A great deal has been written about the kinds of stories that director Alfred Hitchcock – once dubbed ‘the Master of Suspense’ – handled best.
 
While I haven’t always agreed with that assessment, I can attest that the storyteller did have a masterful knack with handling character-driven stories in tense situations, especially when those central characters were – by-and-large – the kind of folks who found themselves simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Where I tend to disagree is that it’s been suggested that Hitchcock loved to use ‘the common man’ type of players; I think a careful analysis shows that these weren’t always ordinary folks so much as they were folks caught in extraordinary circumstance.  But … how he put them through their respective paces?  How he documented the highs and lows they found themselves in?  How he cleverly drew audiences in closer and closer with each successive segment is exactly the kind of cinema I think he’s best known for across a storied career.  Lastly, it’s very clear that his legacy is something that has served as inspiration (and comparison) for many filmmakers to emulate.
 
Into this realm of – ahem – Hitchcockian delight, I’d definitely recommend 1995’s Mute Witness.
 
Written and directed for the screen by Anthony Waller, the film is an incredible debut performance for an auteur only emerging onto the entertainment scene.  (IMDB.com indicates that, technically, this wasn’t his debut; but as I’ve been unable to find any substantive information on his only previous effort of note, I’m going with it for the purposes of my review.)  The story presents audiences with what seems like it’s going to be a kinda/sorta ‘locked box’ style mystery, and – thankfully – that isn’t quite the case as it takes a twist in the second half that actually gives it much stronger legs to stand on.  The end result is probably something even ‘the Master of Suspense’ would find compellingly watchable even though there’s some decidedly unnecessary comic relief that rears its head in the least convincing moments.
 
(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 mute make-up artist working on a slasher movie being shot in Moscow is locked in the studio after hours.  While there, she witnesses a brutal murder and must escape capture.”
​

Sometimes the sheer beauty of watching any single picture is that it twists just when you think you knew exactly what it was.  This diversion might be owed to a particular character trait, or it might be the result of a new face or new circumstance suddenly inserted into the action.  The point of this is that the end result swiftly manages to reinvigorate one’s interest in the action: veering hard left when you – as an audience member – thought you had the carnival attraction fully figured out is part of what makes storytelling still – when done right – the type of one-of-a-kind experience all of us should crave and reward when we see it.
 
That’s my initial reaction to having just completed Mute Witness: about thirty minutes into this deliciously little chiller, I was starting to relax in my chair, honestly thinking I knew what Waller and company had in store for me.  Then … lo and behold … a late-breaking twist emerged on the scene, and I found myself suddenly forced with having to rethink a bit of what had come before as well as edge forward in my seat yet again … because this ride was far from over.
 
If that sounds like high praise, then I’ve accomplished exactly what I set out to do in crafting this review.  Witness starts out as a kinda/sorta grim procedural – think of it as Die Hard meets Friday The 13th, a locked box thriller where our young heroine Billy Hughes (played wonderfully by Marina Zudina) – a mute make-up effects technician – finds herself trapped in an abandoned movie studio with a pair of real-life slashers.  That premise alone will probably lure a respectable number of Horror aficionados to a screening … and, yet, Waller had a bit more up his sleeve that he didn’t reveal until he’d clearly established the room … only to then pull the rug out from those he caught rubbernecking on his procedural.
 
What makes the affair even more exceptional is the fact that the writer/director makes great use of his lead character’s disability – her inability to speak – with how the second half unspools.
 
Without spoiling the biggest surprises, Hughes has found herself near the heart of an international conspiracy circling around snuff films.  (For those of you who might be unaware, there’s a dastardly subculture of maniacs who profit off the deliberate murder of their victims being captured on film.  These aren’t merely accidents, mind you: this is actual murder, and it’s usually of the supremely violent capacity.)  The headcount of possible suspects involved in such a dark business suddenly spirals into the unthinkable.  Russian officials could be participants.  Local crooked cops may’ve been coopted into such wrongdoing.  Even the somewhat kindly Soviet police detective Larsen (Oleg Yankovskiy) might not be exactly who we think he is, and this poses increasingly difficulty for our leading lady when it becomes clear that no one is trustworthy.
 
What’s a girl to do when she can’t even speak?
​

Still, such an adventure can’t escape a bit of predictability.  Those of you watching closely – yes, I’m cursed in that way – might catch a few of the obvious breadcrumbs Waller’s script drops along the way.  Alas, it becomes increasingly clear that this mental and physical labyrinth can only lead back to the dank and dark movie studio wherein the evil that men (and women) do gets captured on film; and this even pushes the door open for a late-breaking ‘gotcha’ our heroes use to distract the heavies so that there might be a happy ending.  Suffice it to say, “you go with what you know” proves to be Billy’s best course of action, a bit of theatrical trickery that we’ve seen before in stories involving such technical experts.  1986’s F/X and its inferior sequel F/X2 (1991) immediately come to mind, but similar stuff makes for good effect in even in a Horror/Comedy like 2022’s Final Cut.  Trust but verify what you see because your eyes might not be as reliable as you think in the realm of Hollywood.
 
Where Mute Witness stumbles a bit is in the inclusion of some curious – ahem – comic relief.
 
Granted, I can understand and appreciate why Waller probably opted to insert some laughs here and there to soften a bit of the gloominess.  Murder – as a central topic – is dark enough, and expanding this to cover such territory as the dreaded snuff film pushes it into rarified air.  To soften such blows, Waller has Billy’s closest associates – her sister/interpreter Karen (Fay Ripley) and film-within-the-film director Andy Clarke (Evan Richards) – jump through a bit of slapstick involving gunplay, mistaken identities, cooking, and a bit more.  My problem with the jokes isn’t so much that they work so much as it is they just seem a bit looney.  Making light of gun safety?  Apologies, but I just don’t find that stuff all that funny.
 
Lastly, there’s a curious hint of odd chemistry between Zudina and the screen detective Yankovskiy plays in the picture.  (This isn’t present up-front, but it’s one of those budding extensions here and there.)  Given the fact that – ahem – he seems considerably older than her – quick math based on their profiles on IMDB.com suggest, at least, a twenty-year age difference – the lightly suggested relationship feels a bit off.  Truth is apparently stranger than fiction, though, as I’ve read that the lovely Zudina actually spent a fair amount of her romantic life entangled with actor/director Oleg Tabakov … a man born thirty years before she was.
 
Ahem.
 
It looks like the lovely lady ‘had a type’ after all.
​

Mute Witness (1995) was produced by Avrora Media, Cobblestone Pictures, Comet Film Produktion GmbH, and Patoss Film.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the good folks at Arrow Films.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I’d still state that the sights-and-sounds to this release are exceptional.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Well, you’re in luck because this is Arrow, and – mark my words – they rarely disappoint.  In order to be fair to everything listed, I’m doing the copy-and-paste from the distributor’s press release published previously on Blu-ray.com:
​

• 4K RESTORATION approved by director Anthony Waller
• HDR10 PRESENTATION OF THE FILM
• Restored original lossless stereo soundtrack
• Optional English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing
• Brand new audio commentary by writer/director Anthony Waller
• Brand new audio commentary with production designer Matthias Kammermeier and composer Wilbert Hirsch, moderated by critic Lee Gambin
• The Silent Death, brand new visual essay by author and critic Alexandra Heller-Nicholas, examining Mute Witness and its relationship with snuff films
• The Wizard Behind the Curtain, brand new visual essay by author and critic Chris Alexander, exploring the phenomenon of the film-within-a-film
• Original "Snuff Movie" presentation, produced to generate interest from investors and distributors, featuring interviews with Anthony Waller and members of the creative team
• Original location scouting footage
• Original footage with Alec Guinness, filmed a decade prior to the rest of Mute Witness
• Teaser trailer
• Trailer
• Image gallery
• Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Adam Rabalais
• Double-sided foldout poster featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Adam Rabalais
• Illustrated collector's booklet featuring new writing on the film by Michelle Kisner

​Now, for clarity’s sake, I’m only provided a physical copy of the Arrow release as an approved reviewer.  Consequently, I cannot speak for the efficacy of any of the listed physical materials (i.e. artwork, collector’s booklet, etc.), so – with respect to those items – consider it “buyer beware.”
 
Highly recommended.
 
Mute Witness (1995) – even with a few curious wrinkles – is a solidly entertaining thriller much more than it is anything truly resembling the typical Horror release.  While it definitely dabbles with that genre’s biggest tropes – especially given the fact that it deals with slashers in not one but two uniquely different ways – it still suffers from some mild predictability along with some weirdly irresponsible humor that tonally feels a bit off.  But make no mistake: there are still plenty of great reasons to enjoy this picture, and perhaps the greatest is Zudina’s winning performance as the somewhat ordinary gal who finds herself in extraordinary circumstances … and only her workplace moxie is enough to get her out alive in the big finish.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Mute Witness (1995) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

Believe it or not, we’ve almost had time travel movies as long as we’ve just had the ability to craft the motion picture.
 
Now, of course, that’s a bit of an exaggeration.  My point is that time travel – in one form or another – has been around in the cinema for well over a century now; and – in that respect – storytellers have tried to plumb the highs and lows of, say, going to sleep in one era while waking up in another.  From 1921’s silent era adaptation of A Connecticut Yankee In King Arthur’s Court all the way up to the big, big, big crowd-pleasing Back To The Future (1985), audiences have embraced the idea of taking a trip through the years.  Why, even the once great BBC franchise of Doctor Who and NBC’s Quantum Leap (both iterations) have aptly demonstrated that there’s ample wiggle room to spin just about any conceivable yarn.  So long as scripters can come up with something to say about it, I suspect time travel will remain popular for the foreseeable future; and I’m always on the lookout for some new twist on the old formula to make its way into our collective consciousness.
 
Still, without belaboring the point, 2024’s Rani Rani Rani may not exactly be that next big thing when it comes to clock-watching.  Written and directed for the screen by Rajaram Rajendran, the flick does try to apply the mechanics of temporal manipulation to a decidedly more blue-collar construct: our lead heroine is little more than the average housewife stricken with a kinda/sorta do-nothing husband (in ill health, I might add) who initially wants nothing more than peace of mind in her marital relations.  It would seem that the Time Gods had something a bit more elaborate on the agenda, and she finds herself a one crossroad after another in an attempt to right a few things that went awry all in the scope of a matter of minutes.
 
To everyone’s credit, Rani Rani Rani certainly makes great use of its best asset: actress Tannishtha Chatterjee is a delight to behold, delivering a likeable hausfrau who won’t take no for an answer even at the risk of her own life and liberty.
 
(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:
“For Rani, the caretaker at an abandoned factory, in an almost-abandoned Indian village, it’s just an ordinary day, trapped in a struggle for survival between a feckless husband on one hand, and his brother and ruthless sister-in-law on the other.  But when she happens upon a group of opportunists seeking to prove the efficacy of their mysteriously-acquired device to a potential buyer, her fortunes seem set to change.  All they need is a ‘volunteer,’ and for a small sum of cash she’s lured into their machine.  While she emerges seemingly unscathed, a violent turn of events makes Rani realize that changing the trajectory of her life might just be a matter of a second chance, or a third – or maybe just a little more time.”
 
I’ve often said that the dirty little secret for me when it comes to uncorking yet one more project requiring time travel is that I, too, wish I had that ability … if for no other reason that I could dip back a few minutes and erase some of what was wasted on an inferior idea.
 
Of course, I don’t mean that as an insult to anyone involved with Rani Rani Rani.  While I stand by those words – that there is a huge, huge, huge amount of unnecessary bloat to this one’s nearly 100-minute running time – I can still attest to the fact that when the movie found its proper groove here and there, it worked just fine.  The problem remains that those high points are too far apart, heavily spaced out over long sequences of little more than Rani (as played by Chatterjee) walking from one location to the next.
 
Seriously: there is a L-O-T of walking in this picture.
​

And that’s the greatest downside to anyone stumbling into this time-bending caper: it’s been done elsewhere, it’s been done better, and it truly brings nothing new to the situation or circumstances.
 
This isn’t to say that writer/director Rajendran didn’t try.  He pads the slim procedural here and there with small scenes that might not exactly move things along efficiently but occasionally look as if they’re meant to flesh out the crew of ‘scientists’ and ‘businessmen’ hoping to exploit this new technology to whatever profitable ends they can achieve.  There’s even a big morality speech late in the picture, one that shows the filmmaker didn’t want to take advantage of fringe science without questioning the dangers of mucking up multiple universes.  While the speech is good, like everything else in here in just drags and drags and drags on far longer than need be, slowing the forward progress with some rather obvious intellectualism.
 
FYI: this isn’t Oppenheimer, folks, but Rajendran might have you believing otherwise – albeit briefly – in this significant exchange.
 
However, Rani Rani Rani – the title matters, folks, in ways you’ll understand after watching – does pose an interesting position for those who like to dabble in such wares: as the lady’s struggles continue to mount, the narrative mostly coalesces around the premise that perhaps all time travel events might wind up in causality loops.  (I might be overstating the obvious here, but it’s a small point, so deal with it.)  Despite her best efforts, Rani can’t quite seem to fix what ails her as a consequence of going back again and again; and it isn’t until she joins forces with another brave soul that she can finally find some tranquility.  Is this meant to be a metaphor that no one should attempt to alter Fate unless it’s with a second pair of hands?  Or am I to glean from this development that victims remain powerless to alter the flow of events unless someone else agrees?  I’ll likely never know … not that knowing would change my opinion of the project.
 
(It’s important to remember the film’s opening sequence.  Without spoiling it, let’s just say something happens before Rani comes into the story; and I’ve no doubt that it was significant.  It arguably demonstrates that – ahem – all may not be as well as we believed it is in the last reel.)
 
Frankly, if it hadn’t been for the fact that Chatterjee turns in such a solid performance in the second half I might’ve turned this one off early on.  It’s definitely a low-budget attempt to capitalize on big ideas, but thirty minutes of unnecessary walking and/or boy-buddy-time just had no purpose of being.  Once Chatterjee’s Rani figures out what’s going on, she throws off those shackles of modesty – including her headdress – and rushes headfirst into the business of fixing what’s been inadvertently sent askew.  Audiences saw Marty McFly do this in Back To The Future: Part 2 (1989) for great laughs, but thank God Chatterjee is vastly better looking than he was (so far as I’m concerned).  Occasionally feisty and willing to mix-it-up when the time is right, the actress made this one much less of a slog than it needed to be and yet somehow still managed to become in all the wrong ways.
 
Rani Rani Rani (2024) was produced by Rajaram Rajendran.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the sights-and-sounds to be quite good from start-to-finish.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Well, you do have the theatrical trailer to look forward to, but that, my friends, is all she wrote.
 
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
 
On one level, it’s honestly quite difficult to recommended Rani Rani Rani (2024) to anyone generally if only because – as a time travel movie – there’s absolutely nothing original attempted in this except for the fact that it was all accomplished with an exceedingly low budget.  The premise as is reminds me of other efforts – most especially Timecrimes (2007) which tackles a great deal of these ideas with greater clarity – and it isn’t as if any single performer here really hits it out of the park.  But … sigh … yeah, I’m kinda/sorta a sucker for a decent cause/effect procedural; and – in that respect – I’d encourage Science Fiction and Fantasy fans to check this one out.  However, I’d also encourage watchers to keep the remote nearby as there’s a ton of footage that can be fast-forwarded through as it’s heavily (HEAVILY) repetitive.  Good … but flawed.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary DVD of Rani Rani Rani (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

True story: last week, the wifey and I screened a very, very, very good documentary series on Netflix exploring Hitler and the nature of evil in the world.

You see, we both grew up in an era wherein society believed it was still advantageous to civilization at large to continue teaching about World War II and the growth of Nazism.  While history is certainly filled with various portraits of the vile nature of men, I think it's pretty well set in stone that there has never been such an egregious attempt to change life itself in the way that Hitler and his willing conspirators did.  Getting educated on such vicious campaigns as well as some of the lingering effects that nation's attempt at genocide certainly makes one think about the pursuits of men a bit different; and I think it's a shame that not even a century later it would appear that the American education system has failed to instill that fear that "it could happen again" in the young'uns who've passed through their doors for some time now.  Why, it's almost like Nazism never really went away ... it just repackaged itself under more crowd-friendly clothing.
​
The documentary series largely uses the trials of Nuremberg as a framing structure to tell the broader story; and -- since it had been some time since we'd seen 1961's Judgment At Nuremberg we opted to give that a view on Saturday night.

Wow.

​Though I'm not opposed to talking a bit about politics on the blog (I realize that a great many entertainment stops do avoid such discussion), I don't like to belabor some points.  Yes, there's enough of that stuff available for those who choose to consume it, and I think that's great.  The chief problem with combining entertainment with politics is that -- well, you know this, too -- politics tends to be divisive while entertainment is arguably meant to serve fully as a distraction from such dire, dire subjects.  Mind you: this isn't always the case as actors, actresses, and directors has always been willing to push their pet agendas at damn near every opportunity, but I hope you get my main point.  These platforms could be two separate venues, but we see them crossing over these days more often than not.

As a consequence, it's grown harder and harder and harder to avoid talking about politics, especially those ideas linked directly to ideological expression.  Clearly, Leslye Headland -- Harvey Weinstein's former personal assistant -- is using her "creation" -- Star Wars: The Acolyte -- to push gender ideas -- she's even said as much in interviews.  Russell T. Davies is presently at work transitioning the once epic Doctor Who franchise into a live-action cartoon meant to get children talking about homosexuality and the like.  Kevin Smith took the once legendary He-Man property, sucked its masculinity dry, and rebuilt it into something that, frankly, no one watched.  And, yes, the list goes on and on and on.

At every turn, Hollywood and creatives around the world inject these social constructs into places they hadn't existed -- or let's agree that they existed with lesser prominent focus, at least -- and it's killing ratings, commerce, and the general Return On Investment (R.O.I.).  Those enterprises that used to be the source of so much joy have now become slow-moving tanks crushing the hopes and dreams of fandom in their bid to reshape mankind into something that, well, maybe it ought not be.  This isn't a judgment, folks: it's an observation.  If you can't tell the difference, then perhaps you shouldn't be even in this space.

But ... I digress ...
​

For those of you who haven't seen Judgment At Nuremberg (shame on you, for starters), let me clarify: the film isn't about the big trial.  In fact, the Nuremberg trials were a conglomeration of several trials as this international tribunal had to hear evidence spread across the many several layers of the Nazi government that had engaged in efforts to commit genocide.  While, yes, the big movers and shakers were tried and given sentences, there were also a great number of faces and names who weren't given great coverage in history also brought before judges, evidence of their crimes delivered, and sentenced across a variety of punishments.  It's this area in which the film focuses, and I think this sets up why it's such an important picture to watch.

​Without recapping the whole affair, let me give you the highlight I think most relevent.

Dr. Ernst Janning (played by Hollywood legend Burt Lancaster) was in charge of the German judiciary, that part of the governing body that was chiefly responsible for the 'legal' prosecution of the Jews brought before the court for any number of infractions.  Because it was his responsibility to see the laws of his land successfully executed, he did his assigned duty and sent a great number of the accused to the very camps wherein their lives were lost.  Granted, if Janning had ignored the dictates passed down often by Hitler himself, another 'stooge' would have been put in place to rubberstamp the ongoing persecution efforts; but Janning -- a renowned legal scholar -- stayed at his post, effectively passing sentences that helped der Fuhrer on his various campaigns of intimidation.

Judgment At Nuremberg -- the film -- takes place roughly two years into the Nuremberg trials, a time which a great many of the German people have grown weary with watching over and over again their former leaders being dragged into the public spotlight, forcing them to relive what their nation did throughout one of the darkest times in world history.  As they've come so disillusioned with watching these proceedings, they're grown bitter about always being portrayed as 'the villains,' and Janning's story comes at a point wherein they are now expecting a bit of ... erm ... leniency to occur.  After all, why should the good men and women who were just following the orders of a dictator continue to suffer?  At some point, blame should go away; otherwise, how can an entire people get on with the business of healing?

It's this sentiment -- the fatigue of hearing about one atrocity after another -- that feeds the film's emotional core.  Chief Judge Dan Haywood (played by Spencer Tracy) -- just one of the men who finds himself having to sit in judgment over these men -- is conflicted, but -- given the severity of the evidence -- how can he simply bend to the will of the German people and look the other way?  Clearly, wrong were committed -- and, yes, we're talking about some incredibly vile and unspeakable acts -- and someone needs to be punished ... but how far is too far?  How long is too long?  When can we -- as a culture -- finally call and end to shining a spotlight on villainy and try to return to the business of just living life?
​

Though I could be wrong, I believe that none of us are brought up to hate.  None of us are imbued with a sense of destruction.  We might hold grudges, and we might find it difficult to say we're sorry from time-to-time; and this is -- largely -- because we're human.  We don't wish to traffic into the darkness so willingly, so prevalently; and we understand that there is grace and peace in putting the past behind us.  Let bygones be bygones.  Find a way to push through the murk and the mire, and, instead, find our way to greener pastures where everyone can get along, where everyone has a home, and things are generally good.

Sadly, Progressives don't see life the same way ... or, at least, that's been my experience.

​While we seek to forgive, they seek to glorify both their choices and their way of life.  They see the world from a different perspective -- one that needs to be remade in an entirely different image -- and they'll stop at nothing to see that utopia delivered by hook or by crook.  If that means toppling each and every social more they encounter on the way, then so be it.  If that means injecting a measure of social justice into each and every intellectual property, then that's what they must do.  If that means killing the Golden Goose so that an ideological enemy can no longer have something that's good and green, then so be it.  Why should their enemies have successes if they cannot?  Isn't -- ahem -- life supposed to be equal?  Isn't it supposed to be fair?  Isn't it supposed to be worth living?  If so, then they deserve what we have, and they'll take it if that's the only way they can have it for their very own.

​And ... because we're human and forgiveness is in our very nature ... we surrender.

This is why fandom fails.

​True fans don't traffic in hate.  True fans don't traffic in oppression.  True fans don't traffic in controversy.  Oh, sure, we might get into the various kerfuffles about whether or not Kirk was the better captain than Picard.  Yeah, we could argue about which costume Wolverine looked best in.  And, of course, we could spend hours in reasonably tense debate about whether or not Han shot first.  Those types of things are fun.  They bring us joy.  They bring us happiness.  They don't divide us so much as they grow our skills at thinking and communicating, and they're meant to be an expression of how deeply our various entertaining distractions have been engrained into our very being.  Yeah, maybe they're trivial, but they're also fun.  It's these events that make us fans, and we seek out and explore them at every opportunity.

Still, what we don't do very well is simply say, "No more."
​

Our calls to action are usually reserved for those things that give us the most joy. 

​Far too often we're completely unwilling to separate ourselves from our favorite diversions because we live in constant fear that these glorious distractions might go away if we don't consume them.  If we don't accept inferior Star Trek, then there may be no Star Trek at all.  If we don't embrace bad Star Wars, then the studios will simply stop making it.  If we don't tune in for the latest Marvel sh#tstorm, then the good and the bad will no longer find purchase; and we'll be returned to the dark days wherein we have to make our own entertainment.  If we don't buy the comic books, then the comic books stores will shut down.  Because we'd rather have something than nothing, we're unwilling to part with lesser efforts ... even if that means we've sacrificed the joy in tuning in and now do it out of a perceived necessity to keep something inferior alive.

​Each of us -- at some time -- has been alone.  Each of us -- at some time -- has been on that island.  We know the pair and the fear and the despair that comes from isolation, and -- whether we're willing to admit it publicly or privately -- it isn't something that we relish.  We long for association.  We long for friendships.  We long for shared interests.  And we long for the ways we can express the appreciation for things that elevate us spiritually, emotionally, psychologically.  This is exactly what being a fan is about; and -- as I've always sad -- it unites us in ways we can't even begin to see on more levels anyone could ever, ever, ever dream about.

And -- no, no, no -- I'm not calling for a boycott.  I'm simply saying that boycotts aren't in our nature.  Yes, one very well might be needed -- ratings suggest that Marvel, Star Wars, Star Trek, and Doctor Who are in trouble well enough without their being any collective effort -- but the conspiracist in me would simply say that the powers that be will just come up with another end run around fandom because they don't believe in our collective power in the first place.

My point is we should never forget.  Forgive all you want, but don't forget.  Don't forget what Russell T. Davies did.  Don't forget what Alex Kurtzman did.  Don't forget what Jon Favreau and Dave Filoni did.  Don't forget what Kathleen Kennedy did.  Don't forget what Leslye Headland did.  Don't forget what Kevin Feige did.  Don't forget what Bob Iger did.  When you forget, you lose concept of history, and you're apt to lose 'the high ground' that Obi-Wan Kenobi showed us was requisite in the proper time and proper place.

It's only in retaining the high ground that you can properly cut off your ideological adversary at the knees ... thus keeping them from perpetrating evil again.

-- EZ

Good morning, gentle readers, and welcome to today's Daily Grindhouse ... or as it's better known as On This Day In Science Fiction, Fantasy, And Horror History!

Well, well, well ... how's everybody been?

​I know, I know, I know ... I haven't exactly done a Daily Grindhouse for some time, and that's been a deliberate choice on my part.  I keep tabs on what posts actually resonate with regular readers -- or, at least, what posts I can effectively measure -- and these Daily Grindhouses have kinda/sorta dipped a bit in interest so far as the metrics were showing.  Doing them every day certainly runs the risk of negating the importance of celebrating, so I opted to take a bit of time off from them and focus on creating other new material for the readership instead.  Speaking as a semi-active blogger and consumer of entertainment, there's this constant battle between encouraging newbies to the site and rewarding oldtimers; this back-and-forth can get a bit exhausting, so I'm trying to create a stronger equilibrium with my work behind-the-scenes.  Don't worry: I'll eventually get it all figured out -- probably on my deathbed -- but I persevere.  That's the best I can promise everyone.

​In any event ...

This morning, I did a quick glance over the Daily Citation Page for June 7th, and I thought it was time to pop onto the MainPage and highlight a bit of what makes this day unique in my quest to preserve history for readers.  So let's buckle up and settle in for the details ...
​

If you've been here in the readership for that long, then you've no doubt come across me using the phrase 'the perfect movie.'

My point in doing so is to underscore that -- most definitely -- I believe that there are perfect movies out there.  I think that they're rare -- even the very best classics can suffer from some negligible blips here and there -- but when we see them we should be able to call them out for what they are if for no other purpose than to fully celebrate the fact that they were made.  I find it even more enticing that we've had a few of what I call 'perfect movies' in the genres of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror as those are the releases I've always gravitated toward anyway.  Showing them with an extra bit of praise for their perfection is why I do what I do in this space, so I hope you'll all agree.

​That said, yes, I do believe that 1984's Ghostbusters is one of those rare experiences when everything -- from cast and crew to when it was made and released -- aligned perfectly across the heavens.  Of course, I've read some commentary over the years about how the film's special effects are a bit dated, but I've always thought that -- thematically -- these were some very solid creative choices.  There's a frank cartoonishness to a lot of the action, so having something that looked too perfect might've injected some realism into the action that just wouldn't have felt proper.  As the visuals are -- even like those above -- this infusion of the less-than-real tonally underscores that maybe -- just maybe -- we aren't supposed to take all of this seriously.

Peter Venkman certainly didn't.
​
This is also why that I -- as a consumer -- am glad to see that Ghostbusters survives decades later.  While I haven't seen anything that's really come close to the charm and magic of the original (don't get me started, people), I think it's great that our genre franchises can branch out and take justified risks to maybe not so much enhance the IP as it is push it toward simply existing.  In other words, I'll take an inferior follow-up so long as it's crafted with the right sentiment in mind.  You can keep your gender-swapped imitators to yourself.

So ... celebrate a true original today ... because who ya gonna call when ghosts come a'knocking?
​

One of the dirty little secrets to having a film like Ghostbusters (1984) is that someone sometime somewhere had to begin putting bricks into the foundation that could be the Horror/Comedy hybrid ... and -- believe it or not -- one film that did so was first released on this day all the way back in 1940.

​The Ghost Breakers was a commercially and critically successful films that first dabbled in such a creative realm.  Directed by George Marshall, the Horror/Comedy starred box office sensation Bob Hope alongside Paulette Goddard, Richard Carlson, and Willie Best.  From what I've read, Hope himself also thought fondly of the picture because it kinda/sorta gave him the chance as an actor to do something a bit different and actually try his hand at silver screen heroism.  (The man was forever being cast in fairly traditional comic roles, so he was blessed with doing something a bit different in this outing.)  Apparently, the film was so popular that it inspired a solid handful of other productions as well as being remade twice over the next two decades.

You want a bit of icing on that cake, do you?

Ghostbusters star Dan Aykroyd is even on record in an interview suggesting that it was 1940's The Ghost Breakers that served as a creative inspiration for his own ghostbusting business ... so how about the serendipity of those stars aligning with two motion pictures so thematically similar being released on the same day decades apart?

Honestly, I don't much remember The Ghost Breakers.  I'm sure it's one of the flicks I watched in my youth -- so many moons ago now -- but it's vanished from memory.  I might have to pick this one up and give it a solid review in this space in the days ahead ... so keep your eyes peeled.
​

My friends, casting matters.

Some might argue that there's no greater role in producing a film than in making sure -- at all costs -- to secure the right talent in the right roles.  Of course, there are a great number of balls that need to ultimatley get juggled in the process of completing said picture, but how much weight rests on the shoulders of the talent quite possibly gets overlooked here and there.  I like to point out perfection when I see it ... and that's what I'm doing today in calling attention to the birthday of Liam Neeson.

Neeson -- despite being in only a single entry of Star Wars' Prequel Trilogy -- truly embodied the spirit of what makes that franchise such an endearing commodity.  With an incredible measure of respect, the actor became a Jedi Master -- a role audiences hadn't seen onscreen in a few decades -- very quickly catapulting viewers back to the confines of that galaxy far, far away.  He had a grace and gravitas that, quite frankly, hasn't been matched in any of the franchise's efforts to this day; and I can't imagine any other creative having accomplished what he did in the role and having it become the legacy it is.

I realize that, perhaps, Neeson has courted a bit of controversy as of late for sounding off so negatively on the Star Wars sequels and Disney+ series; but I give him his due.  The point that he was making -- so far as I interpret it -- was that there's a crashness and/or cheapness when you disturb what was accomplishing so winningly on the silver screen.  Maybe he was even hinting that Star Wars has become a bit too commercially exploited for its own good.  Whatever the case may be, I think it's perfectly fine that he spoke up as I wish others who have been instilled with preserving a property's legacy seem perfectly okay with its vapid misutilization.

(Here's looking at you, Ewan McGregor!  Did you learn nothing from your Jedi Master?)

Happy Birthday, Mr. Neeson!  Thanks for doing what you've done!
​

For those of you regular readers: yes, I'm always looking for small(ish) ways to expand the Daily Citations Pages within SciFiHistory.Net.

One of the ways I've always been tinkering with behind the scenes is promoting a daily quote that can be pulled from the vast, vast, vast catalogue of dialogue and stories featured in Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror.  The problem in doing so for me has always been either (1) having enough time and (2) making certain the quotes are functionally worth featuring.  I don't just wanna post anything that's kinda/sorta already been posted elsewhere, so I take more time to throw something into the wind than do most.  I might ultimately settle on something simple, true; but I'll always try to honor the spirit of what makes genre entertainment uniquely entertaining.

So watch for these little blurbs to begin popping up at the start of the Daily Citation Page.  I'll eventually get around to giving them their own heading -- maybe 'Quotables' or something similar -- and I'll likely start sharing them across social media platforms as time permits.
​

Of course, there's more.  Some might even say that there's a lot more.  Still, all I hope to do in this space and time is to point out those particulars I find the most relevant ... the most intriguing ... and to share with you as my own form of self-serving promotion.

You know you want to know more, and I know that you know that you know you want to know more.

This is where I throw out the link to the page of interest and encourage you to begin your own deep dive into the realms of the Fantastic ... oh, what a journey, indeed ...
​

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

-- EZ
​

While I’m a huge fan of independent productions, I’ll also admit that they frustrate me sometimes beyond belief.
 
Mind you, I’m just a critic.  I’ve never been inside any production, big or small.  I have known several folks in the business; and I once worked briefly with a lady who was part of an indie outfit.  But when it comes to experience within filmdom, I really don’t have any significant to bring to that table.  As someone who has both dabbled in writing and watching countless hours of flicks, I’ve built up a reservoir of thought that helps me in evaluating efforts critically; and it’s often been these indie features I enjoy most.
 
Where I struggle with them, however, is I come across so many incredible ideas that, ultimately, feel shoehorned into an inferior product.
 
Though I used to keep a list personally, I’ve now lost count of the number of smaller releases that have had some central nugget of pure inspiration around which to build a compelling story but, instead, wastes the potential in subplots or unnecessary plot twists.  It might be a little thing here or there – a solid foundation, some great characters, or an interesting event – but I’ve sat and watched how in so, so, so many cases that initial flavor turns sour before the finish.  Rarely I have seen an indie film – and I’m only talking these smaller projects, not ones with a lot of spending cash – truly stick the landing … and, yes, that frustrates the hell out of me as a consumer.
 
This brings me to my thoughts on We Go On (2016).
 
Written and directed for the screen by the team of Jesse Holland and Andy Mitton, the story – a very solid character-driven experience – revolves around a man’s private yet desperate attempt to come to grips with life itself.  While some might dismiss such an idea as being perhaps a bit too grand for some independent venture, I’d argue that – for much of this picture’s run – We Go On broaches the subject as deftly and as intelligently as could any studio effort.  The players involved all hit their strides in the right places; and, yet, there’s still a listlessness to far too much of the narrative to make it rise to the occasion the way it could have.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the kind 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:
“Miles Grissom offers $30,000 to the first person who can prove to him that we go on after death.”
 
C’mon: you know we all want to know the answer to life’s ultimate question!
 
And what better way to weave a powerful story about life, death, and everything in between by having a straight down the middle of the road dramatic extrapolation than this?
 
Haunted by a past struggle, Miles (played convincingly by Clark Freeman) has found himself emotionally and psychologically damaged perhaps beyond repair.  Stricken with a crippling agoraphobia, he’s willing to venture outside into the world of the living sparingly and – even when he does – he’s usually afflicted by panic attacks and tremors.  Deciding that he finally needs to put the past behind him, he commits to a relatively simple game plan: taking out an ad in the daily newspaper, he offers a generous sum to any individual who can prove that there’s more to this life than just what we see in the here and now.
 
Naturally, such a campaign brings out the usual charlatans, but – with his mother Charlotte (Annette O’Toole) helping to comb through the responses – Miles whittles down the interested parties to what he feels are serious prospects.  Without going into all of the particulars – yes, he’s duped once, confused once, and nearly duped a second time – the young man perseveres despite the fact that answers are in short supply.  He’s frustrated, and he’s shaken, but he’s still unwilling to give up on his quest for information.
 
But once his biggest potentials have nearly run dry, he opts to meet with an anonymous caller whose only instructions are to meet him at a nearby property adjoining the airport.  Nelson (Jay Dunn) – a somewhat disheveled young man with poor color and the look of the typical homeless fellow – invites Miles ‘behind the fence’ into a rundown building that – to his surprise – posits a curious development for them both.  It would seem that, yes, life does go on after we expire … but there are some grim and dire consequences to both knowing and accepting such a dark truth.
 
Without overdoing my praise, I think that We Go On delivers this surprise – the meeting between Nelson and Miles and just who they are and what they mean to one another – with brilliant clarity.  It’s the catalyst for where this story is going to travel next; so – as the crucial set-up – I couldn’t imagine it being handled in any other way.  Where I think the film fails is that once we’re given this pivotal answer, Holland and Mitton’s script sadly devolves into some melodrama between Miles and his mother – she’s suddenly smitten with violence in a curious turn that never feels organic – as well as a dramatic tributary that explores Nelson’s kinda/sorta girlfriend Alice (Laura Heisler) that just left me scratching my head.
​

Once the veil is lifted and a character is given the answer to life’s biggest question, I’d rather spend more time with that person.  I’d want to know how he/she is going to evaluate their own life now that there’s no going back, and I’d hope I’d see how this significance might have him/her calculating – if nothing else – what could’ve been done differently along the way.  While We Go On briefly toys with this, the bulk of the second half feels like I was drawn into a slightly different film – one wherein the characters seeming have little countenance over the fact that they’ve had the universe’s secret unlocked before their very eyes – and the end result is lopsided.  It strays curiously into some rather dark territory – I’m still not sure I understand fully why Alice felt violence was her only way out, nor am I entirely certain of what psychosis Miles’ late father struggled with – and that was disappointing.
 
We Go On (2016) was produced by Filmed Imagination.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Lightyear.  As for the technical specifications?  Wow.  While I’m no trained video expert, I thought the bulk of this effort was composed with some exceptional sounds and visuals.  Well done.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  First off, I find it worth mentioning that this release is being advertised as an ‘Updated Special Edition With Enhanced Visual Effects’; having not seen the original, I can’t speak to any significant differences between the two flicks.  The disc also boasts not one … not two … but a whopping three audio commentaries featuring cast and crew.  Also … well done.
 
Recommended.
 
Though I was a bit disappointed with where the story ultimately delivered me, it’s still easy to give We Go On a recommendation.  Holland and Mitton take an honest look at life and death in a relatable way, and they’ve crafted a handful of characters who make this cinematic journey one worth the effort.  They touch on paranormal subjects with relative ease, never cheapening the possibility that there could be more to existence than we see daily in the same deft manner that Fox TV’s The X-Files did or even ABC TV’s short-lived Miracles tried in its limited run.  It’s definitely one of the better ‘quieter and gentler’ films I’ve seen tackling the beyond – without a great deal of flash and sizzle – so I think storytellers would do well to tap into such territory as inspiration.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Lightyear provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of We Go On (2016) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

Residing as I do on this side of 'the pond' as opposed to that, I didn't grow up with a great deal of Doctor Who.

From what I can recall, I found it on PBS out of Chicago sometime in the late 1970's.  Hanging out at a friend's place, he had recently discovered it; and -- knowing that I was about as jazzed with Science Fiction and Fantasy as he was -- he decided it was appropriate to give me a proper introduction.  This was the era of the great Tom Baker; and, yes, I fell in love with it after a few viewings.  (It didn't bite right away, but it did fairly quickly.)

And, kids, back in those days we couldn't just hit the corner video store (a few years away) or dial up the Information Superhighway to binge until our hearts were content.  As I always remind you, we had maybe -- MAYBE -- six television broadcast channels on a good day; and, thus, we had to make do with what the programming executives were kind enough to give us.  So I didn't get a chance to see what earlier Who looked like until much later, so William Russell's contributions didn't have as lasting an effect on me as did some of the other stuff.

Like many of you, I'm a bit of a purist, so I have gone back and watched some of it here and there.  (Again, I don't exactly have access to the whole lot of it.)  Also, my daytime gig as being the Internet's self-proclaimed resident of All Things Genre practically requires that I take a look at it when time permits; but, alas, I'm only circumstantially aware of Russell's contributions from the days gone by.  I'll do what I can in the years ahead to rectify that, as a quick rundown of his IMDB.com profile suggests he most definitely has a legacy within that Intellectual Property, and I feel a bit saddened that I don't have more to say on it today.

As I also often point out, none of us gets out of this place alive -- well, you know what I mean -- and I saw yesterday that the actor's passing was being reported.

Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Mr. Russell.

May he forever rest in peace.

-- EZ
​

In late 2015, director John Carpenter successfully plead his case to a French court about how Luc Besson’s 2012 Science Fiction Actioner Lock Out was, essentially, a copy of the Horror Master’s 1981 film, Escape From New York.  Structurally, the only significant difference between the two flicks – so far as I care – was that Carpenter’s adventure was set on Long Island (in what was then a fictional tomorrow) while Besson’s transported the action into the Final Frontier.  But both properties involved political leaders (to a degree), a secured penitentiary, a gritty anti-hero as the protagonist, and a race-against-time structure that pushed the captured footage from the start to the finish.  Factually, there are even several more key similarities, but – for argument’s sake – I’ll leave it at that.
 
Now … the internet being what it is, I was among those who’d seen Lock Out and argued faithfully online that it was – or, at least, it should’ve been – an open-and-shut case for plagiarism.  Yes, yes, and yes: I was dragged through the virtual mud by that contingent of viewers who worship from the trough of all things Luc Besson.  However, those of us who held our ground were ultimately validated by the French court’s decision – that copying could be rather handily established betwixt these universes – and we were glad to have been vindicated.  As one of Snake Plissken’s original and oldest fans, it’s a character I’d love to see a continuation of sorts with, but picking him up and redepositing him in a whole new world was never a good idea.
 
As can happen when your catalogue is as well renowned and highly regarded as is Carpenter’s, it kinda/sorta seems to me that another property that may’ve flown too close to the sun (for it’s own good) is 2023’s Blood And Snow.  According to IMDB.com, Jesse Palangio directs this Horror/Fantasy with a script attributed to Rossa McPhillips and Simon Phillips.  Unless I miss my guess (I’ve been wrong before plenty of times), I can’t help but wonder if the three of them got together and came up with this, perhaps hoping to – ahem – pay homage to Carpenter’s The Thing (1981).  If so, then all well and good.  But if not?  Erm … I think someone might want to stream the 80’s benchmark, consider issuing a mea culpa, and talk to their lawyers.
 
That’s what I would do.
 
And I don’t give legal advice.
 
(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:
“Two scientists uncover a meteorite impact site in the Arctic tundra, but it kills one scientist and infects the other.  A nearby base takes in the lone survivor whilst trying to understand what happened.  The lone survivor may not be the person they think she is.”
​

Having been around the Information Superhighway as long as I have, I can attest to being that lone hold-out who’s convinced that John Carpenter’s best work – by far – has been and will always be Escape From New York.  It’s a singular vision – one with classic hard-boiled characters all wrapped up in a curious race against the clock to potentially save the U.S. from political disaster – and it truly put actor Kurt Russell as a Thespian to watch in the days ahead.  He’d grown up on camera, largely in some wholesome schlock from the Walt Disney Company, but here he was in full adult fashion showing precisely how to show up, kick ass, and get the job done in deliciously gritty manner.  His transition from kid star to the big leagues was complete, and he never looked back.
 
But Russell followed up this quest with another one alongside Carpenter: 1982’s The Thing cast the actor in the guise of R.J. MacReady, a grizzled American helicopter pilot serving out a rotation at some God-forsaken research outpost located in Antarctica.  Lo and behold, he finds himself and his fellow mission specialists slowly being hunted by an alien menace that has infiltrated their base and possesses some wicked shape-shifting abilities that keep everyone – including the audience – guessing as to who the villain’s identity could be.  In classic Agatha Christie style, the men are hunted down one-by-one, and the survivors hope to not only run out the clock but save mankind by seeing such a deadly creature dead and buried.
 
Well …
 
I’m not going to belabor the issue here, but a whole heckuva lot of 2023’s Blood And Snow follows the exact same dramatic thread.  You’ve got an unseen alien menace.  You’ve got a remote, snowy facility.  While the crew may not have to worry about the central nasty parasite jumping from host to host, the script even tinkers heavily with the suggestion that such a development is possible (it even happens in the final reel, and – yes – it’s damn near exactly how it transpires in The Thing … what a dog-eat-dog world!).  The stark interiors, the slowly shifting camerawork, the heightened sense of increasing claustrophobia, the tense exchanges between men whose nerves have been frayed … it’s almost as if Blood was intended to be a double take on that spell Carpenter wove so well so many decades ago.
 
Dismissing this as Blood’s greatest obstacle to establishing an audience all of its own, the film isn’t put together all that bad.  Director Palangio makes some curious choices here and there (I don’t understand what he was trying to say with so many slowly focusing dissolves), and yet overall he makes pretty solid use of some limited production facilities and a fairly underwhelming cast.  Sadly, there isn’t a great deal of explanation going into the specifics that might’ve helped flesh this world out in such a way as to make it feel authentic the way I would’ve preferred – characters are a bit bland, and there’s even a ‘cook’ who never quite cooks but instead sits and plays video games on end.  A bit more substance might’ve eliminated some of the aforementioned parallels I’m sure many, many, many genre fans will notice; but – at the end of the day – I can only work with what’s been provided.
 
Lastly, scribes McPhillips and Phillips truly did the cast a disservice by trying to craft so many pivotal scenes.
​

The opening introduction of the two men audiences spend most of the theatrical time with goes on far too long, so much so that I wondered if I’d somehow struggled into some art-house take on Driving Miss Daisy (1989).  When you try to give each and every character his and her own special sequence, there’s no amount of spacing them out accordingly that’ll fix the obvious fact that you wanted everyone to have his own ‘arc’ (of a sort).  Instead of evolving organically, all of Blood begins to quickly feel artificial … like they’re actors playing a scene instead of being blue-collar working stiffs trying to get out alive.  Just because a secondary player might be negligible doesn’t mean that backstories be inserted for everyone: sometimes, there’s nobility and grace in just bein’ a bloke who shows up, does his job, and still falls to the Grim Reaper.  Sometimes, it’s how these men are played that ultimately matters most.
 
Blood And Snow (2023) was produced by Dystopian Films, FilmCore, HorrorHound Films, and RGVisions Multimedia.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by the fine folks at Cleopatra.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I was a bit underwhelmed more so with the sound mix on this production as opposed to the visuals.  The imagery – except for a few sequences that employ some rather obvious post-production trickery for special effects – is a bit dour, but that matches the themes of the story.  But the sound – for whatever reason – was a bit muddled and low in a few places.  In fact, I had to keep adjusting it in the first half – turned it up, then had to turn it down, etc. – and I’m not sure if it’s owed to a defective disc or simply a bad sound mix.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  There’s a promotional slideshow and the theatrical trailer to consider, but that’s all she wrote.

Alas ... only Mildly Recommended.
 
Wowza.  Look, I’m already on record in plenty of places stating that I’m not the biggest fan of John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982); and maybe – just maybe – that’s why I didn’t find much to love about Jesse Palangio’s Blood And Snow (2023).  While it lacks all of the proper spit and polish of what’s definitely signature Carpenter style, this retread could very well be pulled from shelves some day owed to it lifting and repackaging so much of that inspiration in what could be a reasonably easy case of plagiarism with the right judge.  What pains me most is that I say this as a huge, huge, huge supporter of indie cinema; but – at some point – you’ve got to inject something new into the equation if you want to avoid a lawsuit.  This one damn near matches even the original’s running time, and I’d be a bit embarrassed to have my name on something that appears an inferior copy.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Cleopatra provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Blood And Snow (2023) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ
​

Folks, as I've always said, I do my very best to avoid courting any many controversies.

Now, that isn't always easy, right?  What with the increased exposure a critic or just a basic audience member such as myself might have because of the expansion that the Information Superhighway presents, I've found that my observations have occasionally been shared elsewhere without even a request or my knowledge of said share.  That's always a risk -- putting anything up in this day and age -- but it's one a good deal of us have welcomed.  I have received some -- ahem -- curious feedback in certain times and certain places over something as simple as having an opinion; and -- hey -- that's perfectly okay.  I stand for my own opinion -- I'm willing for it to be seen as wrong by any and all who find it in this space -- and I'm willing to defend them even to the point of being seen as incorrect.  At the end of the day, it's only an opinion -- it can be as right or wrong as can anyone's -- so try to temper the elation or anger accordingly is all I suggest.

But there's a certain contingent of "fans" who seem to have taken over "ownership" of several Intellectual Properties -- several of them genre tentpoles -- and I'm just tired of their smear tactics.  As I said, I'm willing to debate anyone's particular take on entertainment issues, but far too often these days these new "fans" tend to go hot and heavy right out of the gate with personal attacks.  Rather than defend their own position or even respectfully debate the merits or detriments of what I have to say, they instead hurl insults as if their honor or "privilege" of remaining anonymous is more important than constructing an authentic debate.  Oh, they'll every now and then give the impression that they're open-minded and/or willing to have a conversaion, but I've found that they're more interested in couching intelligent dialogue with ad hominem viciousness ... and, sorry, that sh#t shouldn't be tolerated.  Anywhere.  By anyone.  At any time.

So ... no, I'm not going to engage on Star Wars latest installment, The Acolyte.

Much like the Walt Disney Company and the BBC have sought to refashion Doctor Who into something pushing ideology, it definitely appears that The Acolyte -- even with its very name -- is desiring of the same theft of intellectual property.  Kathleen Kennedy has long insisted that -- ahem -- "The Force Is Female" (her words, not mine) -- and I've suggested online and in places here and there that I see this as an attempt to insert an agenda so deeply entrenched in the franchise's core mythology that it will not recover.  You can't thumb your nose at an audience for ten years and expect them to hang around.  You can't repeated insult paying customers and expect them to keep coming back for more, certainly not in the era of Joe Biden's oppressing economy.  At some point, it becomes patently clear that we -- as consumers -- are not wanted; and I've always sided with taking my business elsewhere when and if I'm not sought as the preferred demographic.

This isn't about the ongoing culture war between the have and the have-nots.  I'm perfectly okay with stories of any ideological bent being told in just about any narrative universe.  Why, just yesterday I sounded off on the obvious emasculation present in Netflix's Lost In Space reboot, and I even admitted that -- despite disagreeing with the premise -- I still managed to have a helluva lot of fun with the inaugural episode.  As I've always said, I can put aside politics if I'm given a story grand enough to captivate me as a viewer.  I'm just no fan of politics for the sake of politics, and it's kinda/sorta become clear to me that this is all Kathleen Kennedy and Leslye Headland wish to do: usurp the mantle of The Force and Star Wars for their own ideological edification, and it's that sh#t that just doesn't interest me.

For saying something as simple as that?

Why, yesterday -- online -- I was told that my masculinity was too fragile.

See what I mean?  There's absolutely nothing substantive in that comment.  It's lacking a degree of thoughtfulness, and it's predicated entirely on a false assumption that tries to subvert my expectations -- as a consumer -- so f#ck them, f#ck those fans, and f#ck The Acolyte.  I wish it well -- I hope it achieves whatever grand goal Disney has set for it -- but none of us need that kind of ignominy in our lives over a f#cking TV show ... and one that doesn't look very good much less very inclusive at the start.

The Force is not female.  It never will be.  And Lucasfilm will likely crash and burn further as a consequence of such pandering.

-- EZ
​

Whether audiences like it or not, Hollywood has long been on a kick to revisit, reboot, and/or rebrand past properties, often times giving them a creative makeover that studio suits feel amply reflects the – cough cough – modern era.
 
No, no, and no: I’m not going to spend the bulk of this review opining about the lack of originality in the wide, wide entertainment industry because each and every one of us knows that such diatribes really go nowhere.  I’ve often said that I – as a longtime consumer of genre projects – am perfectly ok with storytellers bringing a show back from the dead; I just have a few requirements that I feel are necessary to distinguish it from what came before as well as justify the remake.  First, it should seek to honor the themes of the original.  Second, it should respectfully add something to that legacy.  And third, it should – wherever prudent – set out on its own course to bring something new to the universe.
 
Need a bit more explanation?  How about a few examples?
 
On the plus side of things: Syfy’s reboot of Glen A. Larson’s fabulous space saga – Battlestar Galactica – ran on the network from 2004 through 2009.  While it’s safe to say that the program met with some limited controversy over small things like creating an all-new iteration of Cylons (basically human clones) and changing the gender of a fan favorite (the cocky star pilot Starbuck turns from a man to a woman), the narrative run of the show both stayed true to the current of the original.  In fact, both shows were centered entirely around the idea of the last remnants of a distant civilization searching out their human counterparts on Earth.  Though I’m not exactly well known as being a huge fan of the reboot, I respect it – even embrace it in some ways – for being one of the best examples of what quality genre programming can look like when translating it into a nearly all-new experience.
 
On the negative: Paramount+’s horrifically rejiggering of Star Trek from a franchise revolving around morality tales into … well, I don’t know what other than a huge, huge mess that resulted in Star Trek: Discovery (2017-2024), a show more properly referred to as ‘STD’ amongst those ‘in the know.’  Creators Bryan Fuller and Alex Kurtzman lacked any compelling reason to ignore so much of established Trek lore and continuity other than to usurp the Trek name for their own nefarious purposes, morphing the intellectual property into a confusing miasma of cardboard heroes and villains all wanting to talk about how they feel.  Gone were the days when Starfleet stood up for the best moral choices in the galaxy; and – in its place – audiences were given sermons about white privilege, how governments are evil, and (gasp!) pronoun usage.  In a galaxy of black-and-white, Discovery set out to be gray at all costs; and viewers largely ignored the series as a consequence.
 
So … the decision for any studio or production company to pick up Irwin Allen’s Lost In Space kinda/sorta begs one to ask, “Why?”
 
Now, bear with me a moment, as some of this may sound a bit disrespectful but is not intended as such.  What follows are facts, people, and they’re not intended as an critical assessment necessarily.
​

The original show ran on network television from 1965-1968, and – by most accounts – it wasn’t exactly ratings juggernaut.  A quick review of information available via a Google.com indicates that its first season performed best of the three; and that crop of episodes scored overall in the mid-30’s of all original programming for that television season.  Like Gene Roddenberry’s Star Trek, a cult following for Lost In Space built up in the decade following – much of this has often been credited to the fact that man landed on the moon, spurring a collective interest in space exploration – and a generation of viewers embraced it despite some rather tepid yarns and some decidedly underwhelming special effects and make-up work.  Furthermore, it had been rebooted previously – both on screens big and small – and, yet, it never quite established itself beyond being a niche endeavor.
 
But as I said above, Hollywood does what Hollywood wants, and Netflix along with several production partners invested a good sum in an all-new adaptation.
 
Was it worth it?
 
Well, I guess that’s where I come in as the resident critic.  Today, I’m taking a look at the series’ pilot – “Impact” – which first streamed on the platform on April 13, 2018.
 
Strap in, astronauts: we’re heading to the stars.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the kind 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 honest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the episode’s IMDB.com page citation:
“On the way to a space colony, a crisis sends the Robinsons hurtling towards an unfamiliar planet, where they struggle to survive a harrowing night.”
 
The nuclear family today is not what the nuclear family was in the late 1960’s when the original Lost In Space sent the Robinson family packing into the Final Frontier; and – if anything – the Netflix iteration sought to make that perfectly clear in its pilot episode.  Mom and dad are estranged; the kids are not all – ahem – the same color; and family dynamics seem to almost encourage more than a bit of healthy disagreement in several places.  While Dr. Smith isn’t yet part of the cast (he – now she! – shows up late in the hour, as does the seminal Robot), it’s still crystal clear that long gone are the days when dad laid out the marching orders, mom divvied up the chores, and the kids did what they could to stay out of trouble … well, at least so much that it didn’t fully derail whatever mission was being explored in an hour of network entertainment.
 
In this new era of discovery, John Robinson (played by Toby Stephens) is a hardened military man who’s lost favor with his wife Maureen (Molly Parker) and kinda/sorta fallen out of favor with his children Judy (Taylor Russell), Penny (Mina Sundwall), and Will (Maxwell Jenkins).  By contrast, Maureen is the consummate professional, one who is loved by peers and her children; though there are hints that she may very well have gamed the political system to secure seats on the Jupiter 2 for the entire family, it’s blatantly obvious that the script from Matt Sazama and Burk Sharpless are painting her as the hero figure for modern audiences.
 
And why shouldn’t they?
​

Hollywood has been actively engaged in transitioning hero figures from the males to females for the better part of … wow.  Maybe two to three decades now?  These activists have allowed gender ideology to seep into every major franchise on television or at the cineplexes; and – despite some rather obvious loss of revenge – they’re continuing the trend at all costs.  And, yes, the rest of the first episode goes to great pains to emasculate John Robinson at every possibility, be it his family’s reliance on a strong role model, losing Will while out on a mission to rescue Judy, and having the Robot show up in the knick of time to save the day.  Without a doubt, Lost In Space’s writers appear committed to demonstrating the folly of the ‘Great American Male,’ and the installment suffers under some rather obvious cultural proselytizing.
 
Still … you know what?
 
I’ve always said that – when it comes to evaluating scripted entertainment – I can set aside my own perspective if a story is compelling captured; and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t smitten just a bit with this new version of the classic show.
 
“Impact” rather effectively and easily introduces us to the Robinson family.  They’re all gathered around the dining table of their Jupiter 2 spacecraft playing a game of Go Fish just the way mom, dad, and the kids would (or, at least, used to do); and they’re doing their best to both handle the stress of space flight and sibling rivalries as best they can.  When Star Trek: The Next Generation took seven seasons to get its ‘family’ together for a card game, Lost In Space did it right out of the gate; and – in a small way – I think that speaks to the great ideas that these writers might have for what’s the come.  Even though this Will, Maureen, Judy, Penny, and John have been drawn up decades after Irwin Allen conceived the original idea of sending a family into space, the hour has an incredible sense of togetherness that pervades the atmosphere.  They may be crafted for today; but there’s still a strong sense of knowing what drew viewers to the original, and I’m willing to remain thankful for that.
 
Additionally, this iteration of Lost really went all-in on the idea of presenting the real dangers awaiting those who venture into this wild frontier.  Without spoiling all of the particulars, this Jupiter 2 isn’t alone – there’s a veritable fleet of ships making the journey to Alpha Centauri; and it’s this small armada that’s attacked by an unseen force for reasons unknown.  Instead of pitting only the Robinsons against such galactic elements in a bid for survival, it definitely appears as if there will be others involved, along with an incredible number of dangers that might spell doom at every turn.  We’re not talking about the garden variety monsters in a rubber suit that made so much of the 1960’s version into a camp classic; and this pilot underscores that all involved might need to do a bit of growing up to face what’s to come in the episodes ahead.
​

In fact, I’d go so far as to suggest that this initial chapter really moved a bit too quickly in a few spots, and it may’ve been better crafted as a two-hour pilot telefilm.  The second half involves a great deal of development – the introduction of the Robot as an alien lifeform, the brief meeting between Dr. Smith (Parker Posey) and Don West (Ignacio Serricchio), etc. – and some of it felt rush.  Granted, viewers don’t necessarily require all questions answered in sixty minutes; but this one still faded to black with an overwhelming wish on my part to know a bit more than was provided.  While such sentiment might be terrific for wooing viewers to hang around or come back for more, the story felt a bit too incomplete in a few spots to my liking.
 
Lost In Space’s “Impact” (S01E01) was produced by Legendary Television, Synthesis Entertainment, Applebox Pictures, Cinesite, and Clickety-Clack Productions.  The episode is presently available for streaming on Netflix.  As for the technical specifications?  Wow.  While I’m no trained video expert, I can assure you that this show both looks and sounds phenomenal, if not downright theatrical in spots.  As can happen, there are a few mildly undercooked effects bits here and there, but none of them seriously distract from anything capture on the screen.  This is some fabulous work, and it deserves to be commended.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  As I viewed this via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
 
Highly recommended.
 
Generally, I’m not one who likes ideology so brazen inserted into mythmaking, but once Lost In Space’s “Impact” really gets going at full speed it grows harder to notice it (unless you’re watching for it, as I do from time-to-time).  At sheer entertainment value, I’d still have to give this launch high marks as it very efficiently introduces the Robinsons (and a few others) to a new audience and delivers a compelling story with action, suspense, and intrigue.  That rarely happens as expeditiously, so hats off to all involved.  This one proves that viewers might still get ‘Lost’ if the going continues to be this engrossing.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’ve access to streaming Lost In Space (2018-2021) via my own personal subscription to Netflix, making me beholden to no one for my thoughts and observations on it.

​-- EZ

As a practice, I typically disdain melodramas from the past.
 
This isn’t to say that I don’t find one or two or three of them worth the time spent.  I certainly don’t wish to brush all of such films with the same brush and condemn them at the outset.  My issue with them has always been that I find them a bit obtuse (in some ways) and downright predictable (in others).  Rarely am I genuinely surprised with a character development or a plot twist as far too many storytellers entrenched in the studio community were ‘coloring by numbers’ all too often with studio requests.  The resulting banality rarely gave the cast the chances they deserved to truly show audiences what they could do with such creations; and this is why a great number of said melodramas end up sounding and feeling like I’ve seen them before – or something similar – and I lose interest rather quickly.
 
It's for this reason that I get truly excited when I find a production that bucked the trend despite incorporating a good deal of what was already hitting screens elsewhere; and 1954’s The Good Die Young is one such effort.  Directed by Lewis Gilbert and based on a novel of the same name, the film is a potpourri of character-driven Drama about four men whose lives aren’t exactly falling apart so much as they’re veering beyond their respective control.  As a good deal of their private problems are linked to the ladies they love, the script embraces the usual melodramatic tropes about relationships, marriages, and role models; and yet – because there’s an heady undercurrent of disillusionment pushing them to make increasingly questionable moral choices – it weaves near and dear to Film Noir in ways that cineastes always appreciate.
 
The finale may not be all that fresh and original, but director Gilbert deliberately constructs the narrative in a way that’s increasingly interesting as to the stakes involved.  It may be a bit difficult to shake off the approaching reality – that being that ‘the good die young’ – and I’d insist this is still a journey worth taking, especially with the screen talent all doing what they do best perhaps even singularly so in this particular time and particular place.  Sometimes grim yet always relatable, crime thrillers of the bygone era aren’t always this consistently watchable … and that’s saying something.
 
(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:
“In London, three otherwise law-abiding good men and their unscrupulous leader are about to commit a serious crime, but for different reasons.”

​The drawback to practically every crime thriller is that audiences already go into them with full knowledge of the object lesson: “crime doesn’t pay.”
 
Filmmakers have tried switching that central premise up here and there over the decades, occasionally exploring stories that inevitably have left watchers rooting for the bad guys despite what our mothers, preachers, or other moral or spiritual advisors would think of us.  In fact, Michael Mann has become rather adept at delivering some of the most authentic criminals, drawing them so vividly that audiences get almost rapturously wrapped up in their survival as opposed to seeing them brought to justice.  While some might take issue with such an approach suggesting that it widens the moral chasm between the law-abiding and the lawless, I’ve long thought that such increased realism gives those of us who still think about myths the chance to ruminate over their messages – mixed or not – instead of reaching the same conclusions we did with the last outing.  If nothing else, such films show better how some get seduced by the Dark Side (aka a life of illicit deeds); and maybe such storytelling can be said to be good for the soul.
 
This sentiment – an honest extrapolation of how men turn toward evil – drives a great deal of The Good Die Young.
 
The flick opens with a set-up of four stern-faced blokes riding in a car to some unspecified location.  Once they stop (and the opening credits finish), guns are passed around – clearly a surprise to a few faces – and the stage is set … but the details remain sketchy for a good portion of the 100-minute running time as director Gilbert now takes the audience back several days in time in order to detail what lead up to this inevitably explosive moment.
 
Joe (played by Richard Basehart) is a Korean War veteran who abruptly quits his day job in order to head to England to reclaim his wife Mary (a young and exquisite Joan Collins).  The lady finds herself essentially trapped there by a domineering mother Mrs. Freeman (Freda Jackson) under the constant emotional threat that she’ll commit suicide if she’s left all to her lonesome.  Now that Mary is pregnant, Joe insists he’ll stop at nothing to pull her away from the master manipulator, but he’s operating a little short on funds at the moment.
 
Mike (Stanley Baker) wants nothing more than to put his failed career as a boxer behind him, wishing to start fresh on the relationship with his young wife Angela (Rene Ray).  One last bout gives him the payday he needs to put them in good stead, but – alas – Angela’s sniveling brother keeps looking for handouts that are increasingly expensive.  When she spends the last of Mike’s savings to bail her sibling out of jail, her husband feels the walls of financial debt closing around him, putting him in a position where he’ll do anything to get out.
​

Eddie (John Ireland) comes home on leave from military service only to find his actress/wife Denise (Gloria Grahame) in an inappropriate relationship with the latest marquee name of her picture in production.  Though she gives signs that she’s still attracted to him, she still refuses when he asks her to follow him to his new posting in Germany because she’s clearly having too much fun in the entertainment business.  As a man of action who finds himself privately emasculated, Eddie goes AWOL and decides that he’s needing a new distraction to keep him from his resulting anger.
 
Rave (Laurence Harvey) has always had his sights on pursuit of the mighty dollar, and possibly for that reason alone he wed Eve (Margaret Leighton), a woman of financial means who could support whatever risky scheme he desired.  Now that she’s grown wise to his shortcomings, she’s cut him off from her fortune, a development which causes him to search out the ‘next big thing’ that could make him wealthy.  What better way than to rob the van transporting 90,000 pounds to the local post office in the dead of night?
 
If you missed it, then let me assure you that, yes, there is a great deal of set-up for The Good Die Young’s plot and characters.
 
Setting each of these dominoes up to fall accordingly is the stuff of great drama, and director Gilbert has fashioned his thriller in such a way that the four principles aren’t even in the same room together – a local pub – until about midway through the drama.  Lesser flicks ignore clearly and cleanly establishing the foundation for their elaborate heist, and that’s why their criminals are easily forgotten after the screen fades to black.  But here the audience is given a spate of faces and their respective backgrounds so that questions about how and why they chose to do this minimally makes sense.  You might disagree with the choice.  You might find one or two stories a bit, well, dull or anticipated.  You might even be a bit stupefied by the ignorance of it all.  Still, Gilbert assuredly delivers a tale that adds up to the heist’s necessity only them revealing the fact that Rave is a demented sociopath – a veritable wolf in a British dandy’s clothing hiding all the while in plain sight.
 
Some might argue that the script – credited to Gilbert along with Vernon Harris adapting the Richard Macauley source novel – operates with a cleverly concealed misogyny.  Like it or not, a case could be made that each of these men’s greatest troubles stem from their relationships with women – i.e. the shrew for a mother-in-law, the philandering spouse, the perennial do-gooder who can’t or won’t refuse her own flesh-and-blood – and such a platform has critical merit.  However, I thought that the story instead tries to cast the men in the shared position of disillusionment – disappointed with life, careers, or perceived destiny – and the women involved are only part and parcel of why their feelings of inadequacy lead them to such a lowly place.
​

In fact, Rave gives a speech late in the picture when all of them are gathered around the table sharing drinks that underscores how society – of its post-war era – failed men and women alike.  In it, he details how the good were all sent out to defend the world’s interests; and the greatest return they were given for such a personal sacrifice was to die ‘honorably’ while the others were allowed to enrich themselves and their families back home.  While it becomes clear that he’s got a big axe to grind with the human race, Gilbert’s film stops short of displaying Rave’s utter contempt for law, order, and the rest of that jazz until the robbery goes awry.  This understandably puts him at odds with Joe, Mike, and Eddie a bit too late for them to seriously do anything about it; and this is why the second half of The Good Die Young is exceedingly grim … even more so when you realize this was made in the 1950’s.
 
The Good Die Young (1954) was produced by Romulus Films and Remus.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by the good folks at MGM (Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer).  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the various sights-and-sounds to be very good though a bit underwhelming in a few spots.  The opening was unusually grainy – I could even see with the title credits that the images were shimmering a bit – but it improves significantly as the movie wears on.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Sadly, there are none of the DVD release I was provided, and I would definitely have liked to have known more.
 
Highly recommended.
 
I’m honestly known online as a guy who does tend to gravitate more toward older productions.  Having read about so many, I’m aghast that – to my knowledge – I’ve never come across The Good Die Young (1954) anywhere.  It’s about a grounded a 50’s era crime thriller can be, and that’s saying a good deal since there have been so many good ones.  While I might take issue with a scene or sequence here or there, I’ll admit to absolutely loving a great deal of this one – its setting, its story, its commitment to drawing so many side stories into a central thread – and I was struck with the poignancy of these various men trying to put their lives into some acceptable order.  Every performance hit a mark – hard to do with so much talent on the screen – and the picture sizzled for me in its fantastically realized climax.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary DVD of The Good Die Young (1954) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ