduring appeal could be attributed to the fact that two or three of them were released in the wake of George Lucas’ Star Wars redefining what cinema was. Science Fiction and Fantasy was evolving from being cerebral thrillers to being pure popcorn delights. Stylistically, Steven shares a lot in common with many other auteurs. I say this to take nothing away from Spielberg’s acclaim: I think that he and his output benefits as much from being in the right place at the right time, and this often gets overlooked when comparing his stuff to other directors.
I know, I know, I know. I sound like an old grouch, and maybe I am. But I also think creative comparisons kinda/sorta does a disservice to emerging talent, implying that their wares deserve to be enjoyed because they remind us of other stories. Certainly, there’s nothing wrong with such associations; it’s just that I strive to evaluate each work I view as independently as I can – removed from such relationships – in order to give as close a bottom-line as humanly possible. I figure that’s what these creatives are owed, so I generally – generally – frown on such parallels.
So that’s why I’m here this morning, eating crow by the plate full, as I’m aghast as just how much 2022’s Watch The Skies (aka UFO Sweden) reminded me of that early Spielbergian experiences. Why, its themes, its characters, its look, and its structure reminded me so much of so many great theatrical outings that worked very hard to propagate this feeling that I felt like I was thrown back into my youth, sitting in the theater, soda in hand, looking up at the welcome glow of the silver screen, feeling alive with the possibilities of being entertained like never before. Though it wasn’t a perfect experience, it was still about as close as I think I’ve come recently … and that deserves mention.
This is not a complaint so much as it is a benign observation. My personal take on it is that many of these brainiacs are – ahem – vastly younger than I am, and they actually weren’t there during the days of Spielberg’s earliest releases, the ones they seemingly worship as cinema’s high points. While I’ll certainly agree that Jaws (1975), Close Encounters Of The Third Kind (1977), Raiders Of The Lost Ark (1981), and E.T. The Extraterrestrial (1982) demonstrate an incredible run at critical and commercial success from one director that will likely never be seen again (certainly not in my lifetime, I suspect), there was a great deal going on back in those days socially and culturally that contributed to these projects being embraced by so many. In fact, a great deal of their enduring appeal could be attributed to the fact that two or three of them were released in the wake of George Lucas’ Star Wars redefining what cinema was. Science Fiction and Fantasy was evolving from being cerebral thrillers to being pure popcorn delights. Stylistically, Steven shares a lot in common with many other auteurs. I say this to take nothing away from Spielberg’s acclaim: I think that he and his output benefits as much from being in the right place at the right time, and this often gets overlooked when comparing his stuff to other directors.
I know, I know, I know. I sound like an old grouch, and maybe I am. But I also think creative comparisons kinda/sorta does a disservice to emerging talent, implying that their wares deserve to be enjoyed because they remind us of other stories. Certainly, there’s nothing wrong with such associations; it’s just that I strive to evaluate each work I view as independently as I can – removed from such relationships – in order to give as close a bottom-line as humanly possible. I figure that’s what these creatives are owed, so I generally – generally – frown on such parallels.
So that’s why I’m here this morning, eating crow by the plate full, as I’m aghast as just how much 2022’s Watch The Skies (aka UFO Sweden) reminded me of that early Spielbergian experiences. Why, its themes, its characters, its look, and its structure reminded me so much of so many great theatrical outings that worked very hard to propagate this feeling that I felt like I was thrown back into my youth, sitting in the theater, soda in hand, looking up at the welcome glow of the silver screen, feeling alive with the possibilities of being entertained like never before. Though it wasn’t a perfect experience, it was still about as close as I think I’ve come recently … and that deserves mention.
(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 rebellious teenager who believes her missing father was abducted by aliens joins forces with a quirky UFO club of endearing misfits. They embark on a high-stakes adventure that defies the law and challenges the very fabric of reality.”
Succinctly put, Watch The Skies is exactly the kind of viewing I love stumbling into.
I truly went into this one blind, mostly. Though I scanned a bit of the advance publicity information I was provided, I didn’t go to any great lengths to understand or retain it. Essentially, I approach such materials only to establish some basic parameters – what am I getting, what if anything has been said about it, who does it involve, etc. – but the older I get the less interested I find myself in these still necessary fluff pieces. My point here is that I encourage others to check this one out blindly as well, and perhaps you’ll be as impressed as I was with it. (Maybe stop reading now, go watch it, and come back to finish the review later. I’m okay with that!)
When she was a little girl, Denise (played by Inez Dahl Torhaug) suffered the tragedy of losing her father from an incident with High Strangeness: based on the findings of his UFO Sweden group, Uno (Oscar Töringe) went out one night to personally investigate a possible event and seemingly vanished from the face of the Earth. His unexplained disappearance cost a colleague and family friend – Lennart (Jesper Barkselius) – his job with the Swedish meteorological society, and it also brought a measure of disgrace onto the reputation of their modest little group. However, several years later and on the eve of a celestial event, Uno’s battered and damaged automobile shows up as curiously as its owner vanished, forcing Denise to join forces with the now-reluctant gang of misfit UFO investigators to once and for all uncover what’s going on in the skies over their sleepy little town.
Functionally, that’s all one needs to know about Watch The Skies. There are a few more key relationships that figure into the plot – Denise has been befriended by local policewoman Tomi (Sara Shirpey) who helps to keep her out of trouble, and Gunnar (Hakan Ehn) has largely turned the UFO group into a band of skeptics instead of flying saucer crusaders – and, to my surprise, nearly all of them figure in small ways to the developments. Much like the best stories involving small groups, the ensemble – rounded out by Isabelle Kyed, Mathias Lithner, and Niklas Kvarnbo Jönsson – works impeccably as a comic ensemble, giving the film an added layer of humor even in its most frenetic moments. Writer/director Victor Danell clearly had a vision for where he wanted to take this trip into delightful screen Fantasy, and it’s nothing short of mesmerizing in just the right ways.
Where I was a bit uncertain (and some of this may be owed to the fact that this originally is a Swedish-language effort and I wonder if something may’ve been lost in translation) was with the relationship between young Denice and the older Lennart.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A rebellious teenager who believes her missing father was abducted by aliens joins forces with a quirky UFO club of endearing misfits. They embark on a high-stakes adventure that defies the law and challenges the very fabric of reality.”
Succinctly put, Watch The Skies is exactly the kind of viewing I love stumbling into.
I truly went into this one blind, mostly. Though I scanned a bit of the advance publicity information I was provided, I didn’t go to any great lengths to understand or retain it. Essentially, I approach such materials only to establish some basic parameters – what am I getting, what if anything has been said about it, who does it involve, etc. – but the older I get the less interested I find myself in these still necessary fluff pieces. My point here is that I encourage others to check this one out blindly as well, and perhaps you’ll be as impressed as I was with it. (Maybe stop reading now, go watch it, and come back to finish the review later. I’m okay with that!)
When she was a little girl, Denise (played by Inez Dahl Torhaug) suffered the tragedy of losing her father from an incident with High Strangeness: based on the findings of his UFO Sweden group, Uno (Oscar Töringe) went out one night to personally investigate a possible event and seemingly vanished from the face of the Earth. His unexplained disappearance cost a colleague and family friend – Lennart (Jesper Barkselius) – his job with the Swedish meteorological society, and it also brought a measure of disgrace onto the reputation of their modest little group. However, several years later and on the eve of a celestial event, Uno’s battered and damaged automobile shows up as curiously as its owner vanished, forcing Denise to join forces with the now-reluctant gang of misfit UFO investigators to once and for all uncover what’s going on in the skies over their sleepy little town.
Functionally, that’s all one needs to know about Watch The Skies. There are a few more key relationships that figure into the plot – Denise has been befriended by local policewoman Tomi (Sara Shirpey) who helps to keep her out of trouble, and Gunnar (Hakan Ehn) has largely turned the UFO group into a band of skeptics instead of flying saucer crusaders – and, to my surprise, nearly all of them figure in small ways to the developments. Much like the best stories involving small groups, the ensemble – rounded out by Isabelle Kyed, Mathias Lithner, and Niklas Kvarnbo Jönsson – works impeccably as a comic ensemble, giving the film an added layer of humor even in its most frenetic moments. Writer/director Victor Danell clearly had a vision for where he wanted to take this trip into delightful screen Fantasy, and it’s nothing short of mesmerizing in just the right ways.
Where I was a bit uncertain (and some of this may be owed to the fact that this originally is a Swedish-language effort and I wonder if something may’ve been lost in translation) was with the relationship between young Denice and the older Lennart.
Initially, it seemed as though he was only circumstantially aware of Uno’s daughter. In the opening vignette, Lennart sees her as a child sitting in the back of the car and says hello, surprised that Uno had brought her along on what we learn was a risky mission. As the story develops (well after Uno’s vanishing), it appears as if Denice and Lennart had vastly more contact with one another than what’s been shown. They seem more than circumstantially aware of one another, with Lennart even filling in the shoes of a surrogate parent, a development given no clear establishing motivation. However, at some point later, the narrative feels loosely like the much older Lennart might have had something stronger than an extended familial attachment to the woman young enough to be his own daughter, a curious sentiment that disappears almost as quick as it emerges. Given the fact that – in the conclusion – Denice’s epiphany (won’t spoil it) seems to suggest that maybe she inevitably favors his companionship over that of her flesh-and-blood father’s, I was a bit concerned with what their connection truly was or might be.
It's a minor quibble, and – as I said – it could just be a little ‘something something’ lost in translation. Being true to myself as a critic, I felt it important enough to mention.
Watch The Skies (aka UFO Sweden) (2022) was produced by Crazy Pictures, Film i Väst, SF Studios, and Sveriges Television (SVT). A quick search of Google.com indicates that the film is presently available only via limited theatrical screenings. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert … wow. The film looks and sounds absolutely incredible. I’ve also read online that the motion picture was the first dubbed into English (FYI: it’s a Swedish production) via A.I., and I can assure you that for a good portion of the running time I had absolutely no idea I was watching a dubbed cut. It’s amazing how seamless it was. (I’ve also seen some stating the contrary, but I can only attest to my own experiences.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? As I viewed this one entirely via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
Highly Recommended.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Crazy Pictures provided me with complimentary streaming access to Watch The Skies (2022) 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
It's a minor quibble, and – as I said – it could just be a little ‘something something’ lost in translation. Being true to myself as a critic, I felt it important enough to mention.
Watch The Skies (aka UFO Sweden) (2022) was produced by Crazy Pictures, Film i Väst, SF Studios, and Sveriges Television (SVT). A quick search of Google.com indicates that the film is presently available only via limited theatrical screenings. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert … wow. The film looks and sounds absolutely incredible. I’ve also read online that the motion picture was the first dubbed into English (FYI: it’s a Swedish production) via A.I., and I can assure you that for a good portion of the running time I had absolutely no idea I was watching a dubbed cut. It’s amazing how seamless it was. (I’ve also seen some stating the contrary, but I can only attest to my own experiences.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? As I viewed this one entirely via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
Highly Recommended.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Crazy Pictures provided me with complimentary streaming access to Watch The Skies (2022) 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:
“An eccentric inventor and his companions travel in his TARDIS to the Planet Skaro and battle the evil menace of the Daleks.”
There are a good many fans around the world – particularly those outside of the United Kingdom – who never even knew that the famed, long-running Science Fiction and Fantasy franchise Doctor Who had not one but two theatrical outings.
As the story goes, Amicus Productions knew a good thing when they saw it; and this all-new television serial that was Doctor Who was growing both in popularity and cultural relevance. For the paltry sum of £500, Amicus purchased the rights from the BBC and Daleks’ creator Terry Nation for the purposes of transforming the property into a trilogy of films for the big screen. Alas, only two of the features were ever made and released; but Dr. Who & The Daleks (1965) brought the signature time-traveler, a few of his companions (granddaughters, really), and audiences into theatrical existence for a brief shot at big screen fame and fortune. Yes, given that only two planned adventures were ever completed, it’s safe to suggest that these outings didn’t exactly match the potential of the TV incarnation – one that has lasted over six decades – but kudos to all involved for taking Who as far as they did.
Now, I suspect one of the requirements to translating Who from small screens to big would be that screenwriters Milton Subotsky, Sydney Newman (original concepts), and David Whitaker (original concepts) had to somehow modestly differentiate their effort from what had already come before in the BBC show. Originally, these dreaded robots were introduced in William Hartnell’s first season in charge of the TARDIS, covering the serialized story across 7 episodes. Though these earliest scripts kinda/sorta left the Doctor’s origins a bit ambiguous, they still strongly established that he was born elsewhere – beyond our humble star system – but the motion picture directed by Gordon Flemyng clearly casts its lead character as a human being.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An eccentric inventor and his companions travel in his TARDIS to the Planet Skaro and battle the evil menace of the Daleks.”
There are a good many fans around the world – particularly those outside of the United Kingdom – who never even knew that the famed, long-running Science Fiction and Fantasy franchise Doctor Who had not one but two theatrical outings.
As the story goes, Amicus Productions knew a good thing when they saw it; and this all-new television serial that was Doctor Who was growing both in popularity and cultural relevance. For the paltry sum of £500, Amicus purchased the rights from the BBC and Daleks’ creator Terry Nation for the purposes of transforming the property into a trilogy of films for the big screen. Alas, only two of the features were ever made and released; but Dr. Who & The Daleks (1965) brought the signature time-traveler, a few of his companions (granddaughters, really), and audiences into theatrical existence for a brief shot at big screen fame and fortune. Yes, given that only two planned adventures were ever completed, it’s safe to suggest that these outings didn’t exactly match the potential of the TV incarnation – one that has lasted over six decades – but kudos to all involved for taking Who as far as they did.
Now, I suspect one of the requirements to translating Who from small screens to big would be that screenwriters Milton Subotsky, Sydney Newman (original concepts), and David Whitaker (original concepts) had to somehow modestly differentiate their effort from what had already come before in the BBC show. Originally, these dreaded robots were introduced in William Hartnell’s first season in charge of the TARDIS, covering the serialized story across 7 episodes. Though these earliest scripts kinda/sorta left the Doctor’s origins a bit ambiguous, they still strongly established that he was born elsewhere – beyond our humble star system – but the motion picture directed by Gordon Flemyng clearly casts its lead character as a human being.
One might think that such a small change would matter little to viewers but therein lies the film’s biggest shortcoming: instead of presenting audiences with a novelty with knowledge of the life, the universe, and everything ‘out there,’ Cushing is hamstrung as just being little more than one of us. Instead of gifting him with eccentricities that modestly defy the norm, this Doctor seems too parochial to think outside the box containing traditional Earth values. In one scene, he even advocates for the downtrodden Thals – a species of humanlike aliens who’ve been oppressed by the Daleks – to take up arms and fight the dastardly automatons, a blatant act of aggression the Doctor as traditionally presented on television generally despises. But as an ordinary human who is apparently gifted with little more than some scientific acumen? Well, he thinks just like we do. We rather commonly resort to ‘standing up for what’s right’ even if and when such a tactic might be fruitless, mostly because it’s just how we’re wired territorially.
Thankfully, his companions – granddaughters Barbara (played by Jennie Linden) and Susan (Roberta Tovey) along with Barbara’s incessantly bumbling boyfriend Ian (Roy Castle) – do strongly adhere to those values aptly demonstrated in the long-running TV show’s core mythology. While they’re not above mixing it up when completely necessary, the trio do far more to represent Who’s sanctity of preserving all life as the first, best alternative. Once they realize that the options are limited, they adapt their composures and fight to the finish alongside the Thals in the final reel, never resorting to the somewhat bloodthirsty countenance that the Doctor possesses in the procedure.
Furthermore, the script not only mischaracterizes its lead protagonist but also mostly gets the central antagonists wrong: the Daleks here are unusually impotent, never quite rising to the level of an authentic adversary but rather kinda/sorta bumbling, too, into bits of rather casual evil. Their introduction is a bit rushed – almost to the point wherein Flemyng and company expected ticket buyers would show up already knowing who they were and what they stood for – so their reveal is rather blasé. Instead of committing egregious sins, they’re given more speeches threatening to ‘bust a cap’ as soon as they can get all their ducks in a row, and who among us doesn’t know that in fiction talk is cheap? Some modest practical effects work – Daleks shooting steam, menacing claws, etc. – do elevate the threat level enough so that audiences can take what little action there is seriously, but these forever slow-moving and cumbersome machines come off here as ill-conceived (at best) and ‘Chatty Kathys’ (at worst).
Perhaps what Flemyng ultimately got right in this presentation is that Doctor Who – as the entity – was always really intended as a character meant to inspire the young or the young-at-heart. Back in Who’s heyday, it was largely entertainment for entertainment’s sake; while a lesson could’ve been learned along the way or a sermon delivered about good and evil, such storytelling was still more about dishing out some vivid sights, sounds, and characters meant to tickle fancies more than they ever were to produce shock and awe. Thus, giving aspiring actress Tovey so much screen time likely won over the provincial kiddies watching – she truly is a delightful Susan – even if that meant revamping the Doctor into more of a ‘Willy Wonka’ type character who would plod about more as a follower-in-chief than commander. Similarly, Ian dishes out a good deal of vaudeville-style pratfalls, too, oft underscoring that no one here was ever in any real jeopardy, a sentiment that the adults in the crowd probably appreciated as much.
Thankfully, his companions – granddaughters Barbara (played by Jennie Linden) and Susan (Roberta Tovey) along with Barbara’s incessantly bumbling boyfriend Ian (Roy Castle) – do strongly adhere to those values aptly demonstrated in the long-running TV show’s core mythology. While they’re not above mixing it up when completely necessary, the trio do far more to represent Who’s sanctity of preserving all life as the first, best alternative. Once they realize that the options are limited, they adapt their composures and fight to the finish alongside the Thals in the final reel, never resorting to the somewhat bloodthirsty countenance that the Doctor possesses in the procedure.
Furthermore, the script not only mischaracterizes its lead protagonist but also mostly gets the central antagonists wrong: the Daleks here are unusually impotent, never quite rising to the level of an authentic adversary but rather kinda/sorta bumbling, too, into bits of rather casual evil. Their introduction is a bit rushed – almost to the point wherein Flemyng and company expected ticket buyers would show up already knowing who they were and what they stood for – so their reveal is rather blasé. Instead of committing egregious sins, they’re given more speeches threatening to ‘bust a cap’ as soon as they can get all their ducks in a row, and who among us doesn’t know that in fiction talk is cheap? Some modest practical effects work – Daleks shooting steam, menacing claws, etc. – do elevate the threat level enough so that audiences can take what little action there is seriously, but these forever slow-moving and cumbersome machines come off here as ill-conceived (at best) and ‘Chatty Kathys’ (at worst).
Perhaps what Flemyng ultimately got right in this presentation is that Doctor Who – as the entity – was always really intended as a character meant to inspire the young or the young-at-heart. Back in Who’s heyday, it was largely entertainment for entertainment’s sake; while a lesson could’ve been learned along the way or a sermon delivered about good and evil, such storytelling was still more about dishing out some vivid sights, sounds, and characters meant to tickle fancies more than they ever were to produce shock and awe. Thus, giving aspiring actress Tovey so much screen time likely won over the provincial kiddies watching – she truly is a delightful Susan – even if that meant revamping the Doctor into more of a ‘Willy Wonka’ type character who would plod about more as a follower-in-chief than commander. Similarly, Ian dishes out a good deal of vaudeville-style pratfalls, too, oft underscoring that no one here was ever in any real jeopardy, a sentiment that the adults in the crowd probably appreciated as much.
Dr. Who & The Daleks (1965) was produced by AARU Productions, Amicus Productions, and BBC-TV Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Severin Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure you that this all-new 4K restoration (from the Techniscope Negative) looks and sounds fantastic. Colors are especially crisp and pop, and the cinematography is truly brought to life by the effort. The transfer truly looks good, and I’m thrilled to have discovered it this way as opposed to any earlier opaque television broadcast airing.
Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Again, Severin never fails to delight fans, and there’s plenty to get excited about here. The two-disc set boasts interviews, stills, and documentaries, along with three commentary tracks. (A bit of warning: after listening to all three, I strongly endorse the one featuring stars Linden and Tovey if you’re looking for actual insights into the production. The first track – with Barry Forshaw, Stephen Jones, and Kim Newman – is particularly awful as the three of them speak at breakneck speed, often times talking over-the-top of one another to the point of it being little more than verbal gibberish. The last one – with Kim Newman and scribes Robert Shearman and Mark Gatiss – is quite good as well, but it’s ill-conceived as a ‘commentary track.’ It would’ve been better served to have been produced as a roundtable conversation – with video snippets inserted – as they’re rarely talking in any great depth about this film, instead comparing it to the wider Who mythology. It’s good, but it's a bit frustrating in this format.)
Recommended … more so as an oddity than anything else.
Sadly, Dr. Who & The Daleks never tapped the creative vein properly, so there’s little surprise that this occasionally interesting but still rather bland movie is forgotten if even heard about by most. Some of the fault is owed to the fact that as scripted it really only focuses on the villains – the Daleks – never quite delivering a central protagonist – the good Doctor – worthy of standing toe-to-toe with them in conflict. Cushing’s take is good-natured enough to watch, but grounding the alien as instead a mere mortal and somewhat doddering elderly grandfather diminishes any significant reason to watch what he can do as a marquee presence here, and the characterization often stands in direct opposition to the famed do-gooder TV audiences came to know and love. A near-miss of galactic proportions, the film really only has nostalgia to offer: if that’s enough, then give it a whirl. At a slim 82 minutes running time, what have you go to lose?
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Severin Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Dr. Who & The Daleks (1965) 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
Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Again, Severin never fails to delight fans, and there’s plenty to get excited about here. The two-disc set boasts interviews, stills, and documentaries, along with three commentary tracks. (A bit of warning: after listening to all three, I strongly endorse the one featuring stars Linden and Tovey if you’re looking for actual insights into the production. The first track – with Barry Forshaw, Stephen Jones, and Kim Newman – is particularly awful as the three of them speak at breakneck speed, often times talking over-the-top of one another to the point of it being little more than verbal gibberish. The last one – with Kim Newman and scribes Robert Shearman and Mark Gatiss – is quite good as well, but it’s ill-conceived as a ‘commentary track.’ It would’ve been better served to have been produced as a roundtable conversation – with video snippets inserted – as they’re rarely talking in any great depth about this film, instead comparing it to the wider Who mythology. It’s good, but it's a bit frustrating in this format.)
Recommended … more so as an oddity than anything else.
Sadly, Dr. Who & The Daleks never tapped the creative vein properly, so there’s little surprise that this occasionally interesting but still rather bland movie is forgotten if even heard about by most. Some of the fault is owed to the fact that as scripted it really only focuses on the villains – the Daleks – never quite delivering a central protagonist – the good Doctor – worthy of standing toe-to-toe with them in conflict. Cushing’s take is good-natured enough to watch, but grounding the alien as instead a mere mortal and somewhat doddering elderly grandfather diminishes any significant reason to watch what he can do as a marquee presence here, and the characterization often stands in direct opposition to the famed do-gooder TV audiences came to know and love. A near-miss of galactic proportions, the film really only has nostalgia to offer: if that’s enough, then give it a whirl. At a slim 82 minutes running time, what have you go to lose?
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Severin Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Dr. Who & The Daleks (1965) 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
There are many theories as to why we culturally love the stories involving serial killers.
Some suggest that there’s a vicarious thrill in being able to witness the parade of evil from the comfort and safety of our living rooms or the movie theater. Others insist that each of us holds a secret desire to study the more dangerous side of human psychology, but we still prefer to do so from only a safe distance. Evolutions propose that it’s perfectly natural for anyone to study the world around him or her with the intent of identifying threats that are then best avoided. Of course, there’s no denying that we likely find some reassurance in the fact that the guilty parties are brought to justice, but because that doesn’t always happen in these narratives that notion might be fairly low on the list of prospects.
As a matter of fact, one of history’s greatest serial killers – England’s famed Jack The Ripper – has never been identified to the point wherein all forensics experts agree. Though there are a few suspects universally accepted to be the strongest possibilities, the singular butcher somehow managed to escape detection back then and across the decades; and there’s little chance we’ll ever know who truly enacted such a campaign of depravity. Still, countless books, TV shows, and movies continue to postulate solutions; so, let’s all decide that – at the very least – there’s still great value in keep this cold case open indefinitely.
Though 1959’s Jack The Ripper wasn’t the first theatrical interpretation on the mythology, it’s still credited as being the first to do so without obscuring some of the facts, figures, and frenzy with greater artistic license. Directed by Robert S. Baker and Monty Berman, the script shows credited to Jimmy Sangster, Peter Hammond, and Colin Craig. Amongst the cast were such names as Lee Patterson, Eddie Byrne, Betty McDowall, Ewen Solon, John Le Mesurier, and others. While imperfect, the result is still largely regarded as an effective retelling of the Ripper legend even if it takes those shortcuts necessary to have the picture compete alongside other Horror features of its day.
(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 serial killer is murdering women in the Whitechapel district of London. An American policeman is brought in to help Scotland Yard solve the case.”
Some suggest that there’s a vicarious thrill in being able to witness the parade of evil from the comfort and safety of our living rooms or the movie theater. Others insist that each of us holds a secret desire to study the more dangerous side of human psychology, but we still prefer to do so from only a safe distance. Evolutions propose that it’s perfectly natural for anyone to study the world around him or her with the intent of identifying threats that are then best avoided. Of course, there’s no denying that we likely find some reassurance in the fact that the guilty parties are brought to justice, but because that doesn’t always happen in these narratives that notion might be fairly low on the list of prospects.
As a matter of fact, one of history’s greatest serial killers – England’s famed Jack The Ripper – has never been identified to the point wherein all forensics experts agree. Though there are a few suspects universally accepted to be the strongest possibilities, the singular butcher somehow managed to escape detection back then and across the decades; and there’s little chance we’ll ever know who truly enacted such a campaign of depravity. Still, countless books, TV shows, and movies continue to postulate solutions; so, let’s all decide that – at the very least – there’s still great value in keep this cold case open indefinitely.
Though 1959’s Jack The Ripper wasn’t the first theatrical interpretation on the mythology, it’s still credited as being the first to do so without obscuring some of the facts, figures, and frenzy with greater artistic license. Directed by Robert S. Baker and Monty Berman, the script shows credited to Jimmy Sangster, Peter Hammond, and Colin Craig. Amongst the cast were such names as Lee Patterson, Eddie Byrne, Betty McDowall, Ewen Solon, John Le Mesurier, and others. While imperfect, the result is still largely regarded as an effective retelling of the Ripper legend even if it takes those shortcuts necessary to have the picture compete alongside other Horror features of its day.
(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 serial killer is murdering women in the Whitechapel district of London. An American policeman is brought in to help Scotland Yard solve the case.”
Confession time: I’ve never been one all that pleased when Hollywood types – or the general entertainment producers around the world – take creative liberties with historical accounts.
Longtime readers will notice that, yes, I have been known to nitpick. When films retool reality all for the purposes of creating greater melodrama for audiences, I’m apt to – ahem – point and laugh. (Apologies, but I’m just being true to myself.) My reason for this is that far too many casual viewers will watch a dramatized retelling of some moment from our past; and then they will accept this fictionalized account as the real deal. (Trust me: I’ve seen this happen plenty of times.) If you’re going to respect history, then you – as a storyteller – owe it to yourselves and society at large to strive for the greatest accuracy possible. Otherwise, just go out and create your own myth, leaving those of us who respect reality to be useful stewards of facts.
Now, this doesn’t mean in any way that I find no enjoyment in such melodramas. My position is that they have their time and place in entertainment but not education: trying to position a project as being fact-based when it’s everything but is a disservice to the audience and your chosen profession. However, if you can confirm at some point early in the procedural that you’re only using a particular myth as the jumping off point, then I’m more apt to enjoy the film as a kinda/sorta ‘jazz riff.’ Sure, it’s derivative, but you never claim in any way to be a curator of history. You’re a storyteller, and nothing else.
That’s where I think producer Joseph E. Levine did right by moviegoers with unleashing Jack The Ripper in theaters. Crafting the myth as a stand-alone Horror feature that was fully intended to compete on those merits very like guaranteed that no one buying a ticket expected Ripper to be a resuscitation of facts; instead, they showed up expecting the thrill ride as it was scripted to be, complete with the famed murderer’s identity revealed in the closing reel before he received justice by way of the universe and not at the hands of Scotland Yard. It was a grim demise, captured with a bit of technical wizardry that likely impresses even decade later.
Inspector O’Neill (played by Eddie Byrne) has been tasked with the unimaginable responsibility of bringing the nefarious Jack The Ripper to account for his grisly crimes, but every trail he follows leads nowhere. At the end of his wits, he even pairs up with a friend of his – an American detective on holiday in England – with hopes that a fresh pair of eyes on the slim pile of evidence might increase his chances. Together, O’Neill and Sam Lowry (Lee Patterson) respond to the newly discovered bodies, only to realize over and over again that the Ripper remains one step ahead of them all the way. It isn’t until the lovely Anne Ford (Betty McDowall) finds herself in a precarious position – trapped between the murderer and a locked door – that they finally get the break they’ve hoped for … if it only isn’t too late.
Stylistically, there really isn’t anything all that grand surrounding most of the film. While production design is respectable throughout, it grows increasingly clear that Baker and Berman’s intent to truly glorify the various ‘scenes of the crime’ was the greatest strength they had going for all of this. In that respect, the dimly-lit streets of Whitechapel became a character all their own, with long stretches of dark stones and tiny pools of light breaking through a pervasive mist. It’s exactly the kind of place wherein a killer could easily move about undetected, trafficking in the shadows and speaking only in a gravely voice, and they expertly bring to life a locale that’s as intricately tied to the legend as is the Ripper himself. They worked hard to bring these nightmares to life about as vividly as censors of the 1950’s would allow; and it’s these segments that give Jack its timeless, cult appeal.
Longtime readers will notice that, yes, I have been known to nitpick. When films retool reality all for the purposes of creating greater melodrama for audiences, I’m apt to – ahem – point and laugh. (Apologies, but I’m just being true to myself.) My reason for this is that far too many casual viewers will watch a dramatized retelling of some moment from our past; and then they will accept this fictionalized account as the real deal. (Trust me: I’ve seen this happen plenty of times.) If you’re going to respect history, then you – as a storyteller – owe it to yourselves and society at large to strive for the greatest accuracy possible. Otherwise, just go out and create your own myth, leaving those of us who respect reality to be useful stewards of facts.
Now, this doesn’t mean in any way that I find no enjoyment in such melodramas. My position is that they have their time and place in entertainment but not education: trying to position a project as being fact-based when it’s everything but is a disservice to the audience and your chosen profession. However, if you can confirm at some point early in the procedural that you’re only using a particular myth as the jumping off point, then I’m more apt to enjoy the film as a kinda/sorta ‘jazz riff.’ Sure, it’s derivative, but you never claim in any way to be a curator of history. You’re a storyteller, and nothing else.
That’s where I think producer Joseph E. Levine did right by moviegoers with unleashing Jack The Ripper in theaters. Crafting the myth as a stand-alone Horror feature that was fully intended to compete on those merits very like guaranteed that no one buying a ticket expected Ripper to be a resuscitation of facts; instead, they showed up expecting the thrill ride as it was scripted to be, complete with the famed murderer’s identity revealed in the closing reel before he received justice by way of the universe and not at the hands of Scotland Yard. It was a grim demise, captured with a bit of technical wizardry that likely impresses even decade later.
Inspector O’Neill (played by Eddie Byrne) has been tasked with the unimaginable responsibility of bringing the nefarious Jack The Ripper to account for his grisly crimes, but every trail he follows leads nowhere. At the end of his wits, he even pairs up with a friend of his – an American detective on holiday in England – with hopes that a fresh pair of eyes on the slim pile of evidence might increase his chances. Together, O’Neill and Sam Lowry (Lee Patterson) respond to the newly discovered bodies, only to realize over and over again that the Ripper remains one step ahead of them all the way. It isn’t until the lovely Anne Ford (Betty McDowall) finds herself in a precarious position – trapped between the murderer and a locked door – that they finally get the break they’ve hoped for … if it only isn’t too late.
Stylistically, there really isn’t anything all that grand surrounding most of the film. While production design is respectable throughout, it grows increasingly clear that Baker and Berman’s intent to truly glorify the various ‘scenes of the crime’ was the greatest strength they had going for all of this. In that respect, the dimly-lit streets of Whitechapel became a character all their own, with long stretches of dark stones and tiny pools of light breaking through a pervasive mist. It’s exactly the kind of place wherein a killer could easily move about undetected, trafficking in the shadows and speaking only in a gravely voice, and they expertly bring to life a locale that’s as intricately tied to the legend as is the Ripper himself. They worked hard to bring these nightmares to life about as vividly as censors of the 1950’s would allow; and it’s these segments that give Jack its timeless, cult appeal.
To a tiresome degree, the script tries a bit too hard to propose multiple suspects who just might be the one to have filled the Ripper’s streetwise shoes. There are a few physicians suggested – along with a curiously mute and deformed medical assistant – but these are somewhat obvious choices given the nature of the crimes, all reporting incisions done with “surgical precision.” You can almost see the color-by-numbers approach being taken along the way – each of them shows up with plenty of plausible reason to have been near the successive killings – and it would’ve been nice had the directors dialed some of that back, relying more on a bit of nuance. But when thrills are what drives a picture’s box office success, Baker and Berman relied a bit too formulaically on what they had, even though the flick isn’t acknowledged as being any runaway hit.
Jack The Ripper (1959) was produced by Mid Century Film Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Severin Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still attest that the provided sights and sounds – reported to have been remastered in 4K from a newly discovered internegative and fine grain protection print – are quite good. Mind you: there’s a great deal of grain in several scenes and sequences, but I’m quite certain any imperfections are owed to source materials. (Any bit of reading will underscore that this one was thought to have been lost to the ages until not all that long ago.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, congrats! You have some solid extras to experience, including two different cuts (a European and a U.S., mostly differentiated with some salacious nudity), a commentary track, a few short documentaries, and the usual tidbits (posters, still galleries, etc.) one comes to expect from a name like Severin. Well done.
Recommended.
While I’ll concede that – as a story – Jack The Ripper (1959) never achieves any measure of greatness visually or contextually, I still had an awful lot of fun with it. In fact, it is in many ways very is similar to 2001’s From Hell, the adaptation of the Alan Moore graphic novel directed by the Hughes Brothers. Baker and Berman’s cinematography is a bit predictable, but a good deal of it is salvaged – especially in the murderous moments – by some solid production details evoking the dank, dirty, and fog-shrouded streets of the Whitechapel District. Alas, the famed Ripper never gets the exposure he’s due (the script does name a guilty culprit a bit haphazardly, but the police and their investigation were about as useless as were the forensics experts of the day). Instead, he’s mostly reduced to little more than a ‘Creature Feature’ – a Victorian Freddy Krueger, if you will – but that works just fine for the limited landscape of this presentation.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Severin Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Jack The Ripper (1959) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
Jack The Ripper (1959) was produced by Mid Century Film Productions. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Severin Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still attest that the provided sights and sounds – reported to have been remastered in 4K from a newly discovered internegative and fine grain protection print – are quite good. Mind you: there’s a great deal of grain in several scenes and sequences, but I’m quite certain any imperfections are owed to source materials. (Any bit of reading will underscore that this one was thought to have been lost to the ages until not all that long ago.) Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Well, congrats! You have some solid extras to experience, including two different cuts (a European and a U.S., mostly differentiated with some salacious nudity), a commentary track, a few short documentaries, and the usual tidbits (posters, still galleries, etc.) one comes to expect from a name like Severin. Well done.
Recommended.
While I’ll concede that – as a story – Jack The Ripper (1959) never achieves any measure of greatness visually or contextually, I still had an awful lot of fun with it. In fact, it is in many ways very is similar to 2001’s From Hell, the adaptation of the Alan Moore graphic novel directed by the Hughes Brothers. Baker and Berman’s cinematography is a bit predictable, but a good deal of it is salvaged – especially in the murderous moments – by some solid production details evoking the dank, dirty, and fog-shrouded streets of the Whitechapel District. Alas, the famed Ripper never gets the exposure he’s due (the script does name a guilty culprit a bit haphazardly, but the police and their investigation were about as useless as were the forensics experts of the day). Instead, he’s mostly reduced to little more than a ‘Creature Feature’ – a Victorian Freddy Krueger, if you will – but that works just fine for the limited landscape of this presentation.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Severin Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Jack The Ripper (1959) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- Published on
(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 photographer's road trip takes a dark turn when he befriends a reckless couple, plunging him into a nightmarish neo-noir spiral of unpredictable horror.”
There’s a certain breed of film criticism I’ve always abhorred, and I encourage people to avoid it.
You see, I – like you – don’t need to be told by any brainiac what to think of a particular production. While I can support with some soothsayer given me a bit of a guided tour as to what a particular scene or a winning performance might weigh in any equation, I detest having such arguments handed to me at face value. Film is art; and – as art – it deserves to be evaluated by each and every person who views it. That strain of critic who thinks anyone needs his or her opinion in order to truly appreciate any effort’s highs and lows should be avoided like the plague or – at the very least – like the latest mutation of the cursed COVID.
On the other hand, I can perfectly well appreciate how a viewer who has just completed 2024’s A Desert – from writer/director Joshua Erkman – might take to the internet in search of the answer to the immortal question: “What did I just watch?”
Without divulging too many of the secrets learned along the way, A Desert isn’t easy pickings. It’s the story of a wayward semi-professional photographer who – later in his career – still seeks to find himself in spite of the cost to himself, his art, and his marriage. Equally, it’s the tale of his wife who has never come to terms with the fact that she’s fallen in love with a man some would consider beneath her social station. And in an even stranger turns of events, it’s the account of a disgraced cop-turned-private eye who can’t quite shake the appeal the dark side of police work has given him. Into this mix comes a bit of mystery and murder with some of the seedier characters seen in independent cinema; but all of it proves that answers are easy, especially ones you may spend an entire lifetime chasing.
Frankly, A Desert is the kind of experience – much like the early films of the Coen Brothers or David Lynch – that deserves to be almost entirely unspoiled. At times, it resonates similar to Blood Simple (1984) – a movie I didn’t much particularly care for – or even Fargo (1996) but with vastly less humor. (I don’t think there’s an authentic laugh in here.) Still, other elements vibrate with the same kind of latent intensity that brought Blue Velvet (1986) or Wild At Heart (1990) to critical and commercial success; I’ve no way of knowing whether or not A Desert might eventually attract the same reputation, but it’s definitely struck out on a path where angels fear to tread. That much is certain.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A photographer's road trip takes a dark turn when he befriends a reckless couple, plunging him into a nightmarish neo-noir spiral of unpredictable horror.”
There’s a certain breed of film criticism I’ve always abhorred, and I encourage people to avoid it.
You see, I – like you – don’t need to be told by any brainiac what to think of a particular production. While I can support with some soothsayer given me a bit of a guided tour as to what a particular scene or a winning performance might weigh in any equation, I detest having such arguments handed to me at face value. Film is art; and – as art – it deserves to be evaluated by each and every person who views it. That strain of critic who thinks anyone needs his or her opinion in order to truly appreciate any effort’s highs and lows should be avoided like the plague or – at the very least – like the latest mutation of the cursed COVID.
On the other hand, I can perfectly well appreciate how a viewer who has just completed 2024’s A Desert – from writer/director Joshua Erkman – might take to the internet in search of the answer to the immortal question: “What did I just watch?”
Without divulging too many of the secrets learned along the way, A Desert isn’t easy pickings. It’s the story of a wayward semi-professional photographer who – later in his career – still seeks to find himself in spite of the cost to himself, his art, and his marriage. Equally, it’s the tale of his wife who has never come to terms with the fact that she’s fallen in love with a man some would consider beneath her social station. And in an even stranger turns of events, it’s the account of a disgraced cop-turned-private eye who can’t quite shake the appeal the dark side of police work has given him. Into this mix comes a bit of mystery and murder with some of the seedier characters seen in independent cinema; but all of it proves that answers are easy, especially ones you may spend an entire lifetime chasing.
Frankly, A Desert is the kind of experience – much like the early films of the Coen Brothers or David Lynch – that deserves to be almost entirely unspoiled. At times, it resonates similar to Blood Simple (1984) – a movie I didn’t much particularly care for – or even Fargo (1996) but with vastly less humor. (I don’t think there’s an authentic laugh in here.) Still, other elements vibrate with the same kind of latent intensity that brought Blue Velvet (1986) or Wild At Heart (1990) to critical and commercial success; I’ve no way of knowing whether or not A Desert might eventually attract the same reputation, but it’s definitely struck out on a path where angels fear to tread. That much is certain.
Furthermore, A Desert far more about atmosphere than it ever is about the story – what with the hints of otherworldly realms and/or influences but never clear-cut explanations – and the viewer’s ability to kinda/sorta suspend a bit of disbelief and roll with where the ride takes you, so I’m hesitant to really divulge all that much. The focus shifts a bit from character to character – sometimes out of necessity – and, as such, some might even have a bit of trouble following it or may question why a certain scene is even in there. Rest assured, Erkman is taking you somewhere: he’s laid done a specific path to follow. Where the difficulty truly comes is when you reach the final destination, and that’s often too late for you to have done anything about it except react … and react many of you most definitely will. For good. For bad. Such is life.
What I will say is that Erkman’s pacing does leave a great deal to be desired. This isn’t to say that some of it isn’t purposeful because, undoubtedly, the director had a method to his madness in mind. As is customary, anyone watching could take issue with whether or not what emerges is the best cut – I would like to have seen a few scenes trimmed. It’s a slow burn – one of the slowest I’ve seen as of late – and yet it’s still exceedingly well done. You’re not supposed to be perfectly comfortable with it, and that definitely shows in just the right spots.
A Desert (2024) was produced by Capes And Fogs and Yellow Veil Pictures. A quick Google.com search indicates that, presently, the film is available theatrical in select locations. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still attest to the fact that this is an extremely well-assembled flick: Erkman knows how to encapsulate an ambiance, and it’ll be grand to watch this storyteller grow. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? As I viewed this one via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
Recommended, but …
A Desert (2024) will likely split audiences – especially with its kinda/sorta cop-out ending – over its unwillingness to answer even a modest number of questions its mildly labyrinthian plot raises. While I think the right crowd (film festivals, mystery aficionados, and academics) will embrace its ambiguity, mainstream viewers might take issue to being dropped squarely in the middle of the ‘where can you possibly go next’ evasiveness. Let’s just say that film – like life – likely won’t come tied up with a bow and leave it at that. Good performances and a killer neo-noir vibe makes this one definitely worth seeing despite its occasionally laconic pacing.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that fine folks at Dark Sky Films provided me with complimentary streaming access to A Desert (2024) 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
What I will say is that Erkman’s pacing does leave a great deal to be desired. This isn’t to say that some of it isn’t purposeful because, undoubtedly, the director had a method to his madness in mind. As is customary, anyone watching could take issue with whether or not what emerges is the best cut – I would like to have seen a few scenes trimmed. It’s a slow burn – one of the slowest I’ve seen as of late – and yet it’s still exceedingly well done. You’re not supposed to be perfectly comfortable with it, and that definitely shows in just the right spots.
A Desert (2024) was produced by Capes And Fogs and Yellow Veil Pictures. A quick Google.com search indicates that, presently, the film is available theatrical in select locations. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can still attest to the fact that this is an extremely well-assembled flick: Erkman knows how to encapsulate an ambiance, and it’ll be grand to watch this storyteller grow. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? As I viewed this one via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
Recommended, but …
A Desert (2024) will likely split audiences – especially with its kinda/sorta cop-out ending – over its unwillingness to answer even a modest number of questions its mildly labyrinthian plot raises. While I think the right crowd (film festivals, mystery aficionados, and academics) will embrace its ambiguity, mainstream viewers might take issue to being dropped squarely in the middle of the ‘where can you possibly go next’ evasiveness. Let’s just say that film – like life – likely won’t come tied up with a bow and leave it at that. Good performances and a killer neo-noir vibe makes this one definitely worth seeing despite its occasionally laconic pacing.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that fine folks at Dark Sky Films provided me with complimentary streaming access to A Desert (2024) 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