So many movies ... so little time ...

On this day in 1987 (in the U.S.), Freddy Krueger was back in the business of terrorizing America's youth when A Nightmare On Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors was released in theaters.  Directed by Chuck Russell from a story by Wes Craven and Bruce Wagner, the film starred Robert Englund, Heather Langenkamp, Craig Wasson, and others. 

According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:

"A psychiatrist, familiar with the knife-wielding dream demon Freddy Krueger, helps teens at a mental hospital battle the killer who is invading their dreams."

For the record:
At the 1988 Saturn Awards, A Nightmare On Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors received nominations in the categories of 'Best Make-Up,' 'Best Supporting Actor,' and 'Best Horror Film.'

-- 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 the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A group of friends travel for a weekend away to an isolated cabin in the woods to shoot an experimental horror movie. Slowly the film begins to unravel, and we see the true monster appear from the shadows. The director.”
 
I’ve mentioned before – much to the chagrin of a significant portion of the SciFiHistory.Net readership – that I’m a fan of the whole ‘found footage format’ of storytelling.
 
Yes, yes, and yes: I hear you.  I realize that – to some degree – it’s been done to death.  Any auteur with a video camera or a Smartphone can throw one together over a weekend.  Naturally, the results will vary, but – from my limited perspective – these stories might just be the last bastion of truly original yarnspinning on affordable budgets.  They have their own DNA – some of its obviously ‘junk DNA,’ if you catch my meaning – and they’re arguably not for everyone.  That being said, if you’re entirely uninterested in knowing more about yet one more of these entries, feel free to turn and run at this juncture.
 
For those of you still reading (and thank you for doing so), Anacoreta (2022) is a bit of a puzzle critically, narratively, and experimentally.  Writer/director Jeremy Schuetze (who also headlines the piece) plays Jeremy – an emerging screenwriter and director – who can’t quite seem to catch a break in the process of building a kinda/sorta ‘found footage’ film entirely of his own.  But being the resilient soul that he is, Jeremy drags his girlfriend Antonia (played by Antonia Thomas) and pals Matt (Matt Visser) and Jesse (Jesse Stanley) along with a few others into the great American frontier for a weekend of guerilla filmmaking … the kind where there’s really no script but an amalgam of ideas loosely strung together around a premise (not a plot).
 
As the dirty little secret to the subgenre is nothing is as it seems nor will it function without innumerable plot twists, Anacoreta sadly unfolds in the same kinda/sorta loopy, nebulous, and predictable format.  Jeremy’s penchant for not sharing production details with the cast leads to a few easy surprises, giving a few of the film’s earlier scenes a modest bit of the usual but necessary nightmare fuel.  Sadly, there just isn’t enough serious momentum to any of his/their shenanigans, and Anacoreta can’t quite salvage any big scares on its limited budget with the otherwise workable Folk Horror concept of its second half.
 
Making matters worse, Schuetze hasn’t really even built a legitimate ‘found footage film’ to begin with.  While that’s how it’s advertised and clearly hums in a few sequences, the fragile reality that everything one sees is entirely manufactured cannot be escaped.  For example, no one ever (ever!) takes of their individual microphones, meaning that the audience can hear them clearly whether or not they’re a hundred meters away or even on the other side of a closed door or window.  A few scenes are even backed with theme music; and – apologies, folks – that defies the whole ‘found footage’ construct.  Because the flick never separates itself from the feeling of a studio shoot, it grows increasingly clear that what he and his conspirators are attempting isn’t some theatrical discovery after the team’s demise but a work of pure fiction … a kinda/sorta film within a film within a film.
 
Indeed, when Anacoreta reaches its fever pitch, there’s barely any realistic ‘found footage’ in here, and there’s even less Horror.  What there is are pieces of each type of story, but they’re so predictably strung together I can’t imagine anyone falling for the ruse at any point on the shared journey.  The characters themselves aren’t unique enough to warrant anything particularly explosive either: each is rather plainly drawn to serve the assembly instead of serving the story on any emotional level, so audiences end up spending about ninety minutes with the blandest road trip ever, never getting to the big scary reveal one shows up expecting from this kind of fare.
 
Lastly, it’s worth noting that – according to IMDB.com – the film was completed in 2022 (the site indicates it made a festival appearance) but appears to have languished in obscurity until 2026.  That curious fact alone suggests that maybe the effort just wasn’t significant enough to land any major distribution deal (until the present when streamers are constantly searching for new content); and it kinda/sorta suggests that – ahem – maybe this one is a bit sub-standard.  Granted, found footage projects aren’t exactly hot properties these days; and the fact that this one both is and isn’t a chiller or thriller on any conceivable level underscores that those heading in expecting something special are likely to be disappointed … to say the least.
 
Anacoreta (2022) was produced by FilmHub.  A quick search of Google.com indicates that the film is available via a variety of streaming sources.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I can assure you that writer/director fashioned this effort as a ‘found footage’ type; and, sadly, he mimics mostly the weaknesses of that subgenre throughout with the singular exception (a dead giveaway, too) of constantly ‘miking up’ the participants.  As such, it never quite feels at all like found footage, and that’s something everyone should keep in mind while watching.  (Hint: it may not be.)  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Because I viewed this one via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
 
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
 
While my problems with Anacoreta (2022) are myriad, my disapproval of it boils down to the fact that not only is it most patently not a ‘found footage film’ (as producers advertised) but also it really offer the slim pickings of an actual story.  Its characters are dimensionless clones that we’ve all seen elsewhere (and performed better); and its constantly shifting focus from one to the next makes it difficult to appreciate much less care about this odd journey they seemingly find themselves wrapped up in.  Lastly, it isn’t even an authentic Horror flick – which, again, is what many of us went in expecting – making me feel like everyone involved knew full well they’d have to dupe potential viewers into accepting what they made … not unlike the tale’s budding filmmaker’s best efforts.  At best, it’s a theatrical parlor trick, the kind that gets celebrated at festivals but never finds mass appeal.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at FilmHub provided me with complimentary streaming access to Anacoreta (2022) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

Let me tell you a tale of two generations ...

For one group -- namely, the one I'm a part of -- actor Robert Carradine is likely best known as a comic actor who truly came into his own with a role aboard 1984's box office hit Revenge Of The Nerds, a college-based comedy about a group of social misfits who turn the tables on the institutional Greek scene.  It was an Intellectual Property popular enough to warrant a sequel or two, but nothing matched the power of the original.

For another group -- one I sometimes struggle to relate to, as do a good number of my peers -- Carradine is best known as the screen father to none other than Lizzie McGuire (aka Hilary Duff), a tween who spent her formative years navigating those treacherous waters of fashion and friendship.

You see, this is what always impresses me about our shared cultures: a great talent can not only be known and appreciated by young and old but also he can mean things on a personal level to entirely different generations of the audience.  Granted, I can't even begin to educate my readership on anything other than a Google.com summary of All Things Lizzie McGuire, and yet I'm still happy to point out that they -- like me and my generation -- formed a bond with a creative that transcends our age differences.  That's always fascinating.

The truth is that -- across his storied career -- Carradine was definitely someone to watch in the realms of the Fantastic.  While never, perhaps, having any big, breakout performance in anything entirely devoted to Science Fiction, Fantasy, or Horror, he still manages to rack up a good amount of screen time doing what he did as only he could.  A rundown of the enterprises he can seen aboard includes:
​

• Massacre At Central High (1976)
• Orca (1977)
• Wavelength (1983)
• Alfred Hitchcock Presents
• The Twilight Zone
• Faerie Tale Theatre
• I Saw What You Did (1988)
• ​Clarence (1990)
• The Tommyknockers
• Body Bags (1993)
• Lois & Clark: The New Adventures Of Superman
• Escape From L.A. (1996)
• Humanoids From The Deep (1996)
• Dark Skies
• The Pretender
• Scorpio One (1998)
• The Effects Of Magic (1998)
• Lycanthrope (1999)
• The Kid With X-Ray Eyes (1999)
• Ghosts Of Mars (2001)
• Timecop: The Berlin Decision (2003)
• Attack Of The Sabertooth (2005)
• Hoboken Hollow (2006)
• Monster Night (2006)
• Tooth And Nail (2007)
• The 13th Alley (2008)
• The Terror Experiment (2010)
• Slumber Party Slaughter (2012)
• Sharktopus Vs Pteracuda (2014)
• Doomsday Device (2017)
• Human Zoo (2020)
• Medinah
• Skate To Hell (2026)

Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Robert Carradine.

May he rest in peace.

​-- 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 the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A ‘Man From the Future’ arrives at a diner in Los Angeles where he must recruit the precise combination of disgruntled patrons to join him on a one-night quest to save the world from the terminal threat of a rogue artificial intelligence.”
 
The sad truth of genre entertainment is that many of the truly best Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror pictures don’t quite get the recognition they’re owed in their proper time and place.
 
Productions like 1982’s Blade Runner failed to produce significant ticket sales when it was originally slotted into theater schedules; but now – decades later – the film is regarded as damn near a cornerstone of Science Fiction storytelling.  The same could be said of John Carpenter’s The Thing, another 1982 release that failed to inspire much passion with its theatrical outing but continues to earn fans and accolades each and every time its discovered (or re-discovered) since.  1990’s Tremors – a flick often regarded as a personal favorite to a great many genre fans – largely came-and-went from the multiplexes, but it’s release on home video spawned an entire B-Movie franchise that chugs and chugs onward like the little engine that could.  Granted, this doesn’t happen for every entry to bears a passing resemblance to these kinds of stories, but it happens often enough in the realms of the Fantastic that it deserves being mentioned when well-made entries escape tickling society’s collective fancy in the here and now.
 
Such might be the eventual outcome to 2025’s Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die.  Directed by the critically-acclaimed Gore Verbinski from a story by Matthew Robinson (the screenwriter behind 2020’s overlooked Love And Monsters), the film stars the always-watchable Sam Rockwell in the role of ‘The Man From The Future’ – we’ll call him FutureMan going forward – as a soldier sent back in time to the point wherein specialists determined the birth of Artificial Intelligence set our world into a decades-long death spiral.  Needing to have a small army of soldiers to essentially aid him in getting from Point A (a diner) to Point B (a suburban home a few blocks away) so that he can insert a flash drive of appropriate safety measures into the system to save mankind from its worst technological impulses.  (Nothing but nothing is going to stop us from inventing A.I., don’t you know?)
 
Thankfully, Good Luck explores everything – its ideas, its construct, and its characters – with a humorous and often satiric tone.  Verbinski’s film depicts the current generation of youth as iPhones-obsessed zombies who can’t part themselves from their smartphones to save a life, and it’s here wherein Robinson’s script becomes immediately relatable, especially for folks who might now exactly buy-in to the whole SciFi/Fantasy premise.  Juxtaposing fantastical and fringe science (like time travel) against technology of the day is a tactic that rather subversively reminds skeptics to not overthink their biases: after all, yesterday’s Star Trek communicator was little more than today’s iPhone, separated only by a few years, so it isn’t entirely implausible to suggest that the invention of social media is just the first step toward the zombification of an entire generation.  This is the territory in which Good Luck excels – especially in its first half – though the tale turns a bit more conventional (and maybe even mildly bloated) once FutureMan and his few survivors come face-to-face with the phantom menace in the final reel.  The world both is and isn’t saved – another noteworthy distinction between what Good Luck does with the idea of time travel – but there’s still a resolution that suggests the best is yet to come.  Maybe.
 
To his credit, Rockwell shines in the role, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders in each and every scene.  Dare I say this is perhaps the part he was born to play?  As an actor, the guy manages the kind of comic intensity rarely seen any longer on the silver screen; and, personally, I think it’s a crying shame we haven’t seen the guy in vastly more comedies than he’s headlined.  Verbinski and Robinson were smart in surrounding him with a talented ensemble – each with some part in this trip toward redemption – but I’m hesitant to say much more because I’d rather not spoil those surprises best learned on their own.  Suffice it to say, Haley Lu Richardson’s Ingrid (aka Princess) is another delight, proving she’s a talent still evolving into something special when the right material presents itself.
 
For what it’s worth, I’ve read an incessant amount of online commentary comparing Good Luck to 1993’s Groundhog Day, so much so that I feel the need to sound-off on the issue.
 
For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure, Groundhog Day takes the overtly self-centered weatherman Phil Connors (Bill Murray) and imprisons him in a time-loop that forces him to relive a twenty-four-hour period over and over (and over!) again until he finally lives a day ‘getting it right.’  The joy of the picture is experiencing this pervasiveness of Connors’ successes and failures as he tries to deduce precisely what combination of deeds – good or bad – that’ll inevitably release him from his existential prison sentence.  It’s a sometimes manic, sometimes funny, sometimes heart-wrenching construct; and the experience was so highly regarded that in 2006 it was inducted into the U.S.’s National Film Registry, that organization that attempts to preserve stories that have demonstrated some ongoing artistic merit.
 
Now, Good Luck only circumstantially aligns with Groundhog Day and isn’t – as some have suggested – is a variation on that theme.  Yes, the story posits that its unnamed time-traveler has found himself trapped in a time loop not unlike Murray’s famous weatherman; but we – as the audience – aren’t taken on any ‘road movie’ through those experiences.  At best, there might be some occasional glimpse which surfaces as one of Rockwell’s memories of those efforts; but, otherwise, his encounter unfolds as an entirely original concern.  Like Murray, Rockwell’s intent is to finally set things right; but even when Good Luck concludes that hasn’t quite taken place, giving the feature a vastly different feel – more sobering, in fact – than its 1993 predecessor.
 
That’s not a complaint.  It’s only a clarification for those thinking the pictures are two sides of the same coin.  I strongly disagree, and I felt it necessary to explain.
 
Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die (2025) was produced by 3 Arts Entertainment, Blind Wink Productions, Constantin Film, Robert Kulzer Productions, and WAM Films.  According to a quick search of Google.com, the film is presently in wide theatrical release across the U.S.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert and I viewed this one via streaming, I can still assure readers that the provided sights and sounds are exceptional: not unlike a fair number of genre entries, a few of the effects sequences might not be exactly ILM-quality but that’s because there’s an inherent charm kinda/sorta ‘baked in’ to a few comic bits.  (In other words, they’re somewhat tongue-in-cheek, given the subject matter.  Don’t overthink it.)  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Alas, I viewed this one entirely via streaming, so there were no special features under consideration.
 
Strongly Recommended, but …
 
While this may not come to pass, my humble and learned critical opinion is that Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die (2025) will most likely join that growing list of Science Fiction and Fantasy films that will fail to find an audience in its original theatrical run but most deservedly might find long life amongst a growing cult crowd that finds it entirely on their own somewhere down the road.  Chiefly, methinks this is because its general idea – that of mixing a kinda/sorta time travel Comedy with satirical social commentary – rarely translates well for mass consumption and needs to percolate across the movie-going generations to be truly appreciated for what it accomplishes.  Quirky.  Original.  Relevant (especially for today’s social media driven youth).  Definitely worth a view even though it’s a bit overlong.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Briarcliff Entertainment provided me with complimentary streaming access to Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die (2025) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

So many movies ... so little time ...

On this day in 1992 (in the U.S.), The Eye Of Satan was first opened ... well ... opened as in 'opened' with its very first home video release.  Directed by David Kent-Watson from a story by Cliff Twemlow, the film starred Twemlow alongside Ginette Gray, Max Beesley Snr, Brett Sinclair, and others. 

According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:

"A hit-man is assigned to protect the daughter of a local gangster after her life is threatened by a rival organisation. When the hit-man is double-crossed by his employers he wreaks a violent supernatural revenge."

-- EZ

Believe it or not, the 1970’s were a strange and wondrous time for cinematic Science Fiction and Fantasy.
 
For those who missed it, the genre was evolving, almost at warp speed.  The late 1960’s had shown the industry and its audience that there was a market for serious subjects within a category that had only years before been predicated on radioactively-enhanced insects, goofy spaceships soaring against obvious studio backdrops, and rubber-masked aliens invading Earth for whatever purpose.  Gene Roddenberry’s Star Trek (1965-1968) showed that the classic morality play fit comfortably within the rubric of exploring strange new worlds.  Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) proved that special effects and storytelling could be joined at the hip with big ideas and even bigger execution.  And Twentieth Century Fox’s Planet Of The Apes (1968) served up themes both socially relevant and relatable in a construct that audiences readily embraced without being required to think too deeply about any of it.
 
It’s this foundation that pushed storytellers to wade even deeper into what would’ve only years earlier had been considered treacherous waters.  1971’s The Andromeda Strain melded meaty concepts – i.e. a spaceborne virus threatening mankind, cutting-edge science serving as our only potential salvation – into a picture that drew the attention of both the Academy Awards and the Hugo Awards, organizations that had previously only sparingly seen eye-to-eye.  1972’s Silent Running plumbed the depths of just how fragile our environment might be while examining the lengths one man might go to save it.  And 1973’s Soylent Green became one of the bleakest Dystopian tales of theatrical record, pitting a lone New York City detective against a conspiracy covering up how far the global elite might go to maintain civil order.
 
It should come as no surprise that Michael Crichton’s Westworld (1973) came to life in this era blending science fact with reality.  While some might suggest that the thriller is a bit of a narrative throwback to the days when SciFi and Fantasy resembled carnival rides more than they did college theses, there’s still no denying that writer/director Crichton had some serious things to say about our civilization’s growing dependency on technology while ignoring the fact that we, culturally, were also dragging our deep-seated weaknesses with us along for the ride.  In the picture, he creates a veritable Disneyland where men and women could indulge in their sanest, sincerest, and sickest fantasies seemingly without consequence, only to have those ticket buyers eventually reminded that nothing (but nothing) in life ever comes for free.  In fact, the price might be one’s mortal soul.
 
(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 robot malfunction creates havoc and terror for unsuspecting vacationers at a futuristic, adult-themed amusement park.”
 
Best buds Peter Martin (played by Richard Benjamin) and John Blane (James Brolin) are seeking an escape from their daily lives; and Westworld – a place where Blane has been before – certainly more than suffices.  Instead of the usual diversions, Westworld – and its sister Delos environments of RomanWorld and MedievalWorld – grants vacationers the opportunity to indulge in pure Fantasy by transporting them – with new identities – to other times and other places.  Once there, parkgoers have free reign to engage in whatever level of morality or debauchery they choose … with a bit of fun-spirited wickedness generally being allowed to rule the day.  As gunslingers, Martin and Blane set their sights on gunplay, fisticuffs, and soiling more than a few of the lonesome doves who live and work upstairs in the city saloon.
 
Meanwhile … behind the curtain …
 
Delos Parks’ supervisor (Alan Oppenheimer) and his fellow lab-coated science nerds find themselves in the midst of a quandary: the robots have slowly begun breaking out of their regularly scheduled programming, showing signs suggesting that some computer virus may have given these automatons much more free will than was ever intended.  One by one, the system failures begin to mount.  When a fetching palace servant Daphne (Anne Randall) suddenly resists the lecherous carnal advances of a paying customer, the supervisor realizes that these malfunctions pose greater risk than first theorized.  However, before he can convince his counterparts that all systems should be taken offline, chaos ensues when Westworld’s resident gunslinger (Yul Brynner) decides he’s lost one too many shootouts and attempts to extract vengeance on the nebbish Martin.
 
To Crichton’s credit (and genius), Westworld is arguably one of the most relatable SciFi-themed catastrophes ever brought to film; and his construct of having creations turn on the creator is a proven formula that he revisits again – in book format – with his 1990 novel “Jurassic Park.”  (Yes, it was rather famously been adapted for the screen by Steven Spielberg in 1993.)  Biblical parallels aside, we – as a species – remain imperfect; as such, damn near anything we create is going to bring these imperfections along, especially when we give them human (much less dinosaur) shape.  Essentially, audiences likely go in with full knowledge that these animatronic inventions are little more than ticking time bombs waiting to explode; so there’s plenty of understandable tension in waiting patiently for Hell to break loose.  It does, and – despite the fact that everyone knew it was coming – the results are stark, nonetheless.
 
Furthermore, Crichton deserves praise for serving up characters whose personalities are equally easy to access.  Benjamin’s Martin is that awkward fellow we’ve all known at some point in our lives, the kind endlessly befriended by others because he’s no threat nor wishes harm upon his fellow man.  In contrast, Brolin’s macho Blane looks the part of the typical screen hero: he bears chiseled good looks, speaks few words but keeps them full of confidence, and likely paired up with Martin in the outside world because he’s clearly no threat to his own masculinity.  Together, they make a likable pair, not quite the embodiment of epic cowboys though both appear willing to indulge in one of their earliest boy fantasies.  Of the two, Martin is the least superficial; and yet even he finds himself wrapped up in the world of make believe to the point of surrendering his own moral code when the lovely Arlette (Linda Gaye Scott) wants nothing more than an inconsequential ‘roll in the hay.’
 
While Westworld remains incredible lean in its running time, Crichton debatably indulges himself in one too many pratfalls not long after the film’s midpoint: Martin and Blane’s last night in merriment descends into a hellacious bar fight, an event that frankly grinds the otherwise thoughtful story to a halt on behalf of chaotic lunacy.  Thematically, perhaps the writer/director wanted to show just how far off kilter the pursuit of personal paradise might take any person who purchases a ticket.  While that’s all well and good, there’s no escaping the fact that the sequence stretches on far longer than necessary: well after the point has been made, our two leads are still portrayed symbolically as boys swinging from the rafters when we were all well aware long ago that boys just wanna have fun.
 
Westworld (1973) was produced by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been handled by the fine folks at Arrow Films.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure readers that this film both looks and sounds absolutely incredible: it’s definitely an upgrade that makes the flick worth seeing, especially for those who may have never had the privilege.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  The disc boasts a good audio commentary (frankly, it’s a bit too off-topic for my tastes, exploring more of the MGM studio history than relates directly to the film) along with interviews, a fabulous critical essay, the pilot for the Beyond Westworld TV series, and a few other items.  It’s a wonderful assortment, as usual with Arrow Films.
 
Strongly Recommended.
 
As a tentpole SciFi film, Westworld (1973) suffers in small walls by allowing its characters to give in a bit too much to their most juvenile pursuits: the barfight (while a necessary Western trope) is far too comedic to be taken seriously, and Benjamin’s Peter Martin is bit too puritanical at times to be considered authentic.  Still, director Crichton rather efficiently keeps the picture moving so deftly most of the time that there’s little to no room for any of its trivial deficiencies to take root.  Though obviously imperfect, the theme park world – with its secret passages and hidden scientists playing God over their creations – still resonates as a cautionary warning decades after it was conceived.  “Be careful what you wish for,” it reminds viewers constantly, “or it, indeed, will be the death of you.”  Unlike what Kubrick did with 2001 or Schaffner achieved with Apes, Crichton quietly opens the door to tomorrow in order to prove such mass-produced pomp and circumstance is ultimately as empty and unfulfilling as it is dangerous.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of Westworld (1973) 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
​