(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:
“Concerned with population over-growth, the Earth government bans, under the penalty of death, all pregnancies but one couple decides to risk having a real baby rather than legally adopt a cyborg child.”
 
Now …
 
In Z.P.G.’s defense, I think it’s important to point out that the feature was both conceived and shot during a period of Science Fiction cinema wherein storytellers had a vested interest in weaving yarns they felt that society – as a whole – needed to hear.  Mankind was growing by leaps and bounds, and the sheer magnitude of these new people were allegedly already taxing our planet’s resources beyond their manageable limits; and Hollywood felt it their personal responsibility to inform their ‘cultural inferiors’ that changes were a’comin’ – whether they liked it or not – and if your average Tom, Dick and Harry didn’t toe the line then the whole world was in for an endless series of catastrophes that would spell doom for each and every one of us.
 
Sound familiar, you global warming enthusiasts?  And here you folks believed you were first to the party!
 
For example, 1971’s The Omega Man (Warner Bros., Boris Sagal directed) takes audiences to a time when a biological war has all but wiped-out civilization except for the vampire-like survivors living out their nights in pursuit of Robert Neville (played by Charlton Heston), one of our world’s last uncontaminated Earthlings.  This cult will stop at nothing to kill Neville because they believe this will ultimately give way to a new era, one wherein they will be at the top of the food chain.  1972’s Silent Running (Universal Pictures, Douglas Trumbull directed) portrayed a dire future wherein endless wars had all but destroyed our planet’s ecosystem, and the various governments of the world opted to preserve what flora they could aboard a series of greenhouse spaceships.  Bruce Dern played astronaut Freeman Lowell, a specialist who decides the plants are too good for us so he sets out to destroy the fleet rather than give his fellow man a second chance at survival.  1973’s Soylent Green (Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, Richard Fleischer directed) was, perhaps, one of the darkest yet: Detective Thorn (Charlton Heston again) inadvertently uncovers a conspiracy involving a powerful company providing food to our overpopulated society … but what that food is might very well be solving the population crisis without our knowledge!
​

There are others, but I think these three aptly demonstrate the trend within Science Fiction that pointed the finger squarely at every one of us: we were the cause of the world’s greatest ills, and if we didn’t get our appetites under control then extinction would be the necessary outcome.
 
Into this mix was introduced a 1968 best-seller – “The Population Bomb” by Paul R. Ehrlich – a popular yet wildly inaccurate prediction of just how quickly we were heading into this Apocalypse.  While I won’t get into the particulars of not just how wrong but how deeply wrong Ehrlich’s forecasts were, I think what matters most is that for a time his dire rhetoric filled just the right ears to actually give license to a modest measure of his suggested behavioral modifications.  Because he amply fueled a media sensation with his prognostications, director Michael Campus joined screenwriters Max Ehrlich and Frank De Felitta in bringing one interpretation of these visions to life for the silver screen.
 
Z.P.G. – Zero Population Growth postulates a future wherein manmade ills – gluttony, greed, lust, pollution, and you name it else – have left our world a shell of its former self.  Governments of the world have combined, forcing survivors into population centers wherein they can be properly managed and/or eliminated based on the willingness to abide by martial law.  Those willing to abide by the strictest requirements might even benefit from special exemptions, earning either more rations or a better home in exchange for subservience.  Yet – most of all – no births will be allowed … under the penalty of death for all those involved.  Father.  Mother.  And child.  No exceptions.
 
As you can imagine, this is a construct that makes for interesting drama as some would argue that it’s part and parcel of the human experience to create a legacy, whether this be a lasting reputation, some service to mankind, or starting a family.  Science has shown us that women have an innate need to birth and nurture children, and men participate in the act of rearing the child through adolescence into maturity.  Because of this biological need, the ‘WorldGov’ (as its called) has created a series of cybernetic children; couples wishing to apply might receive a robotic youngster to call their very own.  (Don’t worry: it’s equipped with a ‘bonding’ interface to give it that ‘real kid’ feel.)
​

After an obligatory set-up, this is exactly where ZPG begins: Russ (Oliver Reed) and Carol (Geraldine Chaplin) stand waiting in what seems an endless line to receive their government-sponsored childbot.  Once they get to the front, Carol sees the plastic robot for what it is – synthetic hair, doll eyes, and a mechanical gait and speech – and refuses to go through with it.  Her desire is for a real offspring – one grown inside her as an expression of her love for her husband – and she rushes from the establishment.  Russ quickly follows, and – though he’s a bit exasperated with her emotional outburst – he leads her back to their domicile.
 
As one might guess, Carol’s desire won’t be thwarted.  One night after coupling with her husband, she silently refuses the home’s abortion machine, and their dramatic nightmare begins.
 
Though ZPG toys with a few related ideas, the script eventually reaches a point wherein most of the action revolves around the secret newborn and the lengths our lead couple have to go to both keep it healthy and alive.  There’s a subplot involving their neighbors George and Edna (Don Gordon and Diane Cilento) who’ve also had the ‘baby itch’ and work to turn the tables of the new parents in order to abscond with the child as their own.  It backfires – to a degree, but I won’t spoil it – but sets the film on course for its last reel, one that explores just how far a family’s love might push them when the government state stands in the way of its very existence.
 
As a story, ZPG has probably bitten off just enough that it can effectively chew.  The script pretty much sticks to a single track, so the developing scenes all have their own necessity.  Director Campus makes solid use of some minimalist decor as well as the occasional crowd control, showing us a world that reminds us of where we were as well as projecting one possible road to our future.  A few sequences have a delicious claustrophobia to them, giving audiences the anticipation of the very walls slowly closing in on our two leads.  There’s a solid milieu established consistently in the picture; a lesser steward might’ve given way to a bit of excess but most of the scenes function on their own inherent effectiveness.  He definitely keeps things moving once the tale’s central conflict is introduced, but the flick does lag in a few places wherein Chaplin’s wanton gazes or Reed’s undefinable stares are given a bit too much screen exposure.
 
Still, I was a bit let down with its conclusion.
 
Given the circumstances of their ostracization, it’s entirely understandable why Russ and Carol (and baby makes three!) engage their final course of action.  This isn’t to suggest in any way that they had a lot of options; but fleeing into the great beyond – or what’s left of one – might’ve been the only authentic possibility to the world as they’ve come to know it.  Dare I suggest that it’s the easiest way out?  Where Campus ultimately deposits these characters, though, begs the question as to whether or not they’ll truly survive – one could even argue that there’s the hint of a sequel at play – and I thought audiences deserved a stronger answer, one that might’ve resounded with even a cheer rather than a whimper.
​

Alongside George Orwell’s 1984, I’d also argue that ZPG certainly shows the authentic fascist dangers of institutional overreach on the part of centralized government.  The characters who populate this world do so only with their full subservience to an unseen yet omnipresent overlord; this is one of cinema’s better depictions of a chief administration that no longer serves the individual but vice versa.  Authorities – even your family doctor – appear via massive television screens, and they speak in tones of power, severity, and finality.  (Carol’s visit with her personal physician regarding her unquenchable desire to have a baby is particularly chilling, aided by a brief but effective performance by Aubrey Woods as the not-so-nice physician.)  Aircraft hover over the city dispensing daily instruction to its citizens, telling them not only the how and why of their existence but also encouraging some to report on their neighbors’ unwillingness to comply with federal edicts.  You’ve heard of ‘see something, say something?’  This is that on steroids, and you just might earn your next meal ticket for ratting out your brother.
 
Dark times, indeed.
 
Z.P.G. – Zero Population Growth (1972) was produced by Sagittarius Productions, Inc.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) was coordinated by the good people at Kino Lorber.  As for the technical specifications?  This 2017 release doesn’t show that the sound and/or video were upgraded, so I’m working from the assumption that this was a standard release.  As for the special features?  Well, there’s an audio commentary track provided by film historian Steve Ryfle that’s definitely worth a listen.  Sadly, I didn’t think the track gave much information on this particular film so much as it tried to balance the expert’s reflections on Science Fiction of its era with recounting an awful lot of facts and figures related to the wider cast and crew.  It’s a good listen; I just don’t recall all that much being film specific.
 
Recommended.
 
Because so very much of Z.P.G. – Zero Population Growth’s overall aesthetic is decidedly dour, it’s the kind of experience that might be considered a one-timer.  Repeat watching – unless you’re really, really, really into this kind of thing – is negligible at best.  Still, I think the film rather efficiently makes use of its grim circumstances in enough small and palatable ways that it deserves to be discovered by fans of such flicks as Planet Of The Apes (1968), THX 1138 (1971), Silent Running (1972), and Logan’s Run (1976).  In fact, I thought the film thematically was very similar to Logan’s Run – it might even make a great double bill for enthusiasts who want to enjoy them back-to-back – except it doesn’t end with the same upbeat tone as does Run.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that this review was penned entirely as a result of my personal purchase of Z.P.G. – Zero Population Growth from Amazon.com (the 2017 Kino Lorber release).

​-- EZ

Zombies never go out of style. 
 
Sure, they may change from slow-moving zombies to fast-moving zombies, but the undead will always be the undead.  I guess you could say that – to borrow a phrase from fashion – zombies are the new black.  Where I don’t much care for the new wave of zombie features is that they don’t entirely respect the science behind the creation of these walking dead, and Zombie Massacre kinda/sorta jumps onto that bandwagon.  These zombies aren’t so much traditional zombies as they are ‘zombified’ monsters that share some of the typical characteristics of our beloved animated corpses.  That’s a’right, I suppose, because Massacre is the kind of flick that probably has a very short life span … much like any of its lumbering beasties heading face-first toward our well-armed heroes.
 
(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 …)
 
Some kind of military toxin gets loose from a secret Romanian government installation.  It’s absorbed into the air and, inevitably, produces a black rain that infects anything it touches.  Voila!  An entire Romanian city is gone (would that really be such a bad thing?), as its populace becomes ravaged by the manmade illness.  Of course, this is somehow a United States’ facility (???), which only implies that there’s bound to be some crooked military officers desperate to cover Uncle Sam’s arse, and that almost always involves mercenaries.
 
No expense is spared – well, this is a Uwe Boll production, after all, so some expense is spared – to hire the best: a Schwarzenegger wannabe named Jack Stone (played with little appeal or charisma by Christian Boeving) and a handful of others, including a samurai sword wielding chick (Tara Cardinal) only because samurai sword wielding chicks are hot, get dispatched to do the unthinkable: detonate an explosion that’ll nuke the dead city, thereby disposing of the dead and any incriminating evidence.
 
On that front, much of Zombie Massacre – written and directed by Marco Ristori and Luca Boni – is a respectable twist of the tried-and-true formula of employing soldiers of fortune to do a government’s bidding.  Sure, none of them can really act worth a damn; why they’re always shot in ridiculous close-ups denies a suitable narrative explanation; and the fact that the professional sniper appears really awkward and (dare I say?) unschooled in using a rifle are inconvenient truths even Al Gore could spot without the help of bloated science.  The problem – often the case with many of Boll’s low budget disasters – is that when you look too close you realize how little sense all of it makes.
 
Such as why is there a redneck vacationing in Romania?  Why is it that, after Stone orders his commandos to conserve ammo, they start firing willy-nilly into crowds of zombies blocks away?  Why hang so many unnecessary flashbacks on a story best told in present time?  What’s the deal with the tacked on coda featuring the most voluptuous zombie-women ever filmed?  And where in the Sam Hill did this Zombie King from the big finish come from?
 
Look, anyone who’s followed me even modestly will tell you that I have no problem with B movies.  I grew up on B movies.  Love ‘em.  Some of my favorite flicks happen to be B movies.  Zombie Massacre is the kind of film Michael Pare or even Jean-Claude Van Damme would’ve made in the late ‘80’s.  There’s nothing wrong with C-grade actors trying for B-movie sainthood.  But – next time – could someone at least put a bit more thought into it?
 
Zombie Massacre (2012) (aka Apocalypse Z) is produced by 1988 Games, Boll Kino Beteiligungs GmbH & Co. KG, Event Film Distribution, and Extreme Video Snc.  DVD distribution is being handled through Entertainment One (EOne).  As for the technical specifications, the picture looks and sounds pretty respectable, and – outside of the practical creature/monster/zombie effects – it’s all been assembled with the best Apps money can buy.  And, to its credit, the disc boasts a few special features, including a making-of featurette, some interesting storyboard comparisons, and the theatrical teaser and trailers: a nice package if you’re interested, but it won’t change the way you see the world of Uwe Boll.
 
(Mildly) Recommended … and I do mean “mildly.”
 
For a straight-to-DVD B movie, Zombie Massacre could’ve been an awful lot worse, and, realistically, it isn’t until the latter half that the wheels come off entirely when it seems like writer/directors Marco Ristori and Luca Boni threw away the script and started making it up as they went.  I’ve seen bad schlock, and this one honestly had a respectable chance to garner some modest praise (of which I’ve tried to provide), but, in the end, one man’s massacre is another man’s Uwe Boll production.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Entertainment One (EOne) provided me with a DVD copy of Zombie Massacre by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.

​-- EZ

​It’s been said that, in space, no one can hear you scream, and that’s probably a good thing.
 
When it comes to SciFi/Horror hybrids, it’s actually quite difficult to get the mix just right.  Too much of any one thing overwhelms the other half, and the end result often feels uneven.  More often than not, it ends up being one-sided, much more in favor of Horror than it is SciFi, and the mismatch kills the possibility for building an audience of any notable size.  Why is that?  Well, that’s probably because most hardcore SciFi fans aren’t as fond of Horror as they could, should, or would be … and I’ve been told the opposite is true as well.
 
On that point, Stranded tries very hard to walk that fine line, but, as you’ve probably already guessed if you’re here reading the review about it, I think it fails.  However, I don’t think it failed as badly as it could have – the end result is that all too often the film feels vastly derivative of other better works.  When you’re, say, “inspired” to do something in the vein of Ridley Scott’s Alien (1979) or John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982), that’s a great place to start.  If you’re not equipped to do that derivation justice, then maybe you should’ve hung it all up before you started.
 
(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 …)
 
The Ark Moonbase – under command of Colonel Gerard Brauchman (the increasingly forgettable Christian Slater, which is very, very sad) – finds itself cut off from all communications with Earth due to an unexpected meteor shower.  The four-man crew does what it can to save themselves, but when a vicious alien lifeform finds its way onto the station, they’ll risk life and limb to evacuate before becoming the beast’s dinner!
 
My initial problems with Stranded really do stem from what I’d have to call its cookie-cutter plot.  While I certainly can’t prove how Christian Piers Betley and Roger Christian wrote their film, I’m still inclined to believe that they approached it like a cook does a recipe: put in one dash of Alien (1979), put in two cups The Thing (1982), add just a dash of Sunshine (2007), and sprinkle it liberally with two teaspoons of Das Boot (1981) just for seasoning.  Everything – and I do mean everything – in here feels as though it was pieced together based entirely on their respective inspirations.  On the surface, one might conclude that, with all of those terrific flavors, they’d end up as a real winner.  Instead what director Christian delivers feels only half-baked.
 
I mean … did this project even have a science advisor?  I would honestly have to guess that – since there was science all over it – they should have.  Well, if they did, that advisor probably should be taken out and drawn-and-quartered for good measure as so very, very, very little of it makes even common sense, nor is much of it practical.  Things like “how is it they have gravity on a moonbase?” shouldn’t be just a passing fancy.  How is it that one astronaut/scientist visually detects a spore on the surface of a downed meteor when spores are commonly microscopic and require a certain amount of scientific examination … and then, in the next scene, the audience is shown that the spores are, in fact, inside the rock?  How did he see it on the outside, then?  And how is that fire burning inside the cargo bay that you just said has no air?  And when the station loses all power, how is it that the gravity and life support are sustained?  And why do the chairs on a moonbase – a fixed and immovable installation – have safety belts if you’ve visually established that they have gravity?
 
And don’t even get me started on the “massively accelerated space pregnancy” that the station’s physician detects!
 
In any event, Stranded may not be very smart, but what it does have is some nice elements.  For example, the special effects team delivered up some nice practical miniatures that serve as the space station and the lunar surface; despite being readily identifiable as miniatures, they’re still quite good.  Furthermore, the station’s interiors do feel largely claustrophobic, much like contemporary spacecraft and space station modules are.  Those are some nice touches, and no doubt they were made by folks who have an established appreciation for Science Fiction.  When you’re delivering cinema of this type on a budget, it pays for you to get a few things right; at the very least, Stranded did.
 
Stranded (2013) is produced by Gloucester Place Films, International Pictures Three, Minds Eye Entertainment, and Moving Pictures Media.  DVD distribution is being handled through RLJ Entertainment.  As for the technical specifications, the film looks and sounds mostly very solid – certainly as good as most direct-to-DVD releases go.  To my surprise, the disc does boast a few special features – nothing all that grand – but they’re worth a quick look: the ‘Making Of Stranded’ and ‘Life on the Moon: The FX of Stranded.’  They’re short, but they’re quite nice compared to some other special features I’ve had the misfortune of watching.
 
(Mildly) Recommended.
 
As I’m sure most will disagree with me, even the smallest, weirdest, and/or worst films can have some merit, and Stranded – despite a plethora of scientific, logistical, and narrative shortcomings – had a solid chance to be something greater than what it was.  From a nostalgia standpoint, I loved the fact that they used practical miniatures – damn near unheard of in science fiction these days – for the Ark Moonbase, and I thought the set direction was better-than-average with some nice claustrophobic moments captured within its interiors.  Otherwise, yes, it’s a mostly forgettable spin on material we’ve seen explored to vastly greater effect elsewhere.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at RLJ Entertainment provided me with a DVD copy of Stranded by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.

​-- EZ

​Where do I begin to discuss my admiration for Frankenstein (1931), the Universal Studios monster classic that in 1991 was selected for preservation in the United States Library Of Congress’ National Film Registry?
 
Sigh.
 
It’s a difficult prospect.  I can’t even begin to imagine when I first saw the picture or just how old I might’ve been.  In my youth, I scoured the weekly (freebie) TV broadcast schedule that came printed with our local newspaper so that way I’d know reasonably in advance when any Science Fiction, Fantasy, and/or Horror films were airing.  Given that this was well before the advent of home video recorders, I’d even circle an upcoming movie (in pen, no less), and I’d check and recheck the guide regularly.  Also, as these movies were edited for television, I wasn’t even aware that I’d never even seen Frankenstein in its entirety.  Years later, I remember watching it on VHS and realizing that the film had so many smaller bits and pieces I’d never seen, and this is why I’m forever grateful that film companies and distributors have gone to great pains to re-release these classic movies with so many wonderful special features.  Fans like me can never get enough of that extra content, and I’ll go to my grave forever jealous of just how lucky you young Turks these days are but don’t know it.
 
In any event …
 
Having something to say about Frankenstein isn’t even a subject I approach easily.  It’s the kind of project that has been written about since its inception and up through today.  As an intellectual property, Frankenstein continues to both move and shake storytellers who either wish to re-interpret for the modern age or entirely re-invent it with their own narrative spin.  While there are there are countless imitators, there’s really only one true original, so bear with me as I organize my thoughts around one of the seminal viewing experiences of my youth.  I’ll try to tell you why a picture nearly one hundred years old today still deserves your undivided attention.
 
(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:
“Dr. Frankenstein dares to tamper with life and death by creating a human monster out of lifeless body parts.”
 

It’s both been long written and accepted by many ‘in the know’ that Universal Pictures’ Frankenstein was – quite possibly – once of the first authentic Science Fiction films on record.  In fact, the novel upon which the film was ultimately based – Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein – is likewise considered one of the very first authentic Science Fiction novels.  Some fans might argue that the property is closer to Fantasy if not even outright Horror, but I prefer to avoid splitting hairs: I’ll accept the premise that the depicted science of bringing life to lifelessness deserves to be considered SciFi.  Certainly, one cannot remove “the science” from the story as presented and still have a tale that could stand on its own, so those parameters do make perfect sense.
 
Still, a film is only as good an experience as are the – snicker snicker – sum of its own parts; and – in that respect – I think Frankenstein still rises to the occasion.
 
From what I’ve come to know, its screenplay – chiefly attributed to Peggy Webling, Garrett Fort, and Francis Edward Faragoh – is actually an adaptation that combines characters, elements, and circumstances from multiple stage play incarnations all stemming from the original Shelley novel.  (While I’ll admit that I’ve not yet read the book, I’ve been told that the story is vastly different from many of the theatrical interpretations.)  As a story, it certainly gives each of the main players – Henry Frankenstein, Elizabeth, Victor Moritz, and The Monster – their respective set of characteristics and motivations; and it rather deftly pits them all against one another in big ways and small from start-to-finish.  Curiously, Baron Frankenstein (as played by Frederick Kerr) enjoys a good amount of screen time, is a likeable enough blowhard, and makes the most of his scenes only then to completely disappear from the film during its second half.  (Yes, yes, yes: he does show up briefly in the very last scene of the picture, but one would think he would’ve been shown either during the pre-wedding sequences or the town’s call-to-action once the threat of The Monster is very real.)  So – while not perfect – it’s a fabulously lean-and-mean 70-minute adventure that delivers on its every promise.
 
Director James Whale – who originally passed on the project for reasons I’ve not satisfactorily verified – does a masterful job staging the bulk of the monstrous affair.  He rather deftly keeps the picture unfolding on a fairly even keel, giving balanced amounts of division between spectacle and subtlety.  In fact, he stages a few scenes artistically so that the camera can pan through multiple rooms on a single pass, following the characters as they both move through the action as either tension mounts or development necessitate.  He definitely tackled several scenes with specific goals in mind, be it mesmerizing audiences with the fantastic spread of Frankenstein’s laboratory set (the rise of the gurney through the ceiling skylight) or The Monster’s very first full body reveal (having him back through the door and turn).  I think he proved without question that he approached the subject matter with the proper measure of seriousness but wasn’t above throwing in something light (for visual comedy) in the right context.
 
As for the players?
​

Mae Clarke plays Elizabeth – Frankenstein’s betrothed for reasons that aren’t quite clear – and she delivers her lines of dialogue very stylistically similar to what was being done in the era.  There’s a somewhat pronounced bit of melodrama – typically attached to the women – and she certainly works what emotion she can into every captured moment.  The script very lightly develops a love triangle between her, Henry, and Victor – a family friend – but it never wallows in that territory the way so many other pictures do.  A scene or two that might’ve more deeply followed up on the circumstances and her recovery from attack by The Monster would’ve been nice, but – alas – it just wasn’t meant to be.
 
Colin Clive plays Henry Frankenstein – not ‘Victor Frankenstein,’ as many other incarnations have written – and clearly his best moments are in the first half of the picture.  In the guise of the man who would eventually come to know how God felt (in creating life), he gives a pretty commanding performance.  Once he’s accomplished the unimaginable, the script even gives the actor a scene where he can kinda/sorta wax on the mindset necessary to achieve great results – the daring, the boldness – and in Clive’s hands it feels as if he’s both pleased if not a bit shocked with what he’s done.  Since he spends the latter half of the picture chasing down his creation only to find himself being pummeled by it, there just isn’t as much substance in it for the actor to do much other than go with the flow.
 
Saving the best for last, genre legend Boris Karloff is truly the steward who made so very much of this work.  Without his talents being fully centered under the makeup and in the limelight here, I’m not so sure that Frankenstein – as a picture – would’ve endured as long as it has.  Some moments, there’s a vacancy behind his eyes – when the creature has yet to form his thoughts clearly and is merely responding to commands like a trained pet – and others are lit up with an animal frenzy.  While the script kinda/sorta stacks the deck against him (the whole idea of the abnormal brain is not something part and parcel of the original novel), Karloff perseveres through the good, the bad, and the ugly, always staying true to the demands of the scene.  Audiences might’ve felt sorry for him – up to a point – and that’s owed to the man’s abilities to convey a limited set of emotions while all the while looking like something spawned by the dark arts.
 
Frankenstein (1931) was produced by Universal Pictures.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by Universal Studios.  I viewed the film as part of their Frankenstein: Complete Legacy Collection released in 2016.
 
Highest recommendation possible.
 
While I’d stop short of calling Frankenstein the perfect film, I’d still happily call it a pretty damn near perfect viewing experience.  Though its run time is a bit short, I think the film still moves at a appreciable pace, one that gives the principle players just enough time to hit their marks and maybe even spend a few wonderful moments talking about life as they know it against the backdrop of evolving Horror.  Of course, the real magic starts when The Monster arrives, and anyone who considers himself (or herself) a fan of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and/or Horror deserves to experience the feature uncut as Universal Pictures (and God himself, maybe) intended.

​-- EZ

​Stuart Gordon’s Re-Animator is one of those rare films I’ve taken over thirty years to have something to finally say about it.
 
I first saw the thing all the way back in the great 1980’s, and – though I could be wrong about the location – I’m pretty sure it was at a college friend’s home where I stayed over school break.  If I remember correctly, it had come out on home video (VHS) fairly recently, and one of the clerks in the corner video store strongly recommended it to us when we were searching for something different.  We took the suggestion, and – again, I may have the particulars a bit off here – I’m pretty certain we sat through it not once but twice.  That’s what young minds used to do back in the day, folks, when there was absolutely nothing else within thirty miles of desolate farmland for entertainment – we watched things twice.
 
As I recall, my buddy loved the thing through and through, but I was a bit guarded.  I recall having a whole lot of questions the first time the screen faded to black.  While the picture clearly had a great mash-up of ideas – both gratuitous and cerebral – there was still something that kept me from warmly embracing it.  I agreed it was likely going to become a huge, huge, huge cult hit (which it most definitely has), but I argued that those who liked to think a bit more about stories would stumble over its storytelling deficiencies here and there.  However, we both liked it enough to rent it once more for its screening at our fraternity house once school resumed … and, yes, it had just the right appeal for a college-aged audience to moan and groan over in the proper measure.
 
Still, it was a picture that stuck in the back of my mind as the years went by.  I’d stumble across references to it in my reading on films, and I definitely kept an eye out for the subsequent projects of writer/director Stuart Gordon, actor Jeffrey Combs, and scream queen Barbara Crampton.  Yes, their involvement in other properties encouraged me to pick up and watch something that otherwise wouldn’t have appealed to me, and the respect I hold for each of them has finally prompted me to sit down and pen a reflection on my first experience with them.

(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:
“After an odd new medical student arrives on campus, a dedicated local and his girlfriend become involved in bizarre experiments centering around the re-animation of dead tissue.”
 
Folks, it goes without saying that I’ve always (always!) been afflicted with a singular curse: I think too much about stories.
 
As one who has dabbled quite a bit in the weaving of my own fictional tapestries, I’ve always gone to great pains to try to make absolutely certain that every piece within a broader tale makes sense.  A story is, mostly, the assembly of pieces; and – like anything disassembled – it can be put together a variety of ways.  For me, each component should have a time and a place.  It should be given the proper amount of attention needed in order to establish both its existence and, ultimately, its purpose; and when these various fragments aren’t clearly defined for the audience the resulting confusion is owed to an inferior storyteller.
 
This isn’t a complaint.  It’s a fact.  Everything in any given story both has and should make sense.  If it doesn’t, then it’s either a distraction or unnecessary … and it should go.
 
For a number of reasons, there have been multiple edits of Re-Animator over the years.  Chiefly, this is owed to the fact that – early in its release – there were rated and unrated prints (anyone interested can do a bit of research to know more about this, and the Arrow Films release discusses it in solid detail).  I’ve no way of knowing with absolute certainty which incarnation of the flick I saw back in the great 1980’s, but I can say it’s a bit different from the one I’ve seen recently.  Both do have similar narrative problems (as I see it), so I do feel a bit vindicated in confessing my reasons for not fully embracing all of its magic decades later.
​

As I mentioned in my intro, I found Re-Animator a bit confusing at first blush.  Events both happened and things were said by various characters in the film that didn’t quite make sense.  While I’ll refrain from a full accounting of unanswered bits, I can’t help but write down a few of them.  Like … what’s with Dr. Hans Gruber’s exploding eyes?  What could possibly have caused that?  Like … why is third year medical student Dan Cain (played by Bruce Abbott) so creeped out in dealing with dead bodies?  Hasn’t he seen any before?  Like … why would a hospital morgue both have a security guard and a freezer that locks from the inside?  Did anyone think that the bodies were going anywhere?  Like … if Herbert West’s singular reagent only works on the brain, why does he demonstrate it to Dr. Hill on cat tissue?  And … where in Holy Hell did Dr. Hill’s apparent psychic powers come from, and why do they work on some folks and not others?
 
All right, haters.  Calm down.  I never said I disliked the movie because that would be far from the truth.  I find so very much of Re-Animator endearingly horrific, but – as I’ve already said – I do tend to think about story.  These questions – and there are many, many others, folks – are the kind of things that crept into my consciousness while watching this release only just yesterday (twice again!), and just as they percolated to the surface three decades ago they did so then.  Such glaringly obvious stumbling should’ve been cleaned up at some point … but I can say that – by partaking of Arrow’s special features – a good number of these queries were answered, meaning that perhaps my occasionally disjointed mind was correct in seizing upon them originally.
 
The differing cuts is only one of the guilty culprits, and director Gordon explains both in the commentary track as well as the accompanying documentary on the film’s making that Dr. Hill (David Gale) had been experimenting with perfecting mind control.  That one admission cleared up a great number of the shortcomings involving both his characterization as well as the entire zombie-fueled big finish (and it is a big finish); and I can’t believe that so many suggestions were actually left in the original film.  There were enough indications to warrant the genius had some kind of hidden ability, and I think it was a huge disservice to audiences that some explanation – even one that could’ve been part of a quick reshoot – wasn’t provided.  It could’ve been small.  It could’ve been quick.  That one small tweak could’ve honestly worked wonders … at least for me.
 
Setting aside any of the other narrative hiccups, Re-Animator is still a visual treat, and I say this well into its fourth decade.
 
Abbott plays the flick’s ‘everyman’ with a good sense of humor.  He makes his and Megan’s relationship work to the point wherein the audience roots for the couple, hoping they can eventually iron out the complications keeping them apart.  I’d argue that the script perhaps weakened his resolve a bit too dramatically in a few spots, giving him a bout of shock when it all turns to blood a bit too quickly, but – as they say – it is what it is.
​

Crampton?  I think it’s safe to suggest that Re-Animator definitely put the actress on the figurative map.  Fans have flocked to watching both this film and From Beyond (1986) – Gordon’s follow-up but not a sequel – to behold both her physical and intellectual charms.  The woman oozes of not only sex appeal but also her innate ability to command a scene with convincing emotional weight.  She can be the victim or she can be the aggressor, and she knows how to handle damn near anything in between.  I’m also refreshed to see that she’s still in the Horror business, and I’m thrilled that her career has been earning the accolades she so much deserves.
 
And … where would cult and genre villains be without the skills of Jeffrey Combs?  Granted, he’ll likely never be employed as a babysitter, but the man possesses his own villainous charisma that can both be turned on/off in an instant or given the kind of layers a more dynamic premise/plot might require.  He’s been a part of so many projects throughout the years, and what I find so refreshing about his work is that even if he’s in a small role he never “phones it in.”  He’s always w-o-r-k-i-n-g.  He’s always emoting.  He's always giving audiences something to see – even if it’s in passing – and that’s admirable, to say the least.
 
Though he’s gone now, writer/director Gordon leaves behind an incredible resume that genre fans should continue exploring.  Re-Animator was his debut production, and its reception no doubt helped usher other opportunities his way in the years that followed.  He’s credited with crafting the story behind Walt Disney’s Honey, I Shrunk The Kids (1989) as well as directing such projects as Robot Jox (1989), Fortress (1992), Space Truckers (1996), and Dagon (2001).  If my words in this space accomplish nothing more than encouraging a few others to seek out and explore his work, then I’ve done my job … and that’d bring a smile to my face.
 
Re-Animator (1985) was produced by Empire Pictures and Re-animator Productions.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Video.
 
Highly recommended.
 
I’m glad that I went back and revisited Re-Animator all these years later.  While that first viewing so many years back wasn’t the perfect experience, the film still found some comfortable corner in my mind, took root, and continued to grow – entirely without my permission!  It stuck with me – the way some formative events do – and the revisitation helped me to finally resolve some questions lingering in those recesses of my gray matter.  And – if I do say so myself – this Arrow Video release is spectacular: while I’m usually no big fan of deleted scenes I’d encourage every single person reading this to watch these 20+ minutes excised from the final print as they do go a long way toward filling in several potholes and fleshing out the relationships between all of Re-animator’s central players.  Yes, yes, yes: I understand why they were cut … but seeing them demonstrates why some of the narrative unfolds a certain way, whether or not it all makes perfect sense. 

-- EZ

Now, for the record, I can appreciate a good and bloody Zombie comedy as much as the next horror fan.
 
The marketplace has been full of so many appreciable Zombie films for the last decade or so that I think it’s only fitting that a few Zombie ‘laughers’ have come out on television or in general release.  There’s absolutely nothing wrong with poking fun at the obvious conventions of the traditional Zombie story … but I think comedies work best when there’s one overriding comedic slant.  Pick a lane and stay in it.  Bobbing and weaving between styles gets frustrating, and it may have audiences running for the exits much earlier than expected.  When you drift between mainstream comedy to satire to farce to all-out Three Stooges-style lunacy, you’re really only asking for trouble as the only man who has ever pulled that off successfully (and lived to talk about it) remains the incomparable Mel Brooks.
 
Despite some unevenness in Zombieworld, I still managed to have some fun with it.  You might, too.
 
(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 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 product packaging:
“There is nowhere to hide … nowhere to run … the Zombie Apocalypse has come, and our world now belongs to the dead!  From Ireland, Canada, Australia, Europe and all over the U.S., the bone-chilling news reports tell the same gruesome tale – walking corpses terrorize and devour the living.  Only a few desperate humans find the courage to stand and fight for their last chance at survival.  But the hordes of undead keep coming, and there’s only one thing on the menu – us.”
 
Pay attention, folks, or else I figure a great many of you diehard Horror enthusiasts are likely to be really peeved: Zombieworld is not a Horror film.
 
I’m gonna repeat that: Zombieworld is not a Horror film.
 
Yes, like any Zombie movie, it has elements of Horror.  The workable DNA is clearly in place, but it isn’t meant to send shudders up your spine.  Make no mistake: this Zombieworld – much like Ruben Fleischer’s Zombieland (2009) with Woody Harrelson and Jesse Eisenberg – is meant to satirize the traditional Zombie genre.  Nothing in here is presented with the intent for you to keep a straight face … so as much as I’m doing my job making you aware of the above synopsis I’m also going to tell you to swallow it with a few grains of salt.  Yes, those far off lands of Ireland and Australia and the like do factor in the greater story – but the main idea behind all of this is that Zombieworld is best considered a series of interconnected short stories all linked together by a central newscast … and it’s that newscast that remains the film’s most predictable and least satisfying piece.
 
But the problems don’t quite stop there.
 
See, Zombieland – much like its smaller stories – are all over the map.  As a feature, it’s arguably directionless, save for the whole concept of poking fun at … well … zombies.  For example, one story might make it look like the Apocalypse has arrived … and imagine your confusion when you arrive at the next story, which features a regular ol’ mailman going about his daily task of – you guessed it – delivering the mail.  During the Apocalypse?  Well, it hasn’t quite happened in this story, if you follow.  It’s this kind of overall disconnect that causes more than a few narrative burps to folks like me – people who insist on watching even bad films closely.
 
Still, Zombieworld isn’t a bad film.  It is, nevertheless, wildly uneven.
 
The comic approach is used much in the same way it was tried previously in the cult flick, Amazon Women On The Moon (1987).  In that feature, audiences were treated to a narrator constant “switching channels,” and this basically delivered up a handful of shorter, less cohesive stories served up in stylized vignettes.  Zombieworld uses a similar construct – the film’s main character (if there is one) is a newscaster struggling to keep his humanity while slowly succumbing to the obvious bite on his neck as these stories progress.  But the script (as the way it’s built here) would have you believe that there was a news team present back in the days when Christ first raised the dead, and – while that may be a funny idea – it falls flat as a storytelling gimmick.
 
What does Zombieworld do well?
 
It keeps switching gears, all for comedic effect, which can be as invigorating as it is mildly frustrating.  It keeps rushing forward even when one short sequence misses the mark.  And it dishes up some of the coolest, hippest, yet most laughable practical in-camera special effects since the days of Sam Raimi’s The Evil Dead (1981), Evil Dead II (1987), and Army Of Darkness (1992).  It gushes with buckets of blood when it wants to, and – on that front – Zombieworld has ‘cult’ written all over it … for better or for worse.
 
Zombieworld (2015) is produced by Dread Central Media and Ruthless Pictures.  DVD distribution is being coordinated by the reliable Image Entertainment and RLJ Entertainment.  As for the technical specifications?  The sound quality remained quite good throughout most of the run-time (100 minutes), and the picture maintained a relatively smart bit of cinematography despite the fact that its individual segments were handled by different directors.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, there’s a short film – “Marathon Apocalypse” – that basically includes some of the flick’s footage along with bits truncated, but it’s only a few minutes in length and it really wasn’t anything all that ‘special.’
 
Recommended, but …
 
If you like Zombie films, then there’s definitely something to love in Zombieworld.  In fact, if you like Zombie-comedies (of which there have been more than a few as of late), then you’re probably in store for a few good natured chuckles.  Unfortunately, the feature never quite settles comfortably into any single comedic tone, and it vacillates too strongly between farce and sheer lunacy to fit into any comfortable niche for my tastes.  Still, it’s an affable job performed by an array of affable characters.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Image Entertainment and RLJ Entertainment provided me with a DVD copy of Zombieworld 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

For those of you who haven’t thought all that much about it, there are a couple of quality ways a storyteller could capture the Apocalypse on film.
 
One way is the road followed by the usual studio big budget blockbusters.  You render it all with glorious special effects and glowing CGI, detailing city after city being bombarded with explosive forces while spectacularly ground into particles of glimmering, shimmering dust.  The other way?  That would be to go with a vastly lower budget and leave all of the pyrotechnics to the imagination of the viewing audience.  Instead, populate your film with close-up after dingy close-up of the people, their faces, and the rags they wear on their shoulders as they fight not only the elements but also one another in close, personal, and oft-times psychological battles to the finish.
 
This is the road travelled by Aftermath … and it’s a dark, dirty, desolate road, indeed.
 
(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 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 product packaging:
“The devastating horror of a nuclear apocalypse is now reality, and nine desperate strangers find themselves clinging to life in a farmhouse cellar, while radioactive fallout descends on the darkened world above.”
 
To be fair, there’s more, but methinks you get the idea.  And – if you’ve seen the slipcase – then you’ve probably already made up your mind if Aftermath is your type of film.  As I detailed above, this isn’t a big box office spectacle; rather, this is probably the way the world will end … not with a bang but with a lingering whimper.  It’s stark.  It’s unforgiving.  And it’s relentlessly depressing.
 
It would seem that life hasn’t taught us very well if this film is any indication.  These strangers – forced together out of circumstance – find themselves having to trust one another only because of their predicament and not because they’re trying to be stewards to their fellow man.  As the tension mounts, they argue, fight, and unnerve each other, trapped as they are in the confines of what amounts to an old-style home basement.  The upside to their isolation?  The house actually is fairly well stocked with items that afford them a greater opportunity than others to survive (short wave radio, old-timer transistor radios, foodstuffs, etc.), so the script by Christian McDonald makes clever use of what other Hollywood types would probably describe as a modern day militia setting.
 
However, kudos to director Peter Engert for the staging and the cinematography.  These folks are definitely closed in figuratively and symbolically no matter which way he sheds light on their collective space, and it’s all done so well (after the initial set-up) that it effectively brings a doomed sense of claustrophobia to the production.  When they sleep, they’re nearly up against one another.  When they fight, they’re practically already up in another’s face.  Just as their world outside has been obliterated, any sense of space has gone out the cellar window as well.
 
Sadly, there isn’t much character development, and I found that a shame.  With all of these folks closed in close quarters for so long, one thinks McDonald could’ve come up with a bit more than what he did – essentially, he serves up nice yet somber moments that detail how these leftovers refuse at all costs to give up their innate humanity.  A few of them even have small arcs (for example, there’s a moment when the young doctor finds himself studying a picture from his wallet, but we learn absolutely nothing of relevance about the woman he’s with) that would’ve allowed some room for more.  Naturally, the same won’t be said for those who come hunting them, but still I would’ve liked to have seen a bit more in the growth department.  Instead, everyone settles in rather comfortably for what the audience is probably certain is going to be a rough ride indeed.
 
Aftermath (2012) is produced by Eastlake Films and LightWave Entertainment.  DVD distribution is being handled by the reliable RLJ Entertainment and Image Entertainment.  As for the technical specifications?  Well, Aftermath boasts some mostly good cinematography, but the set-up sequences that account for the film’s first twenty minutes (or so) were photographed in extremely dark settings; in fact, one could argue that it’s so dark at times it’s nearly impossible to tell fully what’s going on.  That was a bit of a mess … but after those opening moment (basically once the group settles into the home’s cellar) the lighting improves immeasurably.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then here’s your subtle reminder: it’s the Apocalypse, silly!  There aren’t any!
 
Recommended.
 
Granted, Aftermath is without a doubt relentlessly depressing.  (And I do mean “relentlessly depressing,” folks.)  After a cautionary (and poorly lit) set-up, the film settles in to detailing what a grim fate awaits those who are unfortunate enough to survive the Apocalypse … if you really want to call this ‘surviving.’  Engert’s cinematography and the film’s set production go a long way toward selling the premise; and – if you’re still with it come the desperate finale – then hopefully you’ve learned something from this drearily foreboding tale.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Image Entertainment and RLJ Entertainment provided me with a DVD copy of Aftermath 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

C'mon now, folks.

You know me.  I've long said that -- while I'm willing every now and then to wander into some of the usual controversies -- I make a concerted effort to avoid an awful lot of what fuels most entertainment websites these days.  I don't mind sounding off on a topic here and there because it's quite fun to take a stand and maybe even ruffle a few feathers.  Still, I'm also quick to point out that not only making but also maintaining a multi-billion dollar entertainment franchise is no easy thing, especially in the modern era wherein practically everything a creator does gets second-guessed in the public square that is social media.  While pundits are quick to pile on, I'd much rather take my time and actually have something interesting to observe in this space, and that's why I rarely rush to review every single thing that comes down the pike.  Wisdom takes time, and I'd rather pony up an important observation when asked; pardon me if I just don't 'think' as fast on my feet as do others.

​However, enough of you have been contacting me via other means, wanting to know my thoughts on some of the latest and greatest Star Wars happenings.  Yes, I've seen the rumors of Kathleen Kennedy's impending demise (need I remind you that these blurbs have been around long before?), and, yes, I saw the news this morning about Damon Lindelof exiting -- apparently of his own decision -- the Star Wars project he began.  And, yes, I'm probably just as unimpressed with Season 3 of The Mandalorian as are some, but I'd suggest that it's likely for some different reasons than the majority are Tweeting and/or blogging and/or vlogging about these days.  Quality can't be rushed, and I can't help but wonder if the lackluster reception might be owed to a combination of elements rather than any single factor ... or maybe that's just me.

​In any event, because I'm getting asked, I'll put up a few random observations just off the top of my head this morning.
​

Kathleen Kennedy

Honestly, folks: if she's fired, then she's fired.  That's a bout I really don't have any dog in.  Yes, I'd agree that she's largely mismanaged the property in some interestingly creative ways, but let's not forget that many of Star Wars' most ardent fans even took issue (for a time) with George Lucas allegedly surrounding himself with folks who wouldn't tell him no.  The man behind that galaxy far, far away endured an awful lot of criticism over the Prequel Trilogy -- so much so that there's a contingent out there who to this day insist the only way for him to fully clean up the mess he made (their words, not mine) is to remake the Original Trilogy.  Need I say yet again that that's never going to happen?

So ... yeah, Kennedy has probably surrounded herself with a veritable Skeleton Crew of social justice warriors who thought pushing SW hardcore into the world of -- cough cough -- equity storytelling was the way of the future.  And to some degree ... who could blame them?  All of the Hollywood studios are doing this, and the reasons do vary.  A great deal of it is owed to it being, largely, what they're investors demands are; and anyone who's been in an environment wherein the guy who signs the paychecks sitting across from you knows that when he/she speaks you pretty much do what you're told.  Granted, KK may've demanded much of this, but I've no way to know the true facts and figures so I stay outta that territory generally.

​As for Kennedy's -- cough cough -- legacy?  Well, again: I've written reviews of a few items that have come along while she's been in the high chair, and I'll let those words speak for themselves.  I doubt she had an awful lot to do with finished stories on any of the films and/or shows, but as the prime motivator behind these visual adventures she likely gave plenty of notes about what she wanted and what was ultimately expected.  I've read online that Grogu's return to the wider Mandalorian saga was a demand -- Favreau planned to leave that bugger with Luke Skywalker and depart for other pursuits -- and I get why that made business sense.  Sometimes what makes for good business makes for poodoo storytelling, so maybe there's something to all of this scuttlebutt after all.
​

Damon Lindelof

Sigh.  Quick answer?  Not a fan.  Long answer?

Well ... let's just agree that Lindelof was most likely a suggestion from JJ Abrams to KK, and that likely comes on the heels of JJ and Damon's creative relationship going back over a decade or more now.  Lindelof rather famously wound down TV's Lost to its bitter/bittersweet finale, and even that produced more than a little bit of controversy.  While I'll admit to pretty much hating all of that show's last season, I was honestly a bit more put off by Lindelof's 'take' on the show when he stated that fans weren't really watching Lost for all of those mysteries but rather because they loved the characters.

Cough cough.

I watched it for the mysteries.  Characters come and go.  Story endures.  A good story, in fact, transcends characters; and that's largely why Hollywood keeps going back to certain properties again and again and again with reboots, remakes, and revisitations.  The story matters.  Sure, you have to have characters in there somewhere, but even bad characters can ruin a good story.  It's hard to find a bad story made better to good characters.  At least, that's my argument, and I'm sticking with it.

But given that perhaps what's being said in the marketplace about KK, is it any wonder that perhaps Lindelof's script wasn't perhaps strong enough to keep him around?  The news sounds like he walked away, and I can't help but wonder if some of that might be owed to his own lackluster reputation (my opinion, not yours) and the rather obvious change in management being so openly discussed.  Would you want to hang around in that shop right now?  I'm not so sure I would, so if he walked, then he walked.  'Nuff said.
​

​The Mandalorian: Season 3

Argh.  This one hurts a bit, and it hurts for personal reasons that might get too deep to explain quickly and easily, but I'm going to give it a shot.

Yesterday, I praised Shazam! Fury Of The Gods (review here).  I watched it over the weekend, and I thought it was a pretty terrific comic book movie.  (Mind you: I never said it was a great f-i-l-m, and, yes, there's a difference.)  Later in the day, I got a email from a random reader (clearly not a regular) who kinda/sorta took me to task for liking something that so many in the online entertainment community trashed.  I responded (politely) by saying I don't base my thoughts on movies on the consensus of opinion, and I never have.  I like what I like.  'Round these parts, I encourage you to like what you like.  If I hate on anything, it's usually actors and the like who allow politics to get in the way, but I never disparage anyone for liking anything I may dislike.  That's really my only Golden Rule, and I stick to it.

My ultimate point with Shazam 2 is that -- being as old as I am -- it was a rare theatrical experience that made me feel -- as a viewer -- an awful lot like I did when I was young and watched Superman: The Movie on the silver screen.  While I don't think Batman (1989) was perfect, there were parts of it that achieved that same result.  1994's The Crow lit a fire in my soul.  2011's Captain America: The First Avenger is really the only one of the Marvel films that had that same feeling, but I'll admit to not having seen each and every one of the flicks in their library.  2012's Dredd is a breathtakingly brilliant comics-to-film experience.  But if any picture -- especially one evolving from a comic book property -- can hit me so squarely in the feels, then yeah I'm probably always gonna lead with my heart than with my mind.  It's just how I'm wired.

And that is exactly where I'm at with The Mandalorian at present.

​Season 1 made me feel like this was Star Wars again -- the same experience I had in the dark theater watching the very first film -- and I cherished that.  Season 2?  Well, it was pretty damn close as well, though there were some issues here and there with some rather obvious long-form tinkering.  And now ... Season 3?  Well, like a lot of you, I'm lost.  I won't say that the show is directionless, but I will say that I'm not all that impressed with its first three episodes for various reasons.  In fact, I found this third episode -- the one so many YouTubers have been proclaming "the best episode ever" -- to be downright boring and damn near inconsequential.  I realize that take may be controversial, but -- like you -- I gotta call it like I see it.

​-- EZ

Over the years, I’ve made no secret about the fact that – as comic book characters go – I’ve always leaned more towards DC Comics than I ever did Marvel’s slate of heroes.
 
Now – again, folks, for those who accuse me of being a hater – I don’t hold a grudge against any of the Marvel line-up.  Iron Man?  He’s just fine.  Spider-Man?  A bit whiney, I think.  The Hulk?  Well, he’s got anger issues.  (Snicker snicker!)  But seriously, to each his own when it comes to the wide, wide world of superheroes because – ultimately – each of us likes what we like, critics be damned.  When pushed to come up with something substantive on the topic, it just boils down (for me) to the fact that I read much more DC growing up than I ever did Marvel, and that’s because those characters simply made more sense to me.  That’s why I don’t begrudge anyone leaning the other way: for whatever reasons, those folks connected elsewhere, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.  It’s just the spice of life.
 
So, yes, I do welcome a new DC film with open arms, much more than I’ve ever gotten excited about Marvel’s properties.
 
Naturally – over the weekend – the wifey and I took in a screening of Shazam! Fury Of The Gods (2023), so I wanted to show up today to offer a few words in defense of the movie.  Yes: I am defending it, mostly because I think it’s received a helluva lot of negative press in the marketplace of ideas, and I think I have an explanation for why.  As can happen any time I open my big mouth, I might be wrong: I have been before, I could be now, and I’ll likely be wrong about something tomorrow.  Such is life.  But I’d still argue that this sequel is getting dragged by a whole lot of folks for all the wrong reasons.
 
For starters, I see Fury Of The Gods much more of an authentic comic book movie than most of what the Marvel company has rolled with for some time.  While each of their respective entries might have that original kernel or spark of an idea that heartily ties it back to some graphic sensibilities, their films seem to have gone in the direction of either pushing an agenda or serving as only one piece of an evolving storyline.  (Please, don’t get me started on the whole Phase Two, Phase Three, and Phase Four crud, because it’s tiring, I don’t have the energy, and – frankly – I wouldn’t want to look uninformed as I’ve already said Marvel just ain’t my thing.)  But things like diversity being so openly pushed tend to always have me looking elsewhere only because I don’t go to movies to be educated and/or indoctrinated.  Like you, I’m free to think what I like.  Layering a story with lesser political messages waters down a character and maybe even that hero’s central motivations: it can be done organically, but more often than not it’s used like a club to beat an unsuspecting audience over the head and that just doesn’t appeal to me.
 
In contrast, Shazam 2 just focuses on – here it comes – family.
 
Imagine that?
 
Instead of spending twenty or thirty or forty minutes trying to both define what a family is and isn’t, the script rather naturally shows it to you with – gasp – a family actually working together.  It doesn’t shy away from the good, the bad, and the occasionally ugly about arguing, either: this cast – both young and in their superhero identities – are allowed to be who they are – without being judged by anyone else – and it feels part and parcel of this mini-universe.  They laugh together.  They cry together.  They poke fun together.  And – ultimately – they triumph together, rising up against whatever adversity the universe throws at them.  They didn’t need a law to succeed.  They didn’t need public opinion on their side.  They stayed true to one another – even sacrificed for one another – and that worked.
 
Lesser directors and/or producers would have more likely gone to great pains to show just how the Shazam family isn’t the traditional family to begin with.  They’re white, black, and other all thrown together under the same roof.  They don’t look at one another as anything other than brother, sister, father, and mother.  This is how regular folks live their lives in defiance of governmental regulation, social posturing, and media messaging.  Merely, they exist … and they do it damn fine without having to rise up and proclaim anything other than being true to themselves.
 
This reality flies in the face of everything our cultural betters have been telling us for years.  According to them, you can’t have equality (or even “equity,” the new watchword) without some kind of rule being passed or having Uncle Sam require something via legislation.  Given that structure, all of this family – the Vasquez clan – should be mired in gloom.  Instead, young Billy Batson finds himself consumed with what’s going to happen to him once he turns eighteen.  Will he be shunned by those who’ve loved him over the years because he’s a foster child, or will he still be loved?  Such a simple narrative focus shouldn’t be allowed in Hollywood, much less delivered to the masses, so it’s only natural that the media drag the picture as outdated garbage messaging.  Give Shazam access to the girl’s bathroom.  Isn’t that what he’d really want?
 
Furthermore, Shazam 2 doesn’t shy away from confronting the difficulty of being in a family, extended or otherwise.
 
Without getting too deeply into the plot (and, folks, it ain’t all that complicated, which is another reason why critics tend to hate it), the villains are sisters in that they descend from the same god.  Springing from the same loins doesn’t always mean that the children are going to get along, as it quickly becomes clear that each kinda/sorta operates from their own respective agendas.  One seeks a kind of peaceful unity with mankind, while another seeks total supremacy over what she sees as an inferior species.  While they might occasionally join forces (when it serves them), they’re otherwise at odds, disagreeing over their place in our world as well as what to do about adversaries they come up against.  Suffice it to say, this family is probably more in line with Hollywood’s contemporary position – no good can come of blood relations – and the fact that they don’t inevitably win the day likely doesn’t sit well with so obvious a failure.
 
But look … at the end of the day I’m the kind of guy who goes to a comic book movie to be entertained – not preached to – and, on that front, Shazam 2 is fabulous.  It might drag in a few spots, and, sure, the prevalence of CGI over practical effects has never quite sat well with this old dog.  (I am really, really, really trying hard to learn new tricks, folks.)  Postproduction trickery does work against some otherwise impressive visuals here and there.  And still the message at the heart of the film – that of sometimes sacrificing what might otherwise come fast and easy in defense of the family – resonates whenever it’s given some appreciable mileage.
 
So the Shazam family might not be hoping through time to save the universe as we know it, and yet they do a damn fine job reminding me why sometimes it’s OK to save your own … mostly because you might save a whole lot more in the process.
 
Highly recommended.

-- EZ

It was the 1970’s, and terrorism – it would seem – was no longer a phenomenon that happened in only in countries around the world far away from American shores.  Those who practiced this dark form of political influence had set their sights on the great fruited plains, and U.S. citizens more and more were opening their eyes to the stark reality that a well-plotted attack could inflict great damage on them and their neighbors for the first time in history.  This was well before September 11, 2001 would truly change the face of possibilities – and it was well after the events of December 7, 1941 – but the dangers of terrorism was truly starting to seep into the wider American consciousness.
 
So it was certainly understandable why Thomas Harris’ 1975 debut novel Black Sunday turned some heads.  Depicting a full-blown terrorist attack on the stadium hosting the Superbowl – that great American celebration of all things football – brought the scope of international terrorism to the West’s biggest doorstep, a place where television cameras would already be rolling to capture each and every moment of the big game.  It goes without saying that Hollywood knew a good thing when they saw it (or read it, I should say), so the rights were purchased by the Robert Evans Company, and a screenplay was commissioned.  Renowned director John Frankenheimer was inevitably attached, and an international cast was round up to give the work the required authenticity.
 
Despite having an awful lot of positive attributes going for it, Black Sunday was not the blockbuster all involved probably thought it would be.  Wikipedia.org reports that it grossed just under $16 million on a budget of $8 million, and that’s not quite the kind of return producers likely anticipated.  In the postmortem of its lackluster performance, a number of causes – including a like-minded thriller being released only months earlier – could be said to have kept it from achieving box office glory … but I’m inclined to think that perhaps the American ticket-buying public wasn’t really ready to face the prospects of so many innocent civilians being placed in so deadly a predicament.
 
(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:
“Black Sunday is the powerful story of a Black September terrorist group attempting to blow up a Goodyear blimp hovering over the Super Bowl stadium with 80,000 people and the President of the United States in attendance.”
​

My whole life I’ve been a huge fan of classic hard-boiled novels.
 
In them, there’s always a somewhat knighted main character – a private eye, a police detective, some professional errand runner – whose willing to both match wits and muscles with characters often twice his size.  Why?  Well, some would say that it’s because this main player coddles a secret death wish, but I’ve always argued that it’s only because our hero understands full well that the only way to vanquish his or her foes is to match the level of ruthlessness the villains bring to each and every equation.  If he doesn’t – if he shows any signs of weakness or misgivings – then he only opens the door to more bloodshed, setting in motion yet one more campaign of suffering to scar his already guilty conscience.
 
In that regard, a case could be made that it’s Major David Kabakov (played by Robert Shaw) who sets in motion this series of events depicted in against the backdrop of Black Sunday.  In the opening vignette when he and his Israeli commandos are quietly taking out the Palestinian terrorist group known as Black September, Kabakov breaks open a bathroom door only to come across a woman cowering against the back wall.  She’s frightened and defenseless.  In that moment, the major takes pity on her; when orders were to shoot to kill everyone on the premises, he opts to let her be … and this is the mistake that just might haunt him more than any bloody assassination he’s ever committed.
 
The lady wasn’t some terrorist’s lover.  She is Dahlia Iyad (Marthe Keller), the group’s mastermind.  And she’s now committed – more than ever – to inflict maximum damage on the United States and its global allies.
 
This is exactly the kind of premise hard-boiled prose relies on, and Black Sunday works efficiently within this territory.  The bulk of the movie is a tense cat-and-mouse chase between Kabakov and Iyad, all of it playing out like a visual chess match wherein the stakes are the lives of countless thousands.  Much of Iyad’s success is owed to the fact that she’s actually well on the way toward orchestrating an incredible attack already: as a ‘honey pot,’ she’s brainwashed Michael Lander (Bruce Dern) – a veteran POW of the Vietnam War returning home in disgrace – into aiding and abetting her plot to deliver carnage at the American Superbowl.  As one of the few pilots assigned to the Goodyear Blimp – the famed aircraft that hovers relentless over the big game – he grants her the level of access required to deliver on her dark crusade.
 
At nearly two-and-one-half hours, Black Sunday is a meaty picture, and it’s an experience not to be trifled with.  While I’ve read some suggestion that the film is too long to effectively deliver on its payoff, I’d disagree mostly because Sunday requires a modicum of set-up in order to be functionally believable.  The security for such a public event as the Superbowl is astoundingly complex already, and the fact that the President of the United States decides to be in attendance at the affair only raised the bar considerably higher.  The plot as conceived and translated from the Harris novel requires more than a small amount of finagling.  Also, given the fact that Iyad is being actively pursued by Kabakov and his American counterparts all while she’s trying to achieve an unimaginable attack also grants the story some added dimension that can’t simply unfold quickly.  This story takes time, so kudos to Frankenheimer and his talented cast and crew for achieving what they did.
​

Shaw is a great choice as the film’s commanding lead, and he rather compelling makes the most of every moment, even if it’s something as simple as standing in wait while others hit their marks.  He always was a bit bigger-than-life on screen, and his presence makes this picture the kind of theatrical experience audiences appreciate.  As the picture’s femme fatale, Keller delivers a fabulous counterpoint to Shaw: like him (but for different reasons), she’s occasionally conflicted about her mission but is eager to stay the course once the visibly broken Lander reminds her of the human cost to choosing a side in any international affair.  If there’s any player here who might be a narrative weakness, then it is Dern: this disillusioned outsider is a role he’s played before, so seeing him in so similar a part is a bit laughable early on.  Like Iyad, he manages to stay on track, but I can’t help wonder if audiences of the day passed on seeing the picture thinking that they’d already ‘been there, done that’ with Dern as the chief adversary.
 
Also, I’d be remiss if I failed to point out that the great American football game – the Superbowl – truly becomes one of the film’s big stars.  (Like Shaw, even football is bigger than life!)  The fact that Frankenheimer was able to capture live footage of Superbowl X between the Pittsburgh Steelers and the Dallas Cowboys with his stars in attendance on the sidelines and throughout the stadium gives Black Sunday an unquestioned realism, especially for its big impending showdown between the forces of good and evil.  While the ultimate act of terror is brought to the screen via some rather obvious (and dated) special effects trickery, it’s very clear that no holds were barred in delivering this theatrical spectacle as best they could at the time.
 
Black Sunday (1977) was produced by the Robert Evans Company.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the folks at Arrow Films.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights and sounds to be – for the most part – exceptionally good: there are a few sequences with some obviously dated special effects work in the big finish, and it’d be a crime if I didn’t point out that they were a bit limited.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special effects, then you do have a bit to get excited about.  I was provided a proof copy from the distributor, so I can’t speak to any of the advertised packaging materials (artwork, essay, etc.), but there’s a solid audio commentary from film producer Josh Nelson, a visual essay discussing the merits of the feature, and a documentary exploring the career of Frankenheimer.  It’s an impressive assortment, though I did find the commentary a bit slow in spots.
 
Highly recommended.
 
Black Sunday feels like the kind of theatrical experience that began life as a best-selling novel, an experience so big that – naturally – Hollywood wanted to adapt it on film.  Alas, the shortcomings of the whole book-to-film process occasionally rear their ugly head (not all characters get fleshed out the way they usually do in the novel; the effects work of the era might not exactly have been seamlessly up to the task of bringing it all to convincing glory; etc.), but the flick rather deftly incorporates headline-making events into a compelling yarn for audiences to enjoy again and again.  I thought Shaw’s work was good – a bit too reserved in a few spots – but Dern was the obvious choice as he’d done this kind of thing several times before already.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary copy of Black Sunday (1977) 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