A quick search on Google.com indicates that 1896’s Le Manoir du Diable (aka The Haunted Castle) from director Georges Méliès is credited with being the very first motion picture made that is, authentically, considered Horror.  At nothing more than three minutes in length, the short film was first screened for audiences in France on December 24, 1896, thus giving birth – cinematically, at least – to one of the screen’s most enduring and profitable genres ever.
 
Depending upon one’s perspective, it wasn’t until perhaps the 1920’s and 1930’s that Horror found its first ‘faces.’  It was with the release of such groundbreaking entries as 1931’s Dracula that Bela Lugosi became one to watch.  That same year, Universal Pictures delivered Frankenstein – based on the novel by Mary Shelley – to theaters; and – with it – the great Boris Karloff made his ascent into our collective consciousness.  Watching the two of them work their screen magic, audiences were horrified – by design, mind you – with the machinations of evil creeping their way into one project after another.  Horror’s popularity would dip to a small degree in the late 30’s and well into the 1940’s – what with our world being at war, Horrors were real enough on the front pages of newspapers everywhere – but it would make a resurgence in big ways in the near future.
 
This second wave of Horror stars were debatably a little less about creature comforts and a bit grander on the theatrical scale.  Names like Christopher Lee – a man who could deliver screen menace with even a casual glance – or Peter Cushing – perhaps better known for taking the fight to more villains than he ever played one – became commonplace.  And … Vincent Price?  Though he may’ve taken the long road to find out just how well he played characters who could chew scenery like no other, not even age diminished the man’s ability to imbue each and every role he took with his signature vocals and an almost deadpan, understated approach to antics serious or comic.  As I said, Horror came back … and it came back bigger than life with these highly regarded talents.
 
Hollywood knows a good thing when it sees it, so producers naturally paired up these respective legends across several handfuls of projects … and, yet, it was only twice that saw all three Thespians collaborating under the same cinematic roof.  The first was 1970’s Scream And Scream Again, a criminal procedural with a Horror backdrop that came to distribution by way of Amicus Productions.  While I’ve not seen it, I’ve heard that it’s only true distinction is the fact that it brings these men together in a single story.  The second, however, was probably a bit more to a Horror audiences’ liking: 1983’s House Of The Long Shadows cast the Horror royalty as ghosts descended from the same family all haunting an old estate being used by a vacationing American writer to pen his next novel in silence.  Producers also enlisted the revered John Carradine into the cast (as just one more ghost, if only one were needed), and it seemed that nothing could go wrong.
 
Well …
​

I’ve read some reportage that suggests there were (ahem) “issues” between the stars and Cannon Films (the production company).  Much of the breakdown was apparently owed to the fact that the story and advertising didn’t quite synch with one another.  For those unaware, Shadows was, in fact, meant to be a parody of the kinds of films these legendary actors had made long before; but advertisements allegedly played up the Horror aspects so much so that viewers and critics alike struggled to find anything to appreciate once seeing the finished product.  There are some suggestions in articles online that attempts were made to salvage the project by correcting the advertising, but, alas, Shadows ultimately disappeared at the box office, never igniting the interest it perhaps could have under different circumstances.
 
Having now seen it myself for the first time, I can see why.
 
(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:
“An American author finds a dilapidated Welsh manor perfect for writing until the residents host a bizarre family reunion.”
 
When is a Horror not really a Horror?
 
Simply, this would be when the Horror was actually conceived, made, and intended to be a Comedy, as was the case with House Of The Long Shadows.  Directed by Pete Walker from a story by Michael Armstrong, Earl Derr Biggers, and George M. Cohan, the flick unspools very much like it was loosely lampooning the haunted house pictures of an early era, perhaps even the kinds of projects previously made famous by its cadre of Horror Royalty … John Carradine, Vincent Price, Christopher Lee, and Peter Cushing.  There isn’t a hand with enough fingers big enough to count the number of scary entries this cavalry saved from obscurity by their efforts alone; and it’s pretty obvious that their presence alone was intended to give this project the fortitude required to, perchance, make box office history.
 
And yet their storied careers had little to no effect on Shadows’ lack of success, probably owed more to a lackluster and poorly executed idea than it did any clout they singly or collectively mustered.
​

In short, Shadows is a haunted house story revolving around a bet between popular American bestselling author Kenneth Magee (played by Desi Arnaz Jr.) and his publisher Sam Allyson (Richard Todd).  Essentially, Magee – full of the traditional ‘piss and vinegar’ fueling so many successful writers – insists he can craft another publishing hit within 24 hours; and Allyson – with dollar signs in his eyes – bets the young man $20,000 that it cannot be done.  The publisher even offers up a property he owns – a presumably deserted Welsh manor – for the author’s use; and, thus, the game is afoot.
 
However, once he arrives at Baldpate Manor the young man is surprised to find it anything but empty.  The caretakers are presently preparing the expansive estate for a dinner of the Grisbane family – its original owners – who are gathering one last time on the eve of a rather sordid past anniversary.  Before the night is over, the Grisbanes are hoping to put a lingering curse well behind them, but all Magee wants to do is finish his novel and maybe even squeeze in a bit of loving with Allyson’s professional assistant Mary (Julie Peasgood) who is also along for the festivities.  It doesn’t take long before the curse is in effect once more, and the bodies start piling up.
 
While the premise sounds like a decent foundation around which to spin any yarn, Shadows central failure is that none of the screen talent seems to be taking any of it very seriously.  Oh, the learned talent has definitely forgotten more about chewing scenery than most in the acting business ever learn, and all involved hit their marks as required for their respective scenes; but there’s never any true sense of danger, mostly because it kinda/sorta starts to less like dire straits and more like loose comedy.  At heart, Shadows evolves more into a weird caper – if you think things are not as they appear, then you’ve won half the battle – and its resolution even appears a bit rushed given the lengths to which the shenanigans stretch.
 
At the risk of spoiling it, Shadows is a ruse, both on its American lead as well as the viewing audience.  Events happen even when the author isn’t present; and – if this was all meant to confuse him over a bet – we’re not supposed to question why we’re being shown something that he’s not.  It’s convenience for the sake of convenience, and not everything in here ‘adds up.’  By the last reel, we learn that a great deal of the script was, in fact, little more than artifice … all made up to apparently ‘make a point’ to Magee about what is and isn’t possible or some such nonsense.  (You’ll have to trust me when I say it just isn’t very clear.)  Now, the lengths to which Allyson and his paid staff would have gone in order to make this whole charade possible is M-A-S-S-I-V-E, so massive that I suspect it couldn’t have been pulled off … except for in the movies.  Sadly, movies don’t require that everything make perfect sense; so if you can accept that the wool was not so much pulled over Magee’s eyes as it was yours, then you might forgive this one’s obvious deception.
​

To the film’s credit, Shadows ratcheted up a bit of extra interest from screenings on the film festival circuit, and why wouldn’t it?  A Horror film showcasing the talents of several true originals is exactly the kind of thing festival audiences were made for.  This isn’t to diminish the achievement; it’s merely to point out that some spectators are a bit more ‘informed’ than are others, making the pairing of this production to those venues a match made in Heaven … or is that Hell?!?!
 
(cue maniacal and devilish laughter)
 
House Of The Long Shadows (1983) was produced by London-Cannon Films.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Kino Lorber.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to the presentation to be exceptional from start-to-finish.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  The disc boasts not one but two audio commentaries along with a feature-length documentary (a bit tedious in a few spots) that revisits the production with surviving members of the cast and crew.  There’s also an interview with the director and (the usual) theatrical trailer to enjoy.
 
Recommended, but … only for diehard fans of Classic Horror cinema as newbies and/or contemporaries might find very little to enjoy in this somber paced “chiller” (their words, not mine).
 
Readers, there is the germ of a very, very, very good idea at the heart of House Of The Long Shadows (1983); and – given the fact that it’s so reasonably well-made and hosts what should be regarded as a cast of ‘Horror royalty’ – I suspect a great deal of viewers will forgive director Walker and his cast and crew out of respect for its epic attempt.  My problem – one I suffer frequently, it would seem – is that Shadows is the kind of the story that the more one thinks about it the less it makes sense; so I’ll dispense with the goodwill and, instead, just agree that, yes, it sure was grand seeing some of cinema’s biggest names in genre brought together for one last hurrah.  They deserved better … as did we.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of House Of The Long Shadows (1983) 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

(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 frustrated thriller writer wants accurate crimes for his next book, so he hypnotizes his assistant to make him commit the required crimes.”
 
Why, it was just the other day – when I was penning a piece about what typically draws my attention to older films as opposed to new ones – that I made an observation about narrative.  It’s been my experience that older – not necessarily “classic” – productions went to great lengths with less material.  They didn’t have as many bells and whistles with which to ‘shock and awe’ an audience – certainly not as much as we have today – and, thus, a talented cast and crew put in the extra effort to give their project greater substance.  This doesn’t mean that it all made perfect sense; but, rather, it does imply that all involved tried to produce some end results worth greater than the price of admission.
 
As I pointed out, however, this doesn’t mean that those end results were designed to stand the test of time; and to a degree this is what holds 1959’s Horrors Of The Black Museum back from being anything greater than the sum of its parts.  For its day, it probably worked just fine, cultivating enough interest with both its whodunnit perspective and its light theatrical trickery to generate some gasps and sighs amongst the audience.  But by today’s standards?  Well, this one doesn’t quite go the distance.
 
A city with as rich a bloody history with murders as London won’t settle on accepting bloodshed so routine, and the latest spate of killings has been growing more gruesome with each passing body.  Superintendent Graham (played by Geoffrey Keen) in on-the-case for Scotland Yard, but evidence and motive seems to be more elusive than usual.  That and the fact that local columnist Edmond Bancroft (Michael Gough) keeps sensationalizing the bloodshed for the delight of the city’s readership, and the police have grown weary with the writer’s constant chides about how he alone could solve the matter with his vastly superior intellect.  Still, before all is said and done, Bancroft’s motivations might be called into question as it appears he might be closer to the crimes being committed than he has ever been!
 
Well, if you haven’t guessed at who the guilty culprit might be, then I won’t spoil it for you – let’s just say, this one really isn’t all that difficult to predict – as Horrors Of The Black Museum pretty much descends rather quickly into little more than a melodramatic potboiler given a bit of distinction by the macabre manners in which our villain dispatches the various victims.  From what I’ve read (as well as from observations heard on the disc’s commentary tracks), all of these killings were inspired by actual crimes committed by items collected and stored in Scotland Yard’s Black Museum, an assortment of murder weapons perhaps as nefarious as the nasty folks who used them for nefarious ends.  Indeed, the script – by Herman Cohen and Aben Kandel – portrays Bancroft as maintaining his own private compilation of knives, axes, and whatnot – he’s enchanted with slaughter, you know, as it’s his day job – and by all appearances it’s this fascination that ultimately puts him kinda/sorta in the slaying business.
 
As novel an inspiration as that may’ve been in the late 1950’s when director Arthur Crabtree brought this story to the screen, I’d still argue it’s a bit … well … intellectually lazy.

If one takes that idea as a foundation with nothing further (no inciting incident, no psychological development, etc.), then it becomes easy to suggest fans of just about anything capable of rather easily suppressing years of upbringing or a basic moral compunction for human decency in favor of murdering one’s fellow man without remorse.  Say you like stories involving serial killers; why, filmmakers would have you believe that you’re merely a stone’s throw away from amassing your own pile of cadavers!  Say you’re interested in fire; why, don’t you know that rather than becoming a firefighter to study it more you’re far more inclined to practice arson at the drop of a hat!  While I had no problem accepting that Bancroft both had and maintained some dark hobbies, I think the film really owed it to audiences to have a better catalyst that would’ve greater explained why the man turned from ‘expert’ to ‘practitioner’ so easily.
​
For those who think that perhaps I’ve spoiled too much, let me assure you that there is a bit more to the story than what meets the eye in my above observations.  Thankfully, Black Museum earns points by adding one more layer involving Bancroft’s young protégé Rick (Graham Curnow) in an interesting subplot that fleshes out just how far our learned expert has taken his interest in homicide and how one might achieve certain ends while still keeping one’s hands clean.  Still, it’s a bit more magical than it is purely scientific, and I’m not convinced it won any more fans to the picture back then than it will in today’s cynical audiences.
 
What Black Museum is missing – again, in my estimation – is that there’s no authentic foil to Bancroft’s villainousness.
 
Early scenes in the picture suggest that perhaps such an intellectual counterpart – a Sherlock Holmes to Bancroft’s rather obvious Moriarity – was intended: sequences featuring Graham and the writer debating facts and figures emerging from the crime streak play nicely as two opponents trying to match one another’s grounding of facts as well as their command of police detection.  They spar wonderfully when given the chance, and I suggest that a stronger script could’ve emerged wherein this dynamic could’ve served as the centerpiece for the whole affair.  In some ways, it may’ve been like what audiences were inevitably treated to with David Fincher’s vastly darker Seven (1995) where investigators Somerset (Morgan Freeman) and Mills (Brad Pitt) squared off mentally against John Doe (Kevin Spacey).  Given that Black Museum was filmed in the late 1950’s, it wouldn’t have had nearly the level of gore that Seven so effectively employed, but that adversarial tete e tete between the forces of good and bad would’ve given Gough and Keen’s screen time added dimension.
 
As it stands, Black Museum isn’t bad.  It’s simply flat.  You get what you expect – and then some – though there’s still enough creepiness that will likely please those who discover its charms from a bygone era.
 
Horrors Of The Black Museum (1959) was produced by Carmel Productions and Merton Park Studios.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at MVD Visual.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to this new 4K restoration to be exceptionally good; all of it both looks and sounds vibrant, probably better than it ever has before.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  The disc includes a few interviews along with two commentaries (one archival and one new), making this a worthy addition to any cineaste’s collection if interested.
 
Alas … only mildly recommended.
 
As a fan of older features, I’m honestly surprised I didn’t like Horrors Of The Black Museum (1959) a bit better than I did.  Production details are good, and performances are interesting, but I still found it missing a stronger core in the character of Edmond Bancroft.  When the villain isn’t fleshed out enough to make him as compelling as are his dark deeds, then I struggle to understand what motivated him – beyond personal success – to take the path less traveled.  It got really close to being something truly special but slipped before hitting the mark.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at MVD Visual provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Horrors Of The Black Museum (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

According to the Los Angeles Film School, Horror – as a genre of filmmaking – consists of ten unique sub-types: Demonic, Paranormal, Monster, Slasher, Zombie, Gore, Witchcraft, Vampire, Psychological, and Comedic.
 
Now … who am I – your lowly, lowly web-based critic – to argue with an institution as august as the Los Angeles Film School?  While I may not quite agree with precisely how they’ve splintered up Horror into these sub-headings, I do agree that – for the most part – there’s a good degree of crossover from one group to another, meaning that rarely if ever do, say, Demonic or Paranormal flicks ignore incorporating a good deal of Gore and/or Psychological elements in crafting their particular yarns.  Plus, Comedy entries rarely stand entirely on their own, relying on any number of related influences with which to exploit such subject matter for the desired level of insanity.  So even if they and I may disagree on giving Vampire projects their own classification separate from other Monsters (same thing could be said of Zombies, too), I’m still willing to agree that these filters likely establish a solid foundation around which any number of fans, critics, and/or academics can debate the good, the bad, and the ugly of enterprises that exist almost entirely on ‘going bump in the night.’
 
Where I do tend to segregate myself off from the wider population of cineastes is that I see Slasher films generally as the laziest and least interesting stories to deliver.  Yes, it goes without saying that some of made much better than others are; and still I’ve seen far too many of them rather quickly start to resemble far more conventional features with the added buckets of blood meant to distract viewers from noticing that there really isn’t anything special to their characters, places, and events.  When rather tame killing is all a film offers, then what’s the big deal?  Any picture can do that; so if you aren’t willing to pony up anything further – signature kills, stylistic cinematography, unanticipated plot twists, etc. – then what’s to keep the audience from going elsewhere?  If you can’t, at least, make it a special occasion, then what more can you offer me for the investment?
 
Therein lies my central issue with Cutting Class (1989), a recent home video release that was part of the MVD Rewind Collection, those releases from the bygone era that might’ve been either overlooked or created a stir all of their own back in those days.  While the setting of a high school killing ground definitely taps into one of Horror’s most popular Slasher tropes, there’s just very little else to this rather mundane attempt with the exception that it looks to be one of Hollywood heavyweight Brad Pitt’s first starring roles.  That fact alone might interest either the ladies or (cough cough) the gentlemen of a certain persuasion; but when that’s all you’ve got then this might end up being a 90-minute slog for the rest of us.
 
(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:
“High school student Paula Carson’s affections are being sought after by two of her classmates: Dwight, the ‘bad guy,’ and Brian, a disturbed young man who has just been released from a mental hospital where he was committed following the suspicious death of his father.  Soon after being released, more murders start happening.  Is Brian back to his old tricks, or is Dwight just trying to eliminate the competition?”
 
Regular readers to SciFiHistory.Net understand I’m typically no fan of the formulaic Slasher picture.  My entertainment diet is meaty enough that I take one in occasionally – mostly because, hey, it’s kinda/sorta my job to sound-off on any number of new releases that come my way via distributors – but these projects are still what I’d call ‘hard sells.’  Frankly, if they offer nothing new by way of their look, feel, and cast, then I find them rather tedious … and Cutting Class – 1989’s weak attempt to curiously blend Comedy with Slasherdom – is exactly what I mean.  It’s too ‘plain Jane’ for it’s own good, and it delivers little by way of inspiration with its relatively low body count and its much-too-safe performances.
 
Fresh-faced Paula Carson (played by Jill Schoelen) finds herself home alone for the week when dear ol’ dad and local District Attorney William Carson III (Martin Mull) heads off into the great outdoors for his regular hunting excursion.  Despite assuring her father that there will be no boys at the house, Paula can’t quite resist the temptation to monopolize on some modest cuddle time with her latest boytoy Dwight Ingalls (Brad Pitt), a paramour she’s been able to keep on a leash with the promise of sex only once he gets his grades up.  But – lo and behold – their old friend Brian Woods (Donovan Leitch) is back in school, not all that long after being ‘incarcerated’ in a mental institution for what authorities believed was a descent into madness that resulted in the boy’s father’s death.  Well, wouldn’t you know it that Brian’s return to school brings with it the disappearance and/or demise of classmates along with a teacher or two, so it’s only natural that suspicions fall smack on the shoulders of the former patient.
 
Now … those tidbits alone demonstrate that the script from Steve Slavkin wasn’t really breaking new ground.  As a writer, Slavkin was really just getting started (IMDB.com indicates that this was only his second professional gig); and his career didn’t exactly break ceilings or burn barns after this affair.  He’d follow this up with work in the realms of Extreme Ghostbusters and two different Power Rangers series, so we’re not talking about narrative trailblazing by any stretch of the imagination.  As of 2004, it would appear that he’s all but disappeared from the entertainment business, but let’s agree to never-say-never when it comes to any talent making a career comeback.
 
Compounding that particular level of malaise, director Rospo Pallenberg was apparently also new to the career choice.  Again, IMDB.com indicates that he may’ve earned some uncredited directing experience with the poorly received Exorcist II: The Heretic (1977), but he’s also mentioned as adapting the story of Excalibur (1981) for John Boorman.  Given his naiveté behind-the-camera, however, I can’t help but wonder how much doom was saddled around this project’s ankles right off the bat.  Clearly, far too much of Cutting Class meanders around its premise – resembling much the visual arc of Mull’s character who is shot in the early scenes but spends the bulk of the film simply wandering (albeit severely) wounded back in the direction of civilization.  That’s definitely a metaphor for my time spent with this Class.
 
Sadly, it didn’t have to be this way.
​

Schoelen may not have been well established at the time (the 1980’s had a great number of like-minded talents that delivered an equally great number of sleeper hits), but her time as Class’s scream queen indicates gifts strong enough to keep audiences on the edge of their seats.  Screen legend Roddy McDowall also turns in a curiously creepy performance as the sexually repressed high school principal with a panty fetish, and his work hints that perhaps director Pallenberg wants this entire adventure to be a bit zanier than it feels.  Pitt and Leitch make for respectable teen adversaries; the two of them were given ample opportunity in here to suggest the true identity of the central slasher might not be who you think it is at first blush.  But, sadly, none of it ever really builds the necessary steam to make this one more than a little engine that sputtered in a few characteristic places.
 
And that truly is Class’s reason for failing to make the grade: it sputters more than it makes sense.
 
Slavkin’s script never smartly builds a strong enough case for viewers to truly accept there could be more to Leitch’s damaged goods.  Is he patently evil – as is hinted at visually and textually – or is that just creative misdirection?  When it’s this clear early on who the baddie is, the audiences isn’t much encouraged to either consider or suspect something else could be working behind-the-scenes in a way that would authenticate any plot twist.  The degree of casualness invoked in every moment cheapens even what few potboiler moments the ensemble musters, so much so that I suspect few will stay in their seats to see the last reel except by using that fast-forward button to get there much more quickly.
 
Cutting Class (1989) was produced by April Productions and Gower Street Pictures.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at MVD Visual.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the sights-and-sounds to this 4K restoration (from the 35mm original camera negative) to be quite good from start-to-finish.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Well, there are a handful of interviews along with a few extras for your investment, but honestly I didn’t find them anything particularly special.  I guess it’s a solid collection for fans with lowered expectations, and that’s all I really have to say about that.
 
Alas … only mildly recommended.
 
As I’ve tried to be clear, I’m not the biggest fan of Slasher films to begin with but Cutting Class (1989) never quite makes a good cut.  Its narrative vacillates lazily between Horror and Comedy so frequently that I had trouble figuring out if I were supposed to be aghast or just tickled; and that’s never a good place to find oneself critically.  Fans of Pitt might find this one interesting – his performance is good, though I think a stronger script could’ve even given him more to sink his teeth into at this age – but it’s an otherwise easily forgettable affair … the kind of project that, ultimately, caused this sub-genre to lose the prominence it once had in the world of home video.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at MVD Visual provided me with a complimentary 4K Blu-ray copy of Cutting Class (as part of their 4K LaserVision Collection) 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 Monday, April 15th, 2024 ... the start of another whole new week ... and here's your 'On This Day In Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror History' for this great day!

Well, well, well ... how was everyone's weekend?

Mine was a little wacky.  I was on the tail end of another sinus bug or something.  Just kinda/sorta knocked me for a loop.  Affects my energy level, mostly, but I'm well on-the-mend as of this morning.  A bit scratchy in the throat, and it's drippy, too ... but well over the hump and on the road to wellness once more.

So it was a reasonably low-key weekend, as a result.  We did manage to squeeze in a viewing of 1977's The Spy Who Loved Me at the local bargain theater.  They're in the midst of a James Bond series, showing a few of the older ones.  I think next up in Goldeneye -- which we'll likely also take in -- but I believe that's the last one.  They're also alternating them with (ugh) the Austin Powers flicks for some reason.  I only cared for the first one of those, so I'll not likely be seeing any of them on the silver screen again.  Just not my stuff.

We also had the good fortune of discovering an all-new craft-style store in our area.  It's one of those big spaces that's set-up for individual vendors to display their various wares; and -- wowza -- it's pretty amazing.  So many folks these days have so many great talents that it's honestly just fabulous to kinda/sorta walk and look at what they can do.  Granted -- and I don't mean this to sound sexist at all, folks -- a good deal of what's up there on display is far more for the ladies (or self-identifying ladies); and yet every now and then some merchant realizes that the men in their lives also need a bit of pampering.  I did come across some interesting Star Wars items -- clearly not authorized, as these are c-r-a-f-t-s, like I said -- but they look just incredible, all the same.
​

Both are -- obviously -- very, very cool artwork inspired by the classic space saga.  They're carved on slate.  The R2D2 is essentially a coaster, but the other one is reasonably larger, and it's definitely meant as an item more to be displayed (like artwork).  Again, these were damn lovely; and who knows?  Maybe I'll pick one or both up at some point now that the store is open for business.  It is fairly rare to stumbled across stuff like this made for genre fans such as myself, so I do love to call a bit of attention to it when I see it as it just tickles my fancy.
​
But let's get down to business, shall we?  Let's take a look at a few of the highlights involving genre history today, and maybe this will inspire each of us to engage in our own little craftwork, eh?
​

I've always been a big fan of Science Fiction and Fantasy shows that spend time exploring what life on our world could be like following an invasion or conflict of some sort, and on this day back in 2013 an all-new one tried to give that whole idea a different spin.  Defiance lasted for three seasons; and -- if I'm being honest -- I only stuck with it through its first season as it just didn't do much for me.

I loved setting it in kinda/sorta middle America -- a place that doesn't get a whole lot of coverage in genre works -- and it definitely had a good cast ... but like so many shows I think this one settled a bit too soon into plotlines a tad wee too domestic to really challenge folks to hang along with it.  I've heard from some that it developed a bit more in seasons two and three, and that's great to hear.  But time is precious, and if you don't hook me pretty much right out of the gate then I'm inclined to begin shifting my attentions elsewhere.  Though I thought it had solid promise (as I said, I did give it a whole season), it just didn't look like it was going to to anything fresh ... so I tuned out.

Still, kudos for it being around.  Fans might wanna look this one up and invest some time in it as a streaming/binging choice.  I have found that the episodic nature of some programs don't serve it well -- we have to wait seven days between helpings, and sometimes that delay works against the momentum -- and who knows?  Maybe being able to digest multiple hours in a single sitting might do wonders for it.

Back in the days when you could seriously count on genre programming to have some quality guest stars, Michael Ansara was definitely one to watch.

Like so many of his generation, the guy seemed like a work-horse: he'd show up for whatever project he booked, and he'd pretty much chew scenery the way a true talent could no matter how much screen time he was given.  Some discerning viewers might dismiss such an approach as cheap and/or superficial, but there's something to the skills of morphing into an authoritative bad-ass 'on the fly' (as so many had to do years before), and Ansara was one of the small screen's great villains, especially in Science Fiction and Fantasy.

Thankfully, he was around long enough to dabble in multiple incarnations of Star Trek, and his was a face I noticed in other properties whenever he turned in.  His is the kind of work audiences used to rely on, but -- alas -- Hollywood's need to push 'beta males' to the forefront means we might not see his likes again ... or, at least, any time soon.

Though he's no longer with us, Ansara was born on this day in 1922.

Folks as always, there's more ... and with a mind-blowing 82 different genre trivia citations for this day alone I suspect that there's something there for everyone.  This is the point wherein I enourage all of you to head on over and begin your own deep dive into the realms of the Fantastic because adventure awaits ...
​

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

-- EZ

​The immeasurable beauty of the Apocalypse is that, functionally, it can take a myriad of forms.
 
As an example, audiences have been treated to any number of ways in which our planet – with or without mankind’s existence – has turned a bitter corner and sped down the path toward a ghastly end.  We’ve been shown the dangers of nuclear annihilation.  We’ve been castrated by hundreds upon hundreds of alien invasions.  Christ has returned – or a suitable Devilish facsimile – and civilization itself has been thrown into chaos.  There’s also been plagues, celestial collisions, viral contagions, zombie uprisings, environmental catastrophes, global warming, robot revolutions, rips in the space/time continuum, monsters unleashed, and just about any other variation on a theme that can be imagined, spun up, and presented as cautionary tales to the masses-at-large.
 
Yes, I think it’s safe to suggest that mankind – or, at least, those of us who partake in entertainment – has a collective fascination with our impending doom.
 
In fact, End Times’ scenarios have become so commonplace in fiction – both in literature and screens big and small – that storytellers have been able to access a kind of narrative shorthand: consumers don’t require as much set-up as perhaps they have in the past, and they’re both equipped and willing to step into these various upheavals with even a bare bones structure.  Twenty or thirty years ago, a little something-something like Arcadian (2024) might’ve been shrugged off by viewers as they abandoned it for vehicles with greater specificity.  This isn’t to say that the picture as directed by Benjamin Brewer and starring Hollywood heavyweight Nicolas Cage is perfect because that’s pretty far from the truth; still, the tale moves effectively on its own economy, never sacrificing its rural setting in favor of the glitz, décor, and spectacle one used to require of mankind’s downfall.
 
As Apocalypses go, this one is downright picturesque … albeit in a dreary sort of way.
 
(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 father and his twin teenage sons fight to survive in a remote farmhouse at the end of the end of the world.”
 
When it comes to creature features, I’ll admit that I’m a huge, huge, huge fan.
 
Where I struggle with them – especially ones made in the modern era, let’s say about anything post-2000 – is that the scripts tend to lack a good deal of specificity.
 

Rarely are we definitely let in on the secret of just where these things come from.  I suspect that a great deal of contemporary writers have decided that such details like ‘planet of origin’ or ‘cause of evolution’ or ‘means of mutation’ are ultimately unimportant to the yarn they’ve seeking to weave; and – as a consequence – little to no time gets expended on those particulars.  TV’s entertaining zombie saga – The Walking Dead – never even let audiences know precisely where this zombie-virus thing came from – I only recall there being a suggestion that it had always been here in an early installment – and if ratings are any indication, then perhaps most folks were perfectly fine with such a glaring omission.  Well, this won’t be the first time I’ve been called ‘old-fashioned,’ but it is what it is.
 
Feeling somewhat similar to A Quiet Place (2018) and even a bit like A Quiet Place: Part 2 (2020), Arcadian completely ignores the bright lights and the big cities of our world in favor of a remote farm somewhere I believe in the Irish or English countryside.  (Again, I’m not entirely certain it was spelled out, so I’m going with what little info Mike Nilon’s script saw fit to put onscreen.)  Suffice it to say, there’s not a lot to look at except for Paul (played by Nicolas Cage) and his two sons, Thomas (Maxwell Jenkins) and Joseph (Jaeden Martell), but the story somehow manages to soldier on quite nicely without a cast of thousands.  Perhaps Hillary Clinton had it wrong, and a village is not nearly as necessary as Liberals insist!
 
After a flashback-style set-up that shows the young father escaping a growing urban Hellscape punctuated by chaos and destruction, the film jumps fifteen years later.  The former infants are grown into teenagers, and they’re behaving much the way boys do, fueled by hormones, hissy fits, and hobbies.  While Thomas has become somewhat enamored with Charlotte (Sadie Soverall) – the daughter of a neighboring farming community that has also survived against the odds – Joseph whiles away his spare time fascinated with science and strategy.  Under Paul’s watchful eyes, the two have grown into two bickering teenage archetypes (the ‘brainy’ one versus the ‘brawny’ one); and it’s pretty clear that a little bit of both will be needed collaboratively before this tale is done and finished.
 
What distinguishes Arcadian from like-minded pictures is the fact that it really does spend more time in the domesticity of surviving in the age of collapse.  Time is spent on some of the more mundane tasks required to make life possible – maintaining the house and its defenses, scavenging for supplies, etc. – so it isn’t until the second half when a few bad choices cause a somewhat stable existence to go awry.  While our species is kinda/sorta depicted as being ‘stuck in our ways,’ our theatrical adversary here has been gifted with a hive mind that apparently evolves; otherwise, I’m left wondering why it’s taken these monsters so long (fifteen years) to figure out a way around something as simple as a lock and a door.
 
This shorthand does make Arcadian an occasionally difficult story to follow.  Neither director Brewer nor screenwriter Nolin felt it was necessary to tell us exactly how and why civilization fell nor what role specifically these rather gruesome critters may’ve played in it.  Yes, there are hints and suggestions dropped here and there; but when and if those tasked with filling in all of the blanks necessary for this to make perfect sense opt not to, then some in the audience (myself included) can be easily distracted with trying to come up with answers all of our own.  Thankfully, they instead focus in on distracting us with action instead of thought; and – on that level alone – the film makes for a better-than-average thrill ride.
 
However, said shorthand also extended to the project’s visual styling, and I’m just not a fan of cinematography so dark and underlit.  Call me a stickler if you will, but I like to see clearly what’s going on – especially if I’m being expected to suspend my disbelief so prevalently – and a great deal of these night-time series are hard to discern.  While I can understand any filmmaker’s desire to not overexpose the seminal creature – thus preserving its mystery – I don’t think viewers are properly served if darkness and shadows become the norm.  Sadly, there’s a bit too much of that in here for my tastes.
​

Also … about not showing us the monster in a light wherein we can fully grasp just what it is and how it operates?
 
Arcadian has a great long sequence wherein young Joseph is acting on his desire to capture one of them so that he can study it, to understand it, to identify what it is and just how it ticks.  (Again, that’s how audiences are wired, so why shouldn’t someone fulfill that task?)  While the scene works rather effectively despite some curious computer-generated imagery, it also presents a critter with some curious skills and attributes that we’ve yet to see before (in this story) and, sadly, never come up again in its 90-minutes.  Well … why?  And why not?  If you’re going to give a monster the ability to kinda/sorta elongate itself into such a shape, then why do you ignore the same capacity on multiple occasions wherein it obviously could’ve been put to even better use?
 
The answer is likely because it would’ve thrown a monkey wrench into the scene as written, and that’s a shame … because I – and monsters – expect and deserve better.
 
Arcadian (2024) was produced by Aperture Media Partners, Highland Film Group, Redline Entertainment, and Saturn Films.  According to IMDB.com, the film is presently screening theatrically in such places as Canada, Ecuador, the United Kingdom, and the United States.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I’ll admit to not being entirely thrilled with all of the picture’s cinematography: there’s a great deal of this photographed in little-to-no-light (a significant portion of the events occur overnight), and several sequences are very difficult to discern (likely by design).  Still, it works more often than it fails.  Lastly, as I’m viewing this one during its present theatrical run, there were no special features under consideration.
 
Recommended.
 
Because I’m a fan of monster movies, I was able to forgive some of the faults here and there within Arcadian (2024) in appreciation of being entertained.  Despite some weaknesses here and there, the project remains a reasonably efficient thriller set well after civilization’s ruin with no return-to-prominence anywhere in sight.  Who knew raising a family during the Apocalypse could be as grim as it is gratifying, and thank goodness that Nicolas Cage was there to give the whole shebang the gravitas it, ultimately, needed.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at IFC Films provided me with complimentary streaming access to Arcadian (2024) 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 afternoon, gentle readers, and welcome to 'On This Day In Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror History' for April 11, 2024!

Let the merriment begin!

I know, I know, I know: "where were you yesterday?!"  Well, I was busy, folks, so apologies that I didn't get a post up.  I should've -- I had time -- but I got sidetracked with a few things here and there, time got away from me, and there you have it.  I really have no excuse other than I just didn't get around to it.  Refunds will be issued ... assuming you ever paid.

Hahahahahaha.

But I'm here now, and I'm ready and raring to go.  Sometimes, a day away from the blog can accomplish some incredible things.  I did a slew of lesser research on some obscure titles, and I spent a bit of time fashioning the review for 1957's The Tin Star that I posted on the MainPage only moments ago.  Check it out, if you're so inclined.  Also, I had a thing in the evening that required a bit of attention, so we are where we are.  As they say: "suck it."

As for today's history?
​

You know, one of the reasons I ultimately began SciFiHistory.Net is that I grew tired of hearing from young(ish) folks that they didn't know what I was talking about.

Culturally, we tend to lose our history.  We tend to forget things that we're either not encouraged to know or we make a serious attempt to acknowledge existed in some way, shape, or form.  In my years of blathering incessantly about Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror on the World Wide Web or message boards or the like, I came across scads and scads and scads of people who "claimed" to be "hardcore" fans for "years and years" and yet they'd never heard of Buck Rogers, Flash Gordon, or John Carter.  So, yeah, I started to seriously question what being a "hardcore" fan truly meant, and I figured this was the best way I could (cough cough) help them be better at it.

So, yeah, if that offends you, so be it.  But ... maybe don't call yourself a hardcore fan if you don't know the history?

That's what's really shameful about us as a people, that somehow we let properties like Buck Rogers go dormant for so many years, never quite calling attention to it or giving it the attention it might be owed for paving the way for so, so, so many other franchises.  While the original comic strip began in January, 1929, it wasn't until a decade later that Hollywood got around to bringing it to life on the silver screen ... and, lo and behold, they cast the guy who has basically popularized Flash Gordon in serial format to inhabit the seminal hero.

Happy birthday to that incarnation ... one which pretty much lay in sleep mode for four decades before it came back on television as Buck Rogers In The 25th Century.  Looking at the calendar, I think it's well past time for another update!

Riddle me this: when is an Alien movie not an Alien movie?

Well, that would be when it looks a little something-something like Prometheus, a production that first premiered on this day back in 2012.

Now, I'm not interested in courting controversy here, but let me make my point about the above as simply as I can.  Director Ridley Scott along with the entire production team -- at one point -- didn't act as if they knew what they were making.  During this installment's assembly, I can recall reading stories about how it was another chapter in the Alien saga or how it wasn't or how it was intended to be a side-journey in the wider Alien franchise ... and, dare I say, I think they were as confused as perhaps audiences were with whether or not they should embrace the final cut.  Yes, it winded up clearly incorporating many elements of that seminal space saga, but it never quite felt like another chapter in the expanding universe.  In fact, I've agreed with many who suggest that Prometheus is a very, very, very good Science Fiction flick, but it's a downright awful Alien film, never quite emerging with enough of that intellectual DNA to make it a worthwhile addition.

As always, you all are entitled to think what you will of it.  I'm just giving you my two cents.

In either case, enjoy it if you do.  I enjoyed parts of it, less so when they tried to make it all Alien.
​

Well, well, well ...

Once again, we've reached that point in the Daily Blog that I remind you that your journey needn't end here.  There's more -- a great deal more -- and at 77 different genre trivia citations I think each of you can find a cause for celebrating something within the realms of the Fantasic.  Here's the link to get you started on that journey:
​

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

​-- EZ

Yes, yes, and yes: for the uninformed, I do occasionally cover Westerns on SciFiHistory.Net.
 
And – yes, yes, and yes – I’m often asked why.  (Heck, even the wifey was surprised to hear about it.)
 
The answer isn’t all that simple, but I’ll try to be as clear as I can.
 
First, Westerns are revered by many to be a uniquely American film genre; and I, as an American tend to think very highly of them.  For the most part, they are structured very similar to episodes of Gene Roddenberry’s Star Trek: we’re introduced to the characters, and then these people are put through the paces via the classic morality play.  The good and the evil are downright unmistakable, so this focus allows for storytellers to, essentially, stick to the story; and such concentrated aim allows for them to really develop the players.  Granted, many of the men, women, and children might wind up being little more than stock archetypes, but every now and then they’re given a bit of room to play and something special happens.
 
Second, there’s a vast number of Science Fiction and Fantasy films out there for consumption that are nothing more than Westerns disguised with spaceships, ray guns, and speeders.  Have you ever heard that George Lucas’ Star Wars is the quintessential Western that’s merely set in outer space?  Did it escape your attention that even Gene Roddenberry and a whole plethora of television executives described Star Trek as the ‘wagon train to the stars?’  In fact, I’d argue that these two styles deserve to be looked at as opposite sides of the same coin given how much they share structurally with one another beyond just the fine print.  They feel like one in the same at times, and that’s reassuring for audiences.
 
Lastly, there’s this little nugget of pure honesty: Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror titles are in such a limited supply – so far as the distribution outlets that I work with – that I’d not have as much to do if I didn’t relax my parameters a bit.  Widening the spectrum of pictures I can ‘wax on wax off’ about allows me to draw upon like-minded features and, thus, share my insights with you – the faithful readership – in ways that delineate just how much SciFi and Fantasy and Horror both influences and is influenced by more conventional stories.  It’s a small world, after all … so why not underscore how closely worker droids resemble a gunslinger’s pack mule in days from long ago?  I think it’s a thing of beauty, and I can only hope you agree.
 
Today’s evidence: 1957’s The Tin Star, a pure oater directed by Anthony Mann and springing from the fertile imagination of Dudley Nichols, Barney Slater, and Joel Kane.  Its star-studded line-up includes such luminaries as Henry Fonda, Anthony Perkins, Betsy Palmer, Neville Brand, and Lee Van Cleef.  While – as a flick – it might not share an awful lot in common as I outlined above, the feature is still about as serviceable a Western as one might expect from the late 1950’s: there’s a good guy and a bad one who are destined to collide, but I’d argue that the picture plays it a bit too safe – a bit too domestic – in its middle third, so much so that I experienced a hard time staying focused on the trials of the old West’s hard knock life.
​

(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 cynical former sheriff turned bounty hunter helps a young, recently appointed acting sheriff with his advice, his experience, and his gun.”
 
Structurally, The Tin Star plays out very much like a three-act play.
 
In the first act, the players and situations are fully introduced.  Audiences are treated to a fairly clear definition of characters, along with strong suggestions as to how they may or may not be intersecting with one another in this small, one-horse town.  Traditionally, the second half is where a lot of the action and/or intrigue is supposed to happen, meaning that the writers begin truly fleshing out how these people are coming to grips with their circumstances and one another.  All of those conflicts, then, are meant to build a head of steam leading to the big resolution – the final showdown – of the third act.  At this point, all of the business is meant to be fully concluded, and viewers might even get a little ‘light’ coda – a casual wrap-up, often with a bit of humor or elation – as a sort-of ‘thanks for taking the ride’ with us.
 
Where Star really fails to resonate – at least, so far as I’m concerned – is with its second act.  Instead of truly layering on the kind of substance that raises the stakes, this trio of screenwriters spend time allowing sheriff-turned-bounty-hunter Morgan Hickman (played by Henry Fonda) to establish his domestic bona fides as a man.  He kinda/sorta spiritually adopts young Kip Mayfield (Michel Ray) as the son he lost years ago in a tragedy.  He even kinda/sorta explores the prospect of an all-new relationship with Kip’s mother Nona (Betsy Palmer, who would go on to play the mother of Jason Voorhees in the Friday The 13th movie franchise) when she offers him a chance to stay after the town hotel brushes the man off with a cold shoulder.  And he sets his sights on loosely tutoring new sheriff Ben Owens (Anthony Perkins) into the job, one he left decades ago in pursuit of a small fortune needed to save his marriage.  (Hint: it didn’t, and that’s why he’s become a bit of a loner.)
​

Because so much time and effort get expended on this stuff, Star began feeling at one point like it wasn’t even a Western: it was a conventional human drama merely packaging in the time, place, and setting of the traditional oater, leaving it a bit of a disappointment.  This isn’t to say that there were no nice moments amongst the cast: Fonda was a pretty big star by this point, and Perkins was really only starting to build his resume as a screen presence.  Given the amount of time these two share in the pursuit of a story (or our wait for one to begin), they and we are rewarded with some good exchanges.  (The same could be said for Fonda’s time with his surrogate family.)  But far too much of this second act plays out much too safely: with no real conflict, nothing moves forward, and the mood stagnates to the point wherein I wondered what catalyst could possibly set the stage for the last third.
 
Now …
 
Westerns live and die on their respective last acts (i.e. the big showdown).  Yes, it’s true that – to a large degree – such predictability might negatively impact the evolving shock and spectacle; but good storytellers know a thing or two about threading character motivations into the tapestry that makes for a compelling finale.  Typically, guns will be blazing.  Lives will be lost.  Boys will be made into men, and some men will be reduced to – well – compost.  That, my friends, is the ‘Circle of Life’ to the great American West; and The Tin Star, thankfully, fulfills that requirement with nothing short of a spectacular third act … one that might be among the very best the genre ever assembled.
 
I’m not going to bother readers with the particulars.  As I think I’ve been clear, Star functions as a kinda/sorta ‘passing the torch’ style story, much in the same way that the aged Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi trained young Luke Skywalker in the ways of the Force so that he, too, could become a Jedi like his father had been long before.  Substitute Fonda in for Alec Guinness and Perkins in for Mark Hamill, and you essentially have the basic foundation around which so very much of what the script presents.  (The good news here is that Fonda doesn’t die, and I’m sorry if I spoiled it for you.)  I do believe viewers going into this experience with full knowledge that ‘this is what you get’ might avoid some of the dissatisfaction I had with the middle passage.
 
What I was particularly thrilled about was how Mann’s film symbolically bookends itself with little more than a dead body.
 
In the somewhat somber opening moments, the bounty hunter rides into the nameless small town with a lifeless corpse thrown over the back of his spare horse.  As he makes his way down the dusty streets, the residents slowly come out of their houses, the stores, the saloon, etc. all to watch as this mysterious man rides slowly past.  Eventually, Hickman arrives at the sheriff’s office; and he politely explains to Owens that he’s only here to claim the fee for the escaped convict he brought in ‘dead or alive.’  It doesn’t take long before the town elders descend upon the newly appointed officer of the law, each and every one of them pontificating about what he should do about this or that, how they won’t allow for Owens to provide any aid and comfort to Hickman, and how they don’t even want ‘his type’ in their little municipality.  Clearly, they see this young professional as someone they can boss around or manipulate with their respective power and stature; and Perkins plays the lawman with an appreciable degree of nebbishness.

Well, the third act finally finds its necessary pacing when the resident town bully Bart Bogardus – the very man ‘gunning’ for Owens’ job after his temporary appointment to sheriff expires – finds himself in a literal stand-off with the young officer.  After Owens and Hickman manage to bring two guilty parties in alive so that they can be given their right to a trial, Bogardus responds by working the populace up into a frenzy, with the mob showing up as a posse prepared to lynch the murderers.  Owens – now wiser from the lessons provided by his kindly benefactor – meets the bully in the center square, refusing to stand down and showing all involved that he’s ‘manned up’ for what’s about to come.  Let’s just say the town elders are about to see another dead body – rather brilliantly paralleling the film’s opening segments – and now they’ve got their own lessons to learn.
 
The Tin Star (1957) was produced by Perlberg-Seaton 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 … wow!  The sights and sounds to this high-definition presentation are spectacular.  Extremely good.  If you’re looking for special features?  The disc boasts a commentary by film historian Toby Roan, and – at best – I think it’s safe to say it’s probably average in my book: the man spends a great deal of time with facts and figures of all involved, never quite dissecting the film and the story in the manner I prefer.  There are also an assortment of behind-the-scenes and featurettes which make for a good education if you’re looking for such fare.  I can’t speak to the efficacy of printed materials, essays, or other inserts as I was only provided a working copy of the disc … so “buyer beware” on those items.
 
Recommended.
 
The Tin Star (1957) plays it far too safe in its middle section to rank the flick anywhere near my favorite Westerns; but it opens and closes with arguably some of the very best stuff that makes oaters a genre worth some consideration.  Fonda and Perkins are paired up fabulously here; and their time together alone makes this one a treasure for audiences of a certain era.  Pacing in the second act – along with some average plot development – really slows down the effectiveness, but director Mann pulls out the narrative stops in the showdown that pits justice against mob rule … with justice prevailing as it should.  It’s a fabulous morality play, and it should be appreciated on that level alone.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary copy of The Tin Star (1957) 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 Tuesday, April 9, 2024!

How's your Tuesday shaping up, eh?

Well, mine is good, thank you very much for asking.  Got a decent night's sleep.  Hit the club this morning for a little workout.  Now, I'm puttering here around the house, posted a review from my screening time yesterday, and just starting to do my own glance into what makes this day tick in genre history.  I'm seeing some very, very, very interesting highlights, and I'll be giving a few of them some extra time in the limelight below.

You good and ready?

Then, let's blast-off, shall we?
​

Why, it's a shame that a little 'something-something' like Science Fiction Theatre -- which premiered on this day all the way back in 1955 -- is pretty much one of those forgotten shows of yesteryear so far as today's audiences are concerned.  From what I've read about it, SFT pretty much paved the way for all of the great anthology series that would follow in its wake -- like Rod Serling's The Twilight Zone, The Outer Limits, or even Alfred Hitchcock's foray into television -- but this one just kinda/sorta never gets any love.  Weird.

Frankly, I've only seen an episode or two of it -- I believe it's up on YouTube.com or, at least, I'm pretty certain it was -- and it's fairly solid.  Granted, it clearly didn't have any big budget -- not even for its day -- and the writing left a bit to the imagination here and there; but it's still the kind of thing that Science Fiction and Fantasy fans gravitate toward.  Who knows?  Maybe I'll make my own commitment to watching and reviewing a few of its episodes in the months ahead just to give it some time to shine for readers of this space.  It certainly couldn't hurt, and I'm always willing to invest my time in older stuff as opposed to some of the newer schlock coming my way.

I've scanned some of the episode summaries as well as the list of guest stars, directors, etc.; and -- as I've said -- I'm at a loss to understand why this one still escapes so many.  Of course, it likely has to do with being old and trafficking in some relatively outdated ideas, but stranger things have attracted folks for less.  Lasting a few seasons should account for more 'round here, and I'll still encourage folks to seek out and explore it at their leisure.

Now ... don't take this the wrong way, readers, but the Saturday morning television landscape was a lot different when I was an urchin than it is today.  And I do mean ... A LOT DIFFERENT.

In the Realms of the Fantastic -- for example -- me and those I grew up with had an assortment of shows -- animated and live action -- that sprang from the imaginations of Sid and Marty Krofft, imagineers of a (cough cough) very unique sort.  Though I've never established this as perfectly true, I have read that the two got their professional start as puppeteers (not hard to imagine); and then their approach to storytelling dramatically evolved to the point wherein the embraced all kinds of oddball characters ... and it's damned hard to forget some of these bigger-than-life critters who brought some of the more bizarre stories to life in the bygone era.

In fairness, these shows aren't exactly revered these days.  Though they aesthetically might have a lot in common with some of what serves as children's programming today, I'd still argue that they were still a bit ... erm ... macabre?  Oh, don't get me wrong: the hearts of these characters were always in the right place, but that doesn't excuse how freakish a few of them looked on any number of shows.  Names like H.R. Pufnstuf, Sigmund And The Sea Monsters, and Land Of The Lost were still legendary on my school playground; and I'm forever thankful I found them on the TV dial when I did.

Though he's no longer with us, Marty Krofft was born on this day in 1937.
​

1953's Invaders From Mars is one of those flicks that is honestly revered by directors of a certain generation of filmmaking.  I've seen it -- reviewed it just last year as part of the flick's 70th anniversary, in fact -- and all I can say is that I don't agree with them.

Now, hang on a minute, haters: yes, everyone is allowed to love what they love -- that's one of my basic tenets here at SciFiHistory.Net.  But to me, Invaders is the kind of film that really only speaks to those who grew up in that time and place; its narrative just doesn't translate as strongly to those of us who discovered it later in life.  As a consequence, I'd argue that many who search it out for a screening now might, at best, find it a bit quaint but can literally see the seams (even on the costumes above, for Pete's sake!) of what's a bit of only mildly subversive schlock.  Yes, it's worth a viewing ... but probably only one at that.

While I've seen it paired up with several other films from the 1950's that I hold in vastly higher esteem, it's still a solid effort.  My issues with it is that -- unlike so many other genre classics from the era -- it's just so middling is so many ways.  Never mind what it tried to do and maybe missed the mark a bit; accept it as an average experience made better solely by being a serviceable Fantasy and then move along once you're finished.

I know, I know ... "you're in the minority!"  I always am, my friends.  I always am.
​

Naturally, my friends, there's more to love ... and at an astonishing 72 different genre trivia citations spread across the magical realms of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror your deep dive is assured to bear a ridiculous amount of fruit.  So don't delay.  Head on over to today's citation page and boldly go ...
​

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

​-- EZ

Longtime readers of SciFiHistory.Net should know by now that I’m no huge fan of silent movies.
 
Now – for the record – this isn’t to say that I don’t have a few I strongly support.  Frankly, I haven’t seen all that many; and – to complicate matters – there really aren’t all that many genre-specific titles made in that era.  While I understand that, culturally, silent flicks do have their time and place in the vast pantheon of cinema, I just haven’t invested as much time in their study and impact as others have, so I tend to ‘take a back seat’ to many of these releases unless I’ve either heard of them, have had them recommended to me, or I’ve done some reading prior to their appearance in the marketplace and am willing to give it a go.  Again, I give the highest preference to genre releases – Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror – so I’ve come to accept that not many of those features hit the shelves as often as do Dramas and Comedies.
 
Still, I was excited when I was offered the chance to watch and review 1927’s The Cat And The Canary.  For the uninformed, it’s a Horror/Comedy that has been regarded as one of the biggest and earliest examples of German Expressionism kinda/sorta melding with the aesthetics of what was being attempted here in the United States.  I’d also read that such use of light, shadows, set construction, and exaggerated performances were a heavy, heavy influence on the more popular installments of the Universal Pictures Monsters Universe that wouldn’t see screens for a few years yet; and these facts strongly suggested that this would be time well spent for this genre critic.
 
Having just finished it and sat down to pen my thoughts, I can say that it’s a surprisingly light affair, more comedic in tone than I had perhaps expected.  Definitely, it’s easy to see how its general look and pacing might have helped paved the way for what was to come (especially at Universal Pictures); and still I could make the argument that – at 108 minutes – it could use a trim here and there without losing any impact of its overall tone and its performances.  What works best in all of it is the chosen locale – a big, dark, spooky castle-of-a-home with some heavily outfitted living spaces, ghostly features, and secret passages that escape detection until they’re needed most.
 
What works least?
 
Well, that would be its notable bit of camp …
 
(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:
“Relatives of an eccentric millionaire gather in his spooky mansion on the 20th anniversary of his death for the reading of his will.”
​

Where I tend to disagree most with those who do what I do – i.e. watch and review productions – usually involves comedy.
 
The shortest, simplest explanation I can offer is that what each of us finds truly funny differs so widely that I tend to get lost in the shuffle to find something worth laughing about.  Those comedies that I embrace tend to lie more in farce and/or parody, though I have been known to ‘bust a gut’ in theaters if there’s some smart, unexpected bit so well written or well-conceived that I didn’t see it coming.  Having seen so many, many, many films, I usually do see jokes coming – it’ll always be my Achilles’ Heel as a critic – and, as a consequence, the effect is mildly lost on me.
 
And – as long as I’m confessing here – I’ve never (ever) been a fan of the obvious camp sensibilities that drove so much of the humor of the Silent Era of filmmaking.  Goofy grimaces and over-emphasized pratfalls just never tickled my funny bone – no, not even as a little guy – and I find myself rolling my eyes more often than anything else when such merriment gets underway.  Thankfully, comedy evolved from that – such schtick does rear its head from time-to-time even today – and I’m not forced to undergo much of it at this stage of my life.
 
The Cat And The Canary does have soft touches of such foolishness here and there, and this is mostly owed to the fact that its men and women find themselves spending the night in what appears to be a traditional haunted house setting: after twenty long years, the surviving relations of deceased millionaire Cyrus West are finally being made privy to the contents of his will.  (Yes, twenty years is a long wait, but because they’d hung on him like a cat stalking a canary for so much of his last days he demanded in writing that they’d have to wait equally as long as he endured their torture.)  As Fate would have it, rumors now persist that it’s the late West himself haunting these halls, only for them to learn that matters have been made worse with an escaped mental patient loose in the area also privately stalking the grounds on this dark night.
 
So, yes, there’s a big of obvious overacting – so very common to the era – when the men and women believe they’re being spooked about; but director Paul Leni keeps a great deal of it under control.  What matters most in this tale of jilted relations is the atmosphere of the expansive estate, its dark corners, and its secret passageways.  The plot – an adaptation of a popular stage play – moves along fairly well; when Annabelle West (played by Laura La Plante) inherits her late uncle’s fortune and has to be found ‘fully sane’ by a medical professional before she can assume the riches, it’s only natural that these hanging-on uncles, aunts, cousins, etc. will stay the night in hopes that they might be named as the secret successor should Annabelle fail to meet the required standards.
 
With this being released in 1927 – possibly shot late the previous year or early that one – it’s patently obvious to see the influence such production detail likely had on Horror movies in their evolution within the United States.  The West mansion has its share of twists and turns, all with some high ceilings and a general baroque feel about the furnishings here and there.  Because the home houses the level of secrets it does, Leni put his crew through their marks; and – as a result – this one manages to both look and sound as though it could be in that same universe which Dracula, Frankenstein, and the Wolf Man would set up shot in the near future.  Some of its scares – and shenanigans – do stretch on a bit longer than necessary; and it’s easy to play the Monday morning quarterback a century later and suggest you keep your hand on the FF button for posterity’s sake.
 
Also, it’s surprisingly trim on dialogue placards, and that’s something I hadn’t expected.  A great deal of lesser information gets conveyed with just a look or a visual suggestion here and there, so much so that (again) I’m inclined to wonder why Leni or the postproduction specialists didn’t excise some unnecessary footage here and there.  At just under two hours, it’s one of the longer silent pictures that I’ve seen, and it just didn’t need to be.
​

The Cat And The Canary (1927) was produced by Universal Pictures.  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 reported as an all-new 4K restoration to be quite good from start-to-finish: yes, it’s clearly taken from some extremely old material, but the restoration looks exceptional, though I’m not a fan of the color-coded sections of the print.  (You’ll understand when you watch it.)  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Well, it’s a solid assortment; and – in order to do it justice – I’m doing the copy-and-paste from the studio’s original press materials published over at Blu-ray.com below:

• NEW4K RESTORATION OF THE FILM BY MOMA
• DTS-HD MA 5.1 score by Robert Israel; compiled, synchronised and edited by Gillian B. Anderson, based on music cue sheets compiled and issued for the original 1927 release
• NEW audio commentary by author Stephen Jones and author / critic Kim Newman
• NEW audio commentary by Kevin Lyons and Jonathan Rigby
• Mysteries Mean Dark Corners – brand new video essay by David Cairns & Fiona Watson
• Pamela Hutchinson on The Cat and the Canary – brand new interview with writer and film critic Pamela Hutchinson
• Phuong Le on The Cat and the Canary – brand new interview with film critic Phuong Le
• A Very Eccentric Man & Yeah, a Cat! – extracts from John Willard's original play
• Lucky Strike – Paul Leni gives a full-throated endorsement to the product that got him through filming The Cat and the Canary
• A collector's booklet featuring new writing on the film by Richard Combs, Craig Ian Mann, and Imogen Sara Smith
• Limited edition O-Card slipcase featuring new artwork by Graham Humphreys [2000 copies]

Again, I’ll remind readers that as I’m only provided a working Blu-ray copy of the film itself, I can’t speak to the efficacy of additional materials, such as booklets, artwork, slipcases, etc.  Those things aren’t always shared with online reviewers, so those items are considered ‘buyer beware.’  (I will say I gave both new commentaries about 30 minutes each; and – gasp! – they were both a bit dry for my tastes.)
 
Recommended.
 
Realizing that a very old Silent Era Horror/Classic is likely not going to be on everyone’s Bucket List, my task here becomes highlighting why this one is worth your time.  If you’re a fan of the Universal Pictures Monster Universe, then The Cat And The Canary might just be for you as it has long been recognized as being one of that studio’s grounding influences for that age.  Watching it, I found it very easy to recognize the linkage between it and those.  While, true, it might be a tad overlong and a bit light on actual written dialogue, it remains an interesting predecessor for where American cinema was heading in the lead-up to the 1930’s.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Eureka Entertainment and Masters Of Cinema provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of The Cat And The Canary (1927) 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 April 8, 2024!

And ... yes, yes, yes ... it's Monday ... yet again, people.  Sorry.  I can't do anything about the clock or the general progression of time itself.  Yes, I wish I could, but I've no more power than any of you.  Buckle down and you'll get through it, folks.  I promise.

But, yes, it is Monday, and here's hoping your weekend was good.  Mine was pretty solid.  I caught a screening of Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire (reviewed here) , and I was modestly entertained.  It wasn't great -- certainly not on par with Godzilla Minus One, but the American flicks are a completely different animal anyway -- but it kept me focused to a certain degree.  It's the usual American carnival thrill ride of a movie, and that's about it.  But please ... do check out my review as I think I explain why I felt the way I did with greater specificity.

Otherwise, that's about it on the genre front.  I did watch some Netflix -- a comedy program -- but nothing I'd cover in this space.  As I've always mentioned, I, too, need my time away from Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror in order to refresh the brain and just be a better writer.  Watching a variety of programs keeps the brain flowing naturally, and I strongly encourage all of you to seek out and explore strange new worlds whenever you can.

In the meantime?  Well, let's look at a few citations from today!
​

Twin Peaks is one of those shows that -- damn skippy -- just defies being categorized.

When the show's first episode aired on this day all the way back in 1990, I was there, and I can assure you that audiences probably thought they were going to get something resembling the traditional murder mystery, albeit infused with some of the cinematic leanings of the great storyteller David Lynch.  Granted, there were hints that there was definitely something vastly more complex going on in this quirky drama; and -- before long -- the program kinda/sorta became one of those seminal water cooler shows ... the kind of thing everyone was talking about, trying to piece it together with their coworkers and friends.  What did this mean?  What did that mean?  Why did nothing have a reasonable explanation?  Why did nothing function rationally?  Oh, that's because David Lynch and Mark Frost had much, much, much more in mind than just some run-of-the-mill procedural.  There were making history, folks -- whether they liked it or not -- and the landscape of television expanded exponentially in the wake of this program which lasted (initially) only two seasons.

(Yes, I know it had a theatrical follow-up as well as a serial one, but we didn't know that way back then, so pipe down, haters.)

​And ... it wasn't the kind of show that you just liked or didn't like, though I've no doubt that there were divisions within the society at large.  It was the kind of experience you saw and then found yourself questioning what it was you saw.  With its expanded cast of characters, there was always something brewing in the town of Twin Peaks -- a place that had damn fine coffee -- and a great many careers were launched on the back of its narrative.  Even its cliffhanger ending had a kind of closure that defied an ordinary explanation, and I'll be forever thankful for this little show that kinda/sorta refused to be anything other than extraordinary at every juncture.
​

The effects wizard of Douglas Trumbull was the kind of thing that truly pushed boundaries at least as much as did the stuff coming out of Industrial Light and Magic back in the 1970's.

A quick glance at the man's incredible resume stands as evidence that there was incredible work being down in the 1970's and 1980's that was pushing the industry into some incredible directions, many of which no one saw coming as closely as did Trumbull himself.

You want me to name a few?

Where oh where would Science Fiction have been without Stanley Kubrick's 1968 film 2001: A Space Odyssey?  Trumbull largely got his start bringing that production to life visually, and his track record from there gets even more magical.

In 1971, he crafted the visions of The Andromeda Strain.

In 1972, Silent Running truly upped his game a bit more, introducing a 60's 'save the Earth' mentality into a somewhat twisted look at a dark tomorrow.

In 1977, Close Encounters Of The Third Kind showed the man delivering a look at alien technology that had never before been seen on film and -- some might argue -- has rarely been seen since.

Think what you will about 1979's Star Trek: The Motion Picture as a story ... but how about those effects?  Trumbull catapulted audiences into a future that showed humanity both could and would venture boldly where no one had gone before.  Some of those sequences from decades ago still outshine modern effects work -- so far as I'm concerned -- and are seminal moments in all of Trekdom.

In 1982, the effects master delivered a dark vision of what our future could be with Ridley Scott's Blade Runner.

Along the way, the pioneer won countless accolades and praise alike.  The world of film looks different today because of what he did back then, and dare I say?  It'll likely never look better than what it did under the man's watchful eyes.
​

Once again, you've reached that place in the daily blog wherein I challenge you to never stop ... to never surrender ... and to keep searching for things that you love in genre trivia.  There's a vast array awaiting your discovery, and -- if you're up to the task -- this mission is meant for you.

Here's the link ...
​

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

​-- EZ