I do hate to harp on filmmakers, folks.

It isn’t as if I get any enjoyment out of criticizing bad storytelling.  I take no delight in deconstructing filmdom’s messaging – especially that of the laziest and most obvious – but, as they say, somebody’s gotta do it.  All too often these days good ideas get lost amongst a screenwriter’s, director’s, and producer’s desire to garner attention of their peers, and what we end up with is an entirely self-serving release like Spontaneous (2020) from Awesomeness Films and Jurassic Party Productions.

From IMDB.com’s plot summary:
“When students in their high school begin inexplicably exploding (literally...), seniors Mara (Katherine Langford) and Dylan (Charlie Plummer) struggle to survive in a world where each moment may be their last. As an unexpected romance blossoms between them, Mara and Dylan discover that when tomorrow is no longer promised, they can finally start living for today.”

Without belaboring the point all that much, let me clarify a few positive items right up front: youngsters Langford and Plummer are dynamite with what they’re provided.  While the script from Brian Duffield doesn’t exactly take full advantage of his talents’ full range, Spontaneous is chocked with enough character ‘beats’ to show that these young’uns should have a bright future in film.  They stumbled in and out of the ordinary and the extraordinary with some nuanced grace, well beyond what I was expecting given the fact that – since I stick largely to SciFi and Fantasy releases – I was unfamiliar with their work.  That made for some nice surprise moments as I do appreciate what actors can bring to their game … especially the more bizarre this game called life can get.

Furthermore, Spontaneous functions from start-to-finish with great efficiency.  The script never invests much in the science of its science fiction, instead choosing to use its construct – these unpredictable exploding seniors – more as the framework for these various scenes of high drama, youthful regret, and manic intensity.  Editing is precise, too, and Duffield keeps all of it moving at probably the right pace since there’s rarely a dull moment or wasted sequence.

Now for the rest of the story …

Sadly, Spontaneous descends into the typical Hollywood programming that more effective filmmakers (especially those of the past) avoid: too often Duffield resorts to getting up on his soapbox and preaching to his Tinseltown audience, almost as if he was awaiting the usual accolades.  (Hint: when critics rave about a film while audiences tend to reject it, you know whom the target demo was very quickly.)

Spontaneous is bereft of a single responsible adult.

Now, some of this is owed to the manner in which the story is constructed.  Langford’s Mara is not only gifted with the old soul cynicism only Hollywood creations can provide (I call it the Juno Syndrome in reference to 2007’s Juno wherein screenwriter Diablo Cody gave her lead the wisdom of a town elder in the package of an otherwise inept adolescent) but also given “the cool parents” who allow their pride-and-joy to engage in recreational drug use and irresponsible drinking ad nauseum for the sake of being “the cool parents.”  The very talented Rob Huebel is utterly wasted as the dad who’s reduced to concerned glances at his emotionally-charged daughter, and the extent of his caring advice in these times of need is little more than a good hug.  And you want to talk even more wasted?  Piper Perabo emotes about as well as a stumbling homeless person who shows up to give a few lines while otherwise phoning in her work: it’s a damn tragedy.

The FBI, the CDC, and even the adult grocery store staff wherein Mara steals her liquor are given the same treatment: none of them seem to truly give a damn about the bizarre situation these high school seniors find themselves in … but why should they?  When much of it is played for laughs anyway, were they really supposed to do more than hit their marks and look stunned?  No one takes a serious adult interest in the entire affair, and the CDC even shows up with an animated Powerpoint that belittles these teens’ intelligence.

Ugh.

It’s funny how the “it takes a village crowd” is seemingly only interested in idolizing the adventures of anti-establishment types, of which Spontaneous revels in.  How does that work exactly?  Where do these anti-establishment types end up in reality?  What role, if any, do they play in the idealized village, except to show up at every protest raising hell, looting Targets, and burning police stations?  Standing against the “machine” that is civilization does score points for individuality – and, sure, it’s far more interesting to explore what makes us unique than what makes us, say, collective – but when this rugged eccentricity reaches the end of its days that gathered wisdom is typically lost when it could’ve better served mankind by passing it down to the next generation instead of smoking pot with your toes stuck in the sand at the beach.
​
Mildly Recommended … but only for folks who truly want to try something a bit different for the sake of trying something a bit different.  Though occasionally damn funny, Spontaneous is exactly the kind of irresponsible programming right-minded people have come to expect from Progressives: in the midst of an unexplainable pandemic, they craft and release a comedy film about an unexplainable pandemic targeted at the most influential and perhaps most uninformed demographic possible – the youth – and then exploit their politically-driven drivel in fourth gear.  Insult America.  Insult Republicans.  Show plenty of shots of kids giving audiences the finger.  And all of it is done in the name of art.  Still, performances are solid, and I did have some fun with it … up until the point wherein I realized I was the film’s target.

​-- EZ

(For clarification: I have not seen this publicly stated by any media outlet.  I am penning this brief piece solely on information shared by actor Gil Gerard.  He had reported earlier today that Felix was placed in hospice, and he followed up a short time ago today stating that the actor has passed.)

Ach.  Some deaths are more personal than others.  Such is the nature of existence.  Yes, I think each of us should take a moment to reflect over the loss of any man, but those reflections tend to run more deeply with the talented folk we follow through life.  In a moment, life changes; and we're left with trying to find a bit of comfort by collectively remembering where we've been before speeding on into tomorrow.

Word reached me via social media that the great Felix Silla passed this morning, bringing an end to a battle with pancreatic cancer.

Though the lion's share of the actor's fans were likely fans of his work on the late 1970's early 1980's SciFi/Fantasy series Buck Rogers In The 25th Century, a quick glance of his IMDB.com profile shows that there are other properties worth a second look if you're interested in celebrating a life in film.  In fact, Felix's earlier gig was as the kinda/sorta lovable (but harry) Cousin Itt aboard 1960's The Addams Family ... and that property definitely still endures in fandom today.

He also found employment aboard 1968's seminal Science Fiction classic Planet Of The Apes, appearing in makeup as an ape child.  Then, there was work in one of the -- ahem -- kinda/sorta bizarre programs of my youth, H.R. Pufnstuf.  In the guise of 'Lucifer,' Silla did uncredited work for Glen Larson's Battlestar Galactica.  He even got the chance to play in that galaxy far, far away when George Lucas cast him as an Ewok for Star Wars: Episode VI - Return Of The Jedi.

A few years back, I remember an episode of the program Toy Hunter in which Silla contracted Jordan Hembrough to track down an elusive action figure of Twiki the Robot (from Buck Rogers) so that he could add it to his own personal collection.  It was a brief appearance, but it underscored just how much these roles meant to the man ... and I'm glad he was able late in life to put another toy on his shelf at home.

May he rest in peace.  Prayers to any and all who knew him.

​-- EZ

I don’t read as much as I used to.

Some of this is owed to the dunderheads at Amazon.com.  For years, I was an Amazon.com Top 1000 Reviewer of books, films, and products; and then Jeff Bezos grew a wild hair up his posterior and changed the rules so that legitimate stay-at-home critics – folks like me who were actually making a reasonable living doing this – were dropped (partially) from his platform before unceremoniously dumping all of our works even if we followed the new rules.  I don’t normally bemoan capitalists amassing capital, but it was clear to many of us affected that – now that he had built his own galactic empire – Grand Moff Bezos no longer needed reviewers, so he threw all of us out like trash.  Such is life.

In any event, I do still pick up the occasional ‘reasonably new read’ and scan it cover-to-cover if it interests me.  Although my duties editing SciFiHistory.Net get the lion’s share of my free time, I still managed to finally put down Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back: From A Certain Point Of View, and I wanted to sound off on it for posterity’s sake.

For those unaware, the ‘A Certain Point Of View’ imprint for the franchise thus far takes a look at the events of the seminal films but – as the header suggests – not from the perspective of any major characters.  These are short stories – vignettes, really – which peel back the layer of an event from the motion picture by seeing it fresh and through the eyes of someone the reader is just getting to know.  As an example, imagine the opening of Star Wars: A New Hope wherein droids C-3PO and R2-D2 are racing down the halls of the Tantive IV Blockade Runner, but imagine all of it as being told from the ‘point of view’ of, say, a third droid, one entirely unaware of the circumstances that pit these Rebels against the Empire.  This all-new ‘point of view’ gives the reader an opportunity to not only reminisce about a scene from the popular movie but also presents these details from an all-new viewpoint.  It’s the appeal of mixing the old with the new, something I’d imagine would have fans clamoring for more.

To date, they’ve done two volumes – one for A New Hope and one for The Empire Strikes Back – and the publisher has released them to coincide with the fortieth anniversary (respectively) of each picture.

Because these are short stories, there isn’t an awful lot of depth here.  Again, these are meant to be inspired recollections of events within the greater Star Wars (film) mythology; so much of it has the inherent wide-eyed fascination that we as an audience experienced with the space saga on the silver screen.  Many of them are what I’d even call ‘quick reads,’ giving the reader something light to simply pass the time between new Star Wars media projects.  Others – to the credit of some talented authors – do give some nuance to the filmed chapters by fleshing out a familiar face like Wedge Antilles, that menacing Wampa who almost made a meal out of Luke, or even Cloud City’s Lobot.  Granted, it may not be much complexity, but as an anniversary edition these efforts are perfectly entertaining on their own merits.

As can happen when you pack in forty different ideas around a forty-year-old film, there are some stories which – ahem – probably shouldn’t have been greenlit from the beginning.  There’s a particular gruesome slog-of-a-read toward the end which features a witness to nearly the entire lightsaber duel between Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker.  When a character you’ve never been convinced to care about somehow manages to stumble not once but twice in the darkness of some utility tunnels upon one of the screen’s most epic confrontations, it all feels forced and inorganic … almost like the writer had no other idea so decided to rewrite the film from his or her own perspective.  Ouch.

And, sadly, this happens more than once in the volume.  While I have no problem with narrative side glances back at the film itself, why simply engage in retelling your audience something it already knows?  Why not capture – as the title suggests – a whole new ‘certain point of view,’ like the ghostly Obi-Wan Kenobi promised?  Or maybe a different author should’ve been chosen?
So, yes, be prepared for more than a stinker or two (or three, since Star Wars films come in trilogies), but keep in mind it’s all meant in good fun.

Recommended.  If you’re an old school Star Wars fan like myself, then I suspect you’ll find more to like than dislike within the pages of Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back: From A Certain Point Of View.  Not all of it is particularly winning – honestly, the first half dealing with Hoth, the asteroid field, and Dagobah feel more inventive, unlike the second half which felt more like an anniversary cash grab – but enough of it light-speeds you back to the galaxy far, far away efficiently enough that it’s a journey worth taking.

-- EZ

​(Clarification: On March 16, 2021, Arrow Video released their pressing of The Invisible Man Appears and The Invisible Man Vs. The Human Fly to the U.S. consumer marketplace.  I’ve just received my copy, and I’ll be posting this review in two parts, one focusing on each of the films so that I can cover them the way I choose.  Happy reading!)

A long-time, die-hard fan of the traditional monster movie, I was honestly ashamed that I’d never heard of one of Japan’s earliest forays into this unique sub-genre of Science Fiction and Fantasy: The Invisible Man Appears completely slipped past my radar in all the decades I’d been exploring genre properties from around the world.  I knew that the Japanese had kinda/sorta cornered the market on the giant lizard and space age turtle movies of their era; but I honestly never knew about this flick until an email reached me from Arrow Video.  They offered me the chance for a screener to review on SciFiHistory.Net.  I couldn’t pass it up; and though I found the affair a bit undercooked I’m still thrilled to have finally seen it.

And don’t get me wrong: while I love the Frankensteins, the Draculas, the Werewolves, and even those Creatures emerging from those Black Lagoons, which of us at one time or another hasn’t wanted to possess the power of invisibility?  We’ve all wanted to be that fly-on-the-wall, that ultimate voyeur who could get in and out of anywhere without being noticed.  Slip past those armed guards.  Escape with no danger of being caught.  Maybe even watch a Playboy centerfold or two slip down to even less than their panties!  Perhaps that’s why this particular ‘creature feature’ winds up getting more remakes, retreads, and reboots over time: it’s that each of us secretly craves that ability.

Therein lies the problem.  Such lust is never satiated without consequence.

What’s been lost over the years (in most incarnations dabbling in invisibility) is that the magical serum inevitably drives the user insane.  Why wouldn’t it?  The sufferer no longer has the ability to see himself in the mirror, much less check just how gruesome that cut on the leg is.  Self-awareness?  Why, that’s all you have, and not in a good way.  The condition is as much a curse as it is a blessing, so is it any wonder that you’d slowly lose one’s ability to function in the world … a very high cost in exchange for very little gain.

Why, it’s enough to make a grown man cry … if not commit murder … or worse …
​

(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 product packaging:
“A scientist successfully creates an invisibility serum, only to be kidnapped by a gang of thugs who wish to use the formula to rob a priceless jewel.”

What’s an invisible man got to do to get a break around filmdom?  Isn’t it bad enough that said formula not only erases him from visual existence but also eventually drives the user insane?  And now the Japanese have him pulling jewel heists?

Such is the plight of any one of the three scientists featured here (the feature’s set-up makes a brief guessing game out of just whom has been transformed).  Dr. Kenzo Nakazato (played by Ryunosuke Tsukigata) has surrounded himself with a pair of successful proteges – Shunji Kurokawa (Kanji Koshiba) and Kyosuke Segi (Daijirô Natsukawa), both of whom who have not only set their sights on inheriting the man’s science but also the love of his only daughter, Machiko (Chizuru Kitagawa).  Still, even with the added promise of a potential love triangle, The Invisible Man Appears never really invests in its characters the way the Universal Studios Monsters Universe did; and that’s a big miss so far as this reviewer is concerned.

Instead, Appears’ narrative focus stays largely on its effects work (which is good) and giving screen time to the feature’s villain, Kawabe (Shosaku Sugiyama).  When the film isn’t marveling in magically opening doors and windows or the invisible kitten traipsing its tiny footprints across the living room floor (a fabulous sequence), it’s given over the Kawabe’s scheming glances into and away from the camera so that the audience can see he’s secretly up to something.  (Don’t we already know this?)  Eventually, it comes as no surprise when the jewel thief also turns out to have lecherous cravings for the young Machiko; but a greater investment in cinematic nuance might have made for a more grounded exercise here.

In fact, a reasonable person might argue that Appears spends too much of its time straddling that line between what it really wanted to be: is this a Science Fiction and Fantasy picture whose characters lean a bit more glamorous, or is it a gangster picture with SciFi and Fantasy undertones?  Too often, it feels like all of this started out as a crime picture that somehow morphed into a genre entry to give the studio a way out of simply marketing Science Fiction.  (I’ve read that some historians have credited this picture of Japan’s first legitimate SciFi prospect, so maybe executives were a bit worried about its box office potential.)  I’ve seen a few Japanese gangster pictures – and I’ve watched more than a fair share of their samurai flicks – and I’m inclined to think someone wearing a studio suit pushed this one more in one thematic direction than the other.

Now, that reality doesn’t take away the visual achievements here.  Appears was made almost two decades after its Hollywood inspiration; and the two stories are entirely different.  Japanese special effects pioneer Eiji Tsuburaya supplies the visual work, and all of it (while obviously dated) is quite good.  I didn’t find it particularly groundbreaking – certainly not by comparison to what Hollywood had accomplished with similar subject matter – but this was a master craftsman starting to build a wildly impressive skill set; and, on that level, it works exceedingly well.

But when invisibility is probably what originally brought audiences in to see this release, why spend so much time centered on the criminal element?  Kurokawa’s descent into madness could’ve used more visibility in this monster movie.  After all, it’s the rational man’s tumble into irrationality that gives these pictures their bite: audiences naturally feel sympathy for the monster trapped in science beyond its control, and a bit more pathos would’ve made for stronger storytelling.
​

The Invisible Man Appears (1949) is produced by Daiei Studios.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled via MVD Visual and Arrow Video.  As for the technical specifications?  The film opens with the qualifier that producers went to great lengths to obtain the very best originals from which to draw this pressing, also explaining that there were snippets of lower quality remaining stock which might make for awkward experiences.  Honestly, I found them trivial: there’s a few sequences with obvious grain and a loss of quality, but they didn’t distract from my enjoying the story.  As for the special features?  The disc boasts an interview with film critic Kim Newman on the history of ‘Invisible’ pictures; a theatrical trailer; and some image galleries to review.  It’s a nice package – a bit slim on specifics to this film – but worthy of note.

Recommended … but, largely, The Invisible Man Appears will likely only appeal to fans of early Japanese cinema and/or fans of the wider ‘Invisible Man’ franchise.  While this one certainly feels derivative of the Hollywood original (even handpicking scenes to recreate to slightly different effect here), I found it more of an exercise in what was possible for special effects guru Tsuburaya, who would go onto later fame with his work on the legendary Godzilla movies for Toho Company.  The film’s pacing is a bit clunky, some of which can be attributed to chosen camera trickery to distinguish between the good guys and the bad (unnecessary distractions which pull the viewer from the experience for no real reason); but performances work they way they should in this cautionary tale that reminds us there’s no good or evil in science … just those who would use it for good or evil.

In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at MVD Visual and Arrow Video provided me with a Blu-ray of The Invisible Man Appears 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

I’ve mentioned many times in my task of promoting films of Science Fiction and Fantasy that I grew up in an era wherein most households enjoyed only a handful of television channels, much less an abundance of home entertainment choices.  Home video – aka Beta, VHS machines, and laserdiscs – were at least a decade away, maybe a bit more depending upon the household’s disposable income; and so I really had to make do with what was available in small Midwestern television markets wherein cheaply syndicated films from the 1940’s, 50’s, and 60’s were the soup du jour.

These films were – ahem – certainly not the cream of the crop.  These weren’t award-winners by any stretch of the imagination; and if they came from Hollywood (or a close facsimile) then they were likely B-pictures or low-budget fare that came-and-went from the box office quicker than a sneeze.  This meant that my Friday nights and Saturday mornings and afternoons were largely spent with Abbott and Costello pictures, forgettable Westerns, monster movies, Science Fiction features produced on an Ed Wood budget or a bit extra (some of them coming from Japan), and a number of swords-and-sandals motion pictures (most of these coming from Italy).

And because my options were limited (very limited), I learned to not only stick with watching a less-than-captivating feature but also (dare I say?) find some reason to like it.  After all, the Sunday newspaper edition TV guide showed the film scheduled for two hours: if I were to give it two hours of my young life, then I may as well make the best of it.

Sure, much of it was schlock.  Much of it was cheaply made.  Much of it would be forgotten once I turned the TV off and climbed into bed.  But while it was on, I learned to give it my undivided attention and make the best of it.  (Mind you, this was the quality of entertainment those merry knuckleheads at MST3K spent a few seasons lampooning to solid effect.  I learned to laugh at these flicks as those comics did.)

So there’s no doubt in my mind that I probably took in Hercules And The Captive Women as a young’un.  Now that I’m older and (allegedly) wiser, I’m glad to have rediscovered it on Blu-ray as it’s exactly the kind of feature this old dog enjoys.
​

​(NOTE: The following review will include spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of person who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to my 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 product packaging: “The bold and daring Hercules encounters Ismene when he must save her from a shape-shifting creature – and that’s just the beginning!  Ismene then brings Hercules to Atlantis where they come face to face with the evil Queen Antinea, Ismene’s mother, and try to prevent her dreams of world conquest.  Will Hercules prevail?”

While there are differing versions of mythology regarding Hercules’ origin, the most commonly accepted throughout Western civilization is that the god Zeus seduced the mortal Alcmene by disguising himself as her husband.  After three nights of wild sex, the Earthly woman was properly impregnated.  Hera – Zeus’s sister and wife (yes, you read that right) – learned of her husband’s dalliance, and she spends many of her days generally making life difficult for young hero.  This is why the half-human, half-immortal’s life is perfectly suited for filmdom: he spent most of his days trying to halt the larger-than-life shenanigans unleashed by the gods on his brothers and sisters across mankind.  Think of Hercules as the original Superman, set down on Earth by the gods instead of the distant Krypton, imbued with the task of putting wrong things right, and you get the picture.

Honestly, very little of the strongman’s origin is necessary to appreciate the character presented in Captive Women.  Here, Hercules is already a man of note: his legendary triumphs make him a natural hero for the people of Thebes … so when some supernatural force warns of impending doom for all of Greece, it’s perfectly natural for King Androcles to enlist the son of Zeus on a journey to uncover the threat and make the world safe again.
​

Director Vittorio Cottafavi shared screenwriting credits with a few others (Sandro Continenza and Duccio Tessari), and I’m honestly not certain the three of them working together knew how to effectively set-up this adventure as the script as presented meanders a bit too much from point A to point B to point C in its early stages.  Rather than having Hercules fully engaged to wage war against an enemy, Cottafavi’s picture presents him as a man content to while away his days under the care of his loving wife and son Hylas.  In fact, Hercules spends most of the film’s set-up pre-occupied with napping (???), giving up valuable screen time to the less interesting Androcles, Hylas, and Timoteo (a dwarf and the feature’s sole comic relief).  However, once circumstances present themselves wherein this crew is broken up and fully requiring Herc’s attention to “right the ship,” Captive Woman dutifully becomes a picture of note, if only one of minor status.  This turn of events leads the strongman to the shores of Atlantis, where Queen Antinea has set her sights on ruling the world, and such nefarious colonialism is a mission of which Hercules won’t abide.

A more tightly constructed set-up would be necessary to elevate Captive Women to the level of being a must-see picture of the swords-and-sandals era of filmmaking, but Cottafavi still delivers the goods in the second half.  Hercules unravels the mystery behind Antinea’s hidden island, and it involves a level of deception that perhaps even the gods wouldn’t have attempted: genetic alteration means our hero will face a veritable army of his muscular equals!

For the record, this performance was athlete-turned-actor Reg Park’s inaugural picture as Hercules.  (I’ve read he starred in four films for the studio.)  Though he mumbles his way through some of the dialogue, he certainly looks the part when the script gives him the opportunity to flex his way into the proper exploits.  What he lacks in charisma he makes up in sheer determination here, even when the script and visual trickery isn’t quite up to the Herculean task.  By the end, he shows these ‘Captive Women’ who’s boss, and the picture is better for his contribution.

​What is worthy of note for the film is the production detail, particularly the Atlantean interiors and some of the external shooting locations.  While I’ve lamented in reviews about how modern pictures rely all too much of CGI creations to convey the sense of scale and scope of distant worlds, Captive Women presents a veritable castle that was built with the blood, sweat, and tears of studio craftsmen.  The costumes of the Atlantean army are both dynamic and threatening – Stormtroopers for the age of barbarians – just as a domineering force would and should be.  Costumes and set décor complete the visual aesthetics, and the film demonstrates why this reviewer still prefers reviewing pictures of old as opposed to the modern era: they just feel more authentic than a bunch of colorful pixels rendered in post-production.

So, yes, whereas other critics might dismiss the feature as cinema fodder, I liked it plenty.  While some of this enjoyment might be the effect nostalgia has on these old bones, I’d argue that there’s still a legitimate amount of magic captured in these 95 minutes.  Diff’rent strokes for diff’rent folks is true, and if I like mine with a bit of camp there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that … gods be praised!
​

Hercules And The Captive Women (1961) was produced by Comptoir Français du Film Production.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by The Film Detective.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no technical expert, I thought most of this 4K restoration looked pretty fabulous – there are some mild color-changes during a few sequences early on, and the film’s set-up events lose a bit of cohesion due to some trickery turning everything an overexposed red; sound is excellent, though it does dip occasionally as well as struggles with the occasionally ‘tinny’ quality common with older recordings.  As for the special features?  Interested viewers are in for a treat as the disc boasts an audio commentary by film critic Tim Lucas, a documentary exploring the history of Hercules on film, the 1992 MST3K broadcast version of the flick, and an essay by film historian C. Courtney Joyner also looking at three men who played Hercules at the height of the Italian movie craze (circa 1955-1965).  It’s a fabulous package, one that can keep viewers invested for a few hours of entertainment.

Recommended.  This Hercules was clearly made at a time when motion picture production was simpler – not so many special effects and visual hoopla was necessary to convey the story – and perhaps aptly demonstrates what the whole swords-and-sandals era of filmmaking was about.  Performances might not be perfect all around, but peplum pictures – not an insult so far as this writer is concerned – were a bit more focused on the spectacle than they were the spectacular.  Lastly, the film sports some incredible set production value in its latter half, and that alone managed to keep my interest when some of the pacing lagged.

In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at The Film Detective provided me with a Blu-ray of Hercules And The Captive Women by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

It’s a lesson worth remembering especially during today’s trying times: plagues bring out the worst in people.

Today, the maskless among us enduring this modern incarnation of “the plague” get called all sorts of things: selfish, uncaring, dangerous, ignorant, intolerant, etc.  That I’m aware, none of us have yet been accused of being in consort with the Devil.  (I’d imagine that’s coming in the next wave, though Progressives hate acknowledging the Devil as that would perhaps imply that there may be a God, too.)  In the not-so-distant past, those who wouldn’t toe-the-line were often disparaged by their cultural “betters” – namely the royals and the clergy – and were (gasp!) burned at the stake.  They were called witches, and they suffered a grim fate.

Humanity’s flirtation with casting out demons by spiritual means is, debatably, one of the darkest chapters in all of history.  For better or worse, The Reckoning tries to pull back the curtain of time and take a glance at where we were but, unfortunately, all of this feels like its intended as an indictment on today for the past having ever rolled out the way it did.

What can I do about it now?

Well, I think all involved here want me to feel bad because I’m a man.  Men are, after all, the bane of existence.  (Entertainers are constantly telling us this.)  I can only ask, “Does that include the man who directed this?  ‘Cause he’s won a lot of awards.”

Just asking.

See what I mean about plagues bringing out the worst?

(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 product packaging: “After losing her husband during the Great Plague, Grace Haverstock is unjustly accused of being a witch and placed in the custody of England’s most ruthless witch hunter, Judge Moorcroft.  Forced to endure physical and emotional torture while steadfastly maintaining her innocence, Grace must face her own inner demons as the Devil himself starts to work his way into her mind.”

Succinctly, The Reckoning is a perfunctory film.

While it flirts and toys with some very meaty ideas – life, death, family, devilry, and redemption – this Neil Marshall scripted and directed flick relies heavily on its visuals to effectively convey a sense of dread and doom instead of legitimately taking viewers on an up-close-and-personal look at the past, using history as a grim, politicized metaphor for today’s COVID-obsessed culture.  Don’t get me wrong: it looks damn pretty – just as does sumptuous lead Charlotte Kirk (who also had a hand in the script) – but feels devoid of any true narrative impact.  How do I know?  Well, Kirk looks as grand after four days on the rack as she does before the Inquisition.  What does that tell audiences about the fate of their souls?  Don’t worry: at least you’ll keep your looks.

Thankfully, there is a Reckoning here, as the title promises.  Grace is forced to endure Fifty Shades Of Medieval Gray as the story appears obsessed with the subversive sensuality of torture instead of its grim reality.  Sequences feel staged for maximum prettiness instead of maximum effect, making me wonder if all of this might’ve worked better as the old school boddice-ripper evoked at times; exploitation be damned, it still all ends up in Rambo territory in the last reel as the young lass outsmarts Moorcroft, her captors, and the town Squire.  Her closing moment – standing on a shoreline with sword in hand – is more akin to a Stallone actioner than it is any cerebral drama meant to inspire audiences to question the world around them, that’s for sure.

Kirk’s Grace doesn’t take audiences with her on much of a hero’s journey.  Despite her descent into a kind of staged madness, Marshall captures her repeatedly with the delicateness of those Star Trek fuzzy shots always reserved for female guest stars.  Grace spends the bulk of the picture enduring one heartbreaking loss after another but looking like she just emerged from a magazine cover shoot.  If that’s meant to be a message of empowerment for today’s frail egos, it’s one delivered with absolutely no logic.  Now, I’m not speaking from experience, but I suspect burying my dead spouse six feet in mud while standing in the pouring rain practically requires I get dirty.  Grace does this but still looks fabulous.  Go figure.
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For all I know, Marshall and Kirk conspired to rush this one into production because of the worldwide COVID crisis.  (I freely admit I'm a natural cynic.)  Perhaps they thought they could – ahem – make good mileage (if not good money) out of an allegory of how those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it … but were that the case I can only hope they’re already cashed those checks.  This film won’t be around in five hundred years.  Because of the unwillingness to establish a dominant tone – are we condemning man here or simply the male tendency to live voyeuristically (while engaging in it, I might add) – this particular Reckoning fails to flourish and just … well … meanders.

If the storyteller dares to open Pandora’s box of questions, dribbling out tiny little bits of what could’ve been or could’ve happened, then there’s also a responsibility to answer the queries raised and not leave them dangling for viewers to figure out all by their lonesome.  Was Grace’s mother a witch or wasn’t she?  Did mom “mark” Grace with a sigil of the dark arts or was that just some bad, unfortunate birthmark?  Since Grace is seen communicating with her dead husband and mother, were these simply the visions of the tortured prisoner or something more?  And how about that big, horned Devil in Grace’s cell?  Real?  Or imagined?  If imagined, then why did Moorcroft see it, too?

Bringing these elements to life introduces a level of spirituality along with the supernatural.  Ignoring that you, as the storyteller, put them there and left them unanswered much less unresolved is more than a bit irresponsible: it’s downright lazy.  Think of it as cinematic trickery invoked solely to shock the audience and not truly advance the story or its ideas.  Horror films do it all the time, but dramas?  Well, dramas should know better.

Dare I suggest that there’s a risk involved in exploring (or exploiting) female empowerment issues against the backdrop of the supernatural?  Think what you may about the moviegoing audience, but I tend to believe that folks like to keep their reality and fantasies somewhat separate, respectfully delineated between ‘what is’ and ‘what isn’t’ and not weighted down (or bulked up) with politicized rhetoric.  What happened five hundred years ago – while it could be analogous to things going on today – also needs to be properly contextualized in its own era: what we knew about disease and sanity back then is a far, far cry from what we know today.  Using the past as a vehicle to empower women today without reminding audiences of the proper context ignores the strides we’ve made culturally and kinda/sorta does a disservice to mankind and – ahem – womankind, doesn’t it?

Still, it’s efficient.  At least, there’s that.  And maybe it deserves to find an audience on that level alone.  As I implied above, there’s nothing wrong with a little exploitation solely when it’s at exploitation’s sake.  Dabbling in escapism with political leanings can be refreshing, though methinks the actors and actresses needed a bit more scenery to chew on here.

But, by gosh, wasn’t Grace pretty to look at … even when suffering?  Why, she even masturbated in her cell while she was suffering!  (Don’t blame me: Marshall and Kirk wrote this thing.)

If that doesn’t smack of exploitation, then I don’t know what does.

​The Reckoning (2020) is produced by Fourth Culture Films and a handful of other participants.  DVD distribution for this particular release is being handled by the reliable RLJE Films.  As for the technical specifications?  Despite some TV grade special effects, the bulk of the film is exceedingly well made: the sights and sounds captured are very effective.  Alas, if you’re looking for special features, then you’ve only some deleted bits (nothing I found all that special) to absorb … and that’s a miss.  It would’ve been nice to hear from these storytellers about what they intended and maybe even how well they felt they either hit or missed the mark as I found myself uncertain once all was said and done.

RECOMMENDED.  The Reckoning is a reasonably well-made film.  It’s reasonably presented with reasonable period details, reasonable acting, and reasonably well inspired by true events.  And perhaps that’s my issue with it: it’s all too reasonable from start-to-finish.  A tale like this could’ve used a bit more insanity: pushing the senses to the limits might’ve helped this one rise to the occasion more strongly or, at least, more memorably.  Instead, it feels like a slightly undercooked melodrama with only benign hints of the supernatural to prop up some tenuous ideas and some impressive accents.  Maybe think of this as some Medieval After School special with the occasional butt shot.  It’s reasonably good … but I wanted a bit more than a predictable Rambo-esque finish.

​In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the folks at RLJE Films and Shudder provided me with a DVD of The Reckoning by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ