What a pain in the neck …
 
Folks, because the central bugaboo of mine here at SciFiHistory.Net is promoting the history of genre entertainment, I’m sometimes challenged by a certain contingent of readers to craft reviews more toward a recounting of legacy as opposed to my actual thoughts on a certain production.  In other words, some readers occasionally want me to provide more of an education about why a particular film or franchise should be as highly regarded as it is.  While recounting a respectful amount of trivia might be interesting, my issue with such an approach is that information is largely available elsewhere while my resident thoughts on the picture aren’t … so I wouldn’t exactly be ‘true to my school’ if I left out part and parcel of what brings an audience to this exit off the Information Superhighway, now would I?
 
Still, there are times when I’m willing to meet the crowd in the middle, and such is the case with my look at 1931’s groundbreaking Dracula from Universal Pictures.  Directed by Tod Browning (who may’ve also had his hands somewhat in developing the screenplay), the picture introduced screen legend Bela Lugosi in the role that no only made him famous but also pioneered a brand new wave of Horror releases from the studio, assuring the corporate suits for perhaps the very first time that audiences were fond of being scared silly.  From what I’ve read, the film went on to spectacular box office results, becoming one of the biggest hits of that year … but the project’s journey from its beginnings in the words of Bram Stoker to prominence up in the shadows and lights is one that deserves a bit of coverage for interested parties.
 
(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:
“Transylvanian vampire Count Dracula bends a naïve real estate agent to his will, then takes up residence at a London estate where he sleeps in his coffin by day and searches for potential victims by night.”
 
First published in 1897, Stoker’s Dracula certainly set fire to the world of literature in a way no one expected.  I’ve read that it wasn’t exactly a publishing sensation despite some positive critical praise, but over the next few years the book arguably became regarded as the ‘source document’ for imitators, writers, and screenwriters who sought to put their own spin on the bloodsucker’s legend.  It didn’t take long for some successful stage plays to draw the attention of filmmakers, though I’ve always read that studios were a bit reticent to embrace something so decidedly dark.
​

In fact, several folks online have written about the fact that Universal Pictures – in the post-production build-up for their big screen adaptation – wasn’t convinced mainstream audiences would show up in theaters to experience something that was so obviously meant to inspire fear and dread.  As a consequence, the pre-release advertising campaign was instead designed to promote the forthcoming Dracula as a story grounded on a timeless passion … a veritable romance for the ages.  It wasn’t until the film was finally available for public consumption and was a bona fide hit that studio executives were convinced that Horror – as a cinematic genre – had the potential to be incredibly lucrative, and Universal Pictures – perhaps more than any other company – opted to seize the opportunity.  Thus, the Universal Monsters Universe was established, with the Count drawing first blood.
 
However, it is worth noting that outside of box office receipts (and the establishment of a franchise) Dracula didn’t exactly win accolades beyond.
 
It took home no Academy Awards nominations or trophies; and it wasn’t until decades later that the film took steps forward critically in the eyes of those who evaluate cinematic achievements.  While the film was certainly influential in the furtherance of genre production, that first picture still seemed kinda/sorta lost in the shuffle of endless vampire flicks who perhaps basked in greater limelight.  In 2000, Dracula was rightfully inducted into the U.S.’s National Film Registry – the organization that seeks to preserve pictures for their ongoing contributions to art; and over the next few years the feature was celebrated as part of the American Film Institute’s various lists celebrating the best thrills, villains, and quotes from all of cinema.
 
So … at this point the question becomes why did the film kinda/sorta languish in theatrical oblivion for so long?
 
The truth is that it didn’t – it’s the kind of title that likely had and maintained a solid following across the few generations of Horror fans that have sprung up in the interim – but, yes, maybe Dracula – the original – hasn’t been given as much love since there has been an astonishing number of variations from storytellers around the world.  The classic vampire remains one of the screen’s most cherished creations, so much so that not a year goes by that audiences – home or theatrical – receive something all-new retread, reboot, or re-imagination … but not every one of them answers to the title of ‘Count.’
 
Count Dracula (as played by Bela Lugosi) is, apparently, looking for a change of scenery, hoping to get out of his Transylvania castle for some new digs in turn-of-the-century London.  He conscripts a savvy real estate professional, Renfield (Dwight Frye); and, together, they set sail for a new land of opportunity.  On the way, Renfield essentially loses his mind – a development requiring his being institutionalized upon arrival – and the Count sets up shop in the rundown Carfax Abbey that just so happens to sit on the land next door to Seward Sanitorium, the exact place where Renfield has been locked away for his own safety.  Hilarity ensues … and by ‘hilarity’ I mean that the vampire gets hot and heavy in pursuit of new fleshly consorts.
​

Forgiving the pure contrivance of the script (attributed to Louis Bromfield, director Browning, Max Cohen, Dudley Murphy, Frederick Stephani, Louis Stevens, and the screenwriters of two stage play adaptations as well as Stoker’s novel), Dracula pokes and plods along a bit more than it flows easy-peasy.  Motion picture production being what it was in the late 1920’s and early 1930’s, a great deal of exposition was required here and there to move the story forward; and the pacing feels off in more than a few spots because of it.  All of London seems conveniently packed right on top of itself – the opera, Carfax Abbey, the hospital, etc. – so much so that one might wonder how it is that Dracula was able to get away with drinking the blood of his victims without so much as leaving a single eyewitness ever!  The only people who ostensibly can see the Count are those required by the story; so, yes, the narrative stretches what little credibility it has in a few strategic places.
 
Beyond Dracula and Renfield, the remainder of the cast – while good in their respective ways – don’t get much of a big screen introduction.  Instead, many feel almost inserted into the affair because they’re meant to play some part – villain or victim – in some later sequence.  Lucy Weston (Frances Dade) occupies the screen long enough to become one of the Count’s earliest exploits in London.  Dr. Seward (Herbert Bunston) exists largely as a pawn who asks questions of Professor Van Helsing (Edward Van Sloan) so that the audience might be kept abreast of “the science” via his exposition.  And Mina Seward (Helen Chandler) is there to serve as the next tender morsel on our monster’s list even though her heart has already been promised to John Harker (David Manners).  Of these supporting players, it’s only Van Helsing who truly matters, and Sloan does give viewers something to watch that both explains and explores the villainy at the center of the story.
 
Undoubtedly, it’s Lugosi and Frye’s work that makes the film particularly memorable.  In fact, smart watchers might see this pair of performances as two sides of the same wicked coin.
 
Renfield’s journey through madness and, ultimately, death is handled brilliantly by Frye.  In the picture’s beginning, he’s little more than your run-of-the-mill businessman, one who’ll cross an ocean in pursuit of sealing the right deal.  He loses not only his soul in the process but also his mind; and we’re treated to some of Dracula’s best vignettes when he tries at all costs to both serve and defy ‘his master,’ reduced at times to a babbling fool who subsists entirely on a diet of flies and spiders.  When all he wanted was to be – well – wanted, he inevitably pays the highest price possible in the film’s final reel, thrown lifeless down a grand staircase once the Count is truly finished with him.
 
Academics have written books on Lugosi’s work here.  While I’m not learned enough to even consider that task, I will say that the actor manages a level of screen charisma not often seen outside Horror.  He glares defiantly from the shadows.  He stands like some immovable force not even time can crumble.  There’s a physical poetry to some of his movements, perhaps incorporating some of the animal cunning long rumored to be part of a vampire’s arsenal of skills.  Though his screen death is more than a bit underwhelming, it is interesting to know that he got the chance to reprise his take on the Count years later when he shared the screen with a popular comedy duo aboard Abbott And Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948), a flick some have credited as giving the Universal Monsters Universe the shot in the arm it needed to rise again in theaters.
 
Lastly, much has been hypothesized about how Lugosi spoke when inhabiting this character, giving rise to about as unique and memorable a vocal performance as it was physical.  Interestingly enough, I’ve read that this ‘accent’ was never one the actor deliberately intended: evidently, English was a second language he was learning phonetically at the time, and the result of his speech cadence – a lilting and oddly romantic tone – was just the way it came out in the process.
 
Recommended.

​-- EZ

For better or for worse, I’m a huge fan of independent features.
 
I say this because it doesn’t always serve me well as a critic.  I’ve spend untold hours invested in viewing and/or reviewing these lesser-advertised projects because (A) I like discovering folks who accomplished far more with far less; (B) I think it’s a travesty that so much effort go into anything and no one show up; and (C) I’ve found that it gives me access to a wider audience and readership of folks who truly love film – as a medium – and not as a ‘product.’  There’s a difference – one more expansive than most folks could possibly imagine – and I guess I’d just rather hang with those who appreciate what big and small flicks have to say as opposed to just the studio tentpole releases.  I guess it’s a dirty job … and, yet, I’m still happy to keep doing it.
 
As for the ‘worse’ part of it?  Well, yes, I’ve probably experienced more than a fair share of duds.  Given the fact that some storytellers just don’t have as compelling an idea or an overall production strategy as do others, I emerge at the far end of some projects at a loss as to what I’m supposed to glean from it, if anything.  While I do try to always consider the effort, I have on a few occasions simply opted to say nothing about a less-than-effective affair not because it’s beneath me but because I’ve found nothing substantive worth offering.  Though it doesn’t happen often, it does happen.  What can I say?  I’m human, after all.
 
1990’s The Wrong Door is the kind of experience that at first blush does have more to offer than many other indie flicks that may’ve had a bigger budget, some better bells and whistles, or even a marquee name here or there.  There’s a solid attempt to not only tell a story but also do something with it textually and technically, even if that work might not exactly pay off as successfully as it could have with better finances.  Clearly, all involved knew what they wanted; and the end result – while flawed – might still provoke the kind of discussion that small circles filled with film nerds relish the chance to participate.
 
(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:
“Ted falls in love and is involved in murder after accidentally knocking on the wrong door.”
 
At times, The Wrong Door feels very much like those involved with it both behind-the-scenes as well as the onscreen talent knew they were reaching for a height they couldn’t quite achieve.  As conceived and executed by the team of James Groetsch, Shawn Korby, and Bill Weiss, the film tries to establish itself early on as a crafty thriller grounded with an everyman lead who finds himself in dire straits that might seal his doom unless he can use his own smarts to outwit those who would do him harm before it’s all too late.  Some of the big screens greatest auteurs have dabbled in such territory, and even a few of them have failed to hit the marks this trio and their cast accomplished with a vastly simpler – and cheaper – approach.
 
Ted Farrell (played by Matt Felmlee) eeks out an existence putting himself through college by taking odd jobs, of which serving as a singing telegram deliveryman just happens to keep him busiest.  One night dressed as a court jester, he’s on his way to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to a particularly raucous crowd when he inadvertently knocks on the wrong door, coming face-to-face with a fellow female student who is obviously in need of assistance.  Initially, he declines any comfort; but later when he knocks on her door again, he finds her gravely injured with an angry killer in hot pursuit to finish the job.  Before the night is through, Ted will have to unravel both the mystery of what happened as well as figure out how to outsmart those trying to cover up the deed before the cops can bring them to justice.
​
While most might point out that, yes, this kind of thing has been done before if not done quite often, what makes Door more than a bit different is that all of this is accomplished as an independent feature, shot on Super 8 film stock, and at an extremely low budget.  Misters Groetsch, Korby, and Weiss chased a mighty big dream and – to a humble point – even found it achieved quite nicely.  Granted, such success may not have made any of them household names or delivered the kind of wealth and notoriety others have enjoyed; but I exist in circles where good efforts and good deeds still deserve a bit of reflection, and I’m all-too-happy to provide it in this space.  Door is a good thriller, and it can stand comfortably shoulder-to-shoulder with a great number of features that rather formulaically go about their business and reach an effective conclusion.
​

Now, none of this is to diminish the picture’s narrative flaws; and, yes, there are more than a few.
 
Audiences must suspend a pretty big level of disbelief with Ted’s actions here as never at any truly authentic point does he behave any smarter than other characters who find themselves theatrically between a rock and a hard place.  What this means is that he makes as many bad decisions as he does good, often times going left instead of right because it allows the script to move forward as opposed to grinding to a halt sensibly.  (Once he’s free, why not ‘call the police?’  This is often the Achilles’ heel of characters trapped in Horror features, and Ted’s equally oblique on too many occasions.)  Given that most of the plot unspools at night seemingly in the middle of nowhere, our lead has apparently no trouble with knowing both where he is and where he must go in order for the story to progress … and, sorry, that’s all a bit too ‘magical.’  Plus, if he’s authentically as crafty as we learn he is in the conclusion, then wouldn’t he have made some better decisions along the way?
 
Also, the obvious theatricality of the final reel practically requires that our hero have gone to great lengths to orchestrate his ‘gotcha’ on his adversaries; and it’s the kind of effort that anyone with a brain (or watching closely) will question for veracity’s sake as it kinda/sorta defies logic.  (Why carry the sought corpse into his upstairs bedroom?  When and why did he engineer all of this sound work to set the trap?  How exactly did the thugs find his address in the middle of the night?  When did he find the time to go and get his impounded car back the next day given the fact that it most likely would’ve been seized as evidence by the police?)  There is one answer to some of this – the directors kinda/sorta imply at one point that some of this might have been imagined – but it doesn’t hold water given the flick’s last scene … unless there were indeed elements that Ted fabricated for the purpose of completing a class assignment … but I’ll still call foul.
 
Now, the deficiencies still didn’t eliminate the bit of fun I had with Door.  It’s well-made and well-intentioned consistently enough that it worked as a potboiler.  It might be a solid example to share with budding filmmakers to show what can be done on a budget, though I’d still caution such yarn spinners to worry a bit more about plot and plot holes than perhaps all involved did here.
 
The Wrong Door (1990) was produced by directors James Groetsch, Shawn Korby, and Bill Weiss.  DVD distribution has been coordinated by the fine folks at Visual Vengeance and Wild Eye Releasing.  As for the technical specifications?  Well … while I’m no trained video expert, I can tell you that it’ll likely offset any initial surprises by going in knowing this was shot entirely on Super 8 film.  So, yes, it’s a bit hard to see in spots – night sequences (which there are a lot of) can be particularly trying here and there – but the sound mix is surprisingly effective throughout.  It’s an old-school independent production, and it looks it.
 
Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Well, buckle up because there’s quite the assortment, including: 
​

• This is an all-new 2K HD transfer from the original Super 8mm film elements;
• Two audio commentaries;
• A behind-the-scenes documentary;
• Cast and crew interviews;
• Additional images and trailers; and
• Some physical inserts with new artwork and a bit extra.

 
Seriously, it’s a fabulous collection, one that should have aficionados happy to spend the extra time uncovering the goodies.
 
Recommended.
 
The Wrong Door (1990) is imperfect, but it’s still a gem that sparkles in a few clever ways.  Taking a big budget idea but delivering it in such a low-cost way might’ve worked wonders in the early 1990’s, and the result is interesting steadily enough that I can see casual viewers embracing the charm … so long as they’re accepting of the questionable production quality.  At times grainy and hard to see, the best audience might be nothing more than budding storytellers who can learn a little ‘something-something’ from tried to do what they’re doing years before and missed the mark a wee bit.
 
In the interest of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Visual Vengeance provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Wrong Door (1990) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

The dirty little secret involving comic book movies is that there was a time when they were all a simpler, gentler enterprise.
 
Now, I know what you’re thinking: somehow, we culturally owe a debt to Marvel Entertainment from ramping them up into so many bigger-than-life experiences, right?  Taking the medium from panels printed on cheap paper stock and elevating it to modern day Shakespeare?  Catapulting the entire entertainment industry to unforeseen heights and giving folks who relish cosplay a whole new second career to make a name for themselves?
 
Well … yes and no.
 
You see, even 1978’s Superman: The Movie or 1989’s Batman could be considered alongside anything Marvel has done since it emerged as ‘the contender’ on the cinematic scene.  My point in all of this is that – more often than not – comic book films of an earlier age were only reasonably budgeted affairs and not high-priced magnum opuses, ones crafted with an identity that perhaps meant something to those long-time comic book readers and mainstream audiences.  I’d argue that the aforementioned Superman and Batman were exceptions to the rule and far from the norm at the box office.  Presently, Marvel seems to be proverbially lost ‘in the weeds,’ putting out screen and TV fare that barely (if at all) resembles the source material it derives from; and DC still can’t seem to figure out how to tie its spandex shoes.  If you must, then hate the simpler stuff like Hero At Large (1980), The Rocketeer (1991), The Phantom (1996), Steel (1997), or Punisher: War Zone (2008); yet projects like this still get made and some even earn cult audiences because the feel closer in tone to what regular folks might want from a comic book adaptation.
 
For that matter, I think it’s safe to throw a little something-something like Black Mask (1996) into the mix.  From what I understand, the theatrical film is an adaptation based on Chinese-language comic from 1992; and it stars martial artist and box office sensation Jet Li in the role of a renegade mutant (of sorts) who feels no pain or remorse thanks to genetic engineering by some shadowy government agency.  However, when these super soldiers somehow turn against their makers, the powers that be sought to have them swiftly and justly eradicated.  Escaping the onslaught, Li takes up a life of solitude until he learns that fellow agents survived and are conspiring with forces outside of China to potentially overthrow the system … an act he cannot allow.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A survivor of a supersoldier project must fight his former comrades as a masked hero.”
​

One of the problems in drawing so deeply on inspirations of other works is that you – as a storyteller – run the risk of producing a film that lacks its own unique identity; and therein lies my central issue with so much of Black Mask.  Certain sequences feel like they’re a bit too reminiscent of, say, 1987’s RoboCop, 1989’s Batman, 1992’s Universal Soldier, or even 1966’s The Green Hornet television show; and – as a consequence – viewers might disconnect from the effort when they realize how much cooler such-and-such was when other heroes did it.  While imitation might be the greatest form of flattery, it can also be suicide if it lacks the emotional resonance backed up by endearing characters whom the audience wants to care about.  Sadly, Mask needed something to distance itself from other actioners, and it never quite recovered from that delinquency.
 
To his credit, director Daniel Lee makes the most of his two greatest assets: Jet Li and his leading lady, Karen Mok.  And I’ll even give him props for some of what he did by adding Ching Wan Lau as a kinda/sorta mentor/sidekick with a bad attitude only weakened by his good heart.
 
The super-clandestine Project 701 sought to create the ultimate soldier for China, apparently stripping ordinary men and women of their pain receptors so that they could move relentlessly against any adversary on any battlefield.  However, before the benefits of such a force could be weighed, the mysterious power brokers decided to shut the program down, opting to kill off these soldiers one-by-one in some grisly showdown.  Those who survived went underground, seemingly intent upon seeking redemption at a time and place of their choosing … and, seriously, all of this happens in Black Mask’s opening credit sequence.
 
In fact, viewers will have to watch said credits closer than those of lesser films in order to capture all of the necessary backstory.  Thankfully, there isn’t a great amount of detail, but anyone who misses the finer points might be a tad lost once ‘the rest of the story’ starts unfurling.  Tsui Chik (played by Li) was one of these super soldiers, but outside of such government control the man has settled down to a kinder, gentler life as a big city librarian.  Now content to spend his days entranced with the Dewey Decimal System and the assortment of odd players who fill out the remainder of the library’s staff, Tsui lives for nothing more than the escape of a good book.
 
However, some nefarious forces are set upon taking down the men and women of the greater Chinese drug cartels; and Tsui can’t help but insert himself into the fray only to help his best friend – police detective ‘Rock’ Shek Wai-Ho (Ching Wan Lau) – in uncovering the mastermind to such a plot as well as keeping his city and its residents safe from harm.  Once Tsui realizes that his surviving ‘brothers and sisters’ of Project 701 have banded together and are instigating this crime wave for their own nefarious reasons (which apparently ties into destabilizing the Chinese political hierarchy), he decides that only he is capable of bringing an end to the bloodshed even at the expense of his own life.
​

Basically, Black Mask – as an entity – functions similarly to DC Comics’ seminal character Batman: he’s a vigilante who works outside the legal system but entirely with the commitment to serve justice appropriately.  Just as Batman has an allegiance with Commissioner Gordon that makes his work possible, Black Mask maintains a relationship with Rock, who (yes!) inevitably figures out Tsui’s secret identity but manages to keep it all hush-hush.  As one might expect, the two of them will have to join forces to see their mutual goals achieved; and all of this predictability does underscore how similar comic book stories are despite what some might suggest is a cultural divide.
 
Where Black Mask does add something to the equation is the insertion of a minor love interest: Tracy Lee (Karen Mok) is one of Tsui’s fellow librarians, and she’s a bit smitten with the quiet but sensitive outsider.  Though the script never gives their pairing any great legitimacy, it becomes clear – Mask saves her life, and then she kinda/sorta returns the favor by helping him out of a tight spot – that the two maintain feelings for one another despite never quite consummating the relationship.  As a result, they do spar verbally with one another; and this back-and-forth serves to give Mask something rarely seen in Superhero/Fantasies … namely a hint at the seminal ‘battle of the sexes.’
 
While such a narrative element is scarce, it arguably had its grounding in the Lois Lane and Clark Kent relationship as portrayed in Superman: The Movie (1978) and Superman II (1980).  Our intrepid reporter Lane (the late Margot Kidder) seized a commanding presence easily out from under her milquetoast partner Kent (the late Christoper Reeve), embodying their constant tête-á-tête with dialogue not seen onscreen since the days when Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy matched wits in such features as Woman Of The Year (1942), Keeper Of The Flame (1943), Adam’s Rib (1949), and Pat And Mike (1952).  Though Mask lacks the gender backdrop as relevancy that made the Hepburn/Tracy pairings memorable, the Tsui/Tracy relationship has the same textual spine: somewhere deep inside, these two care not only for one another but also their respective places in this world, and they’ll unavoidably have to find some means to collaborate as only the best screen characters do.
 
Where Mask does insert a bit more stuffing as it relates to trials of the heart is with the inclusion of a suggested romantic past with Yeuk Laan (Françoise Yip).  Trained in the ways of soldiering by Tsui, Yeuk now finds herself at odds spiritually and emotionally with her teacher.  When her efforts to bring him back into the fold alongside the other survivors of Project 701 fails, she’s given the unfortunate task of assassinating him so that the group can achieve their goal unfettered.  This requires her to ignore both her feelings for the man as well as his insistence that she turn away from this chosen life of crime, resulting in a unique romantic triangle between these two and Tracy.  Though the implied entanglement is present through much of the picture, it never becomes heavy-handed … because that would get in the way of the chopsocky … and chopsocky rules the day, don’t you know?
 
Without question, it’s the fights and fisticuffs that bring fans to projects of this sort, and Black Mask never fails.  Toying with these narrative similarities to other projects – i.e. Mask is clearly visually descended from Kato in the aforementioned Green Hornet series – never amounts to more than imitation because Li and Lau and the rest of the principles will be flying about every set piece in no time, administering kicks, swipes, jabs, punches, slaps, and blocks aplenty.  It might defy gravity as much as it does logic (or vice versa), but in that regard the film reaches and maintains a frenetic pace just as fans expect.
 
Black Mask (1996) was produced by Distant Horizon, Film Workshop, and Win’s Entertainment Ltd.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Eureka Entertainment.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to what’s been advertised as a 2K restoration to be exceptional good; there are a few sequences that explode rather quickly, thus giving off some minor loss of focus, but it’s not all that distracting.  Some special effects don’t quite translate as well as others in the upgrade – faux inserted explosions come off a bit heavy-handed here and there – so be prepared for to release a few unintended laughs.
​

As for the special features?
 
Well, now … buckle up.  This two-disc set has quite the assortment.  (Mind you: I’ve only received copies of discs, so I can’t speak to the efficacy of any printed materials included.)  In order to be as complete as possible, I’m doing the copy-and-paste from the publicity materials available on Blu-ray.com.
​
Disc One

• Uncut Hong Kong Version
• Commentary on Hong Kong Version by Frank Djeng
• Export Version
• Commentary on Export Version by Mike Leeder & Arne Venema
• Mega Shock!: A Chat With Mike Lambert is a great career overview of the stuntman's Hong Kong and Hollywood years.
• Andrew Heskins on Black Mask has some biographical and production data from this easternKicks critic.
• Leon Hunt on Black Mask features the author of Kung Fu Cult Masters: From Bruce Lee to Crouching Tiger.
• Archival Making Of Documentary
• Hong Kong Theatrical Trailer
• US Trailer #1
• US Trailer #2
• US Home Video Trailer

Disc Two

• Taiwan Version 
• Extended Version

 
Recommended.
 
I’ll admit that – unlike an awful lot of my critical contemporaries – I’m just not that big a fan of Jet Li, but he was one of the major driving forces that helped me find some enjoyment in Black Mask (1996).  Under his auspices, it’s a kinder, gentler, and yet still bloodier Superhero/Fantasy, one that could’ve used less kung fu antics and a few more character scenes.  (The stuff between him and co-stars Lau and Mok was so effective I’m disappointed there wasn’t more of it.)
 
In the interest of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Eureka Entertainment provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of Black Mask (1996) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

Longtime readers of SciFiHistory.Net know of my fondness for vampire flicks.
 
Yes, yes, and yes: some of the readership might insist this is only because I’ve self-published my very own novel in the wide, wide world of Horror yarnspinning.  But the truth is I’ve always had a fascination with monster movies – of which I think the bloodsuckers are included – chiefly because they usually don’t abide by the usual rules that make up that subculture of productions.  While most beasts operate around the idea that audiences might sympathize with, this particular branch of the Undead rarely if ever gets such treatment; and it makes for some very interesting stories sometimes staked out over multiple decades.  More than just pains in the neck, these Nosferatu are here to stay, and it’s to my delight.
 
Now, I’ll also concede that vampire stories have grown a bit – ahem – long in the tooth.  Having been around for well over a century (yes, even on film!), these characters only occasionally benefit from a bit of re-invention where perhaps they’re given a new, mystical power or some scribe figures out a way to present vamps with a bit of freshness.  2023’s The Last Voyage Of The Demeter – as an example – actually went back to elements of what’s long been considered the founding text of these upir: Bram Stoker’s “Dracula” introduces some of the facts about how the illustrious Count made his way from Bulgaria to London, postulating that the merchant ship known as the Demeter met with tragedy when it was consigned to transport the immortal legend in some secrecy.
 
One might think that using this construct the film would’ve both paid respects to the original text while paving the way for a potential new chapter in the growing pantheon of theatrical adventures of vampires … but – as often happens – today’s political leanings pretty exsanguinated what lifeblood there was in the creative beating heart and left the prospects for a new legacy better off dead.  Google.com reports that the project is considered a box office flop, crashing on the shores with less than half of its production budget recouped in ticket sales.
 
Sigh.
 
The Count deserved better.  But so did we.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A crew sailing from Varna (Bulgaria) by the Black Sea To England find that they are carrying very dangerous cargo.”
 
Whether one likes this or not, the original Dracula story is a decidedly and fundamentally masculine tale.
 
You see, the Count is a man.  Abraham Van Helsing?  Also a man.  While Dracula and what he does – seducing others to serve both his bidding and his appetites – might be a bit open to interpretation, the reality of his maleness cannot be separated from his mythology, thus perhaps inadvertently making statements about the existing patriarchy than author Stoker never intended but stand the test of time nonetheless.  In this adventure of good man chasing bad man in order to save mankind from its potential destruction, masculinity matters in more ways than a feminist might wish to admit … and removing that foundational context certainly puts any retelling at risk of being inferior and/or (gasp!) boring at the onset.
 
But … Hollywood and the wide expanse of the entertainment industry can’t help but pull the fangs out of anything remotely masculine these days, and the latest defrocking of the seminal Nosferatu brought back to the screen in 2023’s The Last Voyage Of The Demeter was particularly bloodless, though it didn’t need to be.  What screenwriters Bragi F. Schut and Zak Olkewicz accomplished – whether intentional or not – was to present a seafaring crew – perhaps the last bastion of uber-male compatriots who considered having a woman around was a curse – that couldn’t save itself from extinction much less last to the final reel if the petite Anna (played by the fetching Aisling Franciosi) hadn’t been aboard.
 
Good grief …
​

Clemens (Corey Hawkins) isn’t your typical Englishman of the period.  For starters, he’s black.  He’s well-educated.  Unable to find employment as a physician despite his educational pedigree, he traveled all the way to Varnan for an appointment, only to discover that racism wasn’t limited to just London, and the color of his skin left him mostly destitute.  When Captain Eliot arrives in port and requires a few extra hands for the journey back to London, Clemens leaps at the chance, a development that ultimately might spell doom had he known what lay ahead on the open seas for the Demeter: its mysterious cargo is none other than Dracula himself – itself? – and the bloodsucker is going to need a meal or two that isn’t quite on the menu.
 
Structurally, Voyage works like any gothic mystery, at least for a time.  One by one, the crew fall to whatever force is hiding in the darkest corners of their ship; but it isn’t until Clemens discovers a young woman, Anna, amongst the packages that he begins piecing together the puzzle that eludes Eliot, his first mate Wojchek (David Dastmalchian), and the other men.  Up to that point, the film achieves an appreciable balance – brains is required as much as brawn in mounting the group’s defense – and, yet, the screenwriters couldn’t showing just how inept all of them are when Anna goes part-Rambo.  Granted, they make modest efforts to package her heroic deeds under the perspective that ‘she just knows better’ because she grew up in a village taunted for ages by the seminal vampire; but it still gets damn goofy when only the young lady – who likely never fired a rifle – is the only one with smarts to shoot the lock of the captain’s cabin door in the midst of a crisis.
 
Argh.  What’s a man to do?
 
Well, if Voyage is any indication, it’s man’s job to not only die but die without honor, as only Anna herself is afforded such distinction.  Why, it’s only she who knows to go off all by her lonesome on some floating debris, infected from her bite from her immortal master, and to go up in flames with the romantic and poetic rise of the morning sun.  While the men are left to bleed out in silence, Anna basks (and burns summarily) in the spotlight.
 
Good grief, indeed.
 
The Last Voyage Of The Demeter (2023) was produced by Dreamworks Pictures, Reliance Entertainment, Storyworks Productions, and a few other participating partners.  The film is presently available for physical or digital purchase on a variety of platforms.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to be exceptional from start-to-finish; there were a few sequences shot in dark and/or fog that left a bit to the imagination, but it wasn’t all that distracting.  Also, the opening sequence – a short bit that sets the stage of the Demeter being found abandoned on the shore – is some blatantly obvious (hence, bad) CGI, and methinks audiences deserved a bit better.  Lastly, as I viewed this via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
 
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
 
Though I went into The Last Voyage Of The Demeter (2023) with an open mind, I can out thinking that both director André Øvredal and his writing staff absolutely loathe the working man, emasculating each and every of their cast to the point of ridiculousness in this nearly two-hour vampire flick.  What could’ve emerged as a creative reset to a cinematic Monsters universe instead becomes mired in political predictability where men just aren’t good enough any more to make a stand against the forces of darkness.

​-- EZ

Folks, it’s been quite some time since I’ve had the opportunity to review a bit of something different – namely, a Japanese genre release with pornographic undertones – but you guessed it!  Today’s the day!  Buckle up, readers!  Things are about to get steamy in here!
 
Without going into a whole new level of education, let me politely summarize that the Japanese film machine generally doesn’t produce a vast array of adult films – called ‘Pink’ or ‘Pinku’ in the native country – but there are a handful of independent studios that have (cough cough) “made bank” with any number of features exploiting what men and women might do in private.  Those far more learned than me in this whole sub-culture of film production can speaks at length about the stylistic differences between, say, Western and Eastern pornography; but I’ve avoided a great deal of these pictures not because I’m a prude (I’m not!) but it’s been my experience that few of them incorporate Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror into the plot.  (Yes, I’m aware that anime embraces them to varying levels; but I’m chiefly dealing with live-action whatnot at this juncture.)  So while I’m no expert much less a casual connoisseur, I do request the occasional picture that does cross into such territory, and that’s the case today.
 
Of course, a name like Sexy S.W.A.T. Team (1998) might conjure up any number of notions as to what a viewer might expect; and yet the truth is that this S.W.A.T. is quite tame by all standards.  Not a single bullet is fired – can’t say the same for the (ahem) male instruments in question – and the violence is all very low key.  In fact, all it really has going for it thematically is a modestly clever idea and a run-time (just under 60 minutes) that makes all of its blemishes forgivable.
 
(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:
“Red alert!  A crime wave of women-groping perverts has flooded the Tokyo train system, and only a special all-female undercover police task force can stop it!  The common clue is that all of the victims see a strobing red light before they find themselves on the receiving end of public, sexual humiliation!  Asses will be grabbed!  Breasts will be kneaded!  And crotches will be sniffed!  All in (a day’s work – or –) the course of duty, for the Sexy SWAT Team!”
 
Well, if you’ve made it this far, then let me assure you that this earnest distraction going by the name of Sexy S.W.A.T. Team is, truly, only mildly sexy at best.  Of course, the women are fabulous to look at when they’re doing what they do – with clothes on or without – but it’s the witty concept that might tickle one’s funny bone more than anything salacious in here.
​

Working privately at the Brain Wave Institute, Dr. Smith has constructed the ultimate behavioral modification weapon.  He’s broken the barriers of Erotic Science by producing a pistol that fires a laser beam that positively affects the area of the brain that controls the female sex drive, turning an ordinarily chaste woman into a woman lothario of sorts.  Seeking sexual gratification, the afflicted will stop at nothing to see her appetite properly sated, no matter if the setting is public or private.  Once he has tested his new device on the luscious lab assistants who’ve rejected his advances, he now realizes that he can unleash such abhorrent technology on any woman-at-large … and that’s precisely what his assistant does!
 
Now, S.W.A.T. doesn’t go to any great lengths to define this world or its characters.  Fundamentally, this nifty little ray-gun-style machine is little more than a MacGuffin that’s employed strategically for the cast to – cough cough – ‘get it on,’ and, yes, they do here and there for largely more entertainment purposes than they do making cinematic history.  Seriously, all of this is done very tongue-in-cheek (I said TONGUE-IN-CHEEK, you perverts), and absolutely none of this is to be taken critically.  Once you realize that this – cough cough – special female-led division of the Tokyo police department operates out of what looks to be little more than a second-floor apartment in any big city tenement building, it becomes clear that this is all for laughs … and maybe even a little heavy breathing.
 
As for the – ahem – sensual particulars?
 
Even in that estimation, there’s not all that much to write home about.  S.W.A.T. being a product of the late 1990’s, I can assure you that a great deal of vastly more controversial projects had come out of Japan in the previous decade or two; and this one – other than its obvious camp appeal – is kinda/sorta disappointing.  The couplings are all very, very, very conventional (not that I’m complaining about conventional), and they only serve to advance a rather obvious joke that does pay-off in the final moments.  But when your film’s closing bits include the cast all standing around and/or dancing for their respective sequences in the end credits, it’s unmistakably clear that you weren’t supposed to take any of this as anything other than one big joke.
 
Sexy S.W.A.T. Team (aka Onna chikan sôsakan: Oshiri de shôbu!) (1998) was produced by Shintoho Company.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Sacrament and Kino Lorber.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I’m willing to venture a guess that this tasty affair was likely shot on home video; and there’s a respectable degree of what I’ll call ‘modest definition’ to the entire production.  It ain’t bad; it’s just a touch inferior.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Well, the disc includes some production stills, but that’s about all you have to tide you over until the next time, folks.  Yes, it’s a bit disappointing.
 
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
 
I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing nearly as many Japanese Pinku movies as clearly some have, but with a name like Sexy S.W.A.T. Team (1998) I guess I just expected more.  Granted, a few flicks I have reviewed have been vastly more subversive in nature, leaving S.W.A.T. incredibly tame by comparison.  A few bloated make-up and groping sequences don’t really do much more than to raise the blood pressure a few ticks; and each of the finishes leave far too much to one’s imagination.  What is this, director Watanabe?  Sesame Street?  I’ve seen more skin at the corner WalMart!
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary DVD of Sexy S.W.A.T. Team (1998) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

A few friends and I have an ongoing debate over what’s the greatest Science Fiction and Fantasy television series ever produced.
 
Staunchly, they maintain that Gene Roddenberry’s original Star Trek deserves the crown; and up until that show’s disappointing third season I’m willing to agree with them.  However, I’ve often suggested that Chris Carter’s inspired conspiracy yarn The X-Files did much more with far less than the stewards of Starfleet ever did.  Plus they had a longer go at it and somehow managed to retain an astonishing degree of integrity throughout 70-80% of it.  So by the volume of hours alone, I tend to give the nod to X, though – yes – Captain Kirk and company is often my comfort TV of choice when given the chance.
 
Not that it matters, I do tend to favor the works of Special Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully as well because they trampled deep into the heart of so, so, so many conspiracies … and I’ve always loved the good conundrum.  Unlike Trek, X has had few authentic imitators; while some lesser attempts have given it a good sailor’s try, nothing has quite come close to capturing the magic, mystery, and mysticism of life itself.  Because of The X-Files, I do tend to check out just about any like-minded theatrical projects that enter the realm of possibilities; and, thus, I was thrilled to take a gander at 2022’s Monolith at the request of Well Go USA Entertainment.
 
In short, the film is imperfect but in one of those mostly entertaining ways.  Clocking in at an impressive 104 minutes, there’s truly only meat on them bones, though I’m not entirely certain the cast and crew stuck the landing in such a way as to please the majority of their audience.  As of today’s date, it maintains (roughly) a 60 score (out of 100) amongst both critics and casual viewers; and this strongly implies to me that it almost squarely lands in that spot between good and just-above-good.  Where (oh, where?) did it go wrong?  I have a few ideas myself …
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A headstrong journalist whose investigative podcast uncovers a strange artifact, an alien conspiracy, and lies at the heart of her own story.”
 
Must every journey have a destination that’s understood?
 
Well, film journeys that resonate with mainstream audiences typically do; and I fear a failure to answer questions clearly might very well serve as an anchor to an otherwise interesting departure that is so very much of Monolith.  Essentially, it functions very much like a one-woman stage show cleverly adapted theatrically by director Matt Vesely from Lucy Campbell’s ‘nod-and-a-wink’ script.  Together, they’ve conceived what looks to be a winning conspiracy but could -- depending upon one’s interpretation – might wind up being little more than a descent into madness all orchestrated by a failed journalist-turned-podcaster (played by Lily Sullivan) who is given no name … a curious choice but one that might align with the project’s preferred ambiguousness.
 
(Since I don’t have a name for her character, I’m just going to call her Lily.)
 
On the heels of a major reporting failure, Lily is shuffled from one editorial task to another, being given a chance at redemption with hosting a podcast called ‘Beyond Believable’ in which she’ll spend time exploring and/or debunking breaking stories for an online audience.  Podcasts, after all, are all the rage, so why not put her investigative skills to good use in a format less likely to garner litigious inquiries?  However, it doesn’t take long for the lady to find herself at the beating heart of what appears to be a global conspiracy: these supernaturally-powered black bricks have been affecting the lives of others around the world, and what does their appearance at this time and place in our history mean for all of mankind?
 
Well …
 
Here’s my central issue with all of Monolith, and it really does boil down to something relatively simple: at the outset, Vesely and Campbell establish their story is being told by what’s already been proven as an ‘unreliable narrator.’  Lily – as a journalist – is presented as fully flawed.  While we’re not given the particulars involved with what appears to be a pretty horrific scandal resulting from her lack of ethics, there’s little doubt left that she committed a massive screw-up, so much so that she’s been walled off away from others and left to live out her days doing what suffices as ‘investigative reportage’ entirely in isolation.  When any tale evolves from unreliable narrators, I’m suspect at each stage in the journey.  Frankly, everyone should be.  As a consequence, I found myself having a hard time believing the elements strategically lining up the way these did.
​

Still, Monolith perseveres despite revolving around a flawed character.  Mind you: as the story gets deeper and deeper as Vesely and Campbell keep layering on the possibilities, there are even vastly more significant reasons to doubt Lily’s veracity.  It becomes very clear in the second half that, as a reporter, she might have the worst memory of record of any journalist – given her decidedly close association to everything that sets this ball in motion – and it’s a pretty hefty oversight used to basically pull the wool over the eyes of the viewing audience.  Some might feel cheated or lied to – is that Lily’s previous sin? – but the story does find a way to keep moving forward even when it appears even those behind-the-camera were invested in such trickery.
 
Sadly, there’s just no effective resolution to the story as plotted out … and – make no mistake – all of this was clearly plotted out to lead us to the final destination.
 
There’s an irrepressible nebulousness to the film’s MacGuffin: we never learn the truth behind these black bricks.  They’re the whole reason we’re sticking with Lily’s perspective; and – depending upon one’s perspective – a theory could be proposed that they aren’t even real, the end result of some macabre kind of mass hysteria.  While the visuals do harken back to the ideas and themes that may’ve elevated 1956’s stellar Invasion Of The Body Snatchers into our collective consciousness, Monolith’s finale plays out more like a fever dream wherein our chief crackpot finally lost all her marbles.  Without a bit more, I can’t say more … and I do feel a bit let down with where this one left me.
 
I thought I was getting The X-Files.
 
Instead, it was a case file from the looney bin.
 
Lastly and to the feature’s credit, Monolith earned an extra bit of love from screenings on the film festival circuit.  I don’t find that much of a surprise, frankly, as this aesthetically feels like the kind of project that might resonate a bit more strongly with fans of the avant-garde.  It’s been my experience that they’re generally willing to overlook a bit of narrative deficiency only if their fancies are still tickled; and it’s very likely those audiences helped lift the project’s favorability score and viral potential in ways that paid off critically and commercially in the long run.
 
Success – after all – is a marathon as opposed to a sprint.
 
Monolith (2022) was produced by Black Cat White Rabbit Productions, The South Australian Film Corporation, and the Adelaide Film Festival.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Well Go USA Entertainment.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the flick’s sights-and-sounds to be exceptional from start-to-finish: director Vesely makes fabulous use of what’s basically a single-set location shoot, always finding small ways to keep the production visually distinct.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Well, there’s a brief making-of that feels more like a bloated commercial, but otherwise you’re left in the dark … perhaps in more ways than one.
 
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
 
If I’m being perfectly honest with myself and my readership, I don’t like stories that leave me either hanging or guessing … but, sadly, Monolith (2022) does both.  While it’s packaged and performed quite well, director Vesely and scribe Campbell leave audiences with a fade-to-black and an almost ‘you figure it out’ mentality that suggests perhaps they collectively raised more questions than they intended to answer or weren’t entirely certain themselves, so they cut-and-ran before the credits rolled.  Those seeking specificity are likely going to love the build-up but be underwhelmed with the finale, though I’m guessing there won’t be any follow-up.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Well Go USA Entertainment provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Monolith (2022) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

According to the latest published statistics on Google.com, a surprisingly low percentage of the population is affected by arachnophobia … or the fear of spiders.
 
Seriously?  No greater than seven percent?
 
Now, I expressed my genuine surprise because – in all honesty – yes, I consider myself among the seven percent afflicted.  While my fear is far from debilitating on any level, I can appreciate what those who do experience full-blown fright must endure when faced with the sight of any creepily crawling critter.  A move to Arizona several decades back introduced me to an even greater fear – that of scorpions – which I’ve read does fall under the same category of phobias; and, of course, I’ve had to face it with the grim determination like any Arizonan could, would, and should.  Spiders?  I’ve read that they have their time and place in the global kingdom, but, frankly, I could do without them.
 
So … it should go without saying that I approached a complimentary screening of a little something-something called Infested (2023) with more than modest trepidation.  I’ve seen spider-specific-themed Horror flicks before; and because I’ve had little trouble with them, I decided to give this one a go.  The advertising looked very good; and I do love a good fright.  While this one let me down just a bit (I’ll explain more below), it still earns high marks for being what I’ve often called an ‘old school chiller.’  It doesn’t seek to be anything greater than a momentary distraction from the trials and tribulations of life.  It doesn’t hint of any deeper meaning than to just give you a good case of the willies.  And there isn’t the promise of a sequel anywhere in sight.
 
I respect that level of efficiency … and this one pays off nicely.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re a 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:
“Residents of a rundown French apartment building battle against an army of deadly, rapidly reproducing spiders.”
 
Look.  It may not be all that manly of me to admit that, yes, like so many I’m frightened appropriately of bees, bugs, and whatnot.  Having been either stung or bitten far more times than I care to recall, I’ve learned that it isn’t so much emasculating as it is just damn prudent policy.  If it crawls and it has teeth or a stinger or a pincher or whatever, then it deserves to be killed.  That’s just good diplomacy in my book.
 
So, yes, I found it a bit hard to identify with Kaleb (played by Théo Christine), a young French entrepreneur who wants to springboard his fascination with insects into a professional career dealing in bugs.  (There is such a thing?  Good Lord!)  So when one of his illicit suppliers suddenly comes up with a ‘hot’ new species of spider brought in from what appears to be some God forsaken desert in the Middle East, Kaleb can’t help himself and purchases the single specimen outright.  Not a lot is known about the arachnid, but his dealer assures him that he should exercise extreme caution with keeping it indoors.
​
As Fate would have it, this particular breed of spider is somehow magically endowed with Darwinian-level powers: apparently, it reproduces at a rate required for it to physically match in size and scale whatever threat its environment poses.  Once it has been removed from the desert and placed in proximity to, say, human beings?  Well, you guessed it!  This arthropod ignores the bookish requirements of hundreds if not thousands of years of evolutionary development and, instead, morphs into the size of domestic dogs and cats literally overnight!  And speaking of dogs and cats?  Well, guess what it apparently has a hankerin’ for?
​

Given this massively improbably scientific development, I did find it pretty difficult to take Infested seriously only as a dramatic vehicle.  Essentially, it’s little more than a monster movie – one powered by its own innate ‘spider sense’ (to borrow a phrase) – and in that estimation only it works wonders.  Like any good carnival thrill ride, this one pits its likeable and young cast – all of them just trying to get by and make the proper choices in their respective lives despite the usual angst of the age group – against a horde of crawling predators that will stop at nothing … not even a can of Raid.  Once the original specimen gets loose, it goes into a hyper state of reproduction, overrunning the apartment complex entirely within a matter of hours.
 
Again … realism be damned … Infested works despite its narrative and/or scientific weaknesses.  When it wants to chill you to the bone, it spins a web that’ll keep you trapped in its dire embrace for the duration of your stay … just don’t expect for all of it to make perfect sense in the big climax.
 
Written (in part) and directed for the screen by Sébastien Vanicek, Infested manages to deliver thrills and spills, though it does take a respectable amount of time to set up this world and its young cast.  Structurally, it flows similar to 2007’s fabulous Zombie/Horror flick REC in which residents of a tenement-style structure find themselves quarantined within once the killer virus has begun infecting one resident after another.  In the same fashion, Kaleb, his sister, and their friends endure a analogous nightmare scenario when French authorities suspect some kind of biological outbreak might be in progress; and they seal off the building, leaving the survivors to fend entirely for themselves.  Though the project follows the formula a bit too closely if not predictably, there’s still a cool efficiency to its forward progress that makes for a grim procedural.
 
Note to those afraid of spiders: yes, they’re in here.  In spades.  However, as the film spools on and they grow larger and larger (for theatrical purposes, mostly), it does get marginally easier to watch them do what they do.  But … for those who suffer from the highest levels of arachnophobia?  You might wanna stick with something simpler.
 
Infested (2023) was produced by My Box Productions, Tandem, Netflix, and a few other participants.  (For a full accounting, please check out IMDB.com.)  According to quick Google.com search, the film is available presently for streaming via Amazon.com’s Prime Video and Shudder.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be pretty exceptional from start-to-finish.  There are several sequences that take place in extremely low lighting that could’ve been improved, but methinks they were going for that look in order to preserve the horrific atmosphere.  Lastly, as I viewed this production via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
 
Recommended.
 
I did go into Infested (2023) thinking I would have greater difficulty with the overall experience.  I’m not ashamed to admit to being concerned about spiders and snakes, and I would caution those who have serious serious serious issues with them to perhaps seek entertainment solace elsewhere.  But if you want to experience an effective and efficient thrill ride, then this is about as good as anything I’ve had the good fortune to stumble across as of late.  It is French language – meaning it’s subtitled – so perhaps reading some of the dialogue also softened the Horror tropes to the point wherein they weren’t as visually powerful as they could’ve been otherwise.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Shudder provided me with complimentary streaming access to Infested (2023) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

Occasionally, I find it necessary to remind readers about my philosophy on reviewing films here at SciFiHistory.Net.
 
First off, every release that I take on – large or small – is because I choose to do it.  Yes, as some in the growing readership have pointed out, I gravitate toward older and/or smaller releases; and this is mostly because I’ve learned over the years that I simply have more fun tackling something fewer internet voices are even considering.  When everyone is sounding off about the latest blockbuster that’s playing on a zillion screens, it ain’t always easy being heard; and it’s even easier to find yourself lost in the pursuit of clicks.  Instead, I talk about film.  I talk about stories.  I talk about talent.  Those things matter to me; and if smaller and older films aren’t getting the attention I feel they deserve, then I seek to fill that void.
 
Second, every release that I take on deserves to have something said about it.  I don’t review anything simply for the sake of reviewing it; and I work with distributors, producers, and other outlets that genuinely appreciate both the modest promotion their projects receive as well as what I might have to say about it.  This isn’t so much about sharing feedback as it is about feeling part of a process wherein a story and its talent get an authentic examination – a sum total of its parts – to confirm whether or not it speaks to me.  I go to great lengths with some flicks to offer up my own perspective, and I hope the storytellers and their cast and crews can benefit from the reaction.
 
So … yes, this means that (cough cough) even the features of days gone by that have been understandably lampooned by the likes of Mystery Science Theater 3000 might say something about the world we live in or even offer up a cautionary lesson for those who still watch for those kinds of things.  1960’s Tormented is one such property – yes, it was given the MST3K treatment (brilliantly so) in 1992, and that episode is even included as an ‘extra’ on this release from Film Masters – and I can’t help but think some of what might’ve made the film compelling got brushed over in the attempt to lambast it.  My setting the record straight isn’t meant in any way to undo any obvious blemishes; rather, it’s to demonstrate even a curious second rate production still has something of merit to offer.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
​

From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A man lets a former flame fall to her death rather than let her interfere with his new relationship, but her ghost returns to disrupt his impending nuptials.”

​Sporadically, I find myself in debates with like-minded folks about the nature of film criticism.
 
The explosion of the Information Superhighway has brought an incredible number of voices to pop culture, and a great number of them like to sound off on film.  While I’m all in support of having more views as opposed to less, one significant drawback I experience when scrolling through any number of blogs and vlogs is that I find far too many of them saying the same thing … and, generally speaking, it would seem as if fandom loves to ‘pile on’ when they see a failure.  Now, if everyone is saying the same thing, then (sadly) how much authentic criticism is taking place?  Don’t get me wrong: a bad film is a bad film is a bad film … but my point has often been that even bad films might have something worth paying particular attention to … and such is the case with legendary filmmaker Bert I. Gordon’s Tormented.
 
Given the fact that this little yarn came to life right at the time that franchise like The Twilight Zone were first coming to prominence, I can’t help but point out how Tormented feels like it could’ve been a bloated episode in that universe.  At 74 minutes, it arguably would’ve been too long for much of the Rod Serling venue; but both aesthetically and textually Tormented draws from the same well of inspiration, that being that our universe might be bigger, broader, and more complex that we could ever imagine at first blush.  While the presentation of such ideas might be flawed here and there, it still feels very much like a product of that age.
 
Tom Stewart (played by Richard Carlson) is a jazz pianist who finds himself torn between two lovers: while Vi Mason (the voluptuous Juli Reding) embodies the kinda/sorta freewheeling and dangerous lifestyle he’s enjoyed as a part of the music industry, Meg (Lugene Sanders) is the kind of wholesome and well-bred debutante that just might give him the chance at stability and recognition he hasn’t found in his career.  But like a good jazz tune might twist and morph into something other than intended, Vi isn’t willing to go quietly into the night; when she threatens to spoil Tom’s engagement by revealing his illicit affairs, the man realizes that he’s trapped with no way out.  Before she can make good on the threats, she’s pledged to him that night on the lighthouse deck, Vi accidentally plunges to her death on the rocks below … even though Tom had the chance to save her and refused.
​

Anyone who’s been around even a small handful of ghost stories knows full well that the pianist’s rejection of doing the right thing is going to result in a curse; and before you know it Tom is being followed around and haunted by the scheming shrew.  Not even death is going to stand in the way of this woman standing by her man; and her continued encroachment from the spectral realm begins to fray the man’s already frazzled nerves.  (It ain’t easy being a jazz pianist, it would seem.)  Before all is said and done, Vi will ultimately land the man of her dreams, even if that means she’ll have to coax him to join her in the Afterlife against his wishes in the final reel.
 
Yes: love conquers all … whether we like it or not!
 
IMDB.com indicates that director Gordon and George Worthing Yates collaborated on the script; and – in doing so – they actually got a great deal of mileage out of their shared ideas.  With some clever yet dated effects work, we’re given indications that Tom is most definitely not alone.  Footprints appear alongside his when he’s strolling along the beach with his wealthy fiancé in tow; before Meg can see them, the tide washes them conveniently away.  Vi appears as a transparent shadow in several sequences, either calling out or threatening Tom from the ‘other side.’  Where the film does falter in significant ways is Gordon finds himself obsessing over ‘body horror,’ having just Vi’s hand show up in one spot or giving life to just her disembodied head in another.  As special effects trickery, the techniques work … they’re just a bit half-baked in terms of what it textually represents at this point in time.
 
Still, Gordon was a bit of a master at getting the most out at minimum expense; and – whether you can stifle a laugh or not – Tormented works on several layers.
 
The auteur clearly put some time, effort, and thought (not a lot of money, though) into the construct, clearly giving audiences a look at Tom’s kinda/sorta tortured existence both personally and professionally.  We’re given a glance behind the curtain – a life with Vi may’ve been sexually fulfilling whereas his potential future with Meg appears to be little more than a piano-playing fixture at some gala affair where she’s the center of attention – and it ain’t the tomorrow it’s all cracked up to be.  By the second half, even extortion has entered in from a seedy afterlife, leaving our ‘hero’ with few alternatives and even a dire predicament suggesting he must murder Meg’s younger sister Sandy (Susan Gordon) if he’s ever to have a moment’s peace any longer.
​

This is what I mean when I suggest that film criticism should strive to say something about a film similarly to a film having something to say about its presented circumstances.  Admitting that a particular feature is proficient doesn’t even remotely suggest that it’s good (much less great or even inferior) on any conceivable level; rather, it underscores what about the project makes it worth a view.  While admittedly Tormented is poorer or maybe silly in ways easily counted on one hand, I could still suggest it’s textbook filmmaking for a time when effects work was only beginning, leaving their obvious limitations easy to identify.  But … none of that diminishes the ideas that went into the whole affair; and – on that front – I had a good time with its ghostly pursuit.  Ultimately, Tom got what he deserved, being wrapped in the arms of a beautiful woman, both of them lying on a picturesque beach … even if they were both dead.
 
Tormented (1960) was produced by Cheviot Productions.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Film Masters.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to what’s been advertised as a new 4K restoration from 35mm archival elements to be very respectable; I’m betting any and all shortcomings are owed to issues with the source material, and – yes – there are a few bits and pieces underwhelming.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features, then buckle up!  As well as this being an all-new restoration, you have waiting in store for your discovery:

• The aforementioned MST3K version of Tormented;
• A good but all-too-brief interview with director Gordon;
• A stellar documentary featuring C. Courtney Joyner examining the director’s career;
• A visual essay by the Flying Maciste Brothers discussing the film;
• 1961 footage from an unaired TV pilot that sought to use Tormented as an episode;
• Audio commentary from Gary Rhodes and Larry Blamire;
• Theatrical trailers; and
• A collector’s booklet featuring essays from Tom Weaver and John Wooley.

 
Recommended.
 
The films of Bert I. Gordon can be a mixed bag, but Tormented (1960) achieves exactly what it set out to do.  It delivers an old-fashioned ghost story – one with a bit of deception and intrigue – and it even flirts with visual trickery in ways that served the story just good enough.  Thematically, it’s very similar to what Rod Serling was doing – albeit on less of a budget – or perhaps even what M. Night Shyamalan is still doing together – albeit on a vastly greater budget.  Yes, you might laugh at it a bit here and there; and, yes, MST3K lampooned this one for good measure.  Yet, it still works … and that says something.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at MVD Visual and Film Masters provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Tormented (1960) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

Good morning, gentle readers, and welcome to 'On This Day In Science Fiction, Fantasy, And Horror History' for Monday, April 22, 2024!

How's your Monday shaping up, eh?

I know, I know, I know ... apologies, my friends, for not having a post on the MainPage for a few days.  I got sidetracked with the Business of Life, and I was away from the blog for a short while.  Don't fret, you knuckleheads, it was nothing dire.  I just -- in all honesty -- had an awful lot going on over the last few days, most of it social stuff like theater outings and whatnot, so I didn't exactly have the level of free time I normally do.  It happens to us all from time-to-time, and, yeppers, that's all this was.  Just busy.  Very busy.  But I'm back at it, and it should be a very exciting week as I have a few flicks I'll be reviewing and maybe even a small(ish) announcement or two.  I'm presently hammering out some new prospects with a new distributor, so I might be receiving even a few more releases to watch.  So -- as I'm always warning -- keep your eyes peeled.  Busy guy.  Busy guy.

But ... on to more important matters?  How was your weekend?  Here's hoping it brought you all the merriment and joy that mine did.  Saturdays and Sundays can be great opportunities to refresh oneself against the corrosion of the work week, and I sincerely hope your 'days off' were all that they could be and more.  I know I cherish mine, and I can only imagine each of you cherish yours equally.
​

Now, you young skulls aren't nearly old enough to appreciate what I'm about to write, but I'll encourage you to pay attention all the same.  This may not be wisdom I'm trying to impart, yet it could be considered a message worth hearing all the same.

Those of us who are a bit 'long in the tooth' and grew up in the 1980's?  Well, there are a collection of faces that kinda/sorta take us back to those seminal years.  We may not see these actors and actresses all that frequently today -- for whatever reason -- but a welcome expression such as that belonging to the forever lovely Catherine Mary Stewart still has the power to pick us up and transport back to the 1980's when she was a Screen Queen (not a Scream Queen, but you get the idea).  The talented actress was a part of a good number of flicks that were required viewing from those bygone days, making a good many men and (cough cough) women of a certain persuasion perhaps fall in love with her wholesome goodness.  Yes, I'm pretty sure that 1984's The Last Starfighter was my first time discovering her grace and beauty on the silver screen; and that positive experience means that she'll be forever etched into my brain, signifying a kinder and gentler era for yours truly.

Even though the lady still acts to this day, I think that she'll forever be trapped in the 80's, most of that sentiment owed to her popularity in Starfighter and the Cult/SciFi flick Night Of The Comet (not a fan, personally, but it was great to see she could deliver such an effective one-two punch in genre).  So join me in wishing her a 'Happy Birthday' on this, her special day!

Sometimes, I find it incredible how one actor or actress kinda/sorta appears to come out of nowhere and rise to the level of being considered an authentic genre phenomenon ... and -- all the while -- the guy or the gal were right there making a solid mark all along the way ... almost as if no one ever saw them before this one moment in time.

​That's the way I think about Jeffrey Morgan Dean.

This is an actor with an incredible roster of projects -- at each opportunity the guy delivered solid if not incredible work -- and yet it seems as if it took so very long for his 'overnight success' to finally find him.  For what it's worth, I thought his early stuff was just as great as the work he's finding today; and I'm at a loss to explain why audiences didn't perhaps embrace him sooner -- much sooner -- as it makes me wonder what roles he missed out on because he kinda/sorta simmered just under everyone's attention for so long.

But ... hey ... stints in such properties as Supernatural, Extant, Magic City, and The Walking Dead finally served the talent up on a silver platter for those paying attention; and isn't it grand when that happens?  He definitely put in his time and earned his place in genre circles, and here's hoping the man has a long life filled with exactly the kind of work we love to see leading men occupy.  He's a force to watch, even if it's at the business end of a barb-wire laced baseball bat.

Happy birthday, Mr. Morgan!

My, my, my ...

You kids with your long-form storytelling definitely owe a debt to David Lynch and Mark Frost that you'll never ever repay as the 1990's were phenomenal when a little something-something called Twin Peaks became 'all the rage.'  This was before the internet -- I know very few of you can appreciate those dark ages -- and that meant that if you wanted to actually do a deep dive on what goodness the show delivered you actually had to go to the watercooler at work and congregate around REAL PEOPLE.  And, yes, that we did congregate, and, yes, that we did talk about Twin Peaks, what it showed us, and what it all may've meant.  Let's just say that we got it wrong more often than we got it right, but that's the genius that worked beneath the surface of the long-form tale.  Heck, Lynch and his willing co-conspirators even took a few decades off before starting the story up with an all-new angle on Showtime (pay cable); while it may not have been as genius or as fresh as it was back in the 1990's, it still made for quality entertainment.

And there's no talking about Twin Peaks without breeching the subject of what really happened to the late Laura Palmer -- the franchise's central victim -- and there's no breeching the subject of Laura Palmer without naming the actress who brought her to life (and death): the fabulous Sheryl Lee.

The actress has continued to work since those fateful days, but -- in my humble estimation -- nothing has truly come close to the narrative punch that Peaks peaked in her career.  While it's always great to see her in no matter the genre, I think she'll always be linked with that role ... and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.
​

Just like that, we've once again reached that point in our daily program wherein I remind you that there's more -- and much more -- over on the Daily Citation Page for April 22nd ... and it's at this point wherein I challenge each and every one of you to head on over there, check it out, and perform your own deep dive.  April 22nd hosts a number of big birthdays, but I'll leave those others to you for your own discovery and edification as I'm sure there's something there for each of you.  All one need do is click ...
​

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

​-- EZ

Readers, I’ve mentioned before that I have a fondness for noirish Thrillers, many of which lean toward some hard-boiled storytelling sensibilities.
 
Without getting too much into the weeds, I grew up in a small Midwestern town that was surprisingly revered for its violence.  Much of this stemmed from the fact that it kinda/sorta had some bad blood controlling local businesses in the early half of the 20th century, and a great deal of gambling and general lawlessness (or a lack of respect for the legal system) stayed in practice throughout the 1950’s, 1960’s, and 1970’s.  This little town in the middle of nowhere even had a reputation amongst the neighboring bergs for being a place you didn’t want to get caught in after dark; and, yes, such repute did make for some interesting high school experiences when I’d travel to other cities for competition.  Suffice it to say, we didn’t get ‘messed with’ all that much, even though we really weren’t all that much to look at.
 
Though I’ve never had it verified, there was even a bit of a local legend involving our townies having a bit of a scuffle with some of Al Capone’s men back in the 1920’s.  Even though I’ve no way of knowing whether or not it was entirely accurate, this commonly accepted ‘myth’ was what initially propelled my interest in learning more about the most notorious name associated to crime and the great experiment that was American Prohibition.  I rarely, if ever, miss out on the latest non-fiction book releases exploring the life of the gangster; and, yes, my interest has even evolved over the years to consider films and television series wherein ‘Snorky’ may have played into the affairs.
 
So … I’ve seen The Scarface Mob (1959) before … long before, in fact.  I couldn’t say where or when – it most likely was a home video release, though it could’ve been a pay-cable airing or Turner Classic Movies – but I still jumped at the chance to inspect Arrow Films’ upcoming DVD re-release of this great story.  While my personal knowledge of Capone and Prohibition makes me a bit weary with a few elements of the production, I still find it an entertaining account of Eliot Ness and his Untouchables squad as they fought the good fight against a criminal overlord and managed to ‘get out alive’ when so few who went up against the mob did.
 
(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 minor hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Story of how a group of incorruptible federal lawmen helped put 1920s’ Chicago gangster Al Capone in prison.”
 
Sometimes, it’s important to understand where a project came from in order to underscore why it deserves to be appreciated.
​

For those unaware, The Scarface Mob is the pilot telefilm for TV’s reasonably long-running and popular crime procedural The Untouchables (1959-1963) starring Robert Stack as the seminal lawman hunting down those who would traffic in beer and booze in Chicago during American Prohibition (1920-1933).  As I understand it, Mob was initially a two-part production when it was first screened for television as part of the Westinghouse Desilu Playhouse line-up for April 20th and April 27th, 1959.  Based on its popularity and the quality of its assembly, Desilu saw these parts edited together and released theatrically outside the United States; and then, a bit later, even awarded the film a domestic screening in 1962.  While this practice has grown increasingly common as of late, such a development was exceptionally rare back in those days, and I’d suggest that this stresses how well both the original telefilm and the subsequent series were embraced by a viewing public.  (In fact, Wikipedia.org cites that another two-parter of The Untouchables – “The Big Train” – also received similar theatrical treatment.)
 
So … it kinda/sorta begs the question about how a program about crimefighting Eliot Ness grew popular in the first place?
 
It wasn’t as if the reviews for Mob were incendiary (in a good way), though there were some who praised its no-nonsense approach to storytelling and its depiction of the federal government versus the criminal underworld.  Furthermore, the television landscape wasn’t exactly empty of crime dramas at the time as studios were finding them a bit easier to produce than were Westerns which had ruled the roost for quite some time.  The answer to such a question probably has several educated answers – the gist of which I’ll ignore – but I’ve always thought it tied in with the public’s romanticism with, simply, ‘The Mafia,’ an entity’s existence that had finally been breached and exposed by the U.S. government’s Kefauver Commission in the early 1950’s.
 
In 1957, author Oscar Fraley released his autobiographical memoir with Ness’s cooperation; and The Untouchables was born as its own phenomenon.  It was soon optioned by Desilu for production; and, thus, the series came to pass.
 
As a founding installment, Mob works well on many levels, though it’s also safe to advise that it’s a slow-moving set-up.  Ness (as played by Robert Stack) is a bit stiff in places, some of which is likely owed to what he and director Phil Karlson thought would be sufficient characterization for a tried-and-true lawman who cannot be ‘touched’ by bribes and corruption.  Once he recruits a squad of like-minded professionals to, essentially, have his back, the script from Paul Monash truly becomes something special: audiences are given an almost behind-the-scenes look at how these learned officers of the law both acted and behaved above reproach, and there’s a modest sense of camaraderie developed as a consequence of their close quarters.  Of course, it’s also necessary to point out that it isn’t until the famed big guy himself – Al Capone (Neville Brand) – appears that The Untouchables truly rises to its occasion.  (Capone was incarcerated when the show began, but he shows up once released from prison.)  Then it becomes clear just how diametrically opposed these two figures were, and undoubtedly audiences were hungry for the moments that they’d share the screen together.
​

Well … the unfortunate truth there is that Capone and Ness rarely if ever (depending upon the reading of history) saw one another.  I won’t go into those matters mostly because they really don’t have anything to do with Mob directly; and, yet, I will encourage those who want to know authentic details on Ness and Capone’s respective lives to continue their education by consulting biographies.  What you see in movies and television is generally only based on history and not drawn directly from it; and the truth is that the gangster likely couldn’t have picked out the treasury agent in a police line-up if his life depended on it.
 
Surprisingly, Mob doesn’t quite celebrate Capone’s notoriety as much as later projects would.  Sure, he’s a menace here, and Brand’s portrayal – though a bit culturally dated – might be seen as far too stereotypical to be accurate.  (I’ve also read that Italian-Americans weren’t exactly thrilled with the show and how it depicted their people, but I’ll leave that, too, to historians.)  What matters to me is the undercurrent vibrating through the 100+ minute run-time; and – on that front – the production succeeds.  In fact, the second half of Mob is surprisingly violent for the day and time when it aired; and this commitment to realism is likely what kept the resulting series a favorite amongst audiences of the era.
 
The Scarface Mob (1959) was produced by Desilu Productions.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to this high-definition presentation to be exceptional from start-to-finish: there’s a bit of rather obvious grain in several of the ‘nighttime sequences’ that is a bit unfortunate, but it isn’t as distracting as I’ve seen elsewhere.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Alas, I’m only provided a copy of the disc – so I can’t speak to the particulars of many print extras that are listed on the item’s press materials – but there are a few video essays that, frankly, don’t much cover this production so much as they give biographical and/or historical details about Prohibition, Ness, and Capone.  Honestly, I wanted more about this project … not a history lesson.  Disappointing.
 
Recommended.
 
If you’re familiar with TV’s The Untouchables (1959-1963) even casually, then you owe it to yourself to see how it all began with this pilot telefilm, The Scarface Mob (1959).  Having seen only a handful of episodes of the program, I think I’ll admit that I appreciated the telefilm a bit more because it is a self-contained story that deals directly with the Ness/Capone kinda/sorta showdown factually, ignoring the usual Hollywood sentiment to jazz it up with either unnecessary or inaccurate dramatics.  Yes, certain creative liberties are taken, but this is still a bare bones procedural that effectively uses history as a backdrop to tell a solid story.  It’s definitely worth a view.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of The Scarface Mob (1959) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ