Sometimes the secret to enjoying an older film is to simply appreciate what the storytellers were able to accomplish with greater restrictions placed upon them by society and the movie industry of their day.
 
Now, that shouldn’t replace the requirements that producers, directors, and screenwriters still manage to deliver a finished product that excels.  My point is that something that’s been done before – like the big screen police procedural – isn’t always easy to perfect because there have been so many of them.  The 1950’s, 1960’s, and 1970’s saw a great deal of them brought to life as the requisite formula evolved to include more grittiness as standards relaxed; and quite a few of them continue to score points deservedly and win fans decades later.  Granted, not all of them have aged as well as others; and this is why it’s sometimes important to remember what was accomplished against stricter scrutiny as the end product could’ve been a bit visionary for its time and place.
 
Such could be said of 1962’s Experiment In Terror. 
 
While it’s largely regarded as a bit of an ‘odd duck’ in director Blake Edwards’ catalogue (FYI: he was chiefly known for comedies, and this crime/thriller is completely void of laughs), the title might still be forgotten when compared to so many tighter stories that came out of the same era much less the more kinetic and riveting ones that emerged in the 1970’s.  Still, there are some ingredients that Edwards arguably got right in this tense melodrama between a master criminal and the smart women he puts through the paces; and I’ll try to highlight those as everything else squeezed into the overlong script feels a bit too routine in comparison.
 
(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 man with an asthmatic voice telephones and assaults clerk Kelly Sherwood at home and coerces her into helping him steal a large sum from her bank.”
​

A quick glance at box office information regarding Experiment In Terror shows that while the picture wasn’t a financial failure it really only performed middlingly, a curious assessment given my particular impression with the feature.  It – as a whole – really only hits the middle of the road.  Though critically praised online and at movie websites like IMDB.com, Metacritic.com, and Rotten Tomatoes, it just never quite soars the way I expected it except in small ways that deserves some greater reflection.  Essentially, Experiment is a bit of a caper story, the kind where an architect plots out what he believes to be a perfect crime; but would there really be all that much to tell if it all went off without a hitch?
 
Garland Humphrey ‘Red’ Lynch (as played by Ross Martin) has devised a means to pull off a bank heist while keeping his hands surprisingly free of such dirty work.  Through observation and research, he learns the identities of bank tellers and then goes about the business of studying their lives – along with associated friends and acquaintances – to learn wherein there could be a relationship worthy of exploiting.  By doing so, he’s mastered the art of finding an accomplice he can require to steal whatever sum he needs, promising to reward the thief with a small pay-off for the time and effort to make it all a reality.  Yes, it requires a bit of thuggery to get the good-hearted man or woman to cooperate, but Red is certainly up for that task, proving that he’s good for more than merely planning.
 
Enter Kelly Sherwood (Lee Remick), that noble girl-next-door lady who spends her days as a teller so that she can make enough money to keep a house over her head for her and her kid sister, Toby (Stefanie Powers).  Red corners her one evening in her garage and threatens Toby’s life unless the lady is willing to – upon his demand – walk out of the bank with a cool $100,000 to purchase their freedom and safety.  Naturally, there would be a heavy price to pay if Kelly went to the authorities, and he proves only moments later that he’s keeping an eye on the two of them to avoid any such eventuality.  Indeed, Kelly quickly realizes she’s no other choice but to do as the man commands … or else.
 
Normally, that would be enough of a set-up to weave a reasonably interesting yarn, but Experiment – as based on the novel by Gordon and Mildred Gordon – ratchets up the tension by involving Federal Bureau of Investigation agent John Ripley (Glenn Ford) and his crack squad of do-gooders.  They figure out a workaround to avoid their being spied by Lynch, and this opens the door for a variety of sequences in which Experiment turns into a rather predictable procedural wherein law enforcement officers go about the task of uncovering Red’s identity as well as tie-ins to previous robberies and maybe even the suggestion of motivation for why he needs such a sum as quickly as he does.  While good, this isn’t the kind of thing that hasn’t been done before (and better, frankly), but Ford arguably makes the most of the effort, carrying the picture through a great deal of standardized moments.
 
Chiefly, I can’t help but wonder if some of the film’s pacing problems might be owed to the source material.  Adaptations can be a difficult prospect, especially when the authors are also contracted to pen the resulting screenplay (as was the case here); and their affinity for retaining what they felt were strong points of a novel perhaps could’ve used the perspective of a potential rewrite.  What works in a book doesn’t always translate well to the screen; and the resulting slow pace here suggests that the Gordons may’ve been too enamored with the book’s structure instead of properly revising it for film.  Being unfamiliar with their book, I can’t say for certain; and yet I’m willing to bet money the parallels probably rack up fairly quickly.  A trim here and there might’ve made this one memorable beyond its best bits, but – as is often the case – we’ll never know for sure.
​

For what’s it’s worth, Experiment’s best bits are those that stick to the high crime atmosphere so eloquently set up in the film’s opening.
 
While I’d never describe the script as tight in any estimation, the sequences between Lynch and Sherwood simmer with palpable tension; and – as the plot develops – the two continue pressing one another’s button deliciously as their circumstances evolve.  Martin makes for an impressive screen heavy – while he plays the part of the villain with a measure of expectedness, it’s still convincing enough to carry the picture through its many, many, many quiet moments – and Remick is the kind of gal audiences root for even though we’re all too aware that she likely doesn’t have the stuff to stand toe-to-toe with her antagonist.  Sadly, the film spends far too much time in police procedural stuff that just isn’t that interesting; and there’s a late-breaking motivation subplot that kinda/sorta suggests maybe we should all feel sorry for Lynch.  Could he be a bad guy doing the wrong thing for the right reason?  Well, if you stand for justice, you don’t really care for such social politicking; and I think a better flick could’ve emerged if that premise had been culled in the editing room.
 
Experiment In Terror (1962) was produced by Geoffrey-Kate Productions.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Sony via Allied Vaughn.  As for the technical specifications?  Wowza.  While I’m no trained video expert, this black-and-white production looks exceptionally noirish from start to finish: there’s a bit of grain in some sequences, but methinks that’s largely owed to the fact that so much of the dark rendered in close-ups can and will show a bit of dissolution over the years.  Still, the cinematography is to be commended.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Alas, this release hasn’t a one, and that’s a big miss for this old school film junkie.
 
Recommended, but …
 
I’d be remiss if I failed to admit that I found a good portion of Experiment In Terror not only dated but a bit of a narrative slog.  Sadly, we’ve seen police procedurals hundreds if not thousands of times; and when your finished product both feels and works like so many of those the freshness of the better moments have to perform on another level, which doesn’t quite happen here.  The crime scenes – the opening, the telephone calls between the perpetrator and those he’s manipulating, the big crowd showdown, etc. – are exceptional.  But the stuff in between?  Well … we’ve been there and done that all too often, so this one could’ve used a bit of polish.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Allied Vaughn provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Experiment In Terror (1962) 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
​

​Here’s the thing, folks …
 
Honestly, there was a time when filmmakers lived to tell stories about p-e-o-p-l-e.  For the most part, these various and asunder characters were relatable or – at the very least – recognizable to a great portion of the viewing audience; and whatever emotional highs and lows they endured resonated with watchers in ways that made us laugh, sometimes made us cry, and even – believe it or not – made us cheer.  I couldn’t say when exactly but somewhere along the way these storytellers – for reasons I won’t pretend to understand – decided that enough was enough: instead of weaving magical theatrical spells about these various souls they invested more intensely in the stories themselves.  In their eyes, the players didn’t matter as much as the journeys you put them through; and – in the course of this ‘reinvention’ – what slowly bubbled to the surface was glaring evidence of that age old adage that there are only seven stories.
 
Have you heard that one?
 
As it goes, someone sometime far smarter than I came up with the concept of there only being seven different stories that any storyteller could functional tell.  (Google it, if you’re inclined: I won’t do any deep dive on the idea because that’s not the point I’m making.)  Basically, the idea is that there are abstractly only a handful of variations on a theme; so scriptwriters, authors, and anyone with a pen figured that the people in these plays weren’t as important as the premise.  (You know what there is an infinite number of?  Characters.)  Rather than expend serious effort on crafting men and women of interest, these faces were given second-class status to the stories they inhabited.  While no one in the entertainment likes to admit it, the end result is that they’ve been delivering an endless number of rehashes, which is why nothing seems all that original any more.
 
It's precisely because of the existence of this phenomenon that I’ll praise a flick like The Ballad Of Wallis Island (2025) every opportunity I get.  Unlike the usual drivel that studios and independents have been subjecting mankind to for decades, this picture damn near requires an investment on the part of the viewer in the c-h-a-r-a-c-t-e-r-s.  They’ll make you laugh (again).  They might even make you cry (again).  They’ll warm your heart (the way good people were supposed to); and – you know what? – they might even make you occasionally cringe over their respective failures.  Dare I say that we’ve all known someone that these personalities remind of us; and it’s this slowly creeping resonance that pulls you in, captures your attention, and maybe makes you – like it did me – wish for a time when we could go back and enjoy stories about people again as opposed to people participating in a story.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
​

From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An eccentric lottery winner who lives alone on a remote island tries to make his fantasies come true by getting his favorite musicians to perform at his home.”
 
I’ve an admitted fondness for films about knuckleheads mostly because I figure myself to be one; and Wallis Island features one of the best roles of the lovable doofus in years. 
 
Charles Heath (played by Tim Key) won the national lottery not once but twice; and one might think that the resulting world tour he and his wife took after winning might have given him a bit more … erm … self-awareness.  He isn’t a bad bloke by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s a bit curiously aloof, often speaking in either dated euphemisms or mildly inaccurate slang to express his personal adulation instead of an accurate stating of fact.  He’s a goofball – once without an ounce of arrogance – and he’s chosen to live out his life on his terms, residing in a rather simple dwelling on an island populated by … well … let’s say “less than one hundred.”  (That’ll make perfect sense once you see the flick.)
 
Five years after the unfortunate death of his wife, Charles decides he wants to do something grand to both celebrate her memory as well as the time they spent together; so he hatches the plan to get their favorite folk group – McGwyer Mortimer – back together for a last big concert.  However, the truth is that Herb McGwyer (Tom Basden) and Nell Mortimer (Carey Mulligan) broke up under the strain of a failed partnership and drastically went their separate ways, meaning that a reunion will require a bit of helpful misdirection on the part of their host.  Because Charles already suffers from the ability to kinda/sorta only say as little as is required, he’s a natural for this kind of matchmaking even though it obviously comes with sufficient risk.  But he has the money to arrange for such a private affair, and since both McGwyer and Mortimer find themselves in need of cash it’s a match made in movie magic … or thereabouts.
 
The beauty of Island’s script is that it’s an exceedingly slim cast in which all of the lead players had some skin in the game.  Key and Basden wrote the script, and they – along with Mulligan – are all credited here as executive producers.  Clearly, it was a labor of love to translate their short film (of the same story) instead something much more intricate and involved; and the end result is as humorous as it is heartfelt with each player’s respective idiosyncrasies somehow bubbling to the surface and telling audiences something interesting about the human condition.  We’re all imperfect; and – though we’re trying to make the best of these trips around the sun – we’re prone to mistakes.  How we resolve them is as important as our messing up in the first place; and Island’s narrative reminds us always to never take ourselves so seriously that we miss out on simply living every moment to its fullest.
​

Additionally, this might be one of the better ensembles I’ve had the good fortune to watch because the principles were so invested.  As they’ve obviously spent a great deal of time with these characters, the players should be commended for bringing them to life so vividly in moments big and small.  Basden is wonderfully dour and equally self-absorbed in ways too many to count, and Mulligan projects the kind of curious spontaneity we’re probably all imbued with as children but somehow lose in the process of growing up.  Key is the catalyst pushing these two back together – at least, so far as that can happen at this point in their lives – and he provides an incredible number of laughs with his verbal and behavioral quirks which likely remind each of us of a time when we likely did something as unintentionally inane.
 
The result?  It’s all magic.  Sheer movie magic.  And it’s the likes of which I wish we saw more of these days.
 
The Ballad Of Wallis Island (2025) was produced by Focus Features, Baby Cow Productions, Moxie Pictures, and BBC Studios.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Allied Vaughn.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights and sounds to be exceptional from start to finish: there are a few sequences wherein the audio seemed a bit muddled, but it could be just my untrained ear handling a mild accent here and there.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Alas, not a one.  A big, big miss, if you ask me.  I would’ve loved to spend more time in this universe … but I did purchase the soundtrack from iTunes, so there’s that.
 
Highest Recommendation Possible.
 
For clarity’s sake, this isn’t a genre picture in any regard; and, yet, I’ll easily chalk up The Ballad Of Wallis Island as one of my personal favorites for 2025 thus far.  It’s funny.  It’s touching.  It’s moving.  It’s relatable.  It reminds me of what drew me to watching films about characters in the first place, what with its spot on and nuanced performances across the board along with a story that never – NEVER – surpasses the importance of understanding the people caught up in this delicate web called life.  Thankfully, it chucks the formulaic ending out the window but still manages to deliver a message that happiness remains elusive only if you’re looking for it in the wrong place.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Allied Vaughn provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Ballad Of Wallis Island (2025) 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
​

So many movies ... so little time ...

On this day in 2022 (in the United Kingdom), The Haunting Of The Tower Of London enjoyed its initial release both on DVD and digital.  Written and directed by Charlie Steeds, the film starred Richard Rowden, Tim Cartwright, Jake Watkins, and others. 

According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:

"When the remains of two murdered Princes are discovered at the Tower of London, a troubled Priest must put his beliefs aside to befriend a mysterious prisoner, who has supernatural powers to communicate with the dead. Together they must solve the mystery of who murdered the Princes, as prisoners in the castle dungeon meet their bloody fates at the hands of the Princes' ghosts, who continue to haunt the Castle seeking their revenge."

-- EZ
​

So many movies ... so little time ...

On this day in 2020 (in the United Kingdom), audiences in attendance (virtually) of the Soho Horror Film Festival were treated to the theatrical debut of Vampire Virus.  Written (in part) and directed by Charlie Steeds, the film starred Natalie Martins, Derek Nelson, Jessica Alonso, and others. 

According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:

"A young woman contracts a deadly virus after an unusual sexual encounter, and soon develops a taste for human blood."

-- EZ
​

So many movies ... so little time ...

​On this day in 1973 (in Spain), Vengeance Of The Zombies (aka La rebelión de las muertas, aka Revolt Of The Dead Ones) came to life theatrically.  Directed by León Klimovsky from a story by Paul Naschy, the film starred Naschy alongside Romy, Mirta Miller, Maria Kosty, and others. 

According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:

"An Indian mystic uses magical chants to raise women from the dead, then sends them out to perform revenge killings for him."

-- EZ

So many movies ... so little time ...

On this day in 1996 (in the U.S.), the good people of New York City, New York were treated to the exclusive theatrical premiere of the Science Fiction / Comedy Multiplicity.  Directed by Harold Ramis from a story by Chris Miller, Mary Hale, Lowell Ganz, and Babaloo Mandel, the film starred Michael Keaton, Michael Keaton, Michael Keaton, Andie MacDowell, Zack Duhame, and others. 

According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:

"A family man who never has enough time for the things he wants to do takes advantage of the opportunity to have himself cloned."

-- EZ
​

So many movies ... so little time ...

On this day in 2017 (in the U.S.), the home video release of Land Shark proved to consumers that maybe all that fuss about fretting when it was safe to go back in the water was damn overrated!  Written and directed by Mark Polonia, the film starred Sarah French, Peter Baldo, Elissa Dowling, and others. 

According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:

"Lucinda Regis, Director of Development at MALCO Oceanic Research, becomes the target of a dangerous killer after unraveling a sinister plot to inject sharks with human DNA."

-- EZ
​

​(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“In 2063, desperate for a solution to save humanity from a global holy war, the world's governing bodies establish a fierce martial-arts tournament to determine a champion whose faith will govern humanity and restore peace for the future.”
 
Don’t let your eyes fool you, folks: when everything you see tells you that you’re watching a B-Movie, then you’d better believe it!
 
Now, that isn’t intended as any insult because – let’s all be perfectly honest with one another – there are a great many B-Movies out there that cultures around the world embrace and embrace mightily.  Though the prospects may not seem so promising today, who knows what the next generation or the one after that might think about a feature as – ahem – as bland and uninteresting as Absolute Dominion (2025) is to us today.  It hits a lot of cultural buttons, making statements about combat, religion, politics, family, etc., and yet it kinda/sorta fails to really stake out any central message other than always bet on the underdog.  That alone might be a sentiment worth saving the picture for our grandchildren or our grandchildren’s grandchildren, so I’ll say what I think and leave this one’s prospects for the future to those yet to come.
 
Up front, everything about the picture gives it the narrative structure of, say, a lazy man’s Mortal Kombat, a 1995 flick that saw the fate of the world at large resting in the hands of combatants from opposing dimensions facing off in the brackets to end all brackets.  Dominion doesn’t span nearly as far – instead of the galaxy being at risk, this one centers chiefly on our Big Blue Marble – and it puts our future squarely in the hands of humans alone.  Rather than throwing down against champions with special powers or multiple limbs, Dominion requires that the major and minor religions around the world select one combatant to represent their respective faith; and then – presumably – whoever wins gets to determine what belief system will govern these united nations until the same time next year when it all takes place yet again.  I think it’s all meant to be a bit dystopian in tone, but the fact that we’re never really treated to what affect these tournaments have on Planet Earth suggests that maybe not even writer/director Lexi Alexander wanted to put that much thought into it.
 
Indeed, Dominion tries very hard to muster up the likes of such recent societal spectacles as The Hunger Games (2012), The Maze Runner (2014), or even Allegiant (2016), but when your production budget can only afford – ahem – actor, comedian, and podcaster Patton Oswalt for name and face recognition, the future doesn’t look so bright that you’re likely wear shades.  At this price point, you’ll be lucky if you can afford them!  Bill & Ted alumnus Alex Winter shows up in a small role (also with producer responsibilities); and while actress Julie Ann Emery isn’t exactly a household name hers was a face I recognized.  The two of them do the best they can – Winter as a thoughtful scientist responsible for engineering Sagan Bruno (played by Désiré Mia) to be the lean, mean, and somewhat Christian fighting machine while Emery mostly chews scenery as the resident matriarch/badass trying to save civilization from chaos – but so little of the plotline evolves organically that neither gets the traction required to evoke true emotional possibilities.
 
As I said above, Sagan is the genetically perfect specimen who has been assembled and psychologically programmed to represent … well … let’s call it ‘Anti-Faith.’  Emerging from a conglomerate run by scientists and big thinkers, he’s meant to be society’s wild card within the tournament, showing that spirituality and religion are no longer needed in order to be considered among the best of the best.  Well, the central MacGuffin here is that Sagan privately finds himself plagued by brief periods of catatonic blackout in which – believe it or not – he thinks he’s hearing the voice of God.  (This gets a bit confusing in the second half when even he admits it may all be an auditory hallucination.)  Naturally, this is meant to give his character the dimension it needs beyond simply serving as a brawler; but Mia’s skills in that respect are – ahem – really sorely lacking.  In fact, so many folks alongside the relative screen newcomer wind up mumbling their dialogue through a great deal of the picture, so much so that I’m hoping that producers asked for the salaries of the sound crew to be returned.

Furthermore, Dominion remains heavily weighted down by the fact that it’s utterly and patently predictable, probably because it relies so heavily on stealing ideas that have already been done before in the aforementioned theatrical Young Adult novel adaptations.  Literally, everything in here has been done before, leaving the end result so strikingly unoriginal and uninspired I would be surprised to see it subject to copyright violations, starting with the gaily-flamboyant broadcasting personnel down to the scheming control booth know-nothings.  Aside from the only real unique twist – that being of our leading clone kinda/sorta discovering he might have a soul – the story progresses exactly as anyone expects.  One by one, the competitors are dispatched, and Sagan learns that there are a few challengers he can still trust outside the squared circle … or circled square … it’s a little of both here.  Yes, eventually, he makes it to the Big Event … and, yes, it ends precisely the way you suspected it would, although Alexander sadly leaves it up to you and me to figure out how much of Sagan’s holiness was real or simply a product of our own hopeful imagination.
 
Honestly, I kept hoping for some spark to elevate the mundanity of the entire presentation.  Effects work – what there is – is nothing to “write home about,” and the performances all tend to be very low key and uninspired.  One would think that a script involving, say, the various passions of the Christ, Allah, Bill Gates, and/or whoever else might be High and Mighty would be a bit more enthusiastic, but there’s not an ounce of authentic belief anywhere to be seen in this 100-minute running time.  Hell, even the scientists don’t seem all that scienc-y!  Alexander’s inability to effectively frame shooting scenes also doesn’t help viewers get inspired by any of the imagery: I lost count of the number of close-ups wherein the actor or actress were staged so far out of center that I wasn’t sure what I was to be looking at.  All of this is plagued by so much amateurish cinematography I began to wonder myself if maybe that was an act of God.
 
Minimally, I show up to a fight movie because of the fisticuffs, but even on that front Dominion underperforms.  What looks like some major martial arts match-ups boil down to many wrestling-style moves, pitting this somewhere closer to mixed martial arts than I think many will expect.  But when you see the brawlers ducking away well before their opponents’ kicks are in the air?  Well, that assures me that it’s all been so choreographed and rehearsed that the adrenaline rush viewers get from a real fight wasn’t important to be preserved.  This one falls flat … with a resounding thud … whether that was scripted or not.
 
Absolute Dominion (2025) was produced by Ajnabi Productions, Blumhouse Television, and Trouper Productions.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Giant Pictures (is my best guess).  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I’ll admit that it’s very difficult to find much position to say about the sights and sounds, given that nothing is handled with any degree of excellence much less competence.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Alas … there’s nada.  But maybe – in this case – that’s not so awful.
 
Alas … only Mildly (very mildly) Recommended.
 
Though I held back laughs where none were clearly intended, I still expected to be humbly entertained by Absolute Dominion (2025), and I just wasn’t.  Performances are bland – as are pretty much all of the fights – and there’s absolutely no last significance to anything here that’s scripted for the small cast of players.  Far too much of the world requires heavy, heavy exposition by the people in it; and I grew tired of waiting for them to fill me in enough so that I could sufficiently care about who they were, what they were doing, and what the real stakes were.  A big miss, one that will likely be the answer to no one’s prayer.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Allied Vaughn provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Absolute Dominion (2025) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the 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:
“A delicious, mysterious goo that oozes from the earth is marketed as the newest dessert sensation, but the tasty treat rots more than teeth when zombie-like snackers who only want to consume more of the strange substance at any cost begin infesting the world.”
 
On the one hand, The Stuff is a movie difficult to love because the vast majority of it is shrouded in ambiguity.  Though we know where The Stuff comes from, there’s never any explanation for why it exists.  Though we see people and animals eating it, we’re never quite assured of exactly what its doing to those bodies and minds.  Though there are strong suggestions that it’s somehow taking over our brains, the script lacks any cogent explanation of what its motivation or end strategy could possibly be.  While undoubtedly Cohen scores points about commercialism and consumerism throughout the 90-minute running time, we’re still left with the somewhat tired and predictable cautionary ‘be careful what you wish for’ moral of the story; and – ahem – haven’t we been here before?
 
On the other hand, The Stuff rather effectively throws barb after barb about just how crass and uninformed we’ve become as a society.  So long as something looks good, tastes great, and maybe even helps us get through the day, we’ll put damn near anything into our tummies, never once really stopping to consider the long much less the short-term effects.  Because Cohen’s done this kind of thing before – 1976’s God Told Me To distressingly skewers those who engage in blind faith as well as savages religious extremism as a means to an end – I suspect that’s territory he felt most comfortable with in delivering the final cut of The Stuff to theaters, so be thankful that – minimally – the central goal is achieved.
 
However, I’ve read (and heard, now) that the writer/director initially delivered a much longer cut to New World Pictures that apparently studio executives balked at.  From what I understand, Cohen completed something he describes as “more dense and sophisticated” when all the suits were hoping for was a traditional Horror effort.  (This being the mid-1980’s and Horror statistically always being a safe bet if it had a strong narrative hook, who could blame them?)  Frankly, I’d love to see what ended up on the cutting room as this completed endeavor tastes more like one of those semi-addictive concoctions the auteur is lampooning: it’s far too light, it’s far too sugary, it goes down way too easily, and it’ll likely be forgotten when the next big thing comes along.
​

For what it’s worth, that’s the real shame to all of The Stuff.
 
Under Cohen’s direction, the shortened version is still a modestly entertaining feature.  Certainly, it’s not big, bold, and brash the way a typical studio Hollywood blockbuster might approach the subject matter; but it’s still clinically efficient in smaller, restrained ways.  Though the film is easily plagued with some subpar effects work and maybe a few schlocky if not nonsensical performances, there remains a short but loud parade of ideas.  The script comments on many, many aspects of social structures be they family structures, government oversight, addiction, individuality, conformity, and more.  Some of the observations could’ve used a bit more depth – that’s usually the case when social commentary enters the more mainstream efforts of Horror – but the remarks are still there … and they’re quite prescient. 
 
Thankfully, Arrow Films is righting that wrong with this 2025 release, a two-disc set that includes both the theatrical version as well as that pre-release edit that allegedly was located in 2021.  Having just sat through both, I can assure you that – unquestionably – the longer film (just under two hours) is the better incarnation of this story.  Yes, it still kinda/sorta misses the boat in clarifying precisely where The Stuff comes from; but the additional scenes do flesh out the relationships between the principle characters, give some greater subtext to actions taking place, and – in minor ways – just how pervasive the effects the horrifically delicious goo is on the afflicted.  As can happen with some yarns, it does run a bit long in certain sequences; and, yet, I’d rather watch something closer to what the storyteller intended than a shortened studio edit almost every time it’s offered.
 
David ‘Mo’ Rutherford (played by Michael Moriarty) is a former FBI Agent turned industrial espionage specialist who is among the elite of the elite at his craft.  When the ice cream industry suddenly finds itself losing to its competition in the dessert industry to a newly-launched delicacy called, simply, ‘The Stuff,’ they’ll stop at nothing to get their hands on the recipe in hopes that they’ll find some evidence to bring the new supplier to its knees.  Naturally, Rutherford takes the case, thinking that such an exposé should be easy pickings for a man of his talents.  Lo and behold, he finds only an endless trails of unanswerable questions upon his first inspection, forcing him onto the less conventional path of seducing the company’s marketing genius Nicole (Andrea Marcovicci) in order to get closer to his ultimate goal.  It doesn’t take long before even she realizes things are amiss; and she willing joins him in the quest to expose her employer for dealing with one of the most dangerous creations ever sold in stores!
​

Moriarty makes for a likable though occasionally confusing lead.  The actor has mastered the art of the Southern drawl, and he uses it expertly in order to get Mo into the good graces of those he encounters, be it corporate executives, government operatives, and even the loose cannon of a U.S. militia commander – Col. Malcolm Spears (Paul Sorvino) – he needs to bring The Stuff’s distribution system down.  The last is a somewhat convenient development – the kind that could’ve used a bit of foreshadowing to make it feel a bit less forced – but it’s handled with a healthy dose of comedy, clearly signaling on even Cohen’s part that not a great deal of this is to be taken seriously.  The Stuff is satire – not necessarily comic in origins – and it uses a few laughs to make the breadth of the whole affair work.
 
Marcovicci – while good – is a bit underwritten, and some of this simply comes from the fact that more often than not the parts of females get a bit restricted to being central victims in the Horror genre.  Cohen’s a smart enough storyteller to give her a bit more to do; and yet the film is also plagued with a few moments that has her kinda/sorta flirting in order to accomplish what she needs and even uncharacteristically falling in love far too quickly with the available wealthy adult male that Rutherford is.  Still, the lady hits her marks nicely, so much so that I’m a bit surprised she never found wider employment in movies.  I’ve read that she’s reserved her talents a bit more in professional nightclubs and the like, so perhaps these few screen stops were all she had time for.  That’s our loss.
 
Furthermore, The Stuff rounds out the leads with newcomer Scott Bloom occupying the role of young Jason, a child inevitably separated from his family once they’ve been consumed by their dependence upon The Stuff.  His is a very solid B-storyline that eventually blends into the main source of the action roughly at the picture’s midpoint: as a budding young adventurer, he joins forces with Mo and Nicole mostly because he can serve as a first-person witness to the dangers of the digestible narcotics available in grocery stores.  Indeed, he spends his half of the flick waging a one-man campaign – erm … one-kid campaign? – trying to alert those around him to the growing threat but – as he’s a child – he gets no one to listen.  Still, once The Stuff knows that Jason is out there, even that delirious gunk will stop at nothing to mesmerize the boy.
 
As an ensemble, each character has a part to play, and Cohen truly balances the whole shebang out quite nicely.  The 1980’s being what they were theatrically it wasn’t uncommon for younger actors and actresses to find themselves much more centerstage in genre productions; and The Stuff – as a film – definitely fits into the era as one more example of young and old working collaboratively to save the day.  Sure, some of it can play a bit cringey by comparison to modern efforts; but it’s all swallowed quite well (snicker snicker) here because it’s more comic than treacherous.  Mind you: The Stuff wants to rattle your brain, but it never appears in any form that I couldn’t chuckle at afterward.  What can I say?  I just have issues taking food threats that seriously.
​

The Stuff (1985) was produced by Larco Productions.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to this restoration very good, but there are a few sequences with a great deal of grain.  (I’m well aware that this is owed to issues with the source material, but it’s still worth mentioning.)  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  This is Arrow, so it’s a wonderful collection.  In order to be fair, I’m doing the reliable copy-and-paste from the company’s previously published press release with a few observations to follow:
 
DISC ONE - 4K BLU-RAY

• NEW4K RESTORATION FROM THE ORIGINAL CAMERA NEGATIVE by Arrow Films
• DOLBY VISION/HDR PRESENTATION OF THE FILM
• Original lossless English 1.0 mono audio
• Optional English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing
• Brand new audio commentary by writers and critics David Flint and Adrian Smith
• Archival audio commentary by writer/director Larry Cohen
• Can't Get Enough of The Stuff: Making Larry Cohen's Classic Creature Feature, a documentary featuring Larry Cohen, producer Paul Kurta, actress Andrea Marcovicci, mechanical makeup effects artist Steve Neill and critic Kim Newman
• Enough is Never Enough, a newly edited featurette featuring previously unseen interviews with director Larry Cohen and producer Paul Kurta, originally shot for the 2017 documentary King Cohen
• 42nd Street Memories: The Rise and Fall of America's Most Notorious Street, a feature-length documentary exploring the history of New York City's infamous 42nd Street, with first-hand accounts from an array of filmmakers, including Larry Cohen
• Trailers and TV spots
• King Cohen trailer
• Image gallery

DISC TWO - BLU-RAY: PRE-RELEASE VERSION [LIMITED EDITION EXCLUSIVE]

• An early, pre-release cut of the film featuring over 30 minutes of additional footage and a different music score, exclusively remastered by Arrow Films
• High-Definition presentation
• Original lossless English 1.0 mono audio
• Optional English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing

PLUS:

• Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Chris Barnes
• Illustrated collector's booklet featuring writing on the film by Joel Harley and a new essay by Daniel Burnet

​

I have heard Cohen on a commentary track before, but he seemed a bit quite here.  Some of this might be owed to the reality of having his work kinda/sorta butchered in the truncated and inferior theatrical release, but I’d be remiss if I failed to mention he occasionally sounds uninterested.  Flint and Smith’s commentary starts good, but somewhere around the midpoint the two seem to lose focus, and their conversation spirals into areas that, too, I just find all that relevant.  Frankly, the documentaries were much more entertaining even though they, too, travel the gamut a bit, addressing this film as well as other Cohen-related efforts.  It’s a great assortment nonetheless, and I encourage those of you seriously interested to pick up this release.
 
Also, as I’m only provided a copy of the discs themselves, I cannot speak to the efficacy of the associated booklets, artwork, inserts, and whatnot.  In those instances, I always caution readers with the old adage: “Buyer beware.”
 
Recommended.
 
1985’s The Stuff is an oddity even amongst the many works of Larry Cohen.  To me, it feels a bit more commercial than some of everything else he did; but it never quite rises to the level of a reputable B-Movie production except when dealing with that sugary concoction for which all of this madness is titled.  Because so much of it just grazed the target, it’s hard to give this as strong an endorsement as I think others will.  While it’s the perfect late-night movie – the kind of thing you find on a channel and tune in more as a curiosity than anything else – it still lacks that something extra – a key scene, a bigger performance, or some special effects wizardry – to make it extraordinary.  There’s probably a cult following out there somewhere regardless, and I think Arrow’s release might whet their appetite for a bit more of The Stuff.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films and MVD Entertainment provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of The Stuff (1985) 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
​