Good afternoon, gentle readers, and welcome to yet another Hump Day in the new year of 2024!

How's everyone's day shaping up so far?  Mine is pretty solid, to be perfectly honest.  Got up early.  Did some stretching to loosen up a bad back.  Had to go to school and work with some high school kiddies with their material.  Now I'm back at the blog puttering away on the greatest corner of the Information Superhighway ever conceived.

So ... how are you?

​Doing a quick rundown on the day, I do see a few items worth a bit of extra attention, and I'll mention them below.  But that should never stop folks from taking a look at the whole enchilada (sp?), you know?  Please, please, and please always make sure to check out the full detail at the provided link because I can only draw attention to those citations that are of interest to me.  (Yes, I hear those of you who wonder why I haven't highlighted your favorites, and I'm trying to be respectful and considerate.)  So check them out, and always feel free to share them far and wide with your family and friends because I do this for all of you.

Okay?
​

Ernest Borgnine -- believe it or not -- built an incredible career in the realms of the Fantastic.  While he may not be exactly one's first choice when it comes to genre favorites, a quick rundown of his resume ensures that his work should definitely be a cause for celebration for fans of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror.

Not convinced?

Take a gander:

​All the way back at the beginning of his career, the actor enjoyed a twelve-episode run as a supporting player for Captain Video And His Video Rangers.

From there, the man enjoyed appearances as part of an incredible, incredible assortment of intellectual properties, including Get Smart, Willard (1971), The Neptune Factor (1973), The Devil's Rain (1975), Future Cop, The Ghost Of Flight 401 (1978), Ravagers (1979), The Black Hole (1979), Super Fuzz (1980), Escape From New York (1981), Deadly Blessing (1981), Airwolf, Treasure Island In Space, Laser Mission (1989), Merlin's Shop Of Mystical Wonders (1996), Gattaca (1997), Small Soldiers (1998), Mel (1998), Early Edition, Touched By An Angel, and The Blue Light (2004).

That, my friends, is quite a track record.

Happy birthday, Mr. Borgnine ... wherever your spirit may reside.
​

As par for the course, there's a lot more to love for today, and you're encouraged to head on over and check it out.  Here's the link ...

As always, thank you for reading ... thank you for sharing ... thank you for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!

​-- EZ

Ach.  My heart hurts right now, folks, and there are days that I just hate checking the news.

I'm aghast to learn that long-time genre favorite Gary Graham has passed, apparently from a heart attack.

To me, Graham always seemed like this blue-collar fellow with an amazing talent to craft interesting characters and thus found his way into the world of the entertainment business.  Initially coming onto the scene in small roles, it didn't take long for those in charge to recognize that he was capable of much, much more; and he started receiving offers requiring far more screen time, deservedly so.  While he may have trafficked a bit outside the worlds of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror, I think it's safe to say that he definitely had a home inside the realms of the Fantastic; and fans embraced whatever work the Thespian was able to send our way.

Just take a gander at his resume, and you'll see what I mean.  TV's The Incredible Hulk, 1989's Robot Jox, TV's Alien Nation, a handful of episodes as part of TV's M.A.N.T.I.S. superhero series, and -- of course -- Star Trek: Enterprise are just a small part of the legacy his career leaves for us to enjoy ... and here's hoping folks do continue to sing the man's praises well into the years ahead.

Our warmest thoughts and prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Gary Graham.

May he rest in peace.

​-- EZ

Apologies, folks: I meant to get this announcement up yesterday, but it completely slipped my mind.

1975's Rollerball was a film that a good many folks had recommended to me.  I hadn't seen it, and -- though I was aware of it -- I recall reading some critical blurbs about it at that time that weren't exactly favorable.  As can happen in films shot, say, a decade or two before some critic or historian discovers it, there were a scene or a sequence or two that were dated to some degree, so much so that viewed later they might seem wildly out of context (or something).  So I'm pretty certain I know the footage that left this curious mark on this curious critic, and -- sure -- I was inclined to agree once I sat down and screened the film on VHS (ask your parents, kids) when I did.  Setting aside that little vignette, it's easy to see why the Norman Jewison effort was as highly regarded back then and remains a story of some importance even today.

As for the rest of Jewison's career?

Well, I think it's safe to say that he wasn't a genre auteur in any stretch of the imagination.  It's pretty clear that he was more concerned with conventional settings and circumstances even though there might be a picture or two that wandered a little bit outside the lines.  His 1967 film In The Heat Of The Night confronts racism head-on in the heart of the Deep South, and -- even though it is about as far from genre entertainment as one can get -- it's one of my personal favorites.  He made a few other like-minded, socially-conscious pictures after that -- and I see a few musicals in there -- but Rollerball stands out as a curious exception to his normal body of work (so far as I'm seeing things).  Maybe that reason alone is enough for readers of SciFiHistory.Net to sit down and watch it, as I think a viewing is long past due for those of you who haven't had the pleasure.

Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Mr. Jewison.

May he forever rest in peace.

​-- EZ

Under SciFiHistory.Net’s ‘Monsters Of A Sort’ category heading, I take a look at features that kinda/sorta dabble into sensibilities very close to (if not downright demonstrative of) Film Noir and/or the unconventional screen mystery.  Despite maintaining a heavy (and near constant) diet of genre projects, I’m not always satiated by just SciFi, Fantasy, and Horror; so I do like – from time-to-time – to add a little substance from these other realms.  It helps to widen my perspective.  It helps to cleanse the palate.  It keeps me fresh … and a ‘fresh me’ is good for all of you, my faithful readers.
 
Today’s distraction: a solid boxing drama titled – believe it or not – Iron Man (1951).
 
According to IMDB.com, the film was directed by renowned noir director Joseph Pevney, whom genre fans might also know from his work on Destination Space (1959), Bewitched, The Munsters, Mission Impossible, Star Trek (he directed 14 episodes including “Arena,” “The City On The Edge Of Forever,” “Amok Time,” and “The Trouble With Tribbles”), and The Incredible Hulk.  Screenwriters Borden Chase and George Zuckerman adapted the W.R. Burnett novel for the big screen; and the feature starred Jeff Chandler, Evelyn Keyes, Stephen McNally, Rock Hudson, and Joyce Holden in prominent roles.
 
As per my usual format, the film’s synopsis appears below.  My two cents on its construction follow.
 
(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 ambitious coal miner is talked into becoming a boxer by his gambler brother.”
 
As a contemporary reviewer, I occasionally struggle with finding modern references to employ that I feel might give today’s readers a greater likelihood to relate to these older releases.  This isn’t to suggest that earlier flicks cannot or do not stand on their own because nothing could be further from the truth.  In my years writing about classic pictures, I’ve simply found it’s often easier to muster up interest from today’s readership by giving them an applicable comparison.  Thankfully, Iron Man has a rather obvious one.
 
Imagine trying to retool the greater film saga of Rocky Balboa – that singular effort of Hollywood heavyweight Sylvester Stallone – but instead of having the Italian Stallion portrayed as the underdog – the serial’s hero – he was the enemy of the crowd.  Imagine he was the source of constant booing and hissing from those populating the arena and that there seemed nothing he could do to sway the collective opinion of him from the dark to the light.  Lastly, imagine that it wasn’t until his last big bout – one wherein he found himself gloves-to-gloves with a lifelong pal – that Rocky found a shot not for the title but at soul-stirring redemption.
 
If you can imagine such a thing, then you’d have – thematically – the full arc of Iron Man.
 
Coke Mason (played by Jeff Chandler) was a bit of a hometown lug who never had a cross word or a stink eye for any of his neighbors.  Toiling away in Coaltown’s premiere industry – what else but coal? – he pretty much stuck to himself, passing the time over lunch or breaks with his face pressed into the pages of science books.  But a casual dust-up with fellow miner Alex Mallick (James Arness) gets blown out of proportion, pitting the two against one another inside the boxing ring of the local sports club.  When his deepest frustrations get unwittingly unlocked in the ring, Mason goes a bit mad, easily besting the town bully in a dramatic turn of events.  In fact, Mason’s so good at fighting somewhat dirty that his brother George (Stephen McNally) decides that their future is in the ring, and Coke – the big, loveable lug – can’t help but go along for the ride.
 
What develops over Iron Man’s 82-minute running time is the saga of a lesser Balboa.
​

Never the crowd favorite nor the darling of the sports media, Coke inevitably realizes that it’s him against the world; and he succumbs to the life of a man who’ll stop at nothing to get his shot at the boxing title.  There’s a loss or two along the way – including a surprisingly double cross dealt behind-the-scenes by George and Coke’s hometown gal pal Rose (Evelyn Keyes) – but it’s pretty clear that the man has sacrificed everything that made him an admirable townie in pursuit of the big time.  But a change of heart comes over him when he goes toe-to-toe against Tommy O’Keefe (Rock Hudson), a somewhat simple-minded sparring partner who worshipped at the Mason altar for so long before turning pro.  At this point, Coke ignores his worst impulses, and he trades blows honestly in fifteen rounds that might just be the capper to an otherwise controversial career.
 
Though Iron Man is advertised as a film noir (and I’ve no doubt it probably fits well within the conventional definition of the sub-genre), I found it far too wholesome in a lot of ways to stand on the shelves against the usual darker fare.  Oh, there are moments wherein the script pushes toward ideas and elements normally embraced by noirish tales, but Chandler all-too-often – along with Hudson as his training chum – imbues Mason with a kinda/sorta ‘gee shucks’ mentality, never quite achieving the level of seriousness a true dark journey of discover needs.  Actress Keyes provides an on-again off-again narrator’s voice to the entire picture; and she, too, softens the material to the point of it occasionally feeling like Coke’s ‘killer instinct’ is just misguided angst that’ll ultimately work itself out (or make them rich enough in the process to forget about it).  Humility does win out in the last reel – a conclusion that also defies the usual noir conventions – and everyone involved exits with a ‘happily ever after’ vibe that muddies the water and cheapens the far better dark side of professional sports.
 
All-in-all, Iron Man surprisingly stays on track once Coke embraces whatever there was in his heart that made him a villain.  Sure, his turn back to goodness and grace is a nice touch, but is all truly forgotten?  A lotta eyes were blackened on this rise to the top.  A lotta blows found paydirt in the bellies of what might’ve been a better man.  The salvation of the last bout feels a bit too formulaic in spots, and it would’ve been more authentic had the boxer faced a greater struggle or delivered some great speech before stepping into the ring for what looked like his last fight.  His epiphany – what little there is – winds up tasting of saccharin, if you ask me, but everyone hitting their marks well enough makes it easy to forgive a conventional finish.
 
Iron Man (1951) was produced by Universal International Pictures (UI).  DVD distribution (for this particular release has been coordinated by the fine folks at Kino Lorber.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to what’s been reported as an all-new 2K remastering of the 35mm fine grain to be pretty darn exceptional; there’s a bit of grain in the cross fades that I notice (and have read is pretty common), but otherwise that’s about it.  As for the special features?  The disc boasts one: an audio commentary from film historian Gary Gerani.
 
Highly recommended.
 
Sometimes a bit vague on character specifics and sometimes a bit too sugary (owed to the era), Iron Man adheres close enough to its formula to make for an acceptable sport-minded melodrama.  Chandler never gets enough words in to elevate him to the point wherein audiences fully understand what’s going on in that battered head of his; and yet there’s a pleasantness to all of this that makes for an easy viewing.  Those going in expecting something dark and sinister because it’s billed as Film Noir might come away with some disappointment; but … as sports films go from the bygone era?  This one kept my interest well enough between the big matches, making it a modest contender.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Iron Man (1951) – as part of their Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema Collection, Volume XVI – 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

Good morning, gentle readers, and welcome to Tuesday, January 24th!  Here's hoping you're up and at 'em today as mankind needs whatever you're going to add to the party in order to thrive!

Ahhhh ... well me?  I just got up from a power nap.  I had one of those nights where I just couldn't sleep.  You ever have one of those?  For whatever reason, you just keep waking up and waking up and waking up.  I tried trying to find a more comfortable position, and that didn't help.  I tried listening to white noise for some time, and that didn't help.  I ended up just staying awake for so long that I needed a bit extra, so I'm better now ... even refreshed, I'd say.

But enough about me ... how are all of you this morning?

I've built a short stack of flicks I'm needing to pen reviews for, and I'll be working on that later today.  One is a Science Fiction Comedy, and the other two are film noirs I received as part of a set.  It's an interesting assortment that gave me something to think about, but sadly there wasn't a home run in the bunch.  Doesn't mean they're not worth seeing; these just aren't ... well ... magical, the way a really solid story swings and hits from the plate.  Regardless, watch this space over the next few days, and you'll see what I mean.
​

Oh, sweet Mother of Dragons, I can't begin to tell you the grief I've had to endure over the years for admitting for ... ahem ... Stargate: SG-1 just wasn't a show for me.

Now, now, now: hear me out, people.

I absolutely loved the ensemble, as well as their stable of capable back-up players.  Stargate: SG-1 was one of the better produced sagas in all of genre entertainment.  My issue with it was just that it never quite meant anything to me on a personal level.  Some of its stories were quite good, but I honestly found a lot of blandness to a good deal of what I've seen (about three seasons of it).  This just happens from time-to-time -- fandom will embrace a show wholeheartedly, so I'll watch it and go 'meh' -- so don't take it personally.  Each of us are entitled to our own opinions, and my disinterest with it has absolutely nothing to do with its quality.  In ways, I felt like I'd seen a lot of it before, so it lacked a measure of freshness I need in new adventures.

But ... Richard Dean Anderson?  What a solid leader for the crew, and it was great to see him headline a SciFi/Fantasy show the way he did.  Fabulous work, and his ongoing contributions to the whole Stargate Universe of shows is to be commended.

(I know, I know, I know ... I never quite got into MacGyver, but that's another whole issue.)

Happy birthday, Mr. Anderson, and here's to many, many more!
​

Speaking of birthdays, the great Gil Gerard -- better known as TV's Buck Rogers himself -- turns another year older and another year wiser today.

For better or for worse, Buck Rogers In The 25th Century was appointment television in the years of my youth.  Sadly, I couldn't quite say why -- well, other than the obvious, it being SciFi -- because so many of its first season episodes were the stuff of reasonably high camp and corn (things I vehemently hate).  I suppose it's probably because  there really wasn't anything else like it around the dial at the time, and Gerard was such a good sport of making all of it work.  He had a swagger not unlike Star Trek's Captain Kirk, and he definitely had a thing for the space ladies ... also like Capt. Kirk.

Yes, I know, I know, I know (what is it with you complainers today?): it's second season was a bit of an embarassment of riches to those who watched it ... but you know what?  I actually liked a few of those adventures precisely because they were a change of pace from the goofiness of the first season.  Clearly, they tried to adopt a more serious tone, and they added a few faces to the cast that could've used more screen time for audiences to like them.  I guess it just wasn't meant to be, and Buck disappeared into the distant reaches of space almost in the same way he appeared out of them in the pilot telefilm.

Happy birthday, Mr. Gerard!  You're a true veteran space hero regardless!
​

That's all I have for now, faithful readers, but that doesn't mean that there won't be more later today.  As I said above, I'm toiling away on a few items, so keep your eyes peeled as I may just have some other new content in the hours ahead.

Here's what you're really looking for ...

As always, thanks for reading ... thanks for sharing ... thanks for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!

​-- EZ

I’ve often said that I enjoy watching older films – flicks from the near and bygone eras – because it’s very clear that a great many of those storytellers were far more interested with their ideas than they were foisting some political ideology onto audiences.
 
In short, there used to be a greater emphasis on story.  Characters would come together – often times under a single roof or just a few of them – and then there would be this catalyst for the drama to develop.  Much ado would be made about these events – this, after all, was what brought these people together so that we could watch them succeed or suffer – and it would all be tied up in some understandable big finish.  We didn’t have to like it, but rarely did the efforts make us feel unimportant if we merely didn’t like the flick … rarely did it make us feel inferior because these same folks knew they’d want us back in the theaters next week or next month … and rarely did one’s political affiliation factor even in the smallest way into the equation.  You want a story?  Here’s one.  Like it or not, this is what you get.
 
Still, this doesn’t excuse the veritable cavalcade of – ahem – bad films that were churned out in the process.  As far as genre entries go, the great Mystery Science Theater 3000 showed us that we could still come together to lampoon some of this stale fodder; and I suspect such a treatment would be warranted for The Devil’s Partner (1960), an underwhelming yet spooky attempt at delivering a supernatural-tinged concoction for the cineplexes of the past.  Directed by Charles R. Rondeau from a story by Stanley Clements and Laura Jean Mathews (FYI: the only screen credit for both), Partner cast Edgar Buchanan, Jean Allison, Richard Crane, Specser Carlisle, and Byron Foulger in key roles in a story about one man’s pact with the Devil and his attempts to enjoy a newly-acquired youth in the arms of the town sweetheart … no matter how many lives he must sacrifice in the process.
 
Mayberry this ain’t, my friends.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An old man sells his soul to the devil and turns into a young man.  He then uses witchcraft and black magic to win a woman from his rival.”
 
With some older films, it’s honestly best not to make too much of them.  Because they were crafted in simpler times – with simply effects work along with maybe some mildly dated influences – they were likely made far more for making a buck than they were in inspiring others for social change; and this is likely the case with the somewhat uninspired The Devil’s Partner.
 
Old man Pete Jensen lived a life that made few friends in Furnace Flats, New Mexico.  In the opening of the picture, he’s shown slaughtering a goat in basically the living room of his one or two-room shack, only for audiences to watch in abject horror (meh, not so much) as a dark arm reaches in from off-screen in the attempt to join forces with old timer for only God (or Satan) knows.  It isn’t long before Jensen’s adult nephew Nick Richards (played by Ed Nelson) shows up in town not only to close out the affairs of his deceased relative but also set up residence and maybe – just maybe – convince the perfectly fetching Nell Lucas (Jean Allison) to abandon her fiancé David Simpson (Richard Crane) and take up conjugal relations with him instead.
 
What viewers eventually come to learn is that angry ol’ Pete has apparently found his very own ‘fountain of youth:’ by making a pact with the grand master of the underworld himself Satan, Jensen reclaims his youth but concocts the identity of a distant nephew – Nick – in order to belay any suspicions surrounding his return.  Now imbued with youth, vigor, and a healthy dose of witchcraft, he’s set his sights on a new life, this one with Nell at his side.
​

So, basically, Partner is little more than a traditional melodramatic potboiler which incorporates some supernatural skullduggery to make it all palatable.  While the flick could have benefitted from a bit of steam suggested between Nick and Nell, this script sticks very close to 1950 and 1960’s moral sensibilities, providing us no greater demonstration that perhaps these two are anything greater than platonic townies.  Sadly, even all of the spell craft is accomplished with very little effects work so those showing up hoping for a bit more should truly expect far less.  No solid attempts were made to give this anything other than a single-pass construction captured in-camera in what was likely a very quick shoot.
 
Sadly, the script never even gives any single player a scene or two of substance.  What with the suggestion of controversy, a rational thinker might anticipate a sequence of shouting or disagreement; and yet it’s only a spectrally influenced dog attack that gets the blood flowing (yes, pun intended).  Richards tries to muster up some Machiavellian ploy by using a few folks to achieve his dark ends, but even those get brushed over without any greater context much less discussion.  The small cast all show up and hit their respective marks, no one actor or actress ever trying to eek out a bit of subtext to any suggestion of wider tension.  The late Edgar Buchanan gets a few scenes as the town doctor who ends up calling the shots – heck, even the town sheriff pretty much answers to him, it would seem – making this 73-minute feel like it was longer than needed and more than desired in its final reel.
 
This isn’t to suggest in any way that being a product of its era kept Partner from being as impactful as it could have been.  Features like 1955’s East Of Eden or even 1958’s Cat On A Hot Tin Roof effectively pulled the Hollywood veneer off of the ‘Great American Family,’ and 1957’s Peyton Place is highly regarded for suggesting that small town life might conceal a great many activities we culturally would rather ignore.  Coming on the heels of such cinematic triumphs, Partner could very easily have pushed the emotional envelope further than it tried – even with its mystic backdrop of sacrifice and Satanic ritual – and achieved solid results.  The problem here is that … well … nothing was ventured so nothing was gained, and the resulting film serves more as a testimony to cheap storytelling than anything culturally or socially relevant.
 
The Devil’s Partner (1960) was produced by Huron Productions, Inc.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Film Masters.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the provided sights-and-sounds to what’s reported as an all-new 4K restoration from original 35mm archival elements to be mostly solid.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  The disc boasts two video presentations (16:9 or 4:3), an audio commentary, some supporting documentary features, and a recut trailer for this new transfer.  The packaging also includes some companion essays regarding this and a second feature provided with the set.
 
Alas … this one’s only mildly recommended.
 
Wow.  What a stunningly wasted opportunity for what could’ve been, minimally, a genre entry into the growing film industry of the small-town melodrama.  The Devil’s Partner squanders a clever idea with so much banal delivery.  Heck, even a mildly talented community theatre cast could’ve done more if they had only been tempted with a stronger script.  This one winds up feeling half-baked even though it didn’t need to turn out that way on screens big or small.  A bit more time and a bit more effort could’ve had this one being a contender for fan attention … but as it stands it all feels a bit more misguided than anything else.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Masters provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Devil’s Partner 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 goes without saying that the emergence and expansion of Special Effects in film has pushed the door wide open for storytellers looking to craft worlds rarely if ever seen before.
 
A great deal of credit for such reliance on effects works gets attributed back to George Lucas’ Star Wars (1977), and why not?  Catapulting audiences to a galaxy far, far away had rarely looked so keen and inviting as it did in that landmark space saga.  Naturally, the flick inspired others to follow in those footsteps, and – only a handful of years later – viewers had been supplied with the people, places, and things only previously possible in the pages of a comic book or graphic novel.  In fact, it really wasn’t all that long before effects work started showing up in more conventional fare where the change of a city landscape or the catastrophic wreck of automobiles or the power of a Category 5 tornado was needed to ‘sell the sizzle’ of a dramatic sequence.  Audiences appreciate a spectacle, so why not push the envelope as far as was technologically possible?
 
However, there have been some who have warned that this increase of augmenting images in post-production might inevitably cheapen stories to the point wherein it was no longer required to render human stories on film when they could be – as it’s often said – “fixed in post” (meaning post-production).  Simply put, there’s no amount of visual trickery that can elevate an otherwise authentically dull story, but that’s never stopped Hollywood and others from trying.  To a degree, that’s what I sensed with 2018’s Mute, a futuristic neo-noir from writer/director Duncan Jones that never quite makes sense the way I suspect those behind-the-scenes thought it could, would, or should.  There’s a curious reliance on effects that, quite frankly, didn’t need to be there as the breadth of its ‘land of tomorrow’ aspect winds up being more confusing than supportive. 
 
In its place remains a human undercurrent that feels as manufactured as do many of its visuals, thus cheapening the experience that should’ve been vastly superior than the sum of its parts.
 
(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 mute bartender goes up against his city’s gangsters in an effort to find out what happened to his missing partner.”
​

On the whole, I’m a huge fan of effects work.  Yet, when I see so much of it as curiously underwhelming as was what was brought and paid for in Mute I’ll always push back.  Succinctly put, if all you can afford are some mildly cartoonish inserts here and there, then perhaps the entire picture should’ve been rendered in CGI?  There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that – indeed, it’s grand enough for Saturday morning kids programming – and maybe – with some trimming here and there – the resulting cut of this story might’ve built a cult audience.  But … in this package?  Yeah.  Color me a bit cynical.
 
Director Jones literally packed Mute to the gills with far too many ideas for viewers to make the level of sense required with a single viewing.  There’s an overabundance to every aspect of this – all of it made more curious by the obvious fact that our lead character is Amish – and a bit of streamlining might’ve served everyone involved to a good degree.  I’ve read that this was a long-gestating story he was thrilled to finally bring to life, but there are pieces of it that just make so little sense.  Besides operating on a shorthand as to when and where this particular future is, the film jumbles its politics in ways that don’t quite make for smooth sailing.  At times, it’s decidedly anti-American without clearly spelling out what the big beef is with the United States, and I can’t help but wonder if it needed a few more years ‘gestating’ in order for the perfect incarnation of this plot to rise in the cinematic oven.
 
As a young boy, Leo (played by Alexander Skarsgård) was involved in a gruesome boating accident that robbed him of his ability to speak.  While this disadvantage might’ve sidelined others into a life of misery, Leo grew up and, eventually, left the farm in favor of life in the big city (though we’ve never told why).  He exists still clinging to his humble ways – a simple apartment, simple inelegant clothes, an almost miserly existence – and has found employment in a posh nightclub as a bartender.  He’s even found love in the arms of Naadirah (Seyneb Saleh), but it’s her sudden disappearance that throws him into disarray.  He’ll stop at nothing to find what happened to her, even at the risk of his own safety when crossing paths with some of the big city’s unsavory types becomes necessary to get to the bottom of it all.
 
With neo-noirs, it’s also safe to suggest that audiences have quite possibly seen this story before.
 
The disappearance of one’s loved ones has fueled a great many films, so this construct truly needed something extra to deliver the necessary freshness.  Sadly, this is where Jones hugely misses the mark, perhaps hoping to simply distract his audience with a world that occasionally seems similar to, say, 1982’s Blade Runner, 1988’s Akira, or 2002’s Minority Report.  While those environments were tied thematically to their respective subject matter, Mute lacks such direct association to the land of tomorrow, instead using it as a backdrop for what central story could honestly have been told today or even a few decades ago.  Having little to no intrinsic need for this to be futuristic – except for the purposes of utilizing the gadgetry – hollows out the thematic core much in the same way having a character robbed of speech kinda/sorta guts that person, requiring them to find alternative methods to communicating their needs, wants, and desires.  As much care that went into crafted Skarsgård’s performance was needed with everything else in here … and that just never happens.
​

And … funnyman Paul Rudd?
 
As your villain?
 
Look: I’m not one to pick on poor casting decisions.  Not every Thespian is up to every challenge of every role ever caught on film.  In fact, I’ve often argued that hiring comedians and/or comic actors in dramatic roles is a bit of inspired genius here and there because it gives the talent and the audiences an opportunity to see and experience moments from a vastly different perspective.  However, Rudd – as the curiously named Cactus Bill – never quite fills the shoes of this bad-ass character here – an AWOL American soldier who’ll stop at nothing to get back home (again, why?, cause America’s so bad, I thought) – and his work here feels … erm … wildly uncentered and formulaic.  He cares deeply for his daughter but not so much to keep her away from the city’s underbelly.  Why not?  He wants nothing more than to leave this life behind and yet continues to invest in the same behaviors and choices that made this life his normalcy.  Why not?  But when your shoulders aren’t up to the weight necessary to elevate the motion picture, then you’re just wrong for the part.  It’s honestly that simple.
 
This lack of cohesiveness pervades every single frame of Mute to the point of perhaps confusing viewers about the storyteller’s honest intentions rather than illuminating the brilliance of such choices.  Clearly, Leo’s affinity to water – despite having been maimed in it – lies at the heart of what Jones wanted to say about the man; and yet I’ve absolutely no idea of what I’m supposed to make of all those scenes.  Subtle hints about a man’s nefariousness arguably needed to be a bit more obvious; and maybe then audiences would’ve felt a greater attachment or repulsion when presented.  The lack of definitiveness – all spared in favor of some pretty visuals – kills any momentum the film occasionally develops.
 
Mute (2018) was produced by Liberty Films Entertainment and Studio Babelsberg.  The film is presently available via streaming on Netflix.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found a great deal of the provided sights-and-sounds to be very good; however – as I’ve mentioned above – the special effects sequences are of widely varying quality, so much so that several of them appear more than a bit cartoonish and thus distracting to the overall affair.  A bit of a misfire, if you ask me.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  As I viewed this on Netflix, there were no special features under consideration.
 
Alas … only mildly recommended.
 
Mute (2018) is the kind of experience that might remind viewers of the vastly greater attempts out there made at Future Noir (compliments to the worlds of James Cameron for creating that sub-genre of Science Fiction).  Its greatest problem is that it never effectively does anything with those elements, however, instead throwing them in because they look good and constantly serve to remind us that this is another time and another place … when we’ve already been here before.  Some effects sequences are even, sadly, wackily underproduced, giving the film an occasionally amateurish quality that also spoils the mood.  Maybe if all of this had been done in CGI it might’ve had a greater chance, but … as is?  Well, as is it’s a mess.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for this review of Mute (2018) as it’s a film I watched on Netflix via my own subscription to the streaming platform.

​-- EZ

Good morning, gentle readers, and welcome to the start of a brand-new week!  Here's hoping that your weekend was delightful, and it gave you the proper rejuvenation required to give you the energy you need to combat this brand-new week of challenges!  I know mine was pretty good, and speaking of which ...
​

I don't often put up photos of me and the wifey, but here's one from this past Saturday.  The local small airport had an event they called 'Airport Dayz,' and it's been quite a few years since they had one.  Years back, the organizer would have all of these old-time and experimental aircraft lined up around the field/tarmack/etc., and they'd open the doors for members of the general public to come in and check them out.  Well, from what we now understand, I think it was the event organizer passed away ... and then COVID came along, changing the way we could go out and about in public ... but now the city finally found a way to have one again.  I took some snaps of the planes and whatnot, but the wifey and I did a selfie in front of one of the cooler helicopters on the field.  It wasn't as big or as elaborate as it's been in the past, but it was still a great morning to walk amongst these birds and hear some stories.

If I find the time, I'll post a few of my pics.  Gotta find the time, though.  Still playing catch-up on some reviews from last week.
​

I know, I know, I know.  That contingent of you who love to tell me (of all people) what is and isn't Science Fiction are likely boiling over in your seats this morning as I'm posting the birthday of one of my favorite shows of the bygone era -- CBS's Airwolf -- for posterity's sake.

I can hear you: "That's not Science Fiction!"

Well, when you have the stones to go and set-up your own SciFi, Fantasy, and Horror blog, then you can do what you want with it.  Me?  I tend to have a broader appreciation of genre entertainment as a whole, and Airwolf certainly fits within the parameters that I've established.  Any exploration of a high-tech experimental aircraft deserves a bit of coverage in this space -- so far as I care -- and you can just like it or lump it, as they say.

I'll give you that the show was imperfect.  It's difficult to craft stories that truly push the bar technologically on a weekly basis -- what with the budgetary constraints of broadcast TV -- but creator Donald Bellisario did what he could in the time and place.  Airwolf had some wonderful action brought to life with a fabulous cast -- the late Jan-Michael Vincent and Ernest Borgnine joined consistently by the great Alex Cord -- and it was appointment viewing for a great portion of its run on the Boob Tube for yours truly.
​

Of course, I'm showing my age a bit with this post this morning, especially as it comes to 1970's and 1980's intellectual properties ... and still I have to give a proper shout to the late Bill Bixby.

For those of you who don't know it, Bixby headlined one of the greatest genre shows to hit the airwaves: on a weekly basis, The Incredible Hulk went about trying to dispense a brand of TV-grade justice when regular methods failed to deliver.  Yes, you didn't want to make him mad -- you wouldn't like him when he got mad -- but -- sigh -- it happened routinely, turning audiences green with envy.  (See what I did there?)  I guess it's safe to say Gamma Radiation somehow stood on the right side of history; but it was Bixby's endearing humanity that gave so much of the serialized Hulk its true muscles, showing audiences that caring for one's fellow men, women, and children was a worthwhile occupation.  Maybe it's best that you think of him as Jack Reacher -- wandering the great American plateau -- but well before Reacher was in the same business.

It's a fabulous show that pretty much set the bar about as high as you can go for TV-grade comic book adaptations; and its respect endures even to this day.

Check it out, if you're so inclined.

​Happy birthday, Mr. Bixby ... wherever you may be in the great cosmos out there.
​

Of course, there's more.  There may be not as much as I'd like more up there for the day, but rest assured that I'm always doing my due diligence to add items to the site.  If you know of any regarding today, please reach out and let me know.  I have quite a bit in my archives -- and I'll be posting some newbies this afternoon -- but I'm always on-the-lookout for late-breaking additions.

​Here's what you want, and you know you want it ...

As always, thanks for reading ... thanks for sharing ... thanks for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!

​-- EZ

In the mid-1980’s, there was a glorious B-Movie unleashed upon unsuspecting audiences, and it went by the name of Chopping Mall.
 
Written and directed by genre auteur Jim Wynorski, Chopping Mall took the location of what was fastly becoming the ultimate place-to-be for young’uns of a certain generation – namely, the great American indoor shopping mall – and recaptured it as a hunting ground for some bloodthirsty technology gone awry.  Essentially, some automated mall security guards – not unlike a tank/robot hybrids – were short-circuited by a lightning strike, and they go on a campaign to wipe the stores clean of some sexually-charged teenagers who stayed indoors after closing time.  Though the body count was reasonably limited, the film still made paste of these anti-Authority figures.  Perhaps its single greatest asset was giving starlets Barbara Crampton and Kelli Maroney the chance to share the screen, and the flick – I’m told – retains a cult audience even to this day.
 
So the idea of sentient robots wreaking havoc with various meat puppets isn’t exactly anything fresh or new, but that never stopped a storyteller from giving it another whirl.  2024’s Project Dorothy does just that.  Written (in part) and directed by George Henry Horton, Dorothy opens its hunting season in the confines of an expansive abandoned factor where years before something robotic went horribly awry: a central Artificial Intelligence rose up with the intention of overthrowing the human race, only to have been shut down somehow before taking our planet.  But when two bank robbers on the run seek shelter inside, one of them inadvertently reactivates the program, putting them at odds with a cybernetic aggressor who won’t go silently into the night this time.
 
What’s more dangerous?  Skynet?  Or the dude who accidentally turned it back on after it lay dormant for so many years?
 
You decide.
 
(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 a botched robbery, two men take refuge in a remote and lifeless scientific facility, inadvertently awakening a monster within.”
 
Because I can appreciate any number of ‘naughty A.I.’ stories, I was willing to give Project Dorothy a fair screening.  It didn’t exactly look like it was going to be anything inventive with the whole ‘machines gone bad’ formula, and it’s safe to say that nothing necessarily groundbreaking was achieved in its 75-minute running time.  Sadly, it doesn’t use its resources perhaps as effectively as it could have, and the end result is the picture feels like somewhere inside its bloat there’s actually a very effective short film that vastly better than the long version.
 
James (played by Tim DeZarn) and Blake (Adam Budron) are ‘on the lam’ from what appears to have been a bank job gone wrong.  Hiking across backroads and cornfields, they ultimately stumble upon a massive industrial complex that appears to have been abandoned some time ago.  Breaking inside, they do find shelter; but they also begin to suspect that they’re being watched by a force they’ve never encountered before … a sentient program named Dorothy that’s been asleep for a few decades.  Now that it’s awake and realizes there’s a whole new world out there that can be infected via WiFi, Dorothy will stop at nothing to secure the stolen laptop in their possession so that she can unleash her darkest desires on the world-at-large.
 
Well …
​
The biggest flaw to the script from Horton and Ryan Scaringe is that we, the audience, are never quite let on as to what Dorothy’s deepest and darkest desires for the human race might be.  While revenge for having been ‘terminated’ years ago might be the obvious course of action, the film could’ve benefitted from a grander game plan, one that spelled out perfectly where such a threat could’ve taken us.  Instead, the premise unspools a bit too predictably and stereotypically for a genre that’s made endless explorations into A.I. gone cray-cray; and, yes, this winds up cheapening the whole technological affair, primitive though its packaging may be.
​

Furthermore, Horton’s film gets understandably shackled with many of the same pitfalls that attach themselves to non-studio efforts.
 
Whereas Chopping Mall’s biggest asset were these fanciful robots that went about their campaign of carnage, all the budget could afford here were some rather limiting forklifts (aka tow motors) that never look all that threatening and, frankly, aren’t all that fast, all that flexible, and all that frightening.  (FYI: in case you’ve never been around one, they’re very heavy – have to be in order to accomplish what they do – so their mobility is small in scope.)  While the production makes good use of its abandoned facility’s office, expansive caverns, corridors and what have you, none of it either feels all that fearsome – not in the way that James Cameron’s The Terminator (1984) exoskeleton could terrify audiences – so viewers aren’t chilled as vicariously through the lives of these characters as they could’ve been.
 
Despite having the requisite leanness that could’ve made this thriller work on, at least, some visceral level, Dorothy wastes far too much time in what I suspect were drone-enabled shots of the factory interiors.  It’s almost as if Horton and his crew were trying to inject some life into such mechanized lifelessness, hoping to convince you that there was more to this robotic intelligence than meets the eye, but when there isn’t the audience might feel a bit cheated by so much footage promising more yet delivering less.  Those are creative decisions made entirely in pre-production or whilst everything was in-process; and I’d argue that greater restraint – and a shorter run-time – would’ve made for a better adventure.
 
A tremendous asset was casting screen veteran Tim DeZarn in a rare starring appearance.  His isn’t a household name – Hollywood is a competitive industry, if nothing else – but no doubt his face is the kind film fans might recognize.  (Seriously, he’s been in well over one hundred projects, often times giving a bit of character to an otherwise supporting and/or forgettable bit.)  While the material here might have some inherent weaknesses, DeZarn – with a blue collar attitude – soldiers onward and shows he’s always up to the challenge.  Even without the greater context for why he’d want to save a world that has cruelly and inevitably pushed him into a life of crime, he still musters the ‘hero thing’ and hatches a plot to see that this Dorothy stays on the farm in Kansas, never getting to the fabled Oz or its yellow brick road that she dreams about beyond those doors.  He might be long in the tooth, but he’s definitely got the chops to make this work, and he does even when it all feels a bit … well … loopy.
 
Also, Project Dorothy opens with a very interesting vision, following up some scenes of mechanized activity with nothing more than a veritable wall of growing corn.  The juxtaposition of what man has made – the machines that might destroy them – versus what the Earth has provided – crops to feed and, thus, give them life – couldn’t be more stark, more obvious, and maybe even more timely.  It’s this sentiment that I think a good deal more of was needed to give Dorothy – as a film – the resonance she needed to transcend the tried-and-true indie project scene and be something more relevant.  The seeds were clearly planted; I just wish what was harvested made for a more fulfilling meal.
 
Project Dorothy (2024) was produced by Kinogo Pictures and Liberty Atlantic Studios.  According to the press materials provided, the film is available (as of January 16, 2024) via streaming and VOD on such platforms as Prime Video, Vudu, Vubiquity, Cox, and Comcast.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I thought that the provided sights-and-sounds were, mostly, very solid quality: sadly, there’s some filler sequences meant to display the A.I.’s activity that gets re-used over and over and over, slowing down what little momentum the flick manages to muster all too often.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  As I viewed this one entirely via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
 
Alas … only mildly recommended.
 
It isn’t as if Project Dorothy (2024) is a bad film; rather, its greatest disadvantage is that it brings really nothing new or nothing compelling to the whole ‘locked box’ and ‘A.I. gone bad’ sub-genre of Science Fiction and Fantasy filmmaking.  At around 75 minutes, it’s also entirely too long, feeling like someone thought taking a 30-minute episode of The Twilight Zone and expanding it to feature length without also beefing up its ideas, budget, and social commentary potential was a good idea for success.  Still, kudos to all involved in for giving genre fans with another iteration of the classic monster movie because it might just challenge budding storytellers to try it again down the road.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Gravitas Ventures provided me with complimentary streaming access to Project Dorothy (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

Good morning, gentle readers, and welcome to ... FRIDAY!

(Cue your favorite party-dancing track)

Well, another week is on the cusp of being done and gone, putting up squarely in the mindset to celebrate another weekend.  It feels good, doesn't it?  It feels grand to know that all you need is a couple days off, and they're here?  (Well, those of you who don't work weekends, that is.)  Whatever the case and wherever you may be, here's hoping that life is well on-the-path to giving you everything you've ever wanted and everything you deserve.

HAPPY FRIDAY!

I'm puttering away this morning on a review or two.  I did manage to squeeze up one of my 'recovered reviews' from my days at Amazon.com for a flick called Sleep Dealer.  Honestly, my review is a bit light on the substance on the film, and that's mostly because I recall being mildly put off by its somewhat obvious and somewhat lazy politics.  I enjoyed it -- don't make any mistake on that front -- but I did have to set aside my own persuasions in order to truly do that.  It's still definitely worth a watch -- that's strongly encouraged for folks who enjoy independent Science Fiction because this one was reasonably low budget -- and it gets a thumbs up from me.  Maybe I'll pull it out some day in the future and revisit it for more depth.  We'll see.

Not all that long back, I traded words with a fellow on Twitter (now called X for some reason) who was insisting that there was no such thing as a 'perfect film.'

Ahem.

While I certainly understand where the gentleman was coming from (basically, he was trying to come to the defense of a film but could've probably taken a less controversial approach), I strongly -- very strongly -- disagree with him, so much so that I even offered up a short list of perfect films that I could think of just off the top of my head.  Today, I'm surprised that I failed to mention 1990's Tremors amongst one of the big screens shots of perfection because that film was and remains a work of pure theatrical art.

Yes, yes, and yes: I can hear you arguing otherwise, much like a thousand voices crying out suddenly going silent, but -- apologies -- you're wrong.  Tremors is as perfect as any genre film can get.  It resonates on a level with audiences that few flicks do; and decades later the audiences who find it continue to wonder why they've either never heard about it more often or never found it until now.  Its script works efficiently.  Its characters are authentic.  Its pacing is not to be trifled with.  In fact, there's absolutely nothing about the motion picture that would ever need to be changed.  Kevin Bacon and Fred Ward were silver screen magic -- along with a cast of assorted victims and survivors, alike -- and it remains one of the industry's crowning achievements on every conceivable level.

Well ...

The truth about Tremors is that it wasn't exactly a box office sensation.  (FYI: neither was the highly regarded Citizen Kane from 1941, often cited as the highwater mark for all of filmdom.)  While there are a handful of arguments as to how and why it escaped so much praise in that first theatrical run, the truth is it's a picture that defies formula -- it's part Comedy, part Science Fiction, part Fantasy, part Horror, etc. -- so advertisers and critics perhaps didn't quite know what to make of it at the time.  Still, I've always said that this kinda/sorta wacky assemblage of parts made it a bit of a mutt -- a little bit of everything possible -- much in the same way its two heroes don't exactly have heroic pedigrees in any regard.  Thematically and textually, it's perfectly balanced ... and if you haven't seen it then watch it today on its anniversary.
​

Also, it wasn't all that long ago that I penned a small observation about the highest regarded episodes of the television Science Fiction classic, Star Trek.

No, no, and no: I don't remember the context exactly, but I believe I was trying to point out how some of the original series' run had a solid handful of adventures that -- even though dated by today's standards -- still strike the right chord with viewers even decades later.  One such installment was "Arena," and this hour first aired on this day all the way back in 1967.

Now ... ahem ... I'm not gonna suggest in any way that this alien creature -- the Gorn -- was delivered an endearingly as it could have been.  You have to keep in mind that creature effects from the 1950's and 1960's were a bit of an acquired taste.  These producers couldn't exactly run out to the nearest costume shop and purchase an alien warrior suit 'off the rack,' so there's something to be said for the level of ingenuity that did show up on the small screen.  Even to this day, the Gorn remains one of Trek's signature species.  Star Trek: Strange New Worlds has kinda/sorta cheapened its legacy by taking it in a vastly different thematic direction, but -- for its place and time -- this lumbering lizard-like monster with its maw of pointed teeth was good enough for those who us who liked to go where no man had gone before.

Welcome to the International Day of the Gorn, fellow readers.  Go on out and 'hug a Gorn' today because I said so.
​

​And ... par for the course?  There's more.  In fact, there's a lot more for you to explore on the Daily Citation Page from SciFiHistory.Net, and you're encouraged to do so at your leisure right now ...

Seriously, folks, as I always say: THANK YOU for reading ... THANK YOU for sharing ... THANK YOU for being a fan ... and live long and prosper!

​-- EZ