As I’ve said before, I’m quite smitten with the world of film noir.
 
Honestly, I love it for a whole lot of reasons but only one in particular that I often share with readers here: I see film noir as a black-and-white existence most often populated with broken people making broken choices, and I like to call these characters ‘monsters of a sort.’  That’s why I’ll occasionally cover noirs in this space – along with the Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror features – when I get the inkling, and that happens a lot when I can squeeze in the screenings.
 
Such is the case today as I was graciously provided a complimentary Blu-ray set by Kino Lorber: Film Noir – The Dark Side Of Cinema, Volume XIII.
 
First up: an exceptional spy story – certainly not unheard of for noir – that goes by the name of Spy Hunt.
 
(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:
“During the Cold War, a microfilm concealed in the collar of a panther, transported by freight rail, is sought by several spies after the animal escapes its cage following the train’s derailment in Switzerland.”
 
If that plot synopsis sounds a bit convoluted, then all I can say is rest assured that it actually works quite nicely throughout Spy Hunt, a mostly lean Cold War-style thriller involving guys, spies, and lies.  For a picture I’d never even heard about before popping it in the player, this one was a wonderful surprise.  It boasts a solid premise, a few welcome character twists, and even a bit of dated but interesting well shot action sequences.  In fact, I enjoyed it so much because it exemplifies a kind of loosely stylized storytelling found most often in only the best older flicks.  Feel free to add this one to your list.
 
Steve Quain (played by a memorable Howard Duff) is – apparently – an animal trainer in Europe who seizes upon the opportunity to escort a few famed black panthers on a rail trip that is supposed to inevitably take him back home to the good ol’ United States.  However, a lovely secret agent by the name of Catherine Ullven (a mildly exotic Märta Torén) has been tasked by her superiors to hide proof of some political skullduggery (on a microfilm) in one of the wild animals’ collars, certainly a place no mortal man would think to search.  But the chance discovery by a pair of conspiring thugs puts them in pursuit, meaning that the good lady will have to get the evidence back before it falls back into the hands of the enemy!  As tends to happen in – cough cough – thrilling melodramas of the bygone era, she not only teams up with Quain to hunt the escaped beasts through the Swiss Alps but also pledges her heart to him before all is said-and-done in the big finish.  Once again, Hollywood proves that love conquers all.
 
Yes, yes, and yes: reading between the lines, one might discern that the whole affair of Spy Hunt is a bit incredulous at times, but the cast and crew buy strongly enough into the premise that it makes for a very entertaining adventure.  George Sherman (who directed 1944’s The Lady And The Monster along with a great deal of Westerns) keeps the flick moving at an appreciable pace, never quite allowing the action or the intrigue to slow down enough to allow viewers time to question some otherwise curious circumstances.  Like crafting a respectable Agatha Christie mystery, screenwriters Victor Canning, Leonard Lee, and George Zuckerman space out both character introductions and a few secret reveals effectively, never quite giving too much nor too little information but hitting the ‘just enough’ sweet spot each and every time.
 
In fact, the entire caper builds wonderfully to a bedside showdown wherein only Ullven’s quick thinking – and a wee bit of luck – give the good guys the chance to best the baddies in the nick of time.
 
Spy Hunt (1950) was produced by Universal International Pictures.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the good folks at Kino Lorber.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I can attest to the fact that the product packaging confirms this is an all-new 2K mastering, and it looks and sounds very, very good.  (I did notice a momentary audio glitch late in the picture, and I’m guessing that might be a flaw from the source material.)  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  The disc boasts an audio commentary hosted by journalists/authors Bryan Reesman and Max Evry along with some promotional trailers for fans to review.
 
Highly recommended.
 
As Spy Hunt (1950) was packaged as part of a collection of film noirs, I’ll have to admit that – of the three – it was the strongest of the bunch, damn near head-and-shoulders over its partnered flicks.  Some of this is owed to the fact that the script combines elements of a straight action picture with that of a good spy potboiler, and the production clearly benefits from some quality cinematography that takes audiences from darkened city exteriors to the great wide open of the Swiss Alps (or a reasonable facsimile).  It also avoids some of the usual melodrama ascribed to so many films of its era.  Still, the cast is strong, the action is solid, and good triumphs over evil in the end.  What more could you ask for?
 
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 Spy Hunt (1950) – as part of their Film Noir: The Dark Side Of Cinema XIII collection – by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

Because I do an awful lot of casual reading on genre films, I’ve found that certain titles – releases from the days of yore – somehow almost earn their own mythical reputations.
 
While essentially there’s nothing wrong with this – each of us is perfectly entitled to champion whichever and whatever flick ‘floats your boat’ (as they say) – I do try to approach these pictures with kid gloves.  Seeing what someone else has seen in a story or a performance can be tricky business.  My filters have me attuned to pick up only what works for me, so I do try to exercise of modicum of caution when finally getting the opportunity to sit down with something that’s been touted for so long as a ‘hidden gem.’  After all, there are plenty of reasons why one film might resonate with you and fail to strike a chord with me, and I think my exercised restraint has served me well over the years.
 
And – for the record – I’ve lost count of the number of times Kamikaze (1986) has been recommended to me by others or has stumbled over in some reading.  It’s certainly popped up dozens of times that I can think of, and I think most of its reputation is owed to the fact that the project was an earlier work stemming from the creative mind of Luc Besson.  While not his first screenplay, it definitely rates as one of his earlier properties, and it came about well before he rose to prominence with such pictures as The Big Blue (1988), Leon: The Professional (1994), and The Fifth Element (1997).  Viewed entirely against the backdrop of a genre legend in transition, I suppose many who saw Kamikaze back in the day might’ve remembered the name and, thus, granted the feature some extra goodwill as each of us are wont to do from time-to-time.
 
Thanks to the good people at Kino Lorber, I’ve finally had the privilege of digesting one of Besson’s early attempts … and it’s easy to see why some have awarded it with such revered status.  Though I may not find it as significant as others, I do have something to say about its place and time that might reflect on a cinematic trend of that era, so stay tuned for 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 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 crazy old and bored scientist invents a system which allows him to reach through the airwaves and transform live TV cameras into weapons to kill whoever is being filmed.”
​

Without belaboring this point too much, what I found particularly interesting about Kamikaze is where it kinda/sorta falls in the zeitgeist of the mid-to-late 1980’s.  Its sensibilities both align and defy a bit of what other storytellers were doing elsewhere on the planet, and I think that makes for an attractive comparison.
 
Chiefly, I’m talking about Tech Noir, an emerging sub-genre popularly defined from such 1980’s films as Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner (1982, James Cameron’s The Terminator (1984), and Paul Verhoeven’s RoboCop (1987).  Certainly, there are other features that demonstrate this theatrical trend of questioning the benefits and detriments of emerging technologies, yet I’ve personally always looked at these three flicks as really building a solid foundation upon which the house that becomes Tech Noir is built.  Director Didier Grousset’s Kamikaze is modest with its special and practical effects by contrast, but an examination of its central villain – unemployed scientist Albert (played by Michel Galabru) – uncovers striking similarities to the themes of those meatier pursuits.
 
In film’s opening, Albert – who apparently works in electronics and/or robotics, it’s never quite clear – is fired by letter.  His thirty years of service means nothing to the big corporation, and he’s summarily excused from his position when an office lackey shows up with written confirmation that his post has been terminated.  Because – as a man – he’s been reduced to little more than a faceless cog in the industrial machine, Albert dutifully but begrudgingly packs up his meager belongings and heads for home, where he announces to his live-in nephew and niece that his career is over.  While they go about the business of living life to the fullest (apparently with no jobs but plenty of free time for holidays), Albert shuts himself in with little more than a television set to while away the endless hours.
 
As a consequence of being reduced to nothing, Albert has no choice but to direct his growing resentment with mankind at the talking heads on the Boob Tube.  Being somewhat overweight and unattractive, the inventor grows increasingly angry with one television commentator after another – all of which happen to be female and, more likely, the kind of females that would spurn the attractions of a somewhat overweight and unattractive male of Albert’s age – so he concocts a scheme to have them not only removed from his life but all of mankind.  Using the only gifts he has – his genuine intellect – the scientist devises a death ray that utilizes television broadcast frequencies in order to kill off these adversaries one by one.  These murders happen on live television, on camera for the home audiences to serve as witnesses.
 
In Ridley Scott’s aforementioned Blade Runner, the replicant Rachel has evolved to the point wherein it no longer knows much less questions what it is or who it is.
 
Similarly, Albert – presumed to be a man of pure science – has lost touch with most if not all of his own humanity.  As we’re given no other backstory upon which to evaluate his nefarious motivations, I think it’s safe to assume he’s a man who has spent his life among machines, building and perfecting them to serve some basic function.  Having spent little to no time among humans, he consequently sees them as little more than obstructions to his preferred way of life.  He cannot – and chooses not – to relate to them.  In fact, all we see of his interactions with family is constant struggle and constant disappointment; they do not adhere to his imposed standards, so removing them from his life is merely a passionless solution – the logical conclusion to an ineffective relationship.  Though one could argue that shreds of a moral core still exist (Albert clearly knows what he has done is wrong and unlawful in the last reel as evidenced by his attempts to, first, misdirect the police and then flee for his safety), he no longer responds to those impulses.  Instead, he reverts to his core programming of inventing machines to perform his bidding.  He uses his genius to serve his dark, perhaps sometimes misogynist desires – now that he’s free of his corporate overlords – and this becomes his sole purpose.
​

Interestingly enough, I’d ask how is Albert’s life mission all that much different from the model T-800 in Cameron’s The Terminator?  How is it all that much different than the cyborgized Alex Murphy in RoboCop?  Granted, what develops over the life of those more mechanical characters might have greater symbolism, but the point here is that at the same time directors Scott, Cameron, and Verhoeven were pulling back the veil on how up-close-and-personal the threats to advancing technology were on their side of the world, director Grousset – along with screenwriters Besson and Michèle Pétin – were taking a markedly different tact but – maybe – heading in the same direction.
 
Setting aside the cerebral influences, Kamikaze is a pretty solid thriller with some mild comic flair thrown in for good measure.  It’s cleverly shot, and – while not all of the science is perfectly accessible – it’s assembled in such a way as to make it both prescient and entertaining.  Richard Bohringer also stars as the police inspector who both uncovers Albert’s scheme and races to stop him before it’s too late, and Dominique Lavanant turns in good marks as the comely government official who might inadvertently fall victim if they can’t stop him soon enough.
 
Kamikaze (1986) was produced by ARP Sélection, Gaumont, and Les Films du Loup.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable folks at Kino Lorber.  As for the technical specifications?  Though the packaging doesn’t list any remastering of this, I thought that the sights and sounds were actually all very, very good.  Images are definitely crisp – meaning this had some excellent cinematography for the period – and the soundtrack is reasonably clear and vibrant.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  The disc boasts an audio commentary by film historian Eddy Von Mueller, a director’s interview, and a documentary on the making of the picture, along with the usual coming attractions.  It’s a very solid collection that should keep fans interested for some time.
 
Highly recommended.
 
Kamikaze is a film that – somehow – I’ve heard a great deal about over the years that I’m finally delighted to have seen.  Not only is it a biting satire on the dangers of consuming too much television but also the film is a testament to the budding career of Luc Besson (who crafted the screenplay).  As can happen with projects that blend genres, there’s just enough science to make it SciFi – along with just enough humor to make it a dark comedy – but adding noir sensibilities (with just a touch of Tech Noir) elevates this nearly to point of making it a ‘must see’ for fans of 80’s techno thrillers.
 
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 Kamikaze (1986) by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

One of my greatest laments as I get older is that I don’t have as much time to read as I used to.
 
Back in the 1990’s – for example – I made it a personal goal to read a minimum of one book a month.  This lasted for about a year, at which point I realized it had grown too easy an accomplishment, so I raised it to two books a month … only to raise that to three books … at which point I think I probably topped out for about a decade.  It felt good – the brain was always working, and the ideas were always flowing – but it just couldn’t sustain itself.  Activities started to pull me away from my routine reading time, and – over the last decade – I’ve struggled to get back on track.  The greatest motivation is that I’ve fully committed myself to reading only that which truly interests me any longer; this has definitely forced me to toss a few novels and tomes aside when I reach a point wherein the work fizzles, and I reach for something else.  Yes, that might be sad, but it’s helped me – in small ways – to discover that joy of truly appreciating what a good book does for the noggin when given the perfect opportunity.
 
But because I do tend to gravitate toward subjects I’ve always been interested in, it has grown harder and harder to seek out and find something that appears truly inspired.  Too much of non-fiction these days feels very lightweight, so I have found that I rely on other reviews to point me in the direction of something truly riveting … and that’s how I pretty much stumbled into Ross Coulthart’s In Plain Sight.  Essentially, it was recommended to me as being a ‘deep dive’ into the world of UFOology and somewhat related sciences; and I supposed that’s an accurate foundation as any.  I did have some issues with it – most of which relate to the author’s kinda/sorta curious stances here and there – and I’ll try to offer up a few humble thoughts to those who might be thinking about a purchase and a subsequent read.
 
For those unaware, Coulthart is an award-winning investigative journalist.  Based in Australia (as best as I can say), he’s penned pieces that have found airtime on the popular 60 Minutes and beyond; and his career has certainly been followed by great praise for his ability to parse sense from the nonsense across a variety of subjects.  Just how he can to have any fascination with the world of UFOology I’ve not been able to find, but – given his credentials – perhaps that shouldn’t be so alarming in this day and age?  Many who’ve reported on science and current events have had greater cause to look into what was once deemed a pretty ‘fringe’ topic, and maybe that’s the introduction into All Things Extraterrestrial that the man needed.  Whatever the case, I, for one, am happy he’s shining a bit of light on the whole affair.
 
Alas, In Plain Sight – while very, very good – is not quite the ‘deep dive’ I had expected.  In fact, in many ways, it’s a somewhat superficial exploration and extrapolation of the history of flying saucers, the Men In Black, and many closely related minutiae.  I don’t say this as an insult to the book in the slightest because I think – as a starting point – Coulthart’s expose is quite exceptional.  Covering nearly a century of our society’s most active years with whatever these things are in the skies and beyond, he rather deftly moves from the earliest days to the present, all the while adding a new twist or turn as, culturally, we’ve taken a step closer to disclosure.  Think of this book as a fabulous foundation to the serious study of UFOs and what they might mean, and you’ve got a wonderful starting point.  However, more reading will be required for you to achieve the level of a scholar in each of the individual areas of emphasis.
 
Also, it’s occasionally a bit difficult to grasp exactly whether or not Coulthart accepts the reality of what his work covers.  As is so often the case with UFO-related literature, there are no real secrets exposed here – there’s a lot of talk from industry insiders that never quite amounts to much more than hype – and he’s often a bit dour on them.  Despite naysaying an awful lot of what has been talked about for decades, Coulthart kinda/sorta dismisses each expert because they’ve failed to deliver, and he only periodically reminds readers that some of these promises relied on others who didn’t ‘put up’ when the opportunity arrived.  While, sure, that’s disheartening, I just don’t see that sufficient cause enough to sit back and wait for something else to ignite the phenomenon again.  Perhaps we should accept that, at this point, disclosure is a distant reality as the ones with all the secrets have had decades to bury the truth.
 
Presenting facts is one thing, but the author clearly likes to comment on those facts.  In ways, that distracts from the substance already worthy of greater discussion.  I’d rather know what we know (minimally) and leave a bit of faith to those out there trying to shake reality up, but I realize – especially for someone who is an authentic investigative reporter – that may never be enough.
 
Strongly recommended.  If you’re hoping for a deep dive, then you might want to look a bit further … but I’d still encourage those of you who like the study of UFOs as much as I do to pick up a copy and peruse.  A few of the more current cases get some great writeups in here, and I think they’re owed their own book at some point.  In the meantime, this might whet your whistle with anticipation for the next big read, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

​-- EZ

Well, well, well ... what did you do over the Memorial Day weekend?

Longtime readers of SciFiHistory.Net will know that -- when it comes to Science Fiction, Fantasy, Horror, and even Reality -- I do take my various fascinations very seriously, and I've always confessed -- whenever asked -- to having been a lifelong fan of UFOlogy as well.  While never having seen a flying saucer myself, I've read countless books examining the whole affair, and I've come to the conclusion that the truth behind whatever the phenomenon is has to be something vastly more complex than perhaps society has ever considered.  Yes, yes, yes, I say this knowing that there are cases that most likely are little more than clever hoaxes, but the vast majority of the unexplained accounts still need the sometimes dry examination of science even though (ahem) scientists consider the subject well beneath them.  Sad.  Very sad, indeed.

​Still, it's understandable how a guy like me could be interested in saucers, ships, and the supernatural; so over the weekend the wifey was kind enough to drag me to Scottsdale, Arizona (of all places) for a tour of The UFO Experience.  It's a somewhat kitschy attraction that -- on the surface -- folks might think was designed for kids.  Being part of a location popular with families (including an aquarium, a butterfly attraction, and a few other haunts), it certainly is a premium (and modestly expensive) place to go, and -- yes -- one might argue that even the UFO Experience is a bit pricey given the lack of definitive proof into the whole field of the flying saucers.  I can assure you that as far as the wifey and I are concerned?  We had a blast.

I bring it up in this space today because -- quite frankly -- it is a destination that serious fans of SciFi might want to know about if for no other reason than it clearly was crafted to harness the appeal of our genre.  There are a good handful of -- ahem -- life-sized aliens both outside and within the establishment, meaning that you can of course pose with any number of those nefarious little green men (from Mars, don't you know) for pictures.  There's even a reasonably large replica of a flying saucer along the thoroughfare out front that makes a great spot for pics.  And folks who want to pay for the premium package can even pay a little extra for a posed snap with some very authentic-looking ones, but we passed on that opportunity, instead just wishing to take a gander into what the place holds.

​The UFO Experience begins in a little ampitheater wherein the seated audience is given a bit of an introduction to the place.  While it would've been nice for the facility to, perhaps, have given a stronger set-up for the whole of the UFO phenomenon, this video really is a bit more kiddie-focused, pretty much boiling the topic down to mysterious lights in the sky, a few CGI graphics of space travel, and a single Man-In-Black who kinda/sorta promises to keep an eye on your while you're under his roof.  Again, it's clever -- very kid-friendly -- but nothing in-depth or earth-shattering.  Not exactly what I was expecting, but it's heart was in the right place, after all.
​

After the introduction, you're pretty much on your own to wander the place at your own pace, which is always nice.  There are dozens of wall placards to read from, and the venue is dissected (pun intended) into several major sections, each kinda/sorta focusing on one area of the larger phenomenon.  For example, there's one area focused on sightings -- including a listening post where you can hear from 911 audio involving reported UFOs -- and another one on abductions.  There's a section on the whole Ancient Aliens aspect -- that is, actually, probably the highlight (for me) of the little tour) -- and then a great deal of fodder centered on UFO tie-ins to pop culture (movies and television shows).  There's even a room -- don't ask me to explain this or why it's here except for the kiddies -- that simulates what it would be like walking on the moon, and it boils down to little more than an indoors bouncy house ... not that I'm complaining.

Yes, I took a walk on the moon.  Why do you ask?

There are even a few audiovisual attractions wherein you can sit and watch such things as U.S. Congressional hearings into the subject of UFOs.  The chamber focused on abductions has a few small video features -- they highlight the Betty and Barney Hill story along with the Travis Walton affair -- but those were in use while we were there so I couldn't get a seat to check them out.  But the real focus throughout the exhibit is on reading the wall materials, and -- to be fair -- there is plenty to read.  Nothing goes to any great depth, but if you're like me you make the most of what there is.
​

As I said, the UFO Experience certainly makes the most out of aliens and/or alien-themed ties to pop culture, so there are a few smaller areas that focus on movies.  Alien (1979) and Aliens (1986) definitely get a bit of coverage, as does The Terminator with an assortment of movie props here and there.  It was curious that they'd still incorporate such obvious fiction right smack dab in the middle of some stuff involving the alleged 1947 UFO recovery from Roswell, New Mexico -- almost as if the curators are trying to suggest that Roswell is a bit of fiction (???) -- but it does make for a nice display.  Someone has certainly made a nice investment in the space, and -- for genre fans -- it makes for a welcome distraction.

All-in-all, the wifey and I spent about 90 minutes in the place, and that includes nosing around its way-too-small gift shop.  (I was hoping for a greater assortment of books to check out, but I did find something from Nick Redfern that I don't have in my collection so I made the purchase.)  Honestly, we could've been there longer -- had we invested time in the audio/visual spots -- but they were occupied, and neither of us like to be perceived as 'Lookie Lous' while others are partaking of them.  While some might not find it as good a value for their money, I did think it was worthwhile, mostly because (as I've already disclosed) I've always been in to this kind of thing.  Yes, it could've used a bit more depth here-and-there, but as a tourist-style attraction dedicated to shininig just enough light on one of mankind's enduring mysteries?  It works very well for casual observers.
​

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

​-- EZ

I've often described 1986's Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome as a movie without a destination.  Briefly, let me explain why.

Its predecessors -- Mad Max (1979) and Mad Max 2: The Road Warrior (1981) -- are two Apocalyptic films that benefit from clear mission statements.  Both of them had a message about the End Times they wanted to deliver -- one about the lengths to which a man can be pushed and the other about how that same man might still find redemption on the broken road -- and both delivered precisely what they set out to do.  Without fanfare and/or excess, they played with the people left at the fall of the world, and yet they still both found a way -- small and big -- to suggest life (of some sort) would go on, and it even might have a purpose that could only be found in our species' plummet into madness and chaos.  Hope prevailed in The Road Warrior, and it did so because some men -- men like Max -- were still willing to accomplish the unthinkable.

​For all of its posturing, Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome felt like the Hollywoodization of Armageddon.  It didn't quite give Max a purpose -- well, other than to a drifter wandering from one stinkhole to another -- and instead turned him into a journeyman who could be hired out to just about anyone for a price.  I say this knowing full well that the goodness in him still forces him onto the right path as the script was written, but it wasn't a trip that felt entirely as relevant as the other films.  In fact, I thought at times it was little more than a retread of what had come before, cheapening an otherwise curious attempt to expand on that franchise by bringing nothing new to the table.

And, yes, it was nice to see Tina Turner on the screen.  Her big baddie -- Auntie Entity -- wasn't quite the force needed to propel Max and his minions into future box office fortune and glory: in fact, the intellectual property pretty much fell at the way side after this adventure -- perhaps understandably so -- only to be resurrected again in grand style with all new faces in 2015 as Mad Max:Fury Road.  But I can't fault Tina for giving it her best.  She brought her characteristic strut to the Apocalypse only as needed, and I believe a stronger script -- one with a clearer narrative purpose -- might've lifted Max to stellar heights for, at least, another picture or two back in the day.

But about Miss Turner?

​Her career remains something worthy of study.  IMDB.com reports that throughout her time in the entertainment business, she amassed an incredible 22 wins along with another 31 nominations.  I'll always remember her as one of those artists there in the early days of MTV -- back in the era when they were truly about music -- and I'll celebrate her time and music for the rest of my days as well.

Alas, none of us lasts forever, and word has reached my desk of her passing today.  I do recall reading something a few months past about her struggles -- this was apparently a long, protracted illness, though I'm unsure on the particulars -- and I believe the article had even lightly suggested she might be nearing the end of her days.

As always, thoughts and prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Tina Turner.  May she forever rest in peace.

-- EZ

​Folks, it isn’t always easy to find something relevant to say about every motion picture.
 
Because I do prefer old films – always have and likely always will – I do exercise the benefits of having so much already written about the features.  I love not only writing about film but equally treasure reading about them, especially articles and columns that teach me something about an artwork’s message, its construction, or its lasting impact.  Scouring the net as much as I do has shown me that we, culturally, all have something to say about the films – big and small – that we find; and these artists have put incredible effort into composing something that they believe personally will reach out and touch us in a way only they can.  Sometimes, it works.  Sometimes, it doesn’t.
 
As a thinker, I find more joy in exploring flicks that fail.
 
Why?  Well, that’s an easy answer.  It gives me a foothold with which to consider what message I believe was intended, and then I can compose my own game plan to document how I personally believe it missed that mark.  That doesn’t make me right – nor does it prove that my hypothesis is flawed in any way – but it presents you – the reader – with a point or two to ponder when you sit down and look at the flick.  I’m not looking to persuade you; rather, I’m only trying to point you in a direction that might suggest relevancy.  As always, you’re free to like what you like … and that’s because preferences are vastly too personal for each of us to be ignored.
 
1973’s Fantastic Planet is a picture I’ve read an awful lot about over the years.  Why, I can even remember – as a little guy – seeing a picture of it in an episode of Starlog Magazine (I believe it was) that intrigued me, wondering what its depicted creatures big and small could all be about.  Well, I’ve finally seen it – thanks, Turner Classic Movies – and I have a little something to say about it that might not quite reconcile with what the artistic masses think of the film.  But stranger things have happened, no?
 
(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:
“On a faraway planet where blue giants rule, oppressed humanoids rebel against their machine-like leaders.”
 
Sigh.
 
As can happen from time-to-time, IMDB.com and its countless contributors kinda/sorta get it wrong (to a degree, anyway), and – in the opinion of this reviewer – such is the case today.
 
The (ahem) Fantastic Planet in question – though some may find such particulars unimportant – is called Ygam, and – if I’m being completely fair – it isn’t exactly ruled by the Draags, those aforementioned blue giants.  It is their planet.  This is their home.  Being native to it, I’m not certain why whoever wrote the synopsis did this way, but it’s a bit misleading.
 
The oppressed humanoid rebels – who go by the name of Oms, in the picture – are actually humans from Earth.  As best as I can recount the background, Earth of the future is apparently decimated by some conflict, and – for reasons never quite clear in the draft of this script by Roland Topor and director René Laloux (as adapted from the Stefan Wul novel) – the Draags have apparently forced immigration upon the Oms by bringing them to Ygam.  (Sorry, but if this point was clarified, then I completely missed it.)
 
Therein lies my single greatest concern with Fantastic Planet’s premise: just how the human race got here – if we were indeed transported here – is never addressed, and this omission remains kinda/sorta at odds with everything the viewer learns of the Draags over the course of the ensuing seventy minutes.
 
Now, our cultural betters would likely have a field day with my argument as a good deal of film criticism for Fantastic lies around the allegory of its central message.  From what I’ve come to know (from reading), Topor and Laloux sought to use this particular story as an allegory for the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia (or, at least, that’s what is widely accepted), framing the Oms as the encroached upon Czecks and their Soviet oppressors as the Oms.  Of course, that’s all well and good – again, so far as this viewer is concerned – as the characters, events, and circumstances all fill out their narrative weight just fine across the parable.  (I won’t belabor my review with that in any great detail as it’s out there – in spades! – for those who wish to know more.  Just Google it.)  But lacking a clearer picture as to why the eventually villainous Draags sought to save the human race from extinction – while treating them so poorly on Ygam – doesn’t quite reconcile with the rest of the film.
​

Assuming for a moment that the Draags even have space flight capabilities any longer (there are some suggestions that it’s a technology they’ve let kinda/sorta go into disarray at this point culturally as it’s no longer needed), just how and why they discovered Earth – along with what they saw when they went there – could’ve used a bit of explanation.  (Yes, yes, yes: I realize some of this may’ve been lost in translation, but hear me out.)  For example, if they found our world entirely decimated and looked further then they would’ve found (somewhere) evidence of an intelligent race.  Despite what remained, the human race would still have left a record of invention and innovation.  True, it’s sad that all of our good deeds would still have led to apparently our destroying ourselves, but the sum total of any species should never boil down to a single character flaw, no matter how egregious.
 
So … did the Draags take pity on us because we were such small and small-minded creatures in their eyes?  At this point in the story, humans are viewed as little more than pets – though, honestly, insects would be far more appropriate given the way this story unfolds – and I kept wondering, “Why would any species as advanced as the Draags seek to import a new type of bugs to their world?”  Fantastic’s script makes great bones about the fact that there are both domesticate and wild Oms – again, this highlights the emphasis on the reality that we’re a veritable infestation to their world – so why oh why would they have brought us here?  Especially, why would they have even thought twice about importing us seeing what we did to our own planet?
 
Setting that narrative flaw aside … sure!
 
I’d tend to agree with so much of what’s already been written about Fantastic.  Clearly, there’s an important core message to all of the affairs here, one that’s heavily centered on acceptance.  The Draags seem to deem anything inconvenient to their existence as being unworthy of sharing space, and the depiction of their efforts to – quite literally – wipe out the Oms entirely are exceedingly grim.  (If you haven’t heard, then let me assure you that Fantastic Planet is not an animated films for kids, unless they’re of an age wherein you and they can speak intelligently with one another afterwards.)  That doesn’t quite jive with my thoughts above – if humans are so inconsequential, then why did you bring them here in the first place – but the flick very vividly invests efforts in showing a small-scale genocide very well.
​

As I’ve always said, I don’t like to have to do the heavy lifting (to a degree) when evaluating what a film means.  The reason?  Well, the more I have to do, then the less effective I believe the storytellers made their point.  Yes, it’s nice to have something to think about, but I’ve always argued that great yarns resonate all on their own and don’t require Crib Notes in order to be accessible to everyone.  Fantastic Planet – on the surface – gets an awful lot of respect from scholars, academics, and the like; and I’d never question their commitment to giving this little flick the attention they think it deserves.  My point, solely, is that – the more I think about it – the less some of the secondary elements make sense; not only that, but they get in the way of both deciphering and appreciating the central message – one about powerful ideas surrounding peaceful co-existence and maybe the lengths societies must take to achieve that – and that’s a shame.
 
Those are waters that shouldn’t be muddied.
 
Fantastic Planet (1973) was produced by Argos Films, Les Films Armorial, Institut National de l’Audiovisuel (INA), and a few other participants.  (For a full list, please check IMDB.com.)  The film is presently available for streaming purchase (or physical media) from Amazon.com, HBO/Max, The Criterion Channel, and a host of other platforms.  As for the technical specifications?  I watched a recording of the film on Turner Classic Movies, and the sights and sounds were perfect from start-to-finish.  Lastly, as I watched this entirely on my own as said above, there were no special features for me to consider.  (Suffice it to say, I combed the internet for a handful of articles to learn more about the production.)
 
Recommended, but …
 
My single greatest caution before undertaking Fantastic Planet is to avoid any major research about the film before viewing it.  (A review here and there is OK, but avoid the deep dive.)  Though not a particular confusing film, it certainly gives one something to think about.  At 70 minutes, I’d still caution that the story takes a bit of time to truly get going as so much of the affair plays out a bit more like vignettes strung along for a time until the true conflict emerges.  Once it becomes clear that this is an exploration of cultures in existential conflict (of a sort), then it definitely gets better … though as I tried to be clear I’m not entirely comfortable with the presented reality as so many others were.  A bit dark here and there … and definitely not for kids.

​-- EZ

Of course, it kinda/sorta goes without saying that those of us who were there back in 1983 to experience the original theatrical run of Star Wars: Episode VI - Return Of The Jedi never gave so much as a passing thought to the fact that some day the flick would be celebrating its fortieth birthday, but alas that day has come.  On this day all the way back then, the George Lucas saga more affectionately known as the 'Original Trilogy' finally came to its end.  Luke, Han, and Leia were reunited, and the Rebellion went on the offensive for the first time, opting to take the fight directly to the Galactic Empire, and somebody thought that an allegory for the Ewoks was absolutely necessary at this stage of the game.  And, yes, there was an all-new Death Star even!  So the gang was finally all here, the stage was set, and a big finish was delivered.

I've held back for decades in actually writing my thoughts down -- in proper review fashion -- for the Original Trilogy, mostly because as everyone knows so very, very, very much as been written about these pioneering films.  Though I have promised that -- in my stewardship of SciFiHistory.Net -- I probably do owe readers my full and unblemished thoughts on each of the films, I've not done so as of yet.  Maybe I'll put that in the hopper and finally get to it this year.  As you can imagine, I try to keep my plate full, so revisiting some older classics does get second fiddle.  But I will persevere and see if I can get that done before Jedi's forty-first birthday rolls around.

Without going into any great depths on its anniversary, I will say that -- like so many films -- there were parts that I loved and parts that I thought inferior.  (I do always keep a watchful eye open, you know.)  Some of it felt inspired, and then there were a few developments that didn't quite resonate the way I think some of us -- me included -- expected; but because the sheer weight of what we liked was vastly heavier than some of Jedi's goofier ideas I think it's easy to forgive the little things that got in the way of making it a perfect adventure.  Don't think I was disappointed with it, folks: it's just that -- you know me -- some things do get in the way ... and I've always admitted in this space to never having been a fan of the so-obvious Ewoks.

Despite knowing that this was the end of that Original Trilogy, I think many of us who were serious, serious fans of the franchise from its beginning honestly thought we'd see these characters again on the silver screen.  Capitalism being what it is, I think we did suspect that 20th Century Fox would press George Lucas for more; and then maybe not right away but eventually he'd wear down and come back for perhaps not another full trilogy of Skywalker-specific stories but something reasonably compelling.  How could you not, at this point?  Of course, we were well aware that there was something in Lucas's master plan involving what became the Prequel Trilogy ... and, yet, there had to be more for Luke ... right?  For Leia?  For good ol' Han?  Chewie?  Lando?  The rest of the gang?

Ah ... it would appear -- at least in big screen form -- their time in the limelight truly ended.

Although the Sequel Trilogy resurrected the characters briefly -- only to essentially kill each of them off -- I'm not ashamed to feeling a bit robbed.  With a galaxy so vast and rich as Star Wars, I guess I was still wanting more for and from them.  Anything, really.  Even if it would've been a feature with only one or two of them.  It would've been nice to experience them more in their prime, now that the Empire would've been out of the way just a bit.  (Yes, yes, yes, I know about all of the books and comics, but -- as I said -- I live for the movies.)

Sigh.

It sucks getting old, kids.

In any event, here are a few snaps ...
​

Who knows?

At some point -- maybe even in the near future -- those enterprising creators at Lucasfilm will provide fans like me (and us) exactly what we hope for; and they'll go to the ends of the Earth to utilize the finest CGI technology to give us even grander adventures of this original crew.  I know that word on the street is that Filoni and Favreau are contemplating doing just that -- trust me, I've heard a great deal of it from following a few vlogs.  Still, I'm not as enthusiastic as younger podcasters are these days: Walt Disney is still Lucasfilm's overlord, and they're losing money hand over fist these days.  At some point, Disney+ is likely going to be either cut off from the diminishing money trough or told to cut back to greater lengths.  Then where will we be?  No one wants to watch Star Wars on a Babylon 5 budget, but that may be all we're given.

So in the meantime take a moment today to reflect on the state of Star Wars by celebrating Return Of The Jedi.  Think about what it meant to you.  Whether you were there on this day back in 1983 or you came to it on television or home video, it's a fabulous experience wherein old-fashioned good vs. evil is finally played out in this galaxy.  Anakin Skywalker found a bit of redemption.  A family was reunited.  A second Death Star was stopped in its tracks.  And Ewoks were, largely, given all the credit.
​

They say that birth, death, and taxes are the only constants, and I suppose -- from a certain standpoint -- that's very true.  While I think that life is full of many, many other pursuits -- some of which each of us hopes might be universal -- but there is no greater truth than the fact that none of us 'gets out alive,' as they say.  At least, not in the fleshly iteration ...

I'll have to chalk this one up to yet one more celebrity death I just didn't expect: word just reached my desk this morning of actor Ray Stevenson's passing.

To be fair, I'm not entirely certain Stevenson really ever took center stage in anything I can recall.  He was always a supporting player -- or, even, part of an ensemble that was made stronger by his presence -- but his was a face and an energy that I'll admit happily I always liked.  Though HBO's Rome wasn't his first work, I think it was definitely the one wherein I saw the potential of his true gifts: being physically imposing is one thing, but having the chops to truly pull of the whole gamut of emotions is another ... and Stevenson certainly could turn on the charm when he needed.

Still, 2008's Punisher: War Zone did give him top billing, at least; and -- even though I thought this particular tale in the wider Frank Castle universe was a bit middling -- I liked him in the role.  It fit him comfortably -- maybe too comfortably -- and he managed to give this Marvel antihero a bit of magic on screens big and small.  And his work in Marvel's Thor (2011) and Thor: The Dark World (2013) also gave him the chance to play a character bigger-than-life.  While he might not have had the presence of others in the picture, he definitely held his own, as they say, when the script put him to good use.

I'm also a bit puzzled: I believe I'd seen him in the forthcoming trailers for Disney+'s Ahsoka series, but a quick look at IMDB.com doesn't even mention the property.  Here's hoping that they were far enough along with his work in the streaming enterprise that they don't have to retool anything and/or everything, as I was definitely looking forward to what level of Dark Jedi menace he was bringing to the table.

Ach ... gone way too soon.

Prayers and well wishes are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Ray Stevenson.  May he forever rest in peace.

-- EZ

While his background may not draw the attention of the casual Science Fiction and Fantasy fan, those of us who enjoyed many, many wares know full well that actor Paul Winfield was no slouch.  In fact, when it came to All Things Genre, the man certainly visited some of the biggest franchises and managed to leave an incredible impact no matter the size of the role.
 
Indeed, the Gene Roddenberry property knows that fundamental fact all too well.  Trekkers, Trekkies, and general Trek enthusiasts remember the man for his incredible one-two punch: he appeared as (sigh) ill-fated ‘Captain Terrell’ who falls to no less than the machinations of Khan Noonien Singh aboard Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan (1982) only then to be cast nearly a decade later as equally ill-fated ‘Captain Dathon’ aboard the stellar Star Trek: The Next Generation episode, “Darmok.”  Let it be known that nobody but nobody commands a powerful death scene like Winfield, and Trek certainly proves the man earned a legacy in the stars.
 
Still, that wasn’t his only foray into SciFi, Fantasy, and Horror.
 
According to his profile on IMDB.com:
 

• In 1973, Winfield shared the screen with no less William Shatner himself aboard the telefilm The Horror At 37,000 Feet for CBS Television Network.
• In 1984, the actor enjoyed some newfound exposure when James Cameron brought him into the wide, wide world of The Terminator.  In the role of ‘Detective Ed Traxler,’ he was one of the only few characters to believe that there very well might be something to this whole story Sarah Connor was telling the police, though he still paid dearly in the end.
• In 1988, director Wes Craven put Winfield through his marks when the actor joined the cast of The Serpent And The Rainbow for Universal Pictures.
• In 1995, the SciFi veteran enjoyed a guest spot aboard the “GROPOS” episode of the popular Babylon 5.  Aboard the show, he played ‘General Richard Franklin,’ father to series’ regular Richard Biggs’ ‘Dr. Stephen Franklin.’
• That same year, director Peter Markle cast Winfield for the part of ‘Dr. Akada’ in the SciFi/Telefilm White Dwarf for Francis Ford Coppola’s American Zoetrope film company.
• In 1996, Winfield was part of the cast for Tim Burton’s wild and crazy alien invasion satire Mars Attacks based (very loosely) on themes from the Topps Trading Card series from 1962.

 
While there are a few other entries, I think those big ones certainly reflect the man’s abilities on camera.  He was almost always cast in the guise of some authority, and he played those moments – big and small – to perfection.

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

​-- EZ

What does Sherlock Holmes have to do with Science Fiction and Fantasy?
 
Well, nothing directly, other than perhaps being the finest working example of ‘deductive reasoning’ available to mankind.  And – now that I think of it – Star Trek: The Next Generation’s Commander Data kinda/sorta worshipped the character, and his idolatry was even featured in an episode or two of the original program.  And – now that I think even a bit further – there was a short-lived derivation of the character in animated fashion that brought him front-and-center to the future: it was called, aptly, Sherlock Holmes In The 22nd Century, and it lasted a glorious 26 puzzle-filled episodes.
 
No, what I was initially ruminating over was that Sherlock Holmes’ creator – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle – has never quite been given the measure of respect owed in genre circles … as one of his seminal properties The Lost World perhaps pioneered not only a franchise as well as an entire reasonably popular sub-genre to all of Fantasy.  And, yes, I bring this up because those of you who’ve already checked out today’s citation page for May 22nd know full well that Doyle was born on this day all the way back in the year 1859.
 
So … only the happiest of birthday wishes go out to the scholar, physician, and author.  Here’s hoping that wherever he still might exist in the wide, wide hereafter he’s reading this humble post and smiling.
 
But … back to his The Lost World, for a moment …
 
According to Wikipedia.org, The Lost World was first published in serialized format between April and November of 1912, introducing such characters to Fantasy as Professors Summerlee and Challenger, Lord John Roxton, and Edward Malone.  For those of you who haven’t read the novel, the whole affair begins with a challenge: Challenger has been to the ‘lost world’ – a place in deepest, darkest Africa where creatures of the Prehistoric Era still exist – but is being scoffed at by his fellow academics who insist any such place is possible.  Never one to be laughed at, Challenger puts his money where his mouth is, offering to lead an expedition – along with a few of his significant naysayers – to show them his proof.  The trip not only confirms the place’s existence, but the group brings back evidence (a Pterodactyl and some diamonds) that makes them heroes and extremely wealthy men, at that.
 
As an inspiration, The Lost World has enjoyed a few significant film adaptations, along with further direct-to-video interpretations and even a few television series to boot.  The book’s Wikipedia.org page also denotes that there have been several radio (drama) adaptations that have explored and expanded on events Doyle originally imagined over a century ago, proving that good stories never go out of style.  For what it’s worth, the Australia-produced The Lost World television series (which lasted three seasons) has been dismissed as being a somewhat campy rendering, but taken in the spirit of putting a serialized action drama through its proper paces for TV audiences I think it’s still an interesting diversion.
 
Though he’s no longer with us – having passed away on July 7, 1930, from an apparent heart attack – Doyle’s work continues to inspire creators and audiences around the world.  I’d venture to guess that’s he’s far more well known for the escapades of his singularly intelligent detective, and there’s nothing wrong with that.  Being one to champion All Things Genre, I thought I’d pen a quick reflection to remind readers that we owe him as much a debt as does all of literature for dabbling in our realm in such a huge, huge way.

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

​-- EZ

Important SciFiHistory.Net Links:

A Review Of 1925's The Lost World