Some online have compared the career of Stella Stevens to that of the late Marilyn Monroe.

Certainly, both were beautiful bombshells of a bygone era, and they largely made their way into the business of entertainment playing characters on screens big and small who weren't above using a bit of their good looks to get what they wanted out of life.  Alas, filmmakers usually don't give these actresses the best material to work with -- beauty has its price, after all, and when someone is cast mostly for sex appeal there may not be much else in the script for these ladies to explore.  While we might never know the true extent of their acting potential, it's still safe to suggest that they did all was possible to leave their marks whenever given the opportunity.

Still, Stevens contributions to genre entertainment are a bit light, but I'll mention the significant ones I've found on IMDB.com.

Without a doubt, her big introduction to Science Fiction and Fantasy might be the flick she's most remembered for: in 1963, she starred opposite popular funnyman Jerry Lewis aboard The Nutty Professor for Paramount Pictures.  In 2004, the feature was inducted into the U.S.'s National Film Registry, the institution which seeks to preserve pictures with an established legacy in all of filmdom.

In 1966, she joined Dean Martin aboard The Silencers, an adaptation of the Matt Helm novel, for Columbia Pictures.

​In 1972, she paid a visit to the world of TV's Circle Of Fear anthology program.  "The Dead We Leave Behind" saw her cast as a murdered wife whose spirit may or may not have been causing shenanigans from the afterlife to the detriment of her guilty husband.

​In 1975, Stevens joined the equally stunning Lynda Carter aboard an episode of TV's popular Wonder Woman.  It was a small role aboard the series' pilot -- "The New Original Wonder Woman" -- but it was a great chance to show her skills.

In 1978, she boarded the Cruise Into Terror, a telefilm that saw passengers aboard a cruise ship being adversely effected by some cursed cargo.  That same year, she also appeared in The Manitou on the silver screen, a SciFi/Horror hybrid that explored the reincarnation of a 400-year-old Native American spirit.

​In 1979, she stepped aboard Supertrain, a short-lived serial that explored stories of those who rode the high-tech transport.

In 1984, Stella and some other beautiful ladies inhabited the Fantasy/Thriller Amazons.  Directed by Paul Michael Glaser, the premise saw the fairer sex setting their sights on world domination in a plot to kill off influential male leaders.

​1987 saw the actress dipping back into some Comedy/Fantasy with some work in writer/director Bob Dahlin's Monster In The Closet.

In 1991, Stevens appeared as one of the headliners in The Terror Within II, a sequel that only loosely toyed with the original.  Interestingly enough, her son -- Andrew Stevens -- starred opposite his mother as well as served as the project's director, his debut behind the camera.

​There are a few other smaller vehicles that benefitted from the woman's good graces, but methinks you get the point: Stevens was no stranger to worlds of the fantastical, and I think our genre is better off owed in no small part to some of the contributions she leaves behind for fans to discover in the years ahead.

As always, thoughts and prayers are extended to the friends, family, and fans of Stella Stevens.  May she rest in peace.

​-- EZ

Content Warning:
This is just a quick notice to all of you prudes who occasionally take issue with my pointing out that some actresses are not just attractive but also they're damn sexy-as-hell.  If you take issue with that kind of copy, then this is your chance to go elsewhere -- right now -- so you don't read this post.  You've been warned.  Don't bother emailing me.

Mark my words: Raquel Welch wasn't just a sexy-as-hell woman.  She was a gifted actress.

To perhaps an earlier generation of genre fans, she was considered one of the original genre queens.  Her one-two genre punch -- 1966's Fantastic Voyage (Twentieth Century Fox) and One Million Years B.C. (Hammer Films) -- certainly put her 'on the map' of Science Fiction and Fantasy fans around the world.  Though her later adventures in realms of the fantastic were decidedly lighter, I think it's still safe to say that her lovely face certainly charted an incredible course for fandom to follow in the years ahead.

​In fairness to the fullness of her resume, she wasn't exactly what anyone would call of 'box office heavyweight.'  For a time, methinks she was vastly more well known for being a sex symbol, and that was likely the chief reason why producers sought her participation in any number of projects -- big and small or even smart or dumb.  Clearly, her good looks contributed to her personal success -- a fact of life that even she accepted -- and in 1995 Empire Magazine saw her clocking in at 18th on their 100 Sexiest Stars in Film History.

18th?

Dare I say that's a bit too low?

While her work in Science Fiction may've been a bit light, I've always wondered if I might've enjoyed 1968's Barberella (Paramount Pictures) more than I did.  For those who are unaware, she was in consideration for the lead -- a part that, sadly, eventually was awarded to Jane Fonda -- and I can't help but wonder what she might've done with the picture.  Who knows?  Some might think fandom and filmdom dodged a bullet, but I suspect the flick may've gone on to even greater heights than the cult status it maintains today.
​
As for other flights of fancy she may've taken during her time in the business that might be of interest to fans?  Very early in her career, she paid a visit to the world of Bewitched.  1967's Fantasy/Comedy Bedazzled (Twentieth Century Fox) certainly took advantage of her sex appeal, casting her in the role of 'Lilian Lust.'  In 1979, she showed up in an episode of TV's Mork & Mindy.  Lastly, in 1995, she stopped in for some work on Lois & Clark: The New Adventures Of Superman.

Alas, none of us lasts forever, and word reached SciFiHistory.Net's desk this week of the lady's passing at the ripe age of 82.

Prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Ms. Welch.  May she forever rest in peace.

​-- EZ

Let’s put it this way:
 
If you write 183 different films, then the odds are pretty good that you’re going to have some winners and some losers in there, right?  I mean … even if we’re really only talking statistically – with all that we’ve been told about a thousand monkeys typing endlessly, and one will eventually, inevitably produce something Shakespearean – then doesn’t it stand to reason that the screenwriter should find some successes and failures … right?
 
Now, let’s add another later:
 
If you direct an astonishing 207 different films, then the odds are pretty that – just like I stated above – you’re going to have the same?  Some good, some bad, some ugly.  I mean … it just stands to reason that would be the case … right?
 
Well …
 
I haven’t seen nearly as much from the library of works of Jess Franco (aka Jesus Franco) as have others.  If I’m being perfectly honest, then I’d have to admit that friends and associates have largely encouraged me to avoid some specific titles – not his entire body of “art” – and I’ve never had cause to doubt the advice.  I can say that what I have seen hasn’t been all that … erm … what’s the word?  Impressive?  Persuasive?  Relatable?  When it comes to productions, I do tend to identify more with films featuring characters I can relate to, and Franco allegedly trafficked in an awful lot of exploitation stuff.  And, hey, I’ve no problem with that … but again I keep coming back to the lack of a logically progressing plot being a central requirement.
 
On that front, I think Franco probably swung and missed more than most, but he probably has a solid reputation wherein his misses might just make for a reasonable way to be entertained for an hour or two.  These aren’t grand films by any estimation – at least, none that I’ve seen – but there’s still something about them that I just can’t quite put my finger 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:
“Penniless and separated from her sister, a beautiful, chaste orphan must endure an endless parade of villains, perverts, and degenerates who covet her virtue and life.”
 
Rarely do I try to mix words on narrative issues, but I do wish to be clear on this point: Franco’s Marquis de Sade’s Justine isn’t so much a picture as it is a parable.  Based entirely on the script’s construction – as adapted from the novel by Harry Alan Towers, Arpad DeRiso, and Erich Konte – I’ve absolutely no doubt that’s how this meager potboiler was intended from start-to-finish.  In that regard, it actually works quite efficiently, maybe even “textbook” as they say.
​

Two sisters – Justine (played by the lovely Romina Power) and Juliette (Maria Rohm) – are wiling away their youth under the roof of a convent.  The loss of both parents, however, means that they’ve no way to continue paying for such a life, and they’re set loose on the streets wherein they eventually decide to part ways (Juliette, it would seem, seeks refuge, room, and board in the arms of a sultry maiden within a local brothel; but the young and impressionable Justine will have no such thing).  Then, the remainder of the tales unspools, charting out these separate lives and showing that – whether living a life in service to good or evil desires – two souls still just might reach the same destination.
 
So if that’s what awaits each of us, then why take the high road?  I suspect those sentiments were probably what the Marquis himself had in mind, given what history has told us about how he lived his life of debauchery.
 
Still, the script adds one more layer of context worthy of note.  While the exploits of Justine and Juliette occupy the bulk of screen time, de Sade himself – in the guise of actor Klaus Kinski – turns in a somewhat tortured performance as the man behind bars.  In these vignettes, he’s somewhat tortured – not physically so much as in mentally with vivid memories of his exploits – and pontificates (in voiceover fashion) about the nature of his life and choices.  It may not be perfectly understandable – I found these sequences to be a bit distracting at times, mostly because they featured the leading ladies roleplaying out whatever de Sade was going on about this time – but they do elevate an otherwise routine good-girl-bad-girl dynamic that develops rather quickly between the sisters at odds socially.
 
Also, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that Justine – the film, not the lady – looks pretty fabulous.  I’ve read that the film was one of the best budgets that the controversial filmmaker had to work with; and I think that shows very consistently throughout the feature.  Granted, there are a few practical sets here which could’ve used a bit more visual flavor, but the location shooting, costumes, and props all are a cut above lesser efforts; and they do give the production a greater feel of authenticity when it comes to considering it as a period piece.  Kudos to all involved for putting the cash invested to good use.
 
However, Justine – a picture often talked about for its promiscuousness – is fairly void of anything genuinely sensual.  Granted, some of this might be owed to the fact that this was produced in the late 1960’s, and Franco had to work with producing something that could and would get past censors of the day.  Far too much of it feels staged – a weakness I’ve found in many period pictures – and the performances end up too uninspired or leaning a bit too cartoonish to develop any palpable tension.
 
In fact, the late Jack Palance shows up (for some reason) as the leader of what appears to be some 17th century sex cult, and his (ahem) accent is downright laughable … and I mean ‘laughable’ to the point of absurdity in a few places.  I can’t discount the idea of what his character represented here – it’s all developed within context of the place and time – but … Jack Palance?  A French S&M ruler?  Was there literally no French actors of note who could’ve stepped up and salvaged this sequence?
 
Marquis de Sade’s Justine (1969) was produced by Etablissement Sargon, Corona Filmproduktion, Aica Cinematografica S.R.L., and American International Pictures (AIP).  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated via the good folks at Blue Underground.  As for the technical specifications?  Though I’m no trained video expert, I can assure you that this picture looks and sounds fabulous from start-to-finish.
 
If you’re looking for special features, then buckle up, buttercup!  This two-disc collection features an audio commentary (film historians Nathaniel Thompson and Troy Howarth) on the 4K disc, but then head on over to the Blu-ray one for quite a bit more, including cast and crew interviews, trailers, stills, an alternate U.S. edit of the film, and maybe even a few things extra.  It’s a very good collection, and it should keep fans busy for some time.
 
(Mildly) Recommended, but …
 
Sigh.  Honestly, the films of Jess Franco are always (always!) advertised as ‘erotic’ and/or ‘sleazy’ and – in my humble estimation – those that I’ve seen are barely (barely!) titillating.  His Marquis de Sade’s Justine (1969) is no different, and – if anything – it’s probably the least titillating of the bunch given the fact that there’s more parable in here than perversion.  Honestly, I’d get more ‘hot and bothered’ if I picked this thing up as a recommendation for something carnal only to find out there was so, so, so very little in it.  It does boast some interesting production values – and some good location photography – but as anything steamy?  Sorry, folks, I’m not seeing it.  Nor should you.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Blue Underground provided me with a complimentary 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray of Marquis de Sade’s Justine by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

(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 Vinegar Syndrome’s supplied publicity materials:
“A wild and surreal outer space adventure.  A mid-80’s mash-up of The Empire Strikes Back, Alien, and Edgar Rice Burrough’s Tarzan.  In the year 6470, a husband-and-wife team of explorers receive a mysterious distress signal from an astronaut who disappeared decades earlier.  They leave their son aboard ship to search for the missing astronaut – but fate intervenes, their own ship crashes – leaving their son alone – or is he?”
 
Though I’ve never been a huge fan of animation, I will admit to a fondness for those projects that are a bit more Science Fiction and Fantasy in nature.  The late 1970’s and early 1980’s saw a good number of space-based Ips which were quite good in depicting space exploration and adventure, though a few of them kinda/sorta lost their way in crafting stories a bit too dumbed down – likely so that they’d appeal to the ‘youngest among us,’ expanding their audience share with Saturday morning viewing potential – and I tuned them out.  But it’s very, very cool when I can rant and/or rave about something I’ve never seen before, which is the case with The Son Of The Stars.
 
From what I’ve been able to ascertain (mind you, there isn’t a whole lot written about this project on the Information Superhighway), Fiul Stelelor – its original name – was Romanian effort that combined influences from a variety of sources – Star Wars, Flash Gordon, and more – and hasn’t had much (if any) notable screening outside its native country.  Still, it definitely looks like something very much conceived and executed in the 80’s – for me, it’s stylistically very similar to Filmation’s good-and-bad Flash Gordon incarnation (1979-1982) – though I’d have a hard time putting it alongside contemporaries because of its narrative sensibilities … or lack thereof.
 
Directed by the team of Calin Cazan, Dan Chisovski, and Mircea Toia (as per IMDB.com), Stars doesn’t quite have a tightly constructed plotline, though its synopsis might lead audiences to believe otherwise.  Yes, we’re introduced to a young hero – Dan – and we’re taken along his journey from childhood to manhood – seemingly where he’ll find hero status – but it’s a series of curious twists and turns that account for his maturation process.  Essentially left parentless on the planet Doreea, the boy has to learn an all-new way of life: his adoptive parents – a species that speaks telepathically and can both move objects telekinetically as well as create them out of thin air – prepare the young man to eventually rise up and throw off their oppressor.  It would seem this region of space is ‘governed’ by an entity kinda/sorta beyond both space and time, making him/her/it understandably hard to find, only showing its face/facelessness conveniently when/if he/she/it wishes.
 
If my issues with this construct isn’t clear enough, then perhaps Stars felt more like a story put together in progress, with no clear blueprint for precisely how it was going to take audiences from its rather specific set-up to its ‘throw everything included the kitchen sink’ finale.  To the makers’ credit, they keep the action flowing: about the time Dan understands his place in this corner of the universe, a bit of new exposition emerges to show that it ain’t quite so, and Stars bobs and weaves in a somewhat different trajectory while still maintaining its focus on a spectacular space battle showdown that only animation could deliver back in its day.  (Well, unless you were George Lucas …)

In fact, I’d argue that Stars possesses an almost eerily poetic ‘stream of consciousness’ quality to its narrative flow.  I was honestly a bit surprised at just how many times in its 80 minutes the producers opted to throw something else into the mix, perhaps feeling as if they hadn’t already upped the ante enough for those still aboard.  Much like the lead, you can’t quite anticipate where the almost psychedelic mind trip might be taking you next – there are floating orbs, creatures whose number of appendages keep changing, and questions of reality versus perception all swirling in the occasionally heady mash-up of styles – and I guess that was one reason I couldn’t quite turn away … I had no idea how this was all going to tie together in the big finish.
 
Well … it didn’t quite ‘stick the landing’ as well as I had hoped, but it still made for an interesting diversion.  There’s something to be said for Stars’ obvious ambition; wherein other storytellers might’ve pulled it back a bit, this team dialed it up to eleven.  Hell, Dan even manages to (somehow) get the girl in the end, and that’s got to count for something, am I right?  I’ll leave you to figure whether or not you thought it was effective or not.  As for me?  I enjoyed it perfectly fine.
 
The Son Of The Stars (1985) (aka Fiul Stelelor) was produced by Animafilm Studio.  DVD distribution (for this particular limited edition release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Vinegar Syndrome.  As for the technical specifications?  First, I’m no trained video expert.  Second, I viewed this product via a popular web-streaming portal.  As I’ve stated before, I unfortunately do not live in a home that has perfect streaming speeds – curse you, internet service provider! – so occasionally some of the imperfections I might experience I owed to that and not the original source material.  I can assure you that what I viewed appeared to be very good product about 95% of the time; there were some small issues with image clarity that may or may not have been part of the original source.  I’ve no way to know for certain.
 
Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then I’m happy to provide for you what I’ve read online about this particular package.  Vinegar Syndrome has this available with either a limited edition slipcover or without (depending upon whether you wish to save a few bucks).  This disc itself is an all-new 4K scan reportedly from the original 35mm negative and sound elements, and the restoration was overseen by Craig Rogers and Tyler Fagerstrom on behalf of Deaf Crocodile Films.  The disc also boasts an audio commentary track hosted by film journalist Samm Deighan; a video interview with co-director Calin Cazan; and a collector’s booklet with an essay by comics artist and publisher Stephen R. Bissette.  (As I was only provided a streaming link, I cannot make any statement on the quality of those materials, so consider this ‘buyer beware.’)

Recommended, but …
 
The Son Of The Stars (1985) (aka Fiul Stelelor) is one of the weirdest animated flicks I’ve had the good fortune to watch and review.  It isn’t a bad viewing experience; it’s just a bit … well … ‘wacky’ is the only way I can describe it fully.  The narrative kinda/sorta ebbs and flows with the main premise changing directions more than once.  It feels a bit like a ‘stream of consciousness’ poem … or a story told by a kid entirely made up right from cloth.  Still, it has just enough charm – and enough commitment to clearly being something inspired – that I’d encourage a single view for ‘Children Of The ‘80’s’ or diehard Science Fiction and Fantasy enthusiasts.  Just don’t expect it to make perfect sense in all places.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Vinegar Syndrome provided me with complimentary streaming access to view The Son Of The Stars by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

In case you’re wondering, I first experienced Tobe Hooper’s The Texas Chain Saw Massacre when it made the rounds on pay cable, probably some time in the late 1970’s or early 1980’s.  Those years blend together for me – for a variety of personal reasons – so the specifics do escape me.  But it’s a viewing I do recall, mostly because I remember being just a touch disappointed.
 
For those unaware, Massacre is the kind of feature presentation that – like William Friedkin’s The Exorcist (1973) – had been seen theatrically and talked about for a few years after.  Media sensations were different back in those days – there were exponentially fewer television channels and movie houses – so when something ‘left its mark’ on audiences it continued being talked about for some time.  So on top of all the controversy Massacre had in both getting made and getting released, moviegoers gave it new life beyond their respective viewings by telling friends and family about it, encouraging fans to go and see it, and cautioning the parents of children to keep their kids away from it … at all costs.
 
As you can imagine – and as a result of the hype – Massacre became the kind of flick kids like me just had to see.  Somehow.  And – most likely – you had to see it while keeping your parents oblivious to the fact that you finally saw it.  That was the trick, you see, and that’s why we had friends and neighbors.  We’d go to their house and watch it, probably while their parents were away, and find comfort (or not) by following that whole ‘there’s safety in numbers’ rule.
 
So, yes, I saw it under those precarious circumstances.  As so often happens when society builds something up, I was a bit let down.  Oh, sure.  The whole wacky cannibal family made an impression, and the assortment of eccentric backwoods Texans were memorable in ways only movies deliver best.  But, for me, lost somewhere in all of that weirdness was an interesting story.  Massacre – or, at least, the sum of its part – remains only a visceral escape.  A carnival thrill ride gone bloody.  Because I wouldn’t be venturing into those parts of Texas – nor was I likely to explore creepy houses without an invite – I just wasn’t all that impressed, much less scared.
 
At my young age, I was unaware just how many folks had come face-to-face with Leatherface and were scared silly.
 
Decades later – and vastly wiser – I think I understand its impact much better.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for my final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Five friends head out to rural Texas to visit the grave of a grandfather.  On the way they stumble across what appears to be a deserted house, only to discover something sinister within.  Something armed with a chainsaw.”
 
Could there be any simply way to deliver pure terror than that?
​

Generally speaking, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre represents the kind of Horror that I tend to avoid.
 
Now, I mean no disrespect.  I’m a pretty bi fan of Horror – though I prefer Science Fiction and Fantasy far more – but scripts that dabble in mostly conventional ideas kinda/sorta leave me cold.  They don’t turn me off; it’s just that inflicting the lion’s share of torture on any cadre of unsuspecting victims can be accomplished with greater creativity, can’t it?  I prefer frights that are a bit more supernatural in delivery.  Ghosts, demons, possessions, and the like just tickle my fancy – they give me a bit more to think about, you see – and torment or suffering of such a primitive variety can be accomplished with relative ease.  There just anything all that ‘special’ about it.
 
Still, Massacre earns a bit of my respect because – as they say – it was the first of its kind.  Much has been written about the film’s authentic presentation of some fairly grim subject matter, and, yes, I’d certainly have to agree that such raw spectacle had eluded filmdom before screenwriter and director Tobe Hooper put his particular stamp on the genre.  I’ve also read that it was the first film to throw power tools into the heady, bloody mix; though I’ve not done enough research to know whether that’s accurate, I’ll take such a statement at face value, agreeing that this, too, probably puts Massacre on any ‘must see’ list when trying to understand what truly makes people frightened of what goes bump in the night.
 
Honestly, I would’ve been too young to have seen The Texas Chain Saw Massacre in theaters, and I’m glad I was.  It likely would’ve scared my wee-little mind for life.  Though its true chill are still a bit passé by today’s standards (we’ve come a long way, baby), I’d still argue that actress Marilyn Burns deserves an incredible bit of special recognition for her part in pioneering an all-new kind of fright on the silver screen, and it’s a performance whose heights can’t be understated in away possible way.  Yes, others were scared silly before, but at the end of a chain saw?  Nah.  This was all new territory for moviegoers, and her work in the picture warrants a modicum of praise.
 
It goes without saying (but I’ll say it anyway) that there’s a wealth of written material already out there exploring Massacre from a variety of intelligent perspectives.  Hooper and co-screenwriter Kim Henkel constructed their project to say something about the world-at-large, and many a brainiac has spent time dissecting its images and themes across the veritable spectrum of academia.  My two cents in this space will not be the be-all-end-all on the film in any regard, so I do encourage those of you who still read to surf the information superhighway for rest stops all of your own.  Trust me when I say, “There will be plenty.”  And … much of what has been written is kind interesting.
 
Still, because its foundational principles aren’t exactly my bailiwick, I’ve always stumbled in trying to have something relevant to say about it other than what I’ve said here.  It’s a lean, mean, killing machine.  It’s arguably one of the best edited frights you’ll find in the whole Horror library, with not an ounce of fat nor wasted space.  Its players all show up and hit their marks admirably – even those with the most oddball mannerisms or quirky sensibilities.  It likely won’t be a comfortable viewing experience … but I dare say it’s one you may never forget.
​

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) was produced by Vortex.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable folks at Dark Sky Films.  As for the technical specifications?  Though I’m no trained video expert, let me try to be perfectly clear: this is advertised as being a “director-approved 4K restoration,” but it bears mentioning that the original was reportedly shot on 16mm film.  What this means is that there’s still going to be some fine grain in the experience … but it’ll likely be the cleanest fine grain you’ve ever seen!  (snicker snicker)  Let’s just say that any grain adds to the experience of making this feel like the most dangerous home movie ever attempted.
 
If you’re looking for special features?  Well, then buckle up because this collection is loaded to the gills.  The 4K disc includes four separate commentaries (including the actors, actresses, and many craftsmen and women who worked on the picture in some capacity), so that alone is going to give you hours of extra entertainment.  However, the goods don’t stop there, and the accompanying Blu-ray bonus disc includes an all-new feature-length documentary of the flick’s enduring legacy; several making-of and/or interview shorts with cast and crew; deleted scenes; outtakes; bloopers; stills; TV spots; radio adverts; and even a bit more.  I say this humbly: this is exactly the kind of value purchasing practical media still provides fans as it’s an incredibly comprehensive set of extras put together to your benefit.  Well done, all around.
 
Highly recommended … if for no other reason than the fact that the film definitely deserves to be seen at least once.  Many won’t return to it – for any number of reasons – but that doesn’t diminish the fact that it’s a textbook definition for how low-budget Horror films truly work and what they’re capable of.
 
As I tried to be clear above, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre isn’t so much a good film as it is a relevant film.  Its cast and crew set out with the unstated ambition of trying to do something first: they wanted to give audiences an authentic bout of manic fright.  They wanted it to look and sound and feel as real as possible; and I think on that standard there’s no mistaking how well a result they achieved.  The flick has gone on to become the gold standard for ‘this type of thing,’ and decades later it continues to influence storytellers just getting started in the business.  It’s as ground-breaking as it is blood-letting … and that’s saying something.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Dark Sky Films provided me with a complimentary 4K Ultra HD Steelbook Edition of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

Dare I say: Swamp Thing has never really moved me as a reader, but I do have a fondness for the 1982 theatrical incarnation brought to life – in comic book fashion – by the late Wes Craven.
 
I’ve mentioned before that I grew up in a small, small town; and – on Saturdays – the only real escape from the doldrums of existence was our hometown movie theater.  A film like Swamp Thing would arrive, and – most likely because all of the kids would flock to see it – it would get held over for a few weeks.  The end result of these repeat engagements is that we’d go to see it again and again, perhaps not so much because we loved it but because … well … it was playing … there was nothing else to do … and we were bored otherwise.  We’re all creatures of habit, as they say, so who’s to say no?  Suffice it to say, I probably sat through Craven’s film four times (at least!), so I grew to appreciate it unlike other features of the era.
 
However, I give you my word that for years I’ve avoided viewing The Return Of Swamp Thing (1989).  And, yes, this was a conscious choice on my part, mostly because – being one who traffics with a great number of folks who talk about film – I’d only heard some pretty awful assessments of the sequel.  While the first installment was no big winner by any estimation, everyone I know insisted that the follow-up wasn’t worth the time, mostly because of its cookie-cutter plot, horrible performances, and low-quality production.
 
Well, many years have gone by now – actually, three decades – and I think it’s safe to say that, for the most part, everything I had been told was mostly accurate.  I’ve finally sat down and watched this curious misfire of a comic book property.  About the only good thing I can truly say about it is that – if you have kids – they may get a kick out of it.  The story definitely leans heavily toward the young audiences, so much so that I’m not surprised this one has likely ended up in the trash heap of film history.
 
(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:
“In this tongue-in-cheek sequel, the benevolent bog creature falls for the vegetarian, plant-loving daughter of the evil scientist who created him.”
 
As I said above, I do have a love for Swamp Thing.
 
In fact, my love of the original film has caused me on more than one occasion to even pick up a few graphic novel collections exploring the history of DC Comics’ creature feature.  I’ve checked out both incarnations of the live action television shows highlighting the monster; the first one – like The Return Of Swamp Thing – was painfully bad, and the second one just never quite found any grounding, never built up any momentum.  I think Swamp Thing is a hard sell in some respects because his better stories are a bit ‘out there.’  Outside of the character’s origins, his isn’t the most relatable story out there, if you know what I mean.

But I find myself asking how could a fixture as prominent as Swamp Thing get such an overwhelming milquetoast theatrical outing as The Return?  The script from Derek Spencer and Grant Morris is unrepentantly bland, pretty much striking the exact same arc for Alec Holland/Swampy character (played by Dick Durock), which is to say that he’ll need to stand his ground against the onslaught of bad science stemming from the secret shenanigans of Dr. Anton Arcane (Louis Jourdan reprising his role also from the original).  Even the reliable Sarah Douglas can’t elevate the simplicity of the action; her guise as ‘good scientist / bad scientist’ Dr. Lana Zurrell is largely wasted in a secondary plotline and sadly demonstrates the flick’s only real narrative traction.  Alas, she’s gone before you know it, and you’ll definitely miss her – and her passing contribution – once it’s gone.
 
Perhaps the worst addition, however, is Heather Locklear.
 
Don’t get me wrong: I’m all for a pretty face when a pretty face is needed.  In fact, I’m often flamed by casual readers for pointing out that sometimes the best attributes put to good use in movies are good looks, and Locklear here is in top form … as an uncontested beauty queen.  Though she’s given a few worthwhile snarky lines, she can’t otherwise act to save her life much less the lives of anyone else in here in jeopardy  – though I believe she emerges unscathed for those who will worry otherwise – and the fact that the script really gives her nothing to do except serve as a love interest and ‘damsel-in-distress’ proves that this is likely why she was hired to the part.  She lacks any of the moxie of, say, Kim Basinger rather famously brought to her role of ‘Vicki Vale’ in 1989’s Batman; and I suspect this may be what producers had in mind when Locklear was cast.  It’s hard enough making sparks fly opposite a stalk of celery, but that’s what she was meant to do … and she fails stupendously.
 
Perhaps Return’s saving grace is a pair of young children who are along for the ride and tend to pop up when the story needs a laugh or two.  On that front, they’re effective, though forgettable …
 
… and I suspect man of you will want to forget this film as well.
 
The Return Of Swamp Thing (1989) was produced by Lightyear Entertainment.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by Lightyear and MVD Visual.  As for the technical specifications?  Though I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights and sounds of this one to be surprisingly good.  (Having watched the new 4K Restoration from the original interpositive, I can assure you that its both crisp and bright.  Nice work!)  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then you have quite a bit to look forward to.  The 4K disc boasts the restored film, an interview with producer Michael E. Uslan, and a curious RiffTrax music video.  The Blu-ray includes two separate commentary tracks, some interview shorts, promotional clips, TV spots, a photo gallery, and a bit more.  It’s a fabulous collection for people who like this sort of thing.
 
(Mildly) Recommended.
 
Though I give this one only a modest recommendation, I think it’s safe to say that it’s likely only intended for the very young – an audience of children, basically – as it just lacks any real substance in plot, character, and (ahem) acting.  It isn’t as bad as I’ve been led to believe over the years, but it’s definitely close.  It was undoubtedly produced on a pretty slim budget.  The humor isn’t all that grand.  And the jolly green giant of the swamps really deserved something vastly more fitting than this.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Lightyear provided me with a complimentary 4K UltraHD + Blu-ray copy of The Return Of Swamp Thing (1989) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

​Folks, I’ve written before of my fondness for the ‘found footage’ feature.
 
Yes, yes, yes: I realize that an awful lot of readers are not tremendous fans of it, and I certainly understand their reservations.  Occasionally this visual technique is overdone by budding filmmakers to the point of inducing a mild (or severe) case of motion sickness, and we’ve all been there done that, especially in our pursuit of some good scares.  Horror projects are, perhaps, the widest purveyors of found footage; and given the amount of blood, guts, and other bodily fluids typically spilled onscreen in these efforts, this match isn’t always one made in Heaven.  Still, when the framework is used smartly, it can make for an incredibly visceral experience, so I’ve always been willing to risk a headache in hopes of being rewarded with final twist.
 
However, somewhere along the way, storytellers kinda/sorta lost sight of what truly makes found footage its own unique subgenre.  From my perspective, this happened when these tales decided they needed to ramp up even more scares in the run times, a narrative switcheroo that typically required some kind of post-production editing in order to legitimately compete with stories of greater depth.  Not all legends are created equal – chiefly meaning that not every fable can authentically work within this caught-live-in-the-camera construction – and, thus, directors and screenwriters started to cheat just a bit.
 
As for Mean Spirited, a Horror/Comedy heavily advertised to be ‘found footage?’
 
Well, they cheated a lot, so much so that I think it’s not entirely appropriate to call it found footage.
 
In fact, it’s much more like a podcast production.  It’s never quite ‘live’ but does tinker with that approach a great deal, so much so that I get why some might think of it alongside features like The Blair Witch Project (1999) or any of the more effective Paranormal Activity films.  But make no mistake: it’s still a worthy Horror/Comedy endeavor, despite the fact that we’ve all likely seen all of its tricks elsewhere before.
 
(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 failed YouTuber’s weekend in the Poconos turns into a nightmare when a demon joins the party.”
 

Horror podcasts have turned in some respectable mileage with attempting to put their audiences up-close-and-personal with what scares them most – many in a real-time format – and there have been a handful of films in the last year which have tried to cover the same territory, albeit from a fictional foundation.  In fact, V/H/S/99 (2022) – just one in a series of releases under the V/H/S banner – was a very solid ‘found footage’ style anthology I recently reviewed right here.  Granted, not every entry stayed tried-and-true to the narrative structure, but each – in its own way – managed to attempt something fresh by way of scaring viewers out of the wits as they watched horrors unfolding in the ticking of the proverbial clock.
 
In comparison, Mean Spirited (2022) reaches for similar aspirations and definitely with the same comic intensity.  Its basic premise involves a group of friends all getting back together in a somewhat remote location wherein a dark supernatural force – that may or may not be linked to one of them (sorry, I try to avoid spoiling central plot points, folks, so that’ll have to do) – slowly begins to manipulate these players one-by-one, though what agenda is being served remains largely elusive.  However, there’s very little ‘found footage’ in here, as – come the big finish – it’s very clear that the entire production was heavily altered in post-production (even by its players, since it’s a video blog film-within-a-film) in order to deliver its final message.
 
And yes: there is a final message.  Stay through the opening of the end credits, and you’ll see what I mean.
 
Writer/director Jeff Ryan – who also stars as Bryce and shares screenwriter duties here with Joe Adams (who as well has a small part) – does an affable job keeping Spirited’s wheels turning even when there’s not an awful lot of action onscreen.  Granted, most of the plot is more than a bit formulaic here, so that may not seem like much to some.  Still, kudos on producing a script that minimally tried to give a few of its players a bit more substance to work with than is the case on most Horror features.  There’s a back history linking several of the characters – there’s even an old grudge that plays well into the scarier bits – so the fact that there’s some water already under the bridge both benefits and elevates some of the material in interesting ways.  While it would’ve been nice for more discussion (forgive me for liking character arcs, people), there’s enough to flavor a few small moments with a hint of something extra.
 
Still, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that there’s just no great compelling main performance here.  Spirited works as a functional ensemble – the ladies get the true short shrift here, so far as I’m concerned, getting reduced to the most common stereotypes in even the best Horror films – but even a theater troupe usually benefits from a great lead.  No one quite emerges from the flock here, and I think that winds up ultimately weakening the brand to the point wherein the script’s clichéd twists have lesser impact than they otherwise could’ve.
 
Not caring who survives works fine in dark dramas … but in comedies?  Well, you still wanna root for the underdog.  I just wish Spirited really had one.
​

Mean Spirited (2022) was produced by First-Name Films.  According to the publicity materials I’ve reviewed, the film is currently widely available for online streaming via a variety of popular platforms.  As for the technical specifications?  Though I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights and sounds accompanying the project were very good; mind you, there’s a bit of wacky post-production trickery incorporated here to give the flick the overall aesthetic of a viral video property along with its occasional ‘found footage’ presentation, so be prepared for a modest bit of the herky-jerkies from time-to-time.  (Honestly, it’s much better than most found footage, so no worries.)  Alas, as this was a streaming experience for me, there are no special features about which to report.
 
(Mildly) Recommended.
 
While I’m a pretty big proponent of ‘found footage films,’ I’m honestly not much a fan of those flicks who don’t quite buy into the format, thus using it more as a crutch to attempt something unique as opposed to something original.  In that regard, Mean Spirited is almost entirely mean spirited, taking advantage of the tips and tricks that make found footage worth the time and investment in favor of delivering a finished product that’s entirely too predictable if not entirely too blasé about what could’ve otherwise been a useable frightfest.  In trying to be something that it’s not, it ends up being exactly what audiences expected … without a notable performance in sight.  Yes, it’s a bit of a creative miss, but kudos in still facilitating a worthwhile “be careful what you wish for” moral in its after-the-credits scene.  In the words of any Scooby-Doo villain: “Maybe that’ll teach those meddling teenagers!”
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Entertainment Squad provided me with complimentary streaming access to Mean Spirited (2022) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

It doesn't happen all that often these days, but occasionally I'm still asked by readers and folks I 'get together with' to talk about Science Fiction and Fantasy about what are the seminal films of my youth ... the very flicks that got me started down the primrose path to working so very hard at being one of webdom's singular SciFi Influencers (if I do say so myself).

I often try to explain that because SciFi, Fantasy, and Horror are such mixed bags -- there are dozens and dozens of subgenres within each broader type -- that it's difficult to name but a few.  But in my past I was pressed very hard to come up with those that I can recall vividly seeing on the TV screen of my youngest days.  So, yeah, I kinda/sorta racked my brain a bit on one occasion, and I can come up with the top three.  Now, these three pictures I don't mean to be essential viewing necessarily; all I mean with them is that these are definitely three pictures I can still remember watching when I was very, very young -- but a wee sprite -- and falling in love with at that time.  None of them did I see theatrically -- nor have I yet, though I keep encouraging local theaters to bring them back in limited engagements -- but I do hold out hope that I'll get to them up in the lights at some point.

But ... I digress ...

These three films are:

First, 1951's The Day The Earth Stood Still.  It's a rare gem that I think is a relevant a Science Fiction film that's ever been done.  I think it's stood the test of time and deserves to be rediscovered with each generation of viewers.  Though I don't exactly 'hate' the 2008 remake like so many do -- I think it's a misunderstood flick, honestly -- I'll always argue to watch the original over any newfangled imitator.  It's just that good.

Second, 1967's Quatermass And The Pit.  This was a film I saw very, very, very late at night -- it was on some local channel overnight movie slot -- and I do remember being so very much drawn to it.  I'll admit that I was so young that there were a few parts of it I didn't quite understand at the time -- I asked my father a helluva lot of questions about the ending, and he probably got annoyed with my talking about it so much -- but to this day I can recall first being captivated by it.  I've got it on DVD, and I probably watch it once a year.

Lastly?

1954's Creature From The Black Lagoon.

​While I did watch Universal Pictures' Frankenstein (1931), Dracula (1931), and The Wolf Man (1941) and loved them, too, they didn't quite register with me as much as Creature did.  While I couldn't say why specifically, I've always felt it was because Creature didn't quite have a spectacular backstory they did.  There were no 'transformation' sequences of any kind -- from ordinary to extraordinary -- so I always took it at face value that this was who he always was, the only form he'd ever truly known in existence.  And what a frightening visage he was!  Gills and all, Creature was kinda/sorta plucked out of one's nightmare ... and he was gifted with this look that automatically set folks back if not running away.  He truly had no choice in his life, had no say in his creation, and I always saw him as forced into this villainous mode by absolutely no fault of his own.

So it was this framework that always reminded me to be a bit more respectfully of things that go bump in the night mostly because they very likely had nothing to do with their own making.  Not all monsters are bad ... some are just born looking bad and have to adopt such ways as a consequence of merely being born.  Such was the Creature, and I learned to appreciate monsters in an all-new way as a young'un.

Here's the plot summary as provided by our friends at IMDB.com:

"A strange prehistoric beast lurks in the depths of the Amazonian jungle. A group of scientists try to capture the animal and bring it back to civilization for study."

As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!

​-- EZ

Auteurs get a bad rap.
 
This isn’t because they lack the ability to provide a cohesive product that can also make a buck.  More likely, it’s owed to the fact that audiences avoid even investing time and effort into understanding something if its central message isn’t grasped and understood in the first fifteen (or so) minutes.  These days, audiences expect quite a heavy load of the narrative to be front-loaded, and they’re typically unwilling to wait for whatever rewards might be situated right around the proverbial corner.  As our attention spans have grown narrower and narrower, films that present a longer story or serve as an allegory for something bigger than the latest Ben Stiller comedy (“art” for the masses-at-large) or Martin Scorsese film (art for the critical masses) just aren’t given the time of day.
 
Now, granted, not every auteur-driven motion picture deserves as much commentary as the next, but a truly visionary film has the ability to not only change the way stories are told but also they might encourage us to think about ourselves and our roles in the greater world at large.  They’re as challenging to behold as they challenge us, and this doesn’t sit well with the usual popcorn crowd.
 
To its credit, Upstream Color is something special.  It’s something different.  It’s both big and small in the same estimation … and – most of all?  It deserves as audience.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and characters.  If you’re the kind of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last two paragraphs for my final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
Unlike writer/director (and star) Shane Carruth’s earlier film – Primer (2004) – which I found to be entirely far too esoteric or relatable for its own good, Upstream Color grounds its story in real characters that an audience can care about, root for, and seek to understand.  (Mind you, their journey will not be all that clear from the picture’s start.)  The hard science he leaves in the background, like a forever-present undercurrent driving the plot forward but isn’t so obvious that it ever truly takes central focus.  It's both there as much as it isn’t as we’re taken along this discovery alongside people searching to solve a mystery tying them together in ways that won’t be clear until the ending.
 
Also, Carruth smartly populates Color with folks whose flaws enjoy both conventional and unconventional definition.  You only understand pieces of them and their trajectories because knowing too much too soon might upset the delicate balance between story and substance.  What looks black might be white – or vice versa – but it’s all presented in such a way that it’s easy to follow, almost daring viewers to ‘wait and see’ over gradual forward progress.  In some ways, this technique swings open the door to some very conspiratorial waters, but the script maintains a clear and present Science Fiction foundation, one with layers, that’ll only casually be revealed.  It’s a deft trick – blending fantasy with a bit of reality – but I thought it work brilliantly.
 
Amy (played with ‘girl-next-door’ aplomb by Amy Seimetz) finds her world unexplainably spiraling out of control as she awakens from a substance-abused ‘invasion’ which leaves her jobless and (nearly) penniless.  As she begins her life anew, she finds herself curiously drawn to Jeff (Carruth) in ways that defy any logical explanation.  It is as if destiny has, somehow, inexplicably pulled them together, though they’ve no collective understanding of why they behave with one another the way that they do.  Together – and with great patience – they begin to explore the various ‘surprises’ of their shared existence, leading them to uncover the truth that their ‘joint reality’ is not quite what it seems.
 
Color is the kind of film whose story is difficult to describe without spoiling some of the tale’s internal magic.
 
Suffice it to say, the science-themed romance is nothing short of visual poetry probably best suited for cinema buffs, film aficionados, and academics who prefer more meat than sauce with their meals.  It isn’t the kind of product that’s designed for immediately pay-off of shots and sequences and even smaller moments; it requires a cognitive investment on the part of the viewer.  It takes time, and that isn’t something all viewers are willing to spare.  Rest assured:  it all goes somewhere.  Everything presented has an answer, and yet it isn’t forthcoming in the same way that traditional films are more commonly constructed.  This is one that’s revealed in substantive layers – in the nuances of what looks superficially to be even quirky performances by the players – and even the final scene can speak volumes to the person who finally ‘gets it.’
 
I’ve no doubt that some will or have dismissed Color as an art-house creation, and, to some degree, I suppose that’s a legitimate criticism.  Certainly, these 90 minutes will not be to everyone’s liking.  Discerning fans of intelligent science fiction will probably be most impressed … so long as they’re willing to make the commitment to come for the meal but stay for the pie.
 
Upstream Color is produced by ERBP.  DVD distribution is being handled by Cinedigm Entertainment Group.  As for the technical specifications … wow.  The visual and audio elements of COLOR are exceptional; all aspects weave together to tell this singular story in several possible ways that are always clever and inspired.  Unfortunately (and shame, shame, shame!), the only special features available on the disc I was provided are the theatrical trailers, and that doesn’t even come close to scratching the surface of what I would’ve expected or wanted.  This film is something special, and, as such, I believe it deserved more.
 
Also, I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that Upstream Color served as an ‘Official Selection’ of the 2013 Sundance Film Festival, the 63rd Panorama Internationale Filmfestspiele of Berlin, the SXSW Film Festival, and the 2013 New Directors/New Films Festival.  Also, the film won the Special Jury Prize for Sound Design at 2013’s Sundance.
 
Highest recommendation possible.
 
Upstream Color is an aggressively original vision of a world wherein cause, effect, and purpose collide in ways unimaginable.  You’d be a fool not to discover it.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at ERBP via Cinedigm Entertainment Group provided me with a DVD copy of Upstream Color by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.

​-- EZ

The good news?
 
Horror films can be made on the cheap!
 
The bad news?
 
Well, sadly … Horror films can be made on the cheap.
 
If I had a dime for every film I’ve seen like Abandoned Souls, then I’d at least have earned enough scratch to make my very own horror flick.  On the cheap, at least!  I don’t know if that would be a good thing or a bad thing, as I’ve never made a motion picture.  Sadly, many other people in the entertainment biz suffer from that same affliction, it would appear.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and characters.  If you’re the kind of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last three paragraphs for my final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“In an underground prison an inmate escapes during a riot.  One year later, a group of friends set out to locate an old hermit shack.  Their worst nightmares are revealed when they spawn an evil darkness within the escaped prisoner.”
 
Now … Abandoned Souls starts with a very big premise.
 
There’s this derelict prison facility that apparently is housing men and women who’ve been turned to something similar to zombies or cannibals or feral people (or some other such Horror-fueled nonsense).  Then someone orchestrates a bit of a prison break (or sorts) or was it?  Unfortunately, it’s very unclear, though trust me when I saw it’s all rendered as stylishly as can be accomplished in post-production trickery.  And then some highly-weaponized SWAT team (or some task force or other) rushes the place, only to find most of the inmates are gone.  At this point, the commander then receives an ominous request: “Make them all disappear again.”
 
Again?
 
What?
 
When did they disappear the first time?
 
Sadly, this is the case with much of what accounts for story in Souls.  The opening is a ten-minute set-up reel exploring this prison and its man-eating (or are they?) inmates, and then the viewer is presented with the apocryphal “one year later …” tagline.  So the audience is thrown forward in time a full year after events they’re shown but given no clear explanation for.
 
So … anyway … one year later, a group of friends headed up by McKenzie (played by a lovely Vicki Rivard) and David (a relentlessly dour Aiden Simko) escape the big city for a cabin in the woods (never a good idea, people), and anyone should be able to guess what’s about to happen: yes, they’re all going to spend the weekend basically terrorized by one or more of these feral critterfolk.
 
As you may guess from my tone, I was mostly disappointed with Souls.
 
It would’ve been nice to minimally be given a greater explanation on those fateful opening ten minutes; if nothing else, writer/director Chris Abell would’ve established some greater context for which he was going to spin the real story that follows.  Alas, things fall apart from that point onward, and, while it never truly musters up any significant scares, it does feature a nice central performance by Ms. Rivard.  In fact, she’s so good in the role that I can only hope someone discovers her and offers her work in another picture (one with more thought, preparation, and execution); she’s a reasonably talented bright spot in an otherwise dim work.
 
Also, I’m fairly well known in these parts for giving ‘props’ (kudos) to bright ideas, so I’d be a fool if I missed the chance to say that Souls has a smattering of good ideas in it.  The central problem is there’s nothing connecting all of those good ideas but incidental characters.  For example, I love the reality wherein some secret cadre of monster hunters are hired to roam the backwoods and abandoned cabins of America snuffing out monsters.  Heck, NBC had a popular program in its line-up (called Grimm) that uses that structure as a jumping off point, and where would a franchise like The X-Files be without agents Scully and Mulder relentlessly pursuing what goes bump in the night?  Had director Abell fleshed that out some more, brought those characters into focus, and made his 'twentysomethings lost in the woods’ an effective B-Story, then Souls may’ve had the chance to achieve at least cult status.
 
But as it is?  It feels mostly just abandoned.
 
Unfortunately, I can’t say who produced Abandoned Souls as I’ve been unable to locate any information online pertaining to it (IMDB.com surprisingly has no substantive information regarding it).  DVD distribution is being handled by Maverick Entertainment Group.  As for the technical specifications, the film looks and sounds about as well as most independent horror schlock does these days, but the sound engineers could’ve used a refresher course in how to properly ‘mike’ several scenes.  (Also, there’s one sequence where the cinematographer or director completely substituted a completely different film stock because colors changed jarringly dramatically, and that’s never a good thing.)  The DVD screener I was provided had no available features, so I can’t speak to whether or not the consumer product will have any.
 
(Mildly) recommended.
 
There’s an audience out there somewhere for films like Abandoned Souls mostly because they keep getting made.  This isn’t to say that it’s entirely a disappointment; there’s a nice central performance from Vicki Rivard, and clearly some thought went into Abell’s script.  Methinks Abell was too close to all the action as the director and writer to see the inherent weaknesses of the entire project, and that ends up being the picture’s biggest Achilles’ Heel.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Maverick Entertainment Group provided me with a DVD screener copy by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.

​-- EZ