Sorry, folks, but it looks like most of us won't be able to enjoy the latest and the greatest from 'Marky Mark' Wahlberg who certainly has made a splash in the realm of genre projects with his work aboard the greater Transformers franchise.  He's headlining a little something-something called Infinite from director Antoine Fuqua, one of the more competent action/drama directors in that field these days.  I caught the preview for the release (apparently it's been shuffled around from release date to release date thanks to the never-ending COVID pandemic) but now is firmed up for June 10, 2021 (per IMDB.com) on the Paramount+ (certainly a less popular streaming venue based off of audience numbers I've read).

For what it's worth, the plot looks a bit reminiscent of Highlander (1986) with the exception of there being only one.  (Infinite looks to involve an entire society of immortals.)  Never been that big of fan of the Wahlberger, but he's an interesting choice here.  Neither the scriptwriter nor the screen story adapter have records all that impressive, and the reviews for the book (from author D. Eric Maikranz) upon which all of this is based are somewhat mixed, though leaning positive for fans of genre properties.  Who knows?  Maybe this is a winner, but the fact that it's dropping behind a pay wall always makes me a bit skeptical.  That's just how I am.  But -- as always -- I wish the project well ... I just wish I had a way to view it that didn't cost me more than the price of a movie ticket and a bucket of popcorn.  I'm old fashioned, and I like my flicks up on the silver screen.

Still, Fuqua's work has always been reliable, and the film boasts an incredibly impressive cast -- Wahlberg, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Jason Mantzoukas, and Wallis Day -- so let's give this one an enthusiastic welcome, all of those who can.

​Trailer is below, so check it out as you're interested.
​

As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!

-- EZ

Dirty little secret: I've seen The Tomorrow War.

Well, kinda/sorta, that is.

Awhile back during the COVID lockdowns, one of those movie marketing companies rolled through Phoenix, Arizona on a tour of showing a very early cut of the film to folks who applied to a certain website; and I was fortunate enough to make the grade.  Part of the agreement was that we didn't talk about what we saw -- essentially, we were prohibited from discussing any particulars of the motion picture at great lengths -- and I've abided by that.  I've searched online a few times to see if I could find anyone who'd broken said agreement, and I've not found any.

Still, the full trailer dropped today, promising a July 2nd release; and I think that the movie looks pretty solid.  Much of what's in there I'd already seen, but the version shown to our group (as is very common that far out in advance) had very, very early effects shots instead of complete versions.  This coming attraction includes some very small snippets of footage I recognize, and it looks vastly improved over the animatics provided to us.

As I'm still covered by that agreement, I won't say anything more ... well, other than to say that I think it's got all the makings of a typical summer blockbuster.  The ending needed some trimming (I think that's a mostly harmless assessment), but many blockbusters suffer from a bit of bloat before the final edits are screened to the masses.  Performances were good, and I'm looking to see how much this release compares to what I saw.

Trailer is below.
​

As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!

​-- EZ

I’m glad I grew up when I did.

Most folks – to varying degrees – hate growing old.  While I’m certainly no fan of the associated health issues and watching society’s continual decline, I still had the good fortune of growing up during the entertainment boom of the late 1970’s and early 1980’s.  For those caught unawares, home video was exploding as the single greatest avenue for middle class America.  Video stores dotted the countryside like weeds.  Before you could say “boo” every mom & pop grocery store or corner convenience mart was in the rental business.  For a buck, you could take home a little something-something on video that never played on your local silver screen, if your town was lucky to have one.

Why didn’t it?

Well, most likely no studio would’ve ever put their name on it.

Looking back, it’s easy to admit that, yes, many of these “films” (I thought twice about calling them that) really were just a few evolutionary steps above garbage; but they still managed somehow to maintain some modest, inescapable charm.  Clearly, they were conceived and made by folks who had something to say, even if that something was how the human face would look as it was being sawed off with a can opener.  While history books were replete with crazies who murdered others with something as everyday conventional as an axe, these films hosted villains whose preferred method of assault involved drills, bugs, sawed-off shotguns, chainsaws, bicycle chains, garden tools, engine blocks, or that good old-fashioned chest-ripping karate chop.  And there was blood.  Oh, there was lots of blood.  Not so much buckets and buckets as there were vats and vats of it.

Academics have written that just as home video spawned the revolution into such exploitation fare it also served as its death knell.  Personally, I think that’s a lot of bunk because the popularity surrounding these cult films didn’t die off; rather, I think that their makers got absorbed by the same studio system they were at one time made outside of.  These executives saw the profit potential in grindhouse style; and, thus, they created countless variations on a theme, spawning imitation across every possible genre.  Westerns got into the act, and Science Fiction got into the business.  Before you knew it, every studio was in the B-Movie market, leaving the little guys with nowhere to peddle his wares.  Consequently, they moved to greener pastures, and we are where we are.

But indie efforts have rediscovered gore, and Spare Parts is just the latest (but perhaps not greatest) attempt to recast exploitation in a mold today’s audiences might find acceptable.

How does its body count measure up?
​

[NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last three paragraphs for my final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …]

From the product packaging:
“In a godforsaken bar in the middle of nowhere, an all-girl band – Ms. 45 – rips the stage apart with their punk spirit.  But their performance impresses an enthusiastic fan who lures the girls into a trap, sedates them, and starts … customizing them.  Slowly, they begin to gain consciousness and, in total shock, realize their arms have all been replaced with axes and chainsaws to fight gladiator-style in a junkyard arena owned by a sadistic ‘emperor,’ forcing them into the battle of their lives with one prize in mind – their freedom.”

When the gorgeous Christina Lindberg stepped onto the silver screen in 1973’s Thriller – A Cruel Picture – one of the more memorable exploitation flicks of the early 1970’s – all her character Madeleine had to lose was an eye before being set out on her quest for revenge against her pimp and the men who sexually abused her.  Director Andrew Thomas Hunt ups the ante considerably in Spare Parts by casting not one but four beautiful ladies, hacks off a limb apiece, sends them into the arena, and makes them fight as much for respectability as he does their lives in his gory, little picture.  While his story (scripted by David Murdoch and Svet Rouskov) takes some time in setting up its particulars, Hunt and his gorgeous cast (Michelle Argyris, Emily Alatalo, Kiriana Stanton, and Chelsea Muirhead) dial it up to eleven (mostly) once they’re given the chance to prove they have the right stuff.

To his credit, Hunt’s exploitation has its limits: unlike Ms. Lindberg who rather famously showed all her goods and what she could do with them onscreen (in Thriller and beyond), these ladies stay covered up.  (Egad!)  There isn’t so much as a boob, a butt, or a side boob (that I recall) anywhere in sight.  Granted, they’re all covered up in blood and leather, but they’re still covered up.  Consider it the most tasteful form of gratuitous titillation possible.

No, the emphasis here is on the violence.

In that regard, Spare Parts makes the most of its moniker with the occasional disemboweling, skull crushing, and imaginative face removal.  The script moves dutifully (if not too predictably or insanely) from capture to surgery to arena to training and back to the arena, to more training, and so forth at about the same pace of those exploitation films from my youth.  If anything, the film’s biggest weakness is that there’s no real qualification of how much (or how little) time has passed: if you’re watching closely, you might even question how these lady warriors got so good so quickly … but it’s best not to think too deeply about, say, facts.  Or science.  Or reality.  If you do, Spare Parts makes little sense.
​

This is a Bizarro World – a pocket universe – that looks and acts much like our own but allows citizens to “worship” an emperor (the always interesting Julian Richings, one of the truly great lesser figures of genre entertainment).  All of this happens because, well, it’s happened for one hundred years (the only time reference I recall from the film); and even the local constabulary are in on the deal.  If you start to question just how this society was allowed to rise up in the middle of nowhere and the level of complexity required to keep it secret, Spare Parts becomes ‘spare change,’ and none of it works.  If, however, you put the brain on pause, you might mildly enjoy the best episode of Starz Network’s Spartacus redone for bargain basement cinema.

At one time, there was an audience for this kind of stuff.

Australia’s Mad Max (1979) paved the way for Max Mad 2: The Road Warrior (1981), a vastly more commercially driven sequel than the original.  What happened after that?  Well, Hollywood got into the act, and Warner Bros. inevitably gave us Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome (1985), a boilerplate sequel that pretty much remade the second film but included a tribe of lost kids in order to make Max a bit more kid-friendly.  What did we learn from this evolution?  What I took from it was that the closer and closer exploitation got to the studio system the less and less interesting its characters became.  By the time Tina Turner suited up as ‘Auntie Entity,’ the Tinseltown cartel sucked what made Max worth following on a road trip into oblivion.

So, yes, Spare Parts is a throwback to a time when films didn’t have to try so hard and were only interested in creating what spectacle they could with blood, guts, and maybe a bit of welcome feminine wiles.  It’s violent.  It’s dumb.  It’s predictable.  It’s derivative.  It’s not gonna win any Academy Award or Golden Globe.  It’s misogynistic and, somehow, equally empowering.  I suspect its audience already knows that going in … but they’ll watch it anyway.

Just like I did when I was a kid.

Just like I do as an adult.

Still, I’m glad I grew up when I did.
​

Spare Parts (2020) is produced by 9 Light Entertainment and Raven Banner Entertainment.  DVD distribution for this release is being handled by the reliable RLJE Films.  As for the technical specifications?  It looks and sounds solid – especially given the fact that this is largely an indie-style B-Movie flick – and fans will likely be thankful for a few of its gorier Gridiron kills.  As for the special features?  Honestly … wowza.  Impressive even.  The disc boasts an audio commentary with director Andrew Thomas Hunt and his cast, some making-of featurettes, a handful of brief(ish) interviews, and a few other niceties.  It’s much more than flicks of this type usually get, and I suspect some will be surprised.

(Mildly) Recommended.  Hey, look … honestly, a title like Spare Parts (2020) is clearly about forty years past its prime, and I say this knowing that the very best of the very best B-Movies came out of the 1980’s.  Its narrative?  Its characters?  Its love of blood and gore?  Well, if there’s a timelessness to B-Movies, then even this might eventually find an audience.  Stranger things have happened.  There’s a fabulous scene in its set-up involving a wheelbarrow of severed limbs that’s damn genius, even.  Its single greatest drawback?  So far as I’m concerned, it really brought nothing new to the table … except, maybe, a few pretty faces.  Here’s looking at you, ladies.

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

​-- EZ

As I’ve often confessed in this space, I tend to gravitate toward older films, especially when it comes to my Science Fiction and Fantasy viewing diet.  Why?  Well, I’ve found that older films – those conceived and produced before the widespread reliance on special effects – tend to involve more actual storytelling.  Nowadays – as popular actor Robert Downey Jr. once attested in an interview – what fails to get captured in principal photography just gets ‘fixed’ in post production anyway.  This hasn’t always been the case, and I’ve argued that such trickery makes the storytellers grow lazy as a consequence.

Thankfully, this wasn’t the case with one of my recent experiences in product reviewing: Adam Stovall’s A Ghost Waits (Arrow Films, 2020) is a small, intimate, and yet still reasonably spooky tale about two souls – one living, one deceased – who find each other on opposite sides of the living spectrum.  Jack (played by MacLeod Andrews) is a hired hand who mends broken homes for a property management company so that they can be rented out, and Muriel (Natalie Walker) is the ‘spectral agent’ whose wraithlike goal it is to keep her assigned home empty.  Across purposes, they’ve both grown alone yet world-weary.  As is the formula for any successful romantic comedy, they first come together because their respective roles require it, but they inevitably find love as a personal choice.

How in the world could that happen?

“A Ghost Waits is about human connection,” writer/director Adam Stovall told me when we recently sat down for a video chat.  “I think we have all been lonely.  I think we have all been alienated.  Especially in the horror community which is a lot of people who grew up the misfit.  We grew up shunned and ‘othered.’  These fans eventually found this community that gave them not just space to function but room to flourish.  A Ghost Waits has horror; it has romance; it has comedy; it has drama; but it also has a beating heart.”

He closes with a statement persuasive for those who perhaps find themselves in such uncharted waters as his creations Jack and Muriel:

“A Ghost Waits is the movie that I wish existed when I was fifteen.”

Make no mistake: if any budding filmmaker is out there hoping to pair himself with a distribution outlet to find and grow an audience, Arrow Films is one of the best.  Their home video releases have as many layers as do Stovall’s characters!  Whereas audio commentaries have grown (in my opinion) a bit passé, Arrow has taken steps to expand a storyteller’s reach by ponying up supplemental materials like interviews, taped question-and-answer sessions, and even video and written essays (promotional booklets included).  This gives any storyteller the chance to not only hit a home run with a particular message but also to really hit one out of the park!

Indeed, the backside of A Ghost Wait’s slipcase tells me all I need to know about the film’s central message in bold white letters on a black backdrop:

“You are not alone.”

Simply put, that's a picture-perfect presentation behind the flick’s central theme.

When asked why he believes his film has resonated with so many people, Stovall grows thoughtful.  “I think that people recognize the humanity to it, and it speaks to something that pretty much every person has experienced.”  After a pause, he added, “It’s very much about how we can find this specific humanity that is also universal.  What are the things that we’re all afraid of or that we’re all concerned with.”

Another thing that’s grown universal?

Well, that would be the critical and audience praise for his film as A Ghost Awaits.  It certainly created a stir on the festival circuit as viewers and industry professionals alike have been smitten by this case of supernatural love.  This heartwarming flick squeezes a lot of mileage into its 80-minute run-time and has played as an ‘Official Selection’ to a great handful of film festivals.  It scored matching Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Actor wins at both the 2020 Screamfest and 2020 Frightfest … an impressive double-trifecta for the director’s debut work.

Knowing that much of SciFiHistory.Net’s readership dabbles in storytelling of its own, I asked Stovall for any advice he might pass along for those interested in what he’s learned on his journey to fame and fortune.  He highlighted Dan O’Bannon’s Guide to Screenplay Structure as an effective starting point but then quickly added:

“Learn the rules so that way you can break them when you need to.  It’s such a great artwork because you have all of these different tools to use to get where you need to go.  I almost never know my ending when I start, but I have to know my ending at some point.  The beginning of the script is your idea, and the end of the script is your point.  Anything can work.  Respect the form.  Respect the story.  But respect yourself and that you have something novel to say, and then work toward it.  Storytelling is like watching a magic trick: the magicians who have the gift of gab are great, but you’re still there to see the rabbit come out of the hat.”
​
A Ghost Waits is one of those rare independent gems that captures lightning in a bottle without all of the corporate bells and whistles major film studios shackle to their releases.  It may not be as pretty as the next film you see at the multiplex – such is the nature of indie filming – but it definitely has the magic to compete on its own merits.  It’s a sentiment Stovall knew all too well when he admitted, “We may never make this movie perfect, but we can make it the best version of itself.”

Links:

SciFiHistory.Net's Review Of A Ghost Waits
A Ghost Waits Official Website
Arrow Films A Ghost Waits Promotional Videos
Rue Morgue's A Ghost Waits Movie Review
Purchase your copy today at Amazon.com

-- EZ

Folks, if I can pardon a phrase from the immortal Taylor Swift: "You gotta calm down."

Seriously, there's absolutely no way you can know that Marvel Studios' Eternals (2021) is the "best Marvel film ever" as -- to my knowledge -- no one has seen it.  All that's happened is the first of its trailers has dropped.  While it may offer up some impressive visuals, there's absolutely nothing in there about its s-t-o-r-y.

In fact, isn't Eternals a bit obscure of an entity even within the wider Marvel mythology?  It isn't like kids have been scrambling for years for a big screen take on the Eternals.  It's only a few decades old as it stands, so I'm thinking the audience size for this one might be a bit limited compared to some of the other heroes that have come before.

Yes, I understand that it's Marvel, and we've been bred to believe that All Things Marvel are golden.  And this one definitely looks quite golden in style.  But let's hold off calling it the "best Marvel ever" until we actually see the film, eh?  Can we agree to do that?

Jeepers.

In any event, trailer is below.  Enjoy.
​

As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!

​-- EZ

At my ripe old age, I've learned that there are some arguments I simply stay out of ... and that was mostly the reason why I didn't write up a full review on Godzilla Vs. Kong (2021).

Like so many, I watched it in the comfort of my own home compliments of HBO Max.  While it would've been grand to see all of its pretty visuals up on the silver screen, I just didn't all that compelled at the time; there were other features -- less blustery, less boisterous, more character-driven -- that drew my interest.  Consequently, I passed on seeing it at the multiplexes.

Because I was asked recently, I thought I'd pen a really quick thought on the movie to summarize my thoughts on it, and it essentially boils down to a single idea: Godzilla Vs. Kong illustrates the devolution of the species for this franchise so far as I'm concerned.

Godzilla (2014), Kong: Skull Island (2017), and Godzilla: King Of The Monsters (2019) preceded this big budget showdown (for those who were unawares), and each of them kinda/sorta notched a little bit less artistic storytelling along the way.  The Godzilla reboot I found to be the highwater mark, trying to in many ways emulate the ideas of the original Godzilla by pitting the big beast as much against man as much as it was against a few of the lesser Titans.  Then, starting with Kong: Skull Island and progressing to King Of The Monsters, the films grew less relevant and more pre-packaged, highlighting the hyper-quick and slick pace filmmakers felt necessary to assault the senses of the audience.  With Godzilla Vs. Kong, the franchise pretty much de-evolved to the point wherein the feature embraced the formula of any run-of-the-mill summer blockbuster: make it big, dumb, fun, and loud, insuring the biggest bang for the biggest buck.  Insert any big lumbering monster into the formula (i.e. Pacific Rim, Rampage, Emma Stone, etc.) and you'll get the same result.

When the script lacks the smarts to differentiate itself from anything else the Hollywood mill churns out, the audience inevitably loses, though the box office may win.  I've long maintained that all I want from a great Superman film is to watch big blue beat the snot out of some giant-sized man-eating robots; yet that doesn't mean I'll forfeit other messaging and/or nuances that go hand-in-hand with quality storytelling.  Godzilla Vs. Kong's plot felt like it could picked up and inserted into any giant monster movie, and that was a huge (if not giant) miss.  Audiences want to connect with the monster -- it's the spine of any monster movie -- but this one just felt bland.  It had moments, just not enough to distinguish it from the routine.

Sadly, the showdown really brought nothing new to the arena of storytelling, though the shiny MechaGodzilla help until the final act was a nice touch.  The human characters added absolutely nothing new, essentially clearing the way for the world's biggest UFC showdown ever.  In that respect, I suppose it delivered exactly what it promised -- bruises, blows, and bang-ups like never before seen.  But subtlety?  Grace?  Poise?  Meh.  Methinks the storytellers thought those ideas were overrated.

I didn't dislike the film.  Though it's fair to say I never had a dog in the fight, I'll admit I've always cheered more for Godzilla than I did Kong.  This match-up was no different.  How can brawn ever defeat pure reptillian mass augmented with those radiation-powered bleches?  It was truly no contest, if you ask me, but I've read that most folks favored Kong anyway so it's probably best I kept my mouth shut.

Besides, the big budget extravaganza just didn't seem like it had enough story for me to respond to.  Regular readers in this space know what I've said many times about conflict: there needs to be something meaty at the heart of a film in order for me to attach myself to it intellectually enough to figure out something to say about it.  I'd read a lot of what's out there on the web, and, frankly, I couldn't figure out anything worthy to add.  Some tales just hit me that way; as a consequence, I end up letting others do their worst and keep my brain power for other exercises.

In any event, the film is worth a view.  Unlike the other three, though, I've absolutely no desire to rewatch it, nor will I most likely.  It's an entertaining bout for a one-off film; and that's all I have to say about that.

As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!

-- EZ

​Full disclosure: I’ve admitted many times before that I’ve seen enough Terry Gilliam films to know that I’m not all that much of fan of Terry Gilliam films.

Now, don’t get me wrong: I don’t dislike the man or his films.  I’ve always qualified my position by confirming he’s a certified genius of a filmmaker.  Everything he touches is visually exciting and filled with fabulous, interesting performances.  It’s just that the stories he chooses to tell rarely interest me as a viewer.  I’m not debating their merits, and I’m certainly not discounting their quality: it’s just that I don’t attach myself to them.  A story that means nothing to me is a bit of a slog to watch, so I fail to connect on any emotional level.

This isn’t always the case.  His early stuff – Monty Python And The Holy Grail (1975), Jabberwocky (1977), and especially Time Bandits (1981) – are classics in this household.  As comedies, they’re still relatable, and his visuals collaborate with the themes in ways that reach out and touch the audiences.  But sometime around Brazil (1985) the director turned his focus into more interpretative tales – yes, maybe even more cerebral – and I lost focus.  In fact, I’ve tried to watch Brazil three times and fallen asleep every single one of them.  At this rate, I’ll probably never see the end of it.

Call it haughtiness if you like but I’ve always believed that if the viewer can’t connect even in some small way to the story, then all the fancy visuals (and Gilliam’s films are lauded for their visuals) are just window dressing.  It’s narrative trickery largely for the sake of narrative trickery, and that waters down the effectiveness of the storytelling.  Doesn’t make it any less artistic, but a quilt made of the finest images known to man is still just a blanket when all is said and done.

Of course, I know I’m in the minority here.  I don’t profess to be the first or last voice on the collected works of Terry Gilliam.

Still, it’s taken me some time to deeply appreciate what he accomplished with 12 Monkeys (1995). 

As a long-time Science Fiction and Fantasy junkie, it’s a film I probably should’ve loved right out of the gate but didn’t.  This twisted tale of time travel and Fate has so many levels to it that critics have long praised not only its construction and execution but also the feature is cited by many to be one of SciFi’s epic cinematic achievements.  Today – twenty-six years after its release – I’m far more inclined to agree than disagree with those sentiments.  I still have quibbles with it – small ones – but such is life.

So now that I’m in agreement with all the flick’s countless fans, let me tell you why I’m finally on their side.
​

[NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reading 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 IMDB.com:
“In a future world devastated by disease, a convict is sent back in time to gather information about the man-made virus that wiped out most of the human population on the planet.”

Conflict is the beating heart of any story, and that’s one of the reasons I’ve struggled with 12 Monkeys over the years: its central conflict – that between James Cole (played by Bruce Willis), Kathryn Railly (Madeleine Stowe), and Jeffrey Goines (Brad Pitt) – never develops until late in the picture.  In fact, the conflict that does evolve ends up being only circumstantially tied into the film’s true villain (David Morse in a small role), an Apocalypse radical whose hell bent on starting the End Times.  The absence of a central conflict leaves the audience, instead, with a character study that’s predicated on watching these events unfold chronologically, a curious construct for a time travel picture.  But given the fact that Cole is never depicted as ‘racing against time’ to stop the impending plague it’s clear that Monkeys was never about creating tension so much as it was drawing back the layers of its participants.

In that respect, Gilliam’s fable excels.

We meet Cole trapped in a prison cell, and he’s introduced as someone who may or may not have volunteered to work with scientists attempted to save the planet from certain doom.  Though we’re never given much context for why he’s willing to risk his life for others, we do learn that some of his mania is fueled by a dream from his childhood, one where he witnessed a lesser tragedy unfold just before the world fell apart.  Gilliam dissects that event as flashbacks spaced throughout the film, gradually increasing the information in tantalizing bits which grow familiar to viewers watching closely.

Similarly, Dr. Railly is introduced as little more than a pretty face in the crowd attending a lecture.  Before we know it, she’s spirited away to meet Cole on his first trip back in time, where we learn that she’s a psychologist working with the police to help the battered and the bruised overcome their various psychoses.  Unlike her colleagues, Railly is eventually shown to care for her patients beyond what is normal; and this is the first sign we’re given that our protagonist has truly found someone who cares for his wellbeing, even if it’s initially only on a professional level.
​

It’s this foundation established in the script by David Webb Peoples and Janet Peoples which is then upended over the course of events.  As the tapestry is woven, Cole seemingly grows less and less ridiculous while his captive/caretaker Railly becomes more and more conspiratorial.  Carefully orchestrated reveal-after-reveal has the good doctor questioning her sanity until she realizes that Cole isn’t crazy, that his knowledge of unfolding incidents is too precise to be the ramblings of a lunatic, and that consequently the survival of every man, woman, and child is at stake.  While she struggles to make sense of these revelations, her behaviors grow more and more frantic; in contrast, her patient finds only peace as their circumstances spiral further and further out of control.

This character-driven polar shift is the heart of 12 Monkeys, and it always will be.  Where conflict fuels most conventional dramas, Gilliam turns this cautionary tale over to its players.  Time travel – a construct that remains front-and-center throughout – is only a construct here to explore people, not so much the events in which they participate.  Sure, the director packs the picture with all of his signatory visual bells and whistles; but the true core of the film remains the work by Willis and Stowe, both exceptional in their performances respectively.

Much has been written about Brad Pitt’s character in the film as well.  Jeffrey Goines is the tried-and-true ‘crazy person’ of the script, but – for what it’s worth – I found his creation a bit too formulaic here.  Pitt turns in a great performance, though the character – a wackier-than-thou rich kid with daddy issues and probably a chemical dependency – is more than a bit of a cliché here.  He’s ‘the Joker’ to Willis’s ‘Batman,’ and as Fate would have it Goines winds up being little more than a distraction in the big climax.

Still … who knows?  Perhaps that’s the point 12 Monkeys makes all along?

Perhaps history can’t be changed.  Perhaps Fate is, somewhere, written in stone.  Perhaps the best intentions of all involved can’t ever truly save a sinking ship, and instead we’re left with trying to eek out what moments of goodness, grace, and mercy we can along the way while we’re waiting for the big sleep, that inevitable nap in the dirt awaiting us all?  Perhaps we’re always chasing our tail, and even though we’ve caught it we’re forever destined to keep running?

Where’s the future in that?
​

12 Monkeys (1995) was produced by Universal Pictures.  Distribution for this Steelbook release is being handled by Arrow Films.  As for the technical specifications?  Arrow Films has done a spectacular job with this restoration; everything looks and sounds perfect.  As for special features?  As has become typical for Arrow and their releases, this is an incredible collection even the casual fan will be excited about, including trailers, archived materials, interviews, and audio commentary.  A booklet insert also includes an essay on the film and director Gilliam that’s worth the read.

Highest recommendation possible.  Look, even the best film ever made is likely to have some narrative drawbacks, and – in my humble estimation – 12 Monkeys doesn’t avoid a few creative missteps, namely the introduction of elements that do question the sanity of its characters in moments wherein we’re already certain time has been breached, mistakes were made, and tragedies cannot be averted.  The difference between my impression of it from over two decades ago to today is that I’ve decided to embrace those faults and – like James Cole and Dr. Railly – live with that epiphany.  Sure, it’s imperfect … but so is life.  Gilliam’s produced a brilliant film worthy of endless discussion, and our genre is richer thanks to his contribution.

In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of 12 Monkeys (1995) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

The beauty of basing one's show in the Apocalypse is that, quite literally, it never has to end.

Granted, the Apocalypse has always been a never-ending business (ironic, no?), but the folks behind AMC's juggernaut of an end times franchise The Walking Dead have learned the lesson it took Star Trek's showrunners a decade or two to learn: evolve.  It isn't just enough to go back to the well and another iteration: you have to give the fans something a bit different if you want them to continue tuning in season after season.  AMC promised something different with Fear The Walking Dead, but after a few seasons it's pretty much morphed back into the original (in my humble opinion).  The Walking Dead: World Beyond looked to finally deliver something different by putting its focus somewhere down the road with the future in the hands of some youngsters who've only known the world as its been destroyed.

Its first season aired on the network, and now word comes of the program's home video release.  Details are provided below, and SciFiHistory.Net always encourages folks to invest, invest, invest in genre properties so that, hopefully, we'll always get more!

As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!
​

Pardon me if I get up on my soapbox for a minute ... and all of you damn kids get off of my lawn!

Word reached me just this morning that Evil -- a true stand-out genre program from CBS's 2019-2020 -- will, in fact be returning (finally!) for a second season ... but the network has decided to banish it behind the pay wall that is Paramount+.

Argh!!!!!

For those of you caught unawares, Evil was a weekly procedural exploring a trio of investigators teamed up by the Church to kinda/sorta debunk the nature of every day evil -- exorcisms, psychological illnesses, demonic possession, etc. -- in order to make things right with the world.  In many respects, I'd called it a "thinking man's Supernatural" (yes, the long-running paranormal program on The CW) as it gave more of an adult exploration to many of the topics that have been around for generations.  Starring the incredibly talented Katja Herbers, the incredibly underrated Mike Colter, and the incredibly yet deservedly cynical Aasif Mandvi, the drama from Michelle and Robert King finally looked like the powers that be answered fandom's prayers and gave us something similar to Fox TV's stellar The X-Files to digest on a weekly basis.

I suspect this move is being done to reward streaming platforms whose audiences have been increasingly kind to this drama's freshman season.  While it wasn't doing anything special in Nielsen ratings, Evil has become a bit of a bright star amongst those who've found it (apparently on the accursed anti-American platform that is Netflix), so the network executives have agreed to shake it from their cable line-up to give it a second chance behind the insufferable pay wall.

Although I do hate showing my age, I can't help but wonder what good this will do to the program.  As private pay platforms are free from the constraints of network censors, I can imagine the storytellers are ready to amp up the violence and the nudity; and maybe they're even salivating at the prospect of consummating Kristen Bouchard and fallen priest David Acosta's fledgling relationship (the two talents have great on-screen chemistry) for the audience that follows them.  Hopefully the intelligent writing around its supernatural elements won't suffer, but sometimes it's hard to resist the temptation "tits & ass" can bring to super-pay cable.

Ugh.

Though I'm saddened that I'll likely see no more of Evil (I'm currently not a Paramount+ subscriber, nor am I planning to become one), I do bless all involved with the show as it truly was a phenomenon in waiting.  If this keeps genre alive, then more power to it.

As always, thanks for reading ... and live long and prosper!

-- EZ

One of the things I’ve always hated about reading “professional” and/or “academic” reviews of major and minor film projects is that those writers tend to try to tie practically any story to a political, social, or ideological message.

In one sense, such a tactic gives these critics intellectual capital over the masses – or, at least, the folks who still read movie reviews and essays – and, thus, they feel the need to preach to the rest of us about all the things we do to destroy life.  “Meat is bad for you,” they’ll say, and then they’ll expound how no one was featured eating meat in the film, which somehow positions them to argue this motion picture is pro-vegan.  In reality, meat had nothing to do with the story, but never let a crisis (or opportunity) go to waste when you can castigate those you find beneath you.

On the other hand, such critical trickery can make for some unintended, entertaining reading.  Imagine a writer going to such great lengths to have something not just relevant but earth-shattering to say of a motion picture?  Oh, the mental gymnastics some folks will go to to score political points when all they’re truly accomplishing is clarifying their own biases in black-and-white for the world to see.  Such folly is enough to make regular folks like you and me laugh!

Still, I do check out what’s been written about most of the films I personally view for review purposes as part of my stewardship here on SciFiHistory.Net.  This is especially important as I watch more than my fair share of secondary releases, not necessarily the ones with the biggest stars, the broadest budgets, and the bottomless adverts.  Some of these films – especially the art-house ones – can topple some very daunting subjects, and I do feel compelled to see if the directors, screenwriters, and other creatives have sounded off elsewhere.  Consider it part of being a well-informed editor.

So I read a handful of reviews for A Ghost Waits, and I’ve seen this charming little independent comedy/horror attached to some ideas I suspect no one involved ever intended.

Like to know more?

Stay tuned after the break …
​

[NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for my final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …]

From the product packaging: “Tasked with renovating a neglected rental home, handyman Jack quickly finds out why the tenants keep leaving in droves – this house is haunted.  The ghost in question is Muriel, herself employed from beyond the veil to keep the home vacant.  Against the odds, Jack and Muriel find they have a lot in common … pulse notwithstanding.  Having found a kindred spirit in an otherwise lonely existence, they must fight for their newfound affection as pressure mounts for them each to fulfil their ‘cross-purposes.’”

Let me cut through all the rubbish and be perfectly clear on this point: A Ghost Waits is a love story.  Yes, it has a Fantasy framework by which to introduce this budding relationship between man and – erm – womanly spectral agent (that’ll make more sense once you’ve seen the picture); but there endeth the lesson.  This is no cerebral study of what makes one person choose life over death, much less death over life … unless you consciously choose to take that message from it.

Here’s the dirty little secret about film criticism, and I learned it all the way back in junior high school: most of the messages you find in a particular film are morals you put in there.  Storytelling (or most of it) is largely a subjective process: writers may put emphasis here and there, and they very well may come out and proclaim a stance on some controversial political issue, but far more often than not it’s your emotional and intellectual issues you see reflected or endorsed in your interpretation of the tale.

There’s nothing wrong with that.  In fact, that’s part of why many of us watch films or read books: to achieve even a small sense of validation over how we see the world.  It’s part of identifying with a character’s plight, giving it and yourself meaning beyond this single moment in existence.  It binds us to life.  We share in the narrative.  It’s personally rewarding (on some level), though it doesn’t mean every little possible moral to the story is defensible.  That’s just one interpretation, and there are likely as many interpretations are there are viewers.

In other words, some scholars and critics might watch a film like A Ghost Waits and come away claiming that all involved are proclaiming their support for suicide.  The script from writer/director Adam Stovall (with additional script duties from star MacLeod Andrews) introduces two characters whose circumstances are such that taking one’s life may’ve been the only way out of a dreary, depressing existence … but that doesn’t necessarily translate that these storytellers are advocating such a position for everyone watching.  Sure, it may’ve worked for these two characters, but this is a filmed Fantasy, people.  A little perspective goes a long way, especially when the viewer uses common sense.
​

Naturally, there’s a risk in exploring some topics.  Some folks don’t have the best coping mechanisms, and I think it’s a fair response to ask any responsible filmmaker to use caution when introducing such elements.  But given the broader context of the film – it has multiple ghosts, it has a corporate-structured ghost afterlife with bosses and timecards and friendly competition, and it has ongoing dialogue between the living and the deceased – I’d caution the brainiacs to not make so much of one plot point while ignoring its context.  After all, aren’t you folks the ones who insist “context matters?”

A Ghost Waits is a fanciful love story, and – in that regard – it’s a damn pleasant one.  It has humor.  It has heart.  It has serendipitous revelations.  And, yes, it has death … the ultimate bittersweet subject for all time.  While I may not agree with Jack’s means to an end, I still understand why he did what he did.  It was, uniquely, his solution; and that’s what the picture needed.

That baggage aside, I’d argue that A Ghost Waits still has a few shortcomings, the single greatest of which is establishing Jack’s overall mindset in the film’s set-up.  I would rather the script spent a bit more time and effort making the character dimensional.  Too quickly, he becomes the mildly cynical comic relief of the picture, and – come the ending – I didn’t feel I’d gotten to see just how despondent his lifestyle was.  It just seemed too convenient, too contrived, and too circumstantial.  Had I been given more, then I may not have felt the ending rushed.  (Mind you, I still thought it was handled wonderfully given the context; I just wish I ‘felt’ his choice was as necessary as he did.)

Furthermore, the constraints of indie filmmaking kinda/sorta worked against A Ghost Waits depicted afterlife.  As I mentioned previously, Stovall’s creation posits an almost factory-like existence waiting for us; but the budget didn’t allow for a handful of extras who could’ve given these sequences greater depth.  The way Stovall and company handle it here felt almost like a stage play environment adapted to the big screen; while effective, it felt uncharacteristically small for what I was led to believe was a larger corporate undertaking.  A couple of additional faces – even just passerbys – would’ve sufficed.  1991’s superb Defending Your Life touched on a similar idea – the afterlife being an entire construct of a commercial entity where even the dead still have work to do; that couldn’t have been accomplished on Ghost’s budget, but I feel a bigger attempt was needed for its own atmosphere.

I think the greatest compliment a reviewer can make – especially when dealing with these smaller, quieter, and one might argue nobler releases – is that the lack of financial investment didn’t damage the overall product.  A Ghost Waits works nearly perfectly without the backing of a major studio and/or a Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman pairing.  Still, I can’t help but wonder what Stovall and company can accomplish with a cavalry of investors … which they should find lining up to fund the next project if there is a God.

​A Ghost Waits (2020) was produced by Rebecca Films.  DVD distribution for this release is handled by Arrow Films.  As for the technical specifications?  Yes, it’s an indie feature, but the majority of this looks and sounds about as good as one should expect.  (There was an annoying bird chirping in one sequence on the home’s back patio; but it is what it is.)  As for the special features?  Again, this is Arrow Film, and they have an incredible reputation for turning out product with supplemental features.  This assortment is no different: there are multiple commentary tracks, cast interviews, video essays, a Q&A session with Stovall (a bit hard to hear at times), outtakes, trailers, images, and more.  Seriously, you won’t be disappointed.

Strongly recommended.  I tend to gravitate toward these secondary releases more than most who jabber about SciFi and Fantasy, so I may be professionally biased.  Still, I have no problem admitting I loved A Ghost Waits knowing full-well that the context here was a feel-good, kinda/sorta coming-of-end-age love story for a spirit and her man.  The dialogue is whip-crack smart and the presentation – while obviously ‘indie’ – succeeds of most levels.  Don’t think about it too much.  Don’t shackle this film with the divisive noise of the 10 o’clock news.  Fall in love all over again … even if you think it’s too late.

In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video provided me with a Blu-ray DVD of A Ghost Waits by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ