I don't often get the chance to do this, folks, but as I'm forever thankful for small favors I'm doing it today: the good people at The Film Detective released a Special Edition of 1957's SciFi/Fantasy film The Brain From Planet Arous ... and I got the chance to re-heat an older review of mine -- alongside a look into the disc's special features -- and I had a helluva lot of fun doing it.

Those who read here often know of my fondness for these older gems.  Yes, I may not grade this Brain as highly as others do -- nor do I perhaps refer to it as reverentially as some -- but I'd never argue against seeing it.  As 1950's flicks go, there's a lot in here to laugh at, and perhaps there's even as much to give a bit of respect to: many of the tropes established for SciFi shlock were on full display here, and -- think what you may about the finished product -- director Nathan Juran put everything and everyone through the proper pacing, delivering a 70-minute opus (of a sort) that holds up quite well ... or well enough to finally get a Special Edition release ... that's for certain!

Anyway ...

After getting a chance to take in another viewing of the Brain and its special features, I thought it appropriate to repost my review from only a few months back wherein it was part-and-parcel of the  Drive-In Retro Classics series (Science Fiction Triple Feature).  Re-reading it now, perhaps I was a bit harsh on all involved.  Don't get me wrong -- I stand by what I said: it's just that the Special Edition experience was a bit warmer and definitely provided a lot more meat to digest in the process, helping me to more greatly understand why so many consider the picture as memorable as they do.  And I will post some thoughts on those special features below ... but, in the meantime, here you go ... buckle up, friends ...

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​(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 product packaging:
“An alien life-form arrives on Earth and crash lands in the California desert and takes refuge on Mystery Mountain.  Renowned nuclear scientist Steve March, who works nearby, notices a strange proliferation of radiation coming from the mountains and decides to investigate.  Little does he know the creature is a terrifying life-form from planet Arous determined to take over the Earth using subversive mind-control and has deliberately chosen Steve as its host!”
 
Huh.
 
Occasionally, I stumble across a film that – upon viewing – honestly leaves me with very little to say about it.  Of course, I give it the ol’ sailor’s try – I mull it over, try to put the story into some context – and still, in the end, I’m left with very little substance on the topic.  It’s rare, yes, but it does happen … and that’s the case with The Brain From Planet Arous (1957) from Marquette Productions, Ltd.  A quick review of their IMDB.com profile shows that they only produced a scant three films – all in 1957 – and not a one of them truly made any lasting impact … well, except for inventing the old SciFi trope of giant floating space brains, that is, which I’m guessing might be directly traced back to this very picture.
 
So if that’s one’s heritage, is it a bad thing?  I don't think so ...
 
Because I always assume these older pictures were intended by storytellers to be taken seriously, I find it difficult to reconcile some of this Brain’s thinking.

​For example, Steve March (played with some surprising though campy conviction by John Agar) is introduced as one of the country’s premiere nuclear scientists, and yet the first thing he wants to do when he detects incredible waves of radiation coming from a nearby mountain is to run out there – with absolutely zero safety gear! – to investigate?  Not only that, but he wants to drag his best buddy Dan Murphy (Robert Fuller) along for the ride?  Erm ... have these two never heard about exposure?  If that doesn’t give you pause, then how about once they begin receiving radiation readings higher than ever before on their Geiger counter, their first impulse is to run toward it?

Run toward that dangerous, deadly radiation?

​Really?
​

It’s almost as if screenwriter Ray Buffum put absolutely no thought into the subject because what truly mattered here were the giant floating alien space brains; perhaps he concluded well in advance that if the audience will accept those then why bother with a little deadly exposure?

This affair was all set in the elusive Mystery Mountains – apparently near White Sands Proving Grounds in New Mexico – but as the film unspools we find that everyone and their mother’s uncle seems to know Mystery Mountains peaks and valleys intimately as no one has any trouble noticing the newly-formed cavern that – gasp! – wasn’t there last summer.  It would seem that this distant and hard-to-find place may not have been as distant nor as hard-to-find as written.
 
Still, because the flick was produced in a different time and a different era, I rarely raise any quibbles with the portrayed social norms that might be a tad out-of-step with contemporary audiences.  Certainly, we’ve evolved as a species, but men and women treated one another differently and behaved to different standards in the 1950’s; and these throwbacks are clearly a bit clunky seven (or so) decades later.  But Gor (the villainous alien brain) behaves in an uncharacteristically amorous way (think "severely horny") when finally given access to some ‘sins of the flesh.'  While inhabiting March’s body, Gor gets awfully close to violating those prime and proper Hollywood standards of the day.  (He's a leech!  He damn near tears the lady's dress off!)

​Suffice it to say, Sally (Joyce Meadows) needed the luxury of a ‘safe space’ if ever a woman did!
 
Nathan Juran directed this curious space-aged potboiler, and it’s a name I’ve definitely heard before.  A quick read of his IMDB.com profile shows that he definitely had a track record in genre, though this was one of his earlier pictures.  The same year he brought the fondly remembered 20,000 Million Miles To Earth to the silver screen, he also directed this … so I’m guessing that other property occupied the lion’s share of the man’s attentive prowess.  He’d go one to direct episodes of World Of Giants, Men Into Space, Voyage To The Bottom Of The Sea, The Time Tunnel, Lost In Space, and Land Of The Giants, a solid track record with SciFi and Fantasy’s a bit campier delights.
 
Otherwise … I’m still left with not much to make of the obviously dated effort.  It’s hard to take much of it seriously, but I’d be a fool if I failed to point out that Agar’s work here is surprisingly good.  He vacillates between good and evil with relative ease; and his handling of the mild-mannered scientist to the sex-crazed alien-infected potential overlord seethes enough menace to give just the right edge of a fellow in conflict.  Heck, he even ends up saving the day – well, with more than a little help from his gal pal – even when Vol (the good guy floating alien space brain) promised he’d do the deed when the time came.
 
Score one for the Earthling, peeps.

The Brain From Planet Arous (1957) was produced by Marquette Productions Ltd.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the folks at The Film Detective.  As for the technical specifications?  Again, I'm no tech junkie, but the film looks and sounds fabulous here.  There are a few minor cuts wherein I'm suspecting a second or two of the original source material may have some minor flaw (and was excised), but they are small distractions on the whole.  Also, I found it a big plus that this particular release offers the viewer to watch in either widescreen (1:85:1) or full frame (1:33:1) ratios.  Very, very nice.

As for the special features?

The collection from The Film Detective is quite good.
​

• First up, there's a roughly 11-minute introduction to the film -- as well as a few behind-the-scene tidbits -- from star Joyce Meadows.  For the uninformed, this lovely lady plays 'Sally Fallon' in the picture, and she's remarkably wry and witty despite her age.
• Second, there's a full commentary track that offers observations by historians Tom Weaver, David Schecter, Larry Blamire, and actress Joyce Meadows.  In fairness, it isn't always lively -- for example, there's a rather protracted examination of the film's music cues.  (Yes, it's nice, but it's also a bit dry.)  Some of the nuggets are reproductions of recorded interviews with the cast and crew, and all of it definitely shows that the historians have gone to great lengths to preserve stories about making the flick as well as a few surprises about how revered it remains amongst some audiences today.  It's a great experience.
• Lastly, the disc offers up a pair of short (10 minutes each) documentaries on director Nathan Juran's life and body of work.  It's curious to have not one but two of them -- both cover similar factoids and summaries -- and I'm not entirely certain why anyone involved felt both were necessary.  Again, don't get me wrong -- I watched them both, and they're both of value -- it's just that they're so closely related I only bring it up as a question.
• But just when you thought that was all there was, the folks at The Film Detective did you one better: the packaging includes a small collector's booklet with an essay (also on the life and career of Juran) penned by historian Tom Weaver.  After reading it, I'm not convinced I learned any new information -- not beyond what's covered on the commentary and both documentaries -- but it's a quick read that is nice to have in summation.

​A fabulous, fabulous collection ... which makes this purchase 'Highly Recommended' for genre fans and junkies of 1950's era Science Fiction.

In the interests of fairness, I'm pleased to disclose that the fine folks at The Film Detective provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Brain From Planet Arous (1957) 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

​For what it’s worth, this whole single season affair with fallen Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi really had some dubious first episodes.
 
I don’t say this to nitpick any individual effort.  Nor am I trying to be outright negative about the show’s early prospects.  It’s just that when it all began dear ol’ Ben was in, understandably, a very dark place; and the set-up of these new players – a necessary step to launch this narrative into action – was handled perhaps a bit too predictably and clunkily.  Characters were so much established as they were introduced; some of this is owed to the evolution of their various arcs over the six episodes, but I said back then – and I re-affirm it today – that showrunners Kathleen Kennedy, Michelle Rejwan, Deborah Chow, and a host of others likely did themselves no favors in the first episode or two.  They were slim on action, light on premise, and poorly paced.  (I said what I said; and no, I’m not sorry.)
 
Thankfully, the pacing picked up a bit in Episode 2 as the script finally gave Kenobi something to do other than waste away in depression under Tatooine’s twin suns.  The development of an actual story didn’t quite smooth out that rug of poorly introduced characters, but if everyone is being kept busy then the flaws aren’t as apparent and objectionable, though much of fandom did cry out in unison … only to be suddenly silenced.  (Get it?)
 
Honestly, I never considered myself as one who protested this story being told much less plausible within Star Wars’ established canon.  So far as I thought, there was enough wiggle room that a follow-up confrontation between the master and his one-time apprentice (Darth Vader, formerly Anakin Skywalker) was viable … but was it necessary?  Well, we wouldn’t know that until all was said and done – meaning the entire story was available for review – and I’m glad to say that – so far as this longtime Star Wars fan is concerned – the Force was definitely strong by the big finish.
 
Episode 6 opened with Kenobi on the run with what seemed to be refugees fleeing the Galactic Empire (was that ever actually fully explained?), only for the former general to realize that his presence alone was the source of all that presently ailed these people.  Realizing were he to flee on his own that Vader would order his Star Destroyer to follow, Ben took an available fighter craft and sped away.  Sure enough, the Dark Lord of the Sith followed, setting the stage for – at least – another monumental showdown between these two men who spent a good portion of the lives as best friends.
 
The hour also developed a curious second plotline that screenwriters crafted to run concurrent with the main one: Reva – now fallen from Imperial grace and maybe even near-mortally wounded – travels to Tatooine with the intention of taking out her revenge by killing Anakin’s other child, young Luke Skywalker.  Word of her arrival and intentions gets to Owen and Beru Lars – Luke’s aunt and uncle and adoptive parents – and the moisture farmers take matters of security into their own hands, preparing to face off against the former Grand Inquisitor should it come to that.
​

Well, it did come to that.
 
In a stroke of genius, director Chow cut back-and-forth between these two critical matchups.  Initially, Kenobi appears to have been bested by his former pupil, and ultimately what good could, would, and should a pair of farmers be against a vengeful Force user?  But as most fairy tales do inevitably reach that silver lining, Kenobi gets his groove back, chases down an unsuspecting Vader, and – quite literally – drops the house on him.  (Well, a helluva lot of stones, anyway.)  In contrast, Reva takes a fateful approach to slashing the fallen and unconscious child into fleshy bits only to realize that, no, she’s not as evil as Anakin once was – if you recall, she watched that possessed padawan strike down her fellow younglings on Coruscant.  Instead, she returns the boy to the Lars – now joined by Kenobi (a bit rather quickly and conveniently, if you ask me) – and renounces her role in villainy.
 
It was a splendid finale to a show that occasionally worked a bit too often in shorthand, never quite spelling out what was always on tap or exactly why it was even necessary.  I give it props for not trying to be more than what it was – a delirious rematch between that galaxy’s ultimate forces for good and evil – though we did meet a couple welcome distractions along the way.
 
After fumbling the set-up (owed to some bad writing more than anything else), Moses Ingram shone in the role of Reva: while it’s arguably more fun to play the villain (or so I’ve heard), she handled her character’s redemption with some depth and great emotion, perhaps even clearing the way to reappear in the Star Wars universe at some point down the line.  (There have been hints online that Lucasfilm wants her to have her own show; that might be a bit much too soon, but stranger things …)  O’Shea Jackson Jr. turned in a fabulous performance as Roken, a kinda/sorta Rebel leader-in-the-wings more interested in maintaining the sector’s ‘underground railroad’ than he is with profiting off the business.  Kumail Nanjiani dabbled on-the-edge of what was good and proper by bilking refugees out of their savings in exchange for securing their transit; but even he managed to find himself more useful as an agent of law and order before the finish.  Indira Varma?  Ah, it broke my heart when Tala sacrificed herself to give the fleeing rebels a chance to get away; her fallen Imperial officer who chose to betray the oath of office was a fan favorite … so if the presumed dead Cassian Andor can get a show, how about Tala get one, too?
 
All of this brings me to youngest among us: actress Vivien Lyra Blair was a bright spot with damn near everything they asked of her.  Her moments of sass may’ve been a bit too much right out of the gate, but the scripts (thankfully) got better and better as the show went on.  By the big finish, she’s the star with the big heart who deserves a follow-up here.  She succeeded in delivering a version of Leia Organa that was both derivative of what Carrie Fisher began as well as fresh as the morning dew; why not reward her with a little something something we could call ‘The Princess Leia Diaries?’  It could be fun to watch that future mover and shaker within the Rebel Alliance truly come into her own.

​-- EZ

I don't know about you, but I always get a little thrill when I learn a little something something about some obscure release that I've likely known only minor details about ... and I think it's nothing short of grand that some video outlets and distributors work very hard to shine a light on these uncelebrated gems.  Granted, not all of them have a lot to offer culturally or artistically, and still I don't believe any flick deserves to be fully lost to history: put it back out there -- even in some small way -- and let the audience decide for itself if the original effort was worthy.

That's why I'll champion the folks at Arrow Video when I can.  They'll come across this older, forgotten title and give it a breath of fresh air.  They aren't all that detracted by the blemishes of these smaller flicks; in fact, they find a good reason to celebrate when they can, and the company has introduced (and re-introduced) me to a handful of quality B-movies.  Hats off to a job well done.

I've received some promotional information regarding their July slate of home video releases, so I'll be putting up some minor blurbs here and there across the MainPage today and beyond.  If I'm fortunate enough to secure any of these sets I'm always thrilled to provide vastly greater coverage, such as reviews and whatnot.

The first up in their rotation: Hell High (1989).

It's a curious picture, one I've only sparingly come across in my reading.  By all accounts, it's a slasher movie, and I don't give them a lot of coverage much less notice in my entertainment diet.  From what I've read, the film was actually shot and released earlier -- IMDB.com reports a German video release in 1987, and there are even indications that it may've screened early (in 1986) under the name Raging Fury.  It looks like it hit U.S. screens in '89, and yet alas there's no box office information available under its name on the Box Office Mojo website.

Here's the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:

"A teacher still haunted by the death of two teens that she accidentally caused as a young girl goes beserk when four teens start harassing her and then attack her in her home."

IMDB.com reports the picture was directed by Douglas Grossman who is also credited on the script along with Leo Evans.  Grossman's career consists of a mere two entries (gasp), one of which includes the crafting the story for the 1984 screen comedy Up The Creek, a somewhat bawdy college-set comedy about a perennial loser putting together a team to win a rafting contest.  (I have a vague recollection of seeing previews, but this wouldn't have caught my attention on the silver screen.)  Hell High is co-scripter Evans sole contributed to filmdom (double gasp!).

​As is my custom, I'll copy and paste Arrow Video's press materials below.  It looks like this one is hitting the shelves on July 19th.

Amazon: link for purchase

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

-- EZ
​

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:
New from Arrow Video US

Hell High
[Blu-ray]
(7/19)
​

Arrow's July releases feature an overlooked slasher, a supernatural thriller, sci-fi, and a box set of Italian murder mysteries, starting with the July 19 release of director Douglas Grossman's Hell High - a unique psychological thriller/slasher from 1989.

When high school football hero Jon-Jon (Breaking Bad's Christopher Cousins) quits the team, he winds up falling in with a group of outcasts led by the sadistic Dickens (played to unhinged perfection by the late Christopher Stryker).

Hell High - released in some international territories as Raging Fury - was heavily overlooked upon its original release but has since developed a cult following noted for its intelligent script, dark narrative, and unique spin on the typical slasher film formula. Brett Gallman of Oh, the Horror! described the film as "a weird, gangly, messy perversion of '80s slashers." Popular genre critic Outlaw Vern attributed much of the film's charm to "weird little touches" that can't quite be explained but should absolutely be experienced. 
​​

Bonus Materials

• Brand new 2K restoration from the original camera negative approved by cinematographer Steven Fierberg
• High Definition Blu-ray (1080p) presentation
• Original uncompressed stereo audio
• Optional English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing
• Brand new audio commentary with director/producer/co-writer Douglas Grossman and cinematographer Steven Fierberg
• Archival audio commentary with director/producer/co-writer Douglas Grossman
• Archival introduction and audio commentary with film critic Joe Bob Briggs
• School’s Out! – a newly-filmed interview with director/producer/co-writer Douglas Grossman
• A Beautiful Nightmare – a newly-filmed interview with cinematographer Steven Fierberg
• Jon-Jon’s Journey – a newly-filmed interview with actor Christopher Cousins
• The More the Better – a newly-filmed interview with actress Maureen Mooney
• Music is Not Sound – a newly-filmed interview with composers Rich Macar and Christopher Hyams-Hart
• Back to Schools: The Locations of Hell High – a tour of the original Hell High filming sites with author/filmmaker Michael Gingold
• Archival video interviews with director/producer/co-writer Douglas Grossman and co-writer Leo Evans
• Deleted Scene
• Alternate Opening Titles
• Trailers and TV Spots
• Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly-commissioned artwork by Ralf Krause
• FIRST PRESSING ONLY: Illustrated collector’s booklet featuring liner notes by Michael Gingold, including an exclusive interview with stunt coordinator/actor Webster Whinery

​

2022's Dual was one of those releases that came and went fairly quickly from theaters when it was launched in the early part of the year.  As can happen to films that fall into that seminal cinema period after the holidays yet before the big summer flicks, I don't think audiences really knew what to make of it.  The premise -- a terminally-ill woman comes to grips over what to do with her clone once her fatal diagnosis goes away -- probably seemed a bit too meaty for folks looking at an escape from their daily responsibilities; and it, alas, vanished almost as quick as it arrived.

Well, lo and behold, I just received notice today that RLJE Entertainment has optioned the picture for home video release this upcoming July, so I'd imagine that fans of actress Karen Gillan (formerly of Doctor Who) might be more than interested in checking out her work in not one but two roles in the feature.  (In case you missed it, she plays the terminally-ill woman and her own clone -- nepotism, if you ask me!)  I'll be copying and pasting the particular below for those inclined to put in their orders via the major retailers in the near future.

The film performed better-than-average with audiences and critics (it would seem) as IMDB.com posts a collective rating rating of 5.8 (on the 10.0 scale).  Attendees of 2022's Sundance Film Festival gave the picture a nomination for the Grand Jury Prize; though I've been no huge supporter of much of what comes out of Sundance, I'm not all that aware of any smaller SciFi pics that have screened at their venue and been given such praise, so this one might well be worth a look.

-- EZ
​

Hello, God?  Are you there?  It’s me.  E. Lee Zimmerman.  The guy who writes about film.  I’ve seen another one, and I don’t quite know what to make of this one.
 
I’m sorry.  That’s not true.  Actually, God, I do know what to make of it.  I knew the minute it started … or, well, only a few minutes thereafter.  It might disturb you – oh wise one – but despite my best interests and probably yours, too, I liked this one.  No, no, no.  I didn’t love it.  Don’t banish me to the Underworld for that.  You’re not doing that any longer, are you?  Banishing us to the Underworld?  For something as benign as liking a film?  Jeepers, if so, then I guess I’m going where it’s hot.  I’m in Arizona, after all, so I guess I’m used to it.
 
Anyway, that’s really all I wanted to say at this point.  I’ll have more to say – not so much to you as to my readers – after the usual disclaimer.
 
Peace out, God.  Lemmeknow what you thought of this one … if we’re still speaking.
 
(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 on 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 product packaging:
“Out-of-work actor Eddy Pine stumbles upon the key to the universe and is drawn into an intergalactic conflict between killer clowns and sneaky green aliens.  Now the fate of the planet hangs on his shoulders …”
​
I have never been in the business of recommending comedies to those who follow my stuff.  That isn’t because I don’t like them; it’s because that it’s been my experience over the years that what I find funny many don’t agree.  Consequently, I do tend to avoid them … not “at all costs” but as a general practice.
​

But, as of late, sheer unbridled lunacy has made a reasonably big comeback with smaller films that tend to hit the video shelves as opposed to the multiplexes.  And they’ve staged their return to prominence – believe it or not – in the realm of the great genre pictures.  Why, it wasn’t just last year that I was singing the praises of Psycho Goreman (2020), a mind-bending genre comedy about a sassy young girl discovering that magical gem she found in her backyard is the key to controlling the galaxy’s most vile and despicable monstrous overlord.  And – heck – it was only a few weeks back that I gave an enthusiastic thumbs up to Ninja Badass (2020), the tale of a small-town mullet-wearing misfit who unlocks the skills of the magical, mystical ninja that are wrapped up in the eating of egg rolls.
 
Now I have to admit I had some fun watching Aliens, Clowns & Geeks?
 
Sigh.  What’s a reputable critic to do?
 
In all fairness, Aliens – perhaps a bit more than the other two films mentioned – truly falls into the realm of the bizarre cult followers.  Though it has a relatively traditional storytelling structure (i.e. boy meets girls, boy births celestial object from his anus, dueling enemy civilizations descend on Earth, George Wendt cameos, hilarity ensues, etc. … we all know the formula), it still blends in some of the screen’s more surreal captures in equally logically and bawdy ways.  It shouldn’t make narrative sense, but it does … and that’s likely because all of this sprang from the mind of auteur Richard Elfman.  His film Forbidden Zone (1980) has a curious place in art history in that (from what I’ve read) it’s kinda/sorta considered the ‘Citizen Kane’ of cult films.  Far be it from me to quibble with history, but I’m far more inclined to agree with those who suggest Zone – definitely an acquired taste – more accurately launched the modern era of cult films … yet I’d rather stay out of the weeds on that topic.  Weeds make me itch.
 
Aliens – by contrast – is far more relatable to this watcher, and that’s probably because this live-action cartoon flips and flops about with understandable comic progression: isn’t it perfectly natural once you’re hunted down by a murderous clown that you’d want to get rid of the thing that brought the face-painted man to your doorstep to begin with?  I know I would, and Elfman’s story moves craftily from there into yet another layer of dementia – it’s not just one clown but an entire civilization of evil clowns, and their blood lust won’t be satiated until they’ve wiped the Earthlings as well as a competing alien species off the galactic map.
 
As one might expect, Aliens is loaded with a plethora of familiar and unfamiliar comic faces.  Besides the aforementioned Wendt, the always hilarious French Stewart tries to steal every scene he’s in as the German-sounding ‘Professor von Scheisenberg’ attempts to assist Eddy Pine (Bodhi Elfman) in his attempts to both dispose of such life-changing power as well as profit from having had it.  Funnyman Steve Agee turns up in a few small roles, but his comic timing is put to best use as the gigantic chicken-suited comedy-team-partner to the diminutive Nic Novicki, a clown so sad he tries to extort payment for their failing comedy routine from the church pastor.  But the biggest surprise came from the ladies as relative newcomers Rebecca Forsythe and Angeline-Rose Troy both kick butt, take names, and turn heads as dueling sisters ‘Helga and Inga Svenson,’ the hottest looking pair of budding astrophysicists this side of Pamela Anderson.  (She was an astrophysicist, wasn’t she?  If not, why did I see stars when she was around?)
​

Again, Aliens is a silver screen cartoon.  You aren’t to take any of this seriously.  Some might dub it ‘shlock,’ but it’s exceeding well-made shlock, the kind which always – despite the cultural interests of some – always finds an audience.  This one will.  It might take time.  It might take a few years.  But it’ll catch on with those who were meant to find it.  It’s a wacky journey that largely works because Bohdi’s central performance is both relatable and manic.  He’s in a race against time to save the universe and make a buck … if only he can keep his mother from sleeping with another alien in order to raise rent money.
 
Aliens, Clowns & Geeks (2019) was produced by Elfmaniac Media, New Island Associates, Salem Street Entertainment, UnLTD Productions, and Unfound Content.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated via MVD Visual.  As for the technical specifications?  Again, it might be ‘shlock,’ but it’s definitely very well-made shlock as the sight and sounds are exactly what one expects from such craziness.  As for the special features?  The Blu-ray offers up a 30-minute series of interviews with the cast and crew, a brief session with Elfman, a related music video, and the original theatrical trailer.  It’s a nice collection, though I was looking for a bit more reflection on the process of putting something this zany together for digestion.  It is what it is.
 
Recommended.
 
As I’ve often said, Science Fiction and Comedy are difficult enough to do (and do well) on their own, so I’ve got nothing but deep and learned respect for folks who knowingly, willingly, and deliberately mix them into their own nefarious concoction as I’d never attempt it.  Despite its ten layers of sheer lunacy, Aliens, Clowns & Geeks has a central story and structure that delivers the comic goods in perhaps the most absurd, most childish (in a good manner), and most surreal way possible.  Be forewarned: the flick’s obvious cult sensibilities are not going to be for everyone … but for those of us who can turn off the brain and enjoy a bit of the outlandish from time-to-time?  It’s probably exactly what the good doctor would prescribe.  Imperfect.  Occasionally raunchy.  Occasionally VERY raunchy.  Yet never imperfect.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at MVD Visual provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Aliens, Clowns & Geeks (2019) 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 said before, I’m quite smitten with the world of noir, loving it for a whole lot of reasons but one in particular that I often share: noir is a black-and-white existence populated with broken people who make up ‘monsters of a sort,’ which is why I occasionally cover them in this space when I get the inkling. Such is the case today as I was provided a pretty interesting Blu-ray two-fer: 1947’s The Guilty and 1947’s High Tide appear as part of a dual-format edition from Flicker Alley.  I’ve had the time to take in The Guilty this morning, and I wanted to pen some thoughts for interested readers.
 
(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 film’s IMDB.com citation:
“Two guys, sharing an apartment, meet twin girls.  One’s sweet, the other a major piece of bad news.  The nice one is murdered, and her boyfriend is accused on the crime.  The wrong man-wrong victim plot strikes again.”
 
Though that synopsis kinda/sorta hints at who the guilty culprit may or may not be – along with a tease as to what may or may not have truly gone down in this set of circumstances – I promise not to spoil the brew, one of my longtime commitments to saving the best for you folks to discover when you take in a particular viewing.  Though The Guilty fits the textbook definition for what one expects from a vintage crime thriller, I thought it fell just a bit short of even a passably memorable noir.
 
Why do I think it fell short?
 
Well, that’s a complicated answer, one that strays very close to spoiling perhaps what makes The Guilty a unique viewing experience.  It isn’t all that uncommon for one of the characters to provide a background narration to a noir tale; that technique has long fueled the best crime procedurals if not all of the standard private eye stories for a generation of black-and-white pictures.  The notable difference between those films and The Guilty lies in the fact that this time – ahem – we may or may not be benefitting from how the narrator spins the yarn, and I’ve seen vastly greater balanced handled far better in later outings as well as other flicks of the noir era.  (Again, I’m trying to avoid divulging anything that strays a bit too close to spoilers, and this one is a hard sell.)
 
Those shortcomings aside, much of The Guilty takes places in a handful of sets, all of which lack any real definition or distinction to make them all that remarkable.  Clearly, the characters were meant to remain central to this particular mystery, so I can understand (to a degree) why so little effort and expense may have been put forth to give these locales a life of their own.  Still, I don’t think any producer or director – especially from the bygone era of film – did themselves any favors by shooting films on such lackluster settings.  The only scenes that breath a bit of life are the exteriors, but they’re very slim in this tidy 71-minute thriller so take heart when you can.
​

Still, I’d be remiss if I failed to point out that The Guilty does have a bit of uncharacteristic grimness as it applies to its handling of the murder.  The discussed details of the body – as well as a rare and welcome visit inside a 40’s era screen morgue – do elevate the picture beyond much of its routine.  You might just grimace yourself when you hear how the late Miss Mitchell became the late Miss Mitchell … and that’s an exceedingly uncommon occurrence for old films so far as this viewer is concerned.  I actually ‘backed up the tape’ to hear it again.  It’s a heart-stopper.
 
Performances are good, nothing all that chilling or thrilling.  Bonita Granville plays the twin sisters, and she manages to give each lovely lady a bit of character all of her own.  Don Castle fills the leading man shoes, and he chews a bit of scenery as he relishes both the ‘good guy’ and ‘bad guy’ elements that make up noir’s leading men.  Wally Cassell snivels a little too much as the ‘man on the run’ who seems to be concealing more than an innocent man would.  And John Litel gives a curious performance as a live-in family friend who wants a bit more than the usual room and board from the lovely sisters.
 
Again, The Guilty may not have quite rung the right notes with me, but I can still appreciate where it achieved something special.  Perhaps a tighter script – one that didn’t rely on the bookended narration so much – would’ve felt more organic and not so much like a screenwriter’s creations … but – at the end of the day – those victims ain’t gonna kill themselves, you know what I mean?
 
The Guilty (1947) was produced by Monogram Pictures.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable Flicker Alley.  As for the technical specifications?  The packaging materials state that the film was restored from a 35mm nitrate composite fine-grain master; and – yes – this looks and sounds exceptionally well given the flick’s age.  As for the special features?  The Guity is only one film in a two-film package from Flicker Alley, so some of the listed items below might pertain more to the second picture as opposed to this one, but here’s what this dual-disc set includes:

• Introduction to The Guilty and High Tide by noted author and historian Eddie Muller.
• A documentary exploring the works of producer/director Jack Wrather.
• A documentary exploring the life and works of author Cornell Woolrich.
• A documentary exploring the life and works of director, writer, and producer John Reinhardt.
• A featurette exploring the career of actor Lee Tracy.
• A commentary track for The Guilty conducted by author and scholar Jake Hinkson.
• A commentary track for High Tide conducted by film historian Alan K. Rode.
• Lastly, a collector’s booklet with poster, artwork, stills, and a related essay.

 
Mildly recommended.  As noirs go, this certainly doesn’t rank up there with any of my personal favorites, but I’d agree that director Reinhardt and the cast and crew accomplish a good look to what clearly had to be a fairly low-budget production.  My central issue with all of it relates to the how the story unfolds in the narrative, all of it requiring a kinda/sorta gotcha finale that doesn’t quite add up logically except for the fact that we were all misled … but such a thing happens all too often in the dark alleys lining cinema’s underbelly, don’t they?
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Flicker Alley provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Guilty 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

Well, well, well ... it isn't every day of the week that I get to wake up realizing that there's yet one more genre film out there that I'd never even heard of, peeps, so let's thank your lucky stars I got up today and decided to blog ...

The word on the street is that the folks at Blue Underground are delivering an Ultra HD 4K restoration to Larry Cohen mid-1970's SciFi/Horror God Told Me To this July 19th to interest parties in the consumer marketplace.  Given that it's Cohen, I am a bit surprised I hadn't heard about this one -- I've covered a good handful of his properties within SciFiHistory.Net's corresponding citation pages -- and I've reached out to the good people at Blue to see if I might be able to get my hands on a copy for review purposes.  Keep your eyes peeled on this space, and I'll bring you up to speed should I get to screen this one as it looks mighty, mighty interesting.

I'll be doing the usual copying and pasting of the information I've received via the company's press release below.  I'll also post the Amazon.com link right here if you're interested in zipping over that way and setting the package into your pre-order status.

As always, thanks for reading ... and you know the rest ...

-- EZ
​

​I’ve mentioned before (in this space) of my enduring fondness for all things involving High Strangeness.
 
Unlike others, I don’t feel any compunction to debate their authenticity because my capacity for appreciating things that go bump in the night isn’t limited to whether or not I can prove what made said ‘bump.’  In some ways, I find exploring generally weird phenomena like watching a movie: I never quite see where it comes from, so I can sit back and enjoy the ride while it all unspools.  UFOs are real – they’re captured on radar every day – and it’s only their explanation that changes; sometimes, this is because we learn more about the circumstances that led up to their discovery, while other times they end up being classified as legitimately ‘unknown.’
 
Over the years, there have been a few good docudramas that have explored matters of the occult, the supernatural, and the paranormal.  1993’s award-nominated Fire In The Sky (Paramount Pictures) peeled back layer after layer of the story of alleged UFO abductee Travis Walton, an Arizona logger who disappeared for five days only to return under curious circumstances.  The 1994 telefilm Roswell (Viacom, Citadel Entertainment) provided a very sound exploration of the people, places, and possibilities attached to the most famous UFO ‘fish story’ in human history; despite the U.S. government’s repeated denials of recovering a downed flying saucer, even the details in this motion picture suggest Washington DC isn’t telling what they truly know.  And 1989’s Communion (Allied Vision) told the story of Whitley Strieber, a man who discovered under hypnosis that he may have established contact with an alien species.  Strieber has built his own media empire around his experience and even continues to explore related matters in his own research.
 
Though I’d heard plenty about the telefilm The UFO Incident (1975) over the years, I’d never seen it … until now.  For the uninformed, it’s an adaptation of the book The Interrupted Journey (by John G. Fuller) that tells the story of Barney and Betty Hill, a married couple who claim to have been abducted late in 1961.  Like the Roswell story, the Hill’s account has been long considered ‘the Holy Grail’ of abduction stories, and I’m glad to finally confirm that it was given such a thoughtful and intelligent portrayal as it gets in the picture.  This one is – most definitely – a must-see for fans of such fare, and the performances by its stars even suggest it might be enjoyed by an even wider audience.
 
Yes, it’s that good.
 
(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 film’s IMDB.com citation:
“Through memory flashbacks accessed by hypnotic regression, [the film] depicts the alleged UFO abduction of Betty and Barney Hill on September 19, 1961 in the White Mountains of New Hampshire.  Upon returning from a trip into Canada, Betty (a social services worker in Portsmouth, New Hampshire) and Barney (a postal employee in Boston) are plagued by crippling anxiety and nightmarish visions.  Turning to Dr. Benjamin Simon for help in piecing together the happenings of that night, the Hills enter into therapy and independently relate a most unearthly tale.”
 
I’ve never been a big fan of the traditional docudrama for one very simple reason: as one who watches a lot of film and follows a bit of history, I’ve seen far too many times where events have been altered on film in order to make a story more compelling for the audience.  When it comes to capturing history, that’s a huge no-no in my book.  If storytellers want to draw on historical events as inspiration, then why not simply pluck whatever happenings are desired and craft it all together in such a way as to tell a fresh yarn of fiction?  Why deliberately distort truth in favor of unintentionally misinforming the audience?  Because it’s more persuasive?  Facts matter, and the truth should be powerful enough.
 
I think it’s safe to suggest that director Richard A. Colla approached UFO from a position with greater nuance; his film retains a humanity unlike very few others I’ve had the good fortune to enjoy.  Clearly, he wanted these two people grounded in a layer of the ordinary – alongside the more documentarian-style approach to their extraordinary recounting of the abduction, he treats the audience to moments that are plucked from anyone’s life.  Barney and Betty talk about their day.  They talk about their relationship.  They talk about their love for one another.  They share their hopes, their dreams, and their fears.  Colla establishes a foundation around these two characters first and only then draws back the curtain on their encounter with the unexplained.
 
By approaching the material this way, Colla practically debunks the potential debunkers: he delivers the Hills as commonplace regulars – the kind who likely live right next door to you and I – and strips away any pretense of this couple sensationalizing the events they relive in therapy.  Think what you may about High Strangeness, but Colla’s interpretation – and that of his screenwriters Hesper Anderson and S. Lee Pogostin – is that the Hills are victims – not extorters in any way possible.  It’s this freshness to examine the downright surreal that’s rare when Hollywood comes a-callin’ on the supernatural.  Nothing here gets the glamor shot.  Nothing requires any hyperbole.  It’s a bare bones retelling – accompanied by scenes that examine a true, loving companionship – and that speaks volumes.
 
As for the performers, James Earl Jones is fabulous in the role of Barney Hill; he exudes both a confidence about who the man was as well as the complex emotional core of a black man at a time when history wasn’t exactly on his side.  In contrast, Estelle Parsons fulfills the role of both a dutiful life partner as well as distinguishing what a strong woman Betty Hill was beyond her contemporaries.  As a couple, these two certainly broke the mold in ways occasionally frowned upon in their era, but these performances elevate the people beyond what’s been written about in books and in scripts.  They’re feel true, and that speaks to the strength of the project as well as to the credibility behind the Hills: you can’t imagine them making any of this up as a ruse.  As in life and on life, they just don’t seem the type.
​

As does happen in stories involving fringe events, Colla’s film never pronounces judgment.  Even the story’s central observer – Barnard Hughes plays Dr. Benjamin Simon, their hypnotherapist – states he’s unable to confirm nor deny the truth of what happened on that fateful night in September, 1961.  Going a step further, Simon even spells out how – scientifically – what he learns of the events is as equally statistically improbable of being fabricated as it is actually occurring.   Like the Hills, I suspect he wants to believe … but what would happen to a man of science who embraced this tale?  He knows all too well he'd be laughed out of a profession, so he stays silent.  He retains an independence.  While it’s clear that the Hills believe, Simon just can’t … even though he’s seen a shocking glimpse of what may lurk in waiting behind reality’s curtain.
 
The UFO Incident (1975) was produced by Universal Television.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable Kino Lorber.  As for the technical specifications?  The packaging states that this is a brand-new 2K master, and I thought it looked and sound exceptional from start-to-finish.  (NOTE: throughout part of the telefilm, there is a background hum that I’ve read some folks suggesting might be an error in the transfer, but if you watch closely you’ll see that the hum is directly associated to the recordings made during the hypnosis sessions … meaning that is meant stylistically to be there.)  As for the special features?  The disc boasts a series of trailers for like-minded fare along with a commentary track (from historian Gary Gerani, a curious choice given the subject matter’s real-world implications) along with a feature-length documentary exploration the music of composer Billy Goldenberg.  (As of yet, I’ve not had time to watch these – just returning to the blog from the family vacation – but once I do I’ll update the post regarding any additional thoughts.)
 
Post script: Yesterday afternoon, I had the chance to take in the commentary track, and – to my surprise – it’s actually quite good.  Gerani balances the responsibilities of giving his assessment of the true story very well alongside an accounting of the efforts to bring the film to life.  I always found him very respectful of the fact that the truth – especially in cases like this – tends to be elusive: even the debunkers’ logic can be shown to stretch the bounds of what’s truly believable.  Though I thought he stayed on the fence a bit too much, he provides a very reasoned analysis to his take, and I enjoyed it.
 
Highly recommended.
 
I occasionally suffer a bit of blowback from folks who don’t feel I should be covering films, books, and TV shows involving matters of High Strangeness on a blog devoted to entertainment.  Some people stress that my thoughts on them in this space suggests that I consider them entirely fictional in nature, and nothing – nothing – could be further from the truth.  Though I’ve no reason to believe in the existence of extraterrestrials, unidentified flying objects, or various cryptids, I’ve no reason to discount their existence, either.  Furthermore, I’ve found in my own travels that folks who enjoy Science Fiction and Fantasy often are motivated to explore the fringes of known science, and the tale of Betty and Barney Hill is exactly the kind of thing they appreciate.  Lastly, this is – hands down – one of the best reasoned and impartial explorations involving the topic of alien abduction ever committed to film; that reason alone means it might just well be worth your time.  Suspend whatever notions you may have, and enjoy this story.  It’s a fabulous and riveting experience whether you believe or not.
 
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 The UFO Incident 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

OK.  Time for a very, very, very brief recap.

Stranger Things Season 1?  Very, very, very good.

Stranger Things Season 2?  Very good.  Not as great as the first, but good.

Stranger Things Season 3?  Meh.  Honestly, I had all kinds of issues with it, most of which related to what I felt was a messiness to its pacing.  And I didn't care for the big mall finish.

Stranger Things Season 4?

Well, it's not concluded yet, silly fool, but I will say -- without question -- that it's the best Nightmare On Elm Street sequel that never involved the great Freddy Krueger to begin with.  Yes, it feels derivative -- many watchers and critics have even touched on that association (and there's nothing wrong with it) -- but it's a respectful association that clearly and cleanly ties in with cinema sentiments of the 1980's.  So there.

So I can't pronounce any verdict on Season 4 as of yet, but all of us will be able to when starting on July 1st the streaming behemoth Netflix drops the last two installments of this season.  I've read that both parts are feature-length outings -- meaning two-hours-plus -- so I guess we have to set aside a good chunk of time to experience what they're promising is an epic conclusion that may or may not spell the doom of our beloved Hawkins, Indiana.

Will there be deaths?

Well ... shucks.  There's no way for me to know, peeps, but as one who has watched an awful lot of genre stuff as well as tinkered with writing of my own, it's extremely rare for stakes to be raised this high and yet have everyone survive without a mark ... so I'm thinking that, yeah, someone is going to go down for the count.

Only time will tell.

Trailer is below.  You know you want to watch it.
​

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

​-- EZ

I can't be one of the last red-blooded American males truly intrigued by matters of High Strangeness, can I?

From the Roswell Incident to tales of Bigfoot and beyond, I've always been fascinated with truths that lie just beyond our collective ability to understand our universe.  This isn't to say that I believe, that I believe in all of them, or that I've made up my mind to disbeliever; rather, it's just an honest observation of the simple fact that I don't think we always have the facts, figures, and ability to grasp how fragile our grip on the cosmos is.  As some might say, "the more we learn, the less we know" seems to be an appropriate diagnosis for where we are as a people; and until we commit serious effort into legitimately defining any unexplained phenomenon (not merely debunking it) the truth will continue to slip further and further from our grasp.

Here.  Let me put it another way: I'm as skeptical of what we know as I am of what we don't know.

So with that in mind, I'm always thrilled at the opportunity to examine one of these topics, and I'll be doing that just tomorrow when I review 1975's The UFO Incident.

For those who've never heard of it, it's a 1975 telefilm that covers the story of Betty and Barney Hill, a married couple who found themselves (allegedly) abducted by aliens back in September, 1961.  As you might imagine, experiments were performed, lost time occurred, and their version of events were only recovered via deep hypnosis.  Any and all of the tropes commonly attached to the alien abduction phenomenon (with a few small exceptions) practically originate from this event, one of the very first of its kind with any official record.  I've not only long been aware of their story (it's been covered in a few books I've read) but also I've heard plenty about this telefilm ... so as you can imagine I'm pretty damn jazzed to finally have put my hands on a copy.

As this one is available for purchase today, I wanted to give it a plug for interested folks.  I'll throw in a link or two below as well for you to check out.

Amazon.com: Link for purchase

Wikipedia.org: The Betty And Barney Hill Story

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

-- EZ