One of my favorite sites to check out weekly is none other than Blu-ray.Com.  Basically, I'll scan their reviews from time-to-time, but honestly what I go there for most is the weekly recounting of what's upcoming and/or new to the home video release markets.  So I may start covering a few of the SciFi and Fantasy releases on a semi-regular basis as time permits.

In any event, one of the titles I see streeting today is none other than 1986's The Wraith.  This one sprang from the imagination of Mike Marvin, who wrote and directed it as only his second big budget production.  It stars a young Charlie Sheen, the beautiful Sherilyn Fenn, the reliable Clint Howard, and a host of other folks big and small.  It screened theatrically, but I don't recall this one making any big noise at the domestic box office.  Seems to me it kinda/sorta came-and-went pretty quickly.

If I remember correctly, I first saw this one on pay cable back in the day.  It was the sort of release that did find some buzz there at the time -- seems to me it played endlessly for a short time -- largely riding on the back of Sheen's positive press.  I don't remember it all that much -- seemed like a teen-set, high-tech revamping of 1985's Pale Rider (with Clint Eastwood) where a mysterious 'man from beyond' came back looking for vengeance upon those who'd done him wrong whilst he was flesh and blood.  I do remember liking the car -- it was some experimental souped-up sport model that gave Charlie what he needed to get the job done.

So there you go.  This isn't the film's first release on home video (I think I did some reading yesterday and found that even most of the special features for this release have been ported over from an earlier one), but if it's of interest to you then hop over to Amazon.com and make yourself a purchase.  Great price, if you can get it.

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

​-- EZ

Ah, I do so love classic Science Fiction films.

To be perfectly honest, I think I continue to love older films over newer ones mostly because these vintage flicks kinda/sorta had to accomplish a whole lot with a whole little: these producers didn't have a veritable cavalry of special effects houses they could go knocking on doors when they needed to put something new and different on the silver screen.  In the past, they had to find a way to do that, and often times that meant coming up with a brand-new solution for a problem they created themselves.

As a consequence, I think I can appreciate more of the story because I know much of what they produced was the best they could achieve in that day and age.  Their stories were a bit plainer, true, but what they couldn't put up in lights no one else could either; and this pushed some of these storytellers to be true pioneers in an age that didn't so openly reward them for doing so.

Well, I don't want this to devolve into another of my popular rants amounting to little more than this old man yelling "get off my lawn," so I'll instead just get to the point: this October, the ground-breaking The Incredible Shrinking Man is coming to Criterion for an all-new release with some spiffy extras.  I saw the post for its impending availability over on Blu-ray.Com, and I thought it appropriate to copy and paste the particulars they were provided from Criterion below and included the link for those interested in checking out their site for posterity's sake.  You'll find other motion pictures also in the pipeline, but as they've little to do with Science Fiction and/or Fantasy I'll let you read about them over there instead of over here.

Here's the straight skinny as I care:

Description: Existentialism goes pop in this benchmark of atomic-age science fiction, a superlative adaptation of a novel by the legendary Richard Matheson that has awed and unnerved generations of viewers with the question, What is humanity's place amid the infinity of the universe? Six months after being exposed to a mysterious radiation cloud, suburban everyman Scott Carey (Grant Williams) finds himself becoming smaller . . . and smaller . . . and smaller—until he's left to fend for himself in a world in which ordinary cats, mousetraps, and spiders pose a mortal threat, all while grappling with a diminishing sense of himself. Directed by the prolific creature-feature impresario Jack Arnold with ingenious optical effects and a transcendent metaphysical ending, The Incredible Shrinking Man gazes with wonder and trepidation into the unknowable vastness of the cosmic void.

Special Features and Technical Specs:

• NEW 4K RESTORATION OF THE FILM, with uncompressed monaural soundtrack
• New audio commentary featuring genre-film historian Tom Weaver and horror-music expert David Schecter
• New program on the film's special effects by effects experts Craig Barron and Ben Burtt
• New conversation between filmmaker Joe Dante and comedian and writer Dana Gould
• Auteur on the Campus: Jack Arnold at Universal (Director's Cut) (2021)
• Interview from 2016 with Richard Christian Matheson, novelist and screenwriter Richard Matheson's son
• Interview with director Jack Arnold from 1983
• 8 mm home-cinema version from 1957
• Trailer and teaser narrated by filmmaker Orson Welles
• PLUS: An essay by critic Geoffrey O'Brien

STREET DATE: OCTOBER 19.

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

​-- EZ

​I’ve always argued that the very best creature features are founded on the basis of evoking the audience’s sympathy for the devil … well, sympathy for the monster, that is.
 
This came to me originally as a little guy when I watched 1931’s Frankenstein for the very first time.  While others were dumbstruck by the seeming ruthlessness of that lumbering giant, I couldn’t help but wrestle with the idea that plagues every one of us at some time in our lives: namely, “I didn’t ask to be born this way.”  Dr. Frankenstein’s singular creation is perhaps the finest cinematic example of that psychological hang-up, cobbled together surgical as it is with an assortment of spare parts, hand-me-down clothing, and an inferior brain.  It’s only natural that the monster would eventually rebel (every teenager does), and it suffered the ignominious fate at the hands of some truly unsympathetic citizens.
 
Such is the framework for every successful monster movie.  The creature from the black lagoon just wanted to swim, but mankind intruded upon his territory.  Godzilla was just a wayward reptile until scientists began flirting with atomic energy.  Even King Kong himself – the eighth wonder of the world – was only looking to hang loose with the natives while enjoying the occasional sexual arousal compliments of Fay Wray, Jessica Lange, or Naomi Watts – good choices, respectively – when capitalism saw fit to put him on a stage where promoters could make a buck.  Heartbreak (of a sort) befalls each of these supreme beings, and our sympathy for them makes us universally root for the underdog even though the underdog itself would probably devour us whole were the shoe on the other foot.
 
2021’s Jakob’s Wife is another variation on the traditional monster movie, and its biggest twists are that it deposits its creature in the veritable heartland of America (the classic small town), in the guise of a quintessentially American role (a preacher’s wife), and in the face of Barbara Crampton (one of the silver screen’s loveliest scream queens).
 
Get ready to have your heart stolen yet again.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for my final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the product packaging:
“Anne is married to a small-town minister and feels like her life and marriage have been shrinking over the past 30 years.  After a chance encounter with ‘The Master,’ she discovers bite marks on her neck, a new sense of power and an appetite to live bigger and bolder than ever.  As Anne is increasingly torn between her enticing new existence and her life before, the body count grows and Jakob realizes he will have to fight for the wife he took for granted.”
 
Last week, I penned a review on Crampton’s work and her continued elegance in filmdom’s best B-Movies (available here), and I wanted to put up a bit more about Jakob’s Wife as I found it a powerful independent feature deserving of more reflection.  As this disk streets tomorrow (07/20/2021), I couldn’t think of a better time to post some additional thoughts on it and maybe encourage readers to seek out and explore this one for its entertainment value.
 
For what it’s worth, I’ve never much thought of vampires as traditional monsters, not so much akin to Frankensteins, werewolves, zombies, or ghosts.  What I’ve always thought makes them different is that at the core they’re still ‘humans’ of a sort: many a vamp has the same motivations they’ve lived with all their lives even after they’re transformed.  What evokes my sympathy?  Well, because they’re now essentially immortal, they’re going to be dealing with things normally requiring therapy for a very, very, very long time instead of those of us who remain worldly.  Sure, I might be afraid of spiders, but that fear is of little consequence once I’m worm food.  Who knows?  Maybe I’ll even be spider food!
 
While Anne succumbs to the temptations of her immortality early in Jakob’s Wife, she inevitably reaches that epiphany reminding her that no blissfulness of longevity, no satiation of her ghastly hunger, no power over the powerless is going to replace her single driving motivation in life: she loves her husband, a somewhat simple, narrow-minded minister (played winningly by Larry Fessenden).  Despite the fact that he rarely notices her, her daily struggles, or even pain he might inflict upon her unintentionally, Anne continues to eke a living under the dourest circumstances.
 
But the beauty of good writing is that the epiphany of her awakening rebounds with equal measure by the unsuspecting pastor Jakob Fedder.
 
“What has come over the love of my life?” he wonders.  She’s suddenly glowing, practically incandescent, and outspoken.  Has she found someone else – the usual culprit in situations involving marriages that have perhaps outlived a usefulness – or has she given in to some other desire?  Naturally, this man of God wants to do the right thing as he’s preached to others for years, but he can’t easily turn the other cheek in matters of the heart.  Prompted by the advice of his brother, Jakob pursues the most logical course of investigation (Anne’s high school suitor has returned to town), only to realize suddenly that his wife is now drawn to the power of another master – this one a thing of the Undead – and he discovers that he’ll stop at nothing to save her immortal soul and even their eternal pairing.
 
At this point, Jakob’s Wife becomes a wonderfully shared journey, oft times punctuated by comic relief.  Each turn of Anne’s requires an equal response from Jakob.  She develops a hunger for blood, and he’s happy to see her fed.  When this feeding unlocks Anne’s sexual appetite, he’s even happier to see that fulfilled … right there on the dining room floor.  And when he decides that it’s time to sever the otherworldly connection between his wife and her ever-oppressing vampire master, Anne refuses to let her husband ‘go it alone,’ even fashioning her own stake to pierce its still-beating heart.
 
What would drive any sane man and woman apart only forces these two characters to work together, and this is because – despite the appearance early on that the love has dried out in their relationship – they’re only growing closer by embracing these new roles, these new challenges, and these new opportunities for intimacy.  As Anne continues to reject her long-served role in the community, Jakob does the same, growing a little less interested in the lives of his flock and a little more in preserving what made him a man in the first place: the love of a good woman.
 
It isn’t every monster movie that can sustain a commitment to love to justify the resulting bloodshed, but Jakob’s Wife succeeds on their strength of Crampton and Fessenden’s performances.  Besides, would it really be a match made in Heaven if only she knew where the bodies were buried?  Much like I felt sorry for Frankenstein, I rooted for the two of them to come together and prove once and for all that attraction knows no bounds.  That last frame?  Where Anne’s leaning into Jakob while he’s still clutching that stake (just out of her reach) yet professing his undying love for her?  It looks like they’re headed in the right direction … but we can only know for sure if we get a sequel.
 
Jakob’s Wife (2021) is produced by AMP International and Eyevox.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by RLJE Films.  As for the technical specifications?  There was a sequence wherein I noticed a drop in audio – not sure it was a production glitch or perhaps something “intended” by the storytellers – but it wasn’t a major distraction from the plot.  As for the special features?  Well … meh.  It would’ve been nice to have a bit more than some trimmed scenes and a five minute ‘making of’ that serves more like a bloated commercial, but it is what it is.  Seriously, it would’ve been nice to hear from Crampton as those of us who love her work don’t get to see her enough these days.
 
Recommended.  The dirty little secret of Jakob’s Wife ending is that we’ll never truly know whether or not ‘love triumphs all’ as it leaves you hanging on a last note suggesting that there’s more to this story … but there’s always more to every story!  What’s refreshing about this monster movie is that love isn’t the perennial B-story – as often happens to films of this type – but instead it’s up-front-and-center the entire time.  Anne loves her husband – despite the fact that she’s felt ignored for decades – and it’s this shared emotion that compels these two to put aside their differences, work together, vanquish an enemy, and (maybe) enjoy their golden years.  This isn’t ‘Beauty And The Beast’ for here ‘Beauty’ is the beast, and these two just might do anything for love even at the cost of their own souls.  That’s a metaphor we can all appreciate, especially in these troubled times.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at RLJE Films provided me with a complimentary DVD of Jakob’s Wife by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

As I’ve always argued, I think it’s fantastic when older films find new life.
 
It goes without saying that there are, literally, thousands upon thousands of flicks out there.  I can’t begin to imagine that a well-read film junkie like myself has even touched upon a mere one percent of them.  Granted, there’s no way that I could see everything that’s ever been produced – nor would I ever undertake such an exercise – but I’m certainly interested in Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror projects from these bygone eras sneaking back onto society’s radar when given the chance.  Believe it or not, there are some hidden gems out there – ones that have somehow escaped mention on SciFiHistory.Net, and I’m always on-the-lookout for ways to give them coverage, both on this MainPage as well as on the corresponding Daily Pages.

A rarity like 1981's Dead & Buried is just the kind of film that deserves a second look.
 
It isn’t all that often that a forty-year-old film gets an Ultra HD release with a whole lot of bells and whistles; and I suspect it’s even rarer for one to get such a release with four separate commentary tracks!  To be honest, four separate commentary tracks is practically unheard of for modern product releases – even the most popular titles – so I felt somewhat compelled as a consumer and reviewer to preview each of them over the past week.
 
The short skinny?
 
I’m not entirely convinced that I learned all that much collectively.  As you can imagine, there are a lot of facts repeated across the four commentaries – some of them from slightly differing perspectives, which was mildly enlightening.  As I can, I’ll still try to avoid spoilers as I know many readers do try to catch these films I highlight at their leisure; and I’d hate to spill the beans about something that could affect your enjoyment.  Suffice it to say, Dead & Buried has a good story with a great ending – the kind reminiscent of Rod Serling’s Night Gallery and The Twilight Zone or perhaps the films of M. Night Shyamalan – so I think it best to steer clear of those secrets for those uninitiated to the feature’s greatest charm … it’s last frame.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for my final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ read on …)
 
From the product packaging:
“Something very strange is happening in the quiet coastal village of Potters Bluff, where tourists and transients are warmly welcomed … then brutally murdered.  But even more shocking is when these slain strangers suddenly reappear as normal, friendly citizens around town …”
 
There’s a bit more, but as this review is chiefly focused on the disk’s four commentaries, I’ll leave it right there.  That’s all you really need to know heading into this one.  It’s a Horror film, with people dying horribly and coming back to life somehow, so pay close attention or you might miss a solid yarn about life, death, and other things that go bump in the night.
​

Commentary with director Gary Sherman
 
Recorded during a gathering celebrating the 20th anniversary of Dead & Buried, Sherman’s recall of the cast, crew, and process of assembling this ‘thinking man’s horror’ film is pretty solid.  He details how the feature started out as a black comedy, all the way up through its first cut; however, the effort was marred by behind-the-scenes shenanigans as the first production company was inevitably sold to another one that apparently then was bought out a third time.  This third entity was more interested in delivering a mainstream horror to the marketplace, so they demanded a different cut, one requiring reshoots incorporating more blood, scares, and carnage.  Sherman had little choice but to comply with their wishes, and he was assured that all prints of his first version were destroyed by the studio.
 
From this point, the director takes the viewer through his film, and he highlights specifically what changes he made, where these inserts occurred, and how some of the new edit required some of the tale’s sequences to be re-ordered.  I found this particularly helpful because his recounting actually answered some of the questions I had upon viewing the film for the first time – anyone watching closely might notice the face of one unfortunate soul living peacefully among Potters Bluff’s living zombies well before she’d been dispatched to the beyond!  This certainly shows that the production company was not interested in logic; all they wanted was to get the thrills and chills on the silver screen no matter what.
 
There are some other tidbits offered on the track, many of them focusing on some of the creative choices Sherman made both in conception and execution.  He talks about colors and the lack of sunlight frequently, and I think his observations do add to understanding why the film works well when it does and even why it fails to hit its mark in a few smaller places.  As you can guess, it’s easy to attribute the failures to an overzealous production company wanting a film different than what they received.

Commentary with Ronald Shusett (Co-Producer, Co-Writer) and Actress Linda Turley
 
In contrast to Sherman’s vivid talk, Shusett and Turley (his wife) end up touching more upon the relationships they made during the course of Dead & Buried’s production than anything else.  Both were obviously aware of the corporate going-ons – the husband more than the wife – but they assured that those dealings in no way affected the atmosphere on the set, which was very cordial and cooperative as everyone was corralled in and around Mendocino (CA) for the shoot.
 
There’s a fabulous little anecdote in their commentary relating to Dan O’Bannon’s work on the script and beyond.  (In another special feature on the disk, O’Bannon clarifies he essentially provided suggestions to what he felt the draft needed to be a better tale.)  As the story goes, it was O’Bannon who initially introduced Shusett to horror (as a genre), and this is why Shusett felt it prudent to get his partner’s input on Dead & Buried’s early script.  As fate would have it, O’Bannon was struggling with a narrative issue with his current draft of Alien; after Shusett helped him on that project, O’Bannon countered by agreeing to help Shusett with his problems on the script for Total Recall.  So in Shusett’s words, both the scripts for Alien and Total Recall were essentially hammered out in that one fateful day!
 
Otherwise, I found much of this commentary to be a bit of a snooze.  There are some discussions about the film’s pacing; and while Shusett acknowledges that the director’s first cut was a vastly greater film than what was eventually delivered he doesn’t draw any particular examples from his memory, making it just an opinion.  He also mentions that the feature’s novelization was released well before the film hit theaters, and he suggests that having the surprise ending spoiled in print probably hurt its box office performance.  I’d have to agree.

Commentary with Steven Poster, ASC (Director Of Photography)
 
Typical to other discussions I’ve heard with photographers, Poster ends up spending a fair amount of time talking about shot construction, creative choices, and the structure of long takes.  (Dead & Buried is filled with long sequences, similar to the films of Alfred Hitchcock and some early John Carpenter stuff.)  As is also common, he’s quick to point out errors in specific shots, and he even talks to a lesser degree how some of these inadequacies get ‘corrected’ either in post-production or in later reformatting for DVD release.
 
As for his memory of the production, it’s very good.  He mentions that one of the flick’s longer sequences was shot on the set of TV’s long-running family drama The Waltons (the nighttime barn set); and he talks about how they brought in effects specialist Bill Hansard to coordinate the masterful string of shots involving film being played within the film, a narrative technique he specializes in.  Poster even mentions that one of the rats from a small sequence within Dead & Buried was actually one to play ‘Williard’ in the seminal 1971 horror film of the same name.
 
In his closing, the photographer divulged that he disagreed with a few of Sherman’s visual choices (one involving the film’s secret reveal especially), but – all-in-all – he recalls a good time and even laughs when remembering how the film processing company’s representative called him in shock over Dead’s signature eye-poking scene.  “They thought it was real, and the technicians apparently ran out of the room in terror!”

Commentary with Film Historians Troy Howarth and Nathaniel Thompson
 
Now, for the record, I have no problem with “film historians.”  In fact, if my academic career had continued the way I had originally plotted it out, then that’s likely a role I would’ve turned up in gladly.  But the drawback on hiring them to provide commentary to a forty-year-old film is that – unless they’ve really done their research – they’re going to provide no substantial recounting on the making of said film.  They weren’t there.  They didn’t experience it firsthand.  What they can share are the facts as they’ve come to know them … and, sadly, that’s the case here.  Howart and Thompson spend the bulk of the experience bandying about their respective knowledge (impressive nonetheless) of Horror, trends, celebrities, and the like.  At times, it seemed like they were trying to one-up each other, but it all remained cordial.  While some of it is interesting, I honestly found little of it having anything to do with Dead & Buried.
 
Still, I think what these two achieve best in their talk – this happens several times throughout their 90-minute visit – is they draw comparisons between Dead and other horror films of its era and just beyond.  In doing so, they highlight how Sherman’s picture was not so much a product of its time but perhaps served to influence others who followed in similar creative paths.  In other words, did the infamous ‘needle in the eye’ image sway the manner in which later directors accomplished similar sequences?  There’s no way to know definitively (well, not unless someone cops to it), but throughout these two pepper the chat with some interesting speculation.
 
Also, I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that I believe their commentary track was the only “contemporary” one on the disk: unless I’m mistaken, Sherman, Shusett, and Poster’s were recorded somewhere about 2000-2002 (there’s some vague mention to that 20-year anniversary but nothing solid), while Howarth and Thompson could’ve been logged theirs within the past year.  One of them (Howarth, I believe) was either very poorly miked or simply spoke far too fast too often for his own good; I had to ‘rewind’ the track several times.  Only upon several attempts could I decipher what he said.  It’s distracting, but – like them – I’m a purist.  So sue me.
​

Dead & Buried (1981) was produced by Aspen Productions; distribution for this particular release is being coordinated by Blue Underground.  As for the technical specifications?  It all looks and sounds solid from start-to-finish.  This new restoration is fabulous.  As for the special features?  Yowza.  There’s a treasure trove here – some of it honestly a bit repetitive – and I’ll be doing a separate review relating specifically to the (almost unheard of) four different commentary tracks.  Otherwise, there are a handful of making-of featurettes, trailers, still galleries, interviews, the soundtrack CD, and a collectible booklet featuring a brand-new essay from journalist and screenwriter Michael Gingold of Fangoria Magazine fame.  Seriously, you couldn’t ASK for a better collection of materials; and those interested in this type of thing will be busy for hours.
 
Recommended.  As commentary tracks go, Dead & Buried’s four might be a bit of overkill: the viewer has to wade through some repetitive information, but each speaker presents a varying measure of value.  If anecdotes are your pleasure, then lean heavily into the first three; you’ll no doubt learn something about the early days of special effects wizard Stan Winston’s budding career!  While the historians don’t quite address the immediate subject, it’s still worth the pleasure to those who like boundless trivia across the Horror spectrum.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Blue Underground provided me with a 4K Ultra HD + Blu-ray + CD copy of Dead & Buried by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ

Here’s the thing about all of those 80’s B-Movies that, most likely, your average 80’s B-Movie fan won’t tell you, but dear ol’ dad will: they didn’t mean much.
 
Don’t misunderstand: I’m not harping on the great cinema entries from the late 1970’s or the early-to-mid 1980’s.  There are many truly good motion pictures from that epoch that touched a nerve – albeit briefly in the grand scope of things – and are revered today, some so much so that they get rebooted.  But many of them were little more than exploitative fare meant to highlight how films could capitalize on their ability to shock an audience.  They underscored how watching a 90-minute yarn could be a visceral experience, one meant to shock or thrill or disturb or reduce you to fright-filled tears.  These weren’t Award-winning films, though I suspect a few of them captured a trophy from some obscure art society or review board.  Mostly, these films just came and went, and that was largely owed to the fact that rentals and retailers wanted something fresh, new, and different to hawk to their customers next Friday or Saturday night.
 
Think of them as ‘disposable art,’ and you’re probably not all that far off the beaten path.
 
What did have potential to last longer were the men and women telling these stories.  Some of them were actors and actresses.  Some were directors.  Some were screenwriters.  For example, Joel and Ethan Coen – two of the bigger names in Hollywood – kinda/sorta dropped onto the scene with a B-Movie noir called Blood Simple (1984).  Academy Award nominee John Sayles penned the script that would become Roger Corman’s Battle Beyond The Stars (1980), a space-based knock-off of Akira Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai (1954) if there ever were.  Another name to emerge from that flick?  James Cameron.  He toiled behind-the-scenes on the effects and production details and – some have argued – directing.
 
As the B-Movie era moved along, the features grew a bit more perplexing, a bit bloodier, but no less inventive.  Some of the titles – The Toxic Avenger (1985) and Class Of Nuke ‘Em High (1986) – came from the same label: Troma Pictures enjoyed incredible success tapping this vein of oddball visuals, pulpy performances, and bargain basement production.  Their titles live on even today with their own streaming outlet.  (At least, the last I checked, it was still churning out flicks for subscribers.)  And that brings me to Empire International Pictures, an outfit which lasted only a scant five years but produced some of the decade’s most popular stuff.  Trancers (1984), Re-Animator (1985), From Beyond (1986), and Robot Jox (1989) were video store staples, the kind of releases that home audiences would watch again and again and again.  These are titles that are still being discovered today …
 
… And that brings me to one of my favorite actresses to come on the scene in those days, the lovely Barbara Crampton.  This award-winning Thespian was in many of the great B-Movies of the 80’s and 90’s.  In fact, I’d argue she did most of the best acting featured in any of them!  (Can you tell I’m biased?)  As one of the most recognizable faces in these second-tiered films, her participation in any project carried a certain guarantee: if she was in it, it was worth watching, even if only once.  Features that otherwise would’ve been forgotten were elevated to prominence by her mere presence, and she put her skills to great use whenever called upon in every project I’ve had the good fortune to view.
 
You can’t imagine how reassuring I find it that today, decades after she first dazzled us in lights, she’s doing much the same in a little something something I received in the mail: Jakob’s Wife – as imperfect as it is – is still a better film with her presence.  Let me tell you why.
​

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

​​From the product packaging:
“Anne is married to a small-town minister and feels like her life and marriage have been shrinking over the past 30 years.  After a chance encounter with ‘The Master,’ she discovers bite marks on her neck, a new sense of power and an appetite to live bigger and bolder than ever.  As Anne is increasingly torn between her enticing new existence and her life before, the body count grows and Jakob realizes he will have to fight for the wife he took for granted.”
 
Vampire films are near-and-dear to me.  They always have been.  In fact, I revere the whole vampire subculture of film and books so much I’ve researched and written my own novel (Rainville) which I promote from time-to-time in this space.  I’ve always thought that there was something intriguing about being blessed with the gift of eternal life while simultaneously being cursed with living those years out as a monster, and I suspect many storytellers are drawn to this world for much the same reason.
 
Jakob’s Wife – written-in-part and directed by Travis Stevens – never quite goes hard-core vamp the way the bloodier pictures of the 80’s did.  There are some kills, sure, but they’re all quite tame by comparison to Near Dark (1987) or From Dusk Til Dawn (1996).  Even 2008’s Let The Right One In capitalized on the gore in a horrific sequence or two, but Jakob’s Wife never quite reaches that mark of glorifying the bloodshed, instead producing maybe a few unintended chuckles at some laughable blood spray.  Here, when The Master or one under his tutelage go to work, seemingly ever drop in the victim’s body gushes out in a matter of seconds; and, yes, I couldn’t help but snicker.  (I’m assuming they were underfunded in the effects department.)
 
Now, I suspect part of this lack of attention to gory detail may be owed to Wife’s narrative focus: yes, Anne Fedder is in the process of transforming into a bloodsucker, but what Stevens and co-scripters Kathy Charles and Mark Steensland chose as the center of their tale is the role a woman plays in life.  In other words, maybe the whole ‘turning into a monster’ was the picture’s true B-plot while what truly mattered was an examination of gender in today’s culture.  Filmmakers, in particular, are very sneaky about slipping in ideas where angels fear to tread; and with issues like female empowerment being increasingly in our headlines in the modern #MeToo era, I’d be a fool if I didn’t point out what stuck with me after the credits rolled was our lead character’s emotional dilemma.
​

As many of us opine, life is not about big moments, though we do spend an inordinate amount of time preserving those bits on film for posterity.  But a life truly lived is far more about the little moments – those precious seconds and minutes when we’re merely existing as a participant in something greater – and Jakob’s Wife is cleverly peppered with these from Anne’s perspective in a masterful set-up.  Anne is the quintessential second-class citizen.  No one – not even her husband, Jakob (played by Larry Fessenden) – cares what she thinks.  When she speaks, she’s constantly interrupted.  When she tries to offer advice, she’s spoken over.  When she exercises, it would appear she’s even ‘sweating to the Oldies’ on autopilot.  Nothing tips her scales.  Nothing lights her fires.  Clearly, the drive to live (and live well) has escaped her; and despite the obvious indications of depression no one around her notices.  Her little moments are punctuated by glassy-eyed stares and self-curtailed expression, and that’s no way for anyone to live.
 
As much as I’d like to praise Crampton for her work as she descends into the madness of being a monster, I’d rather sing a song about how she deftly maneuvers through this film’s opening moments.  Here, she displays a grasp of nuance that can only be mastered with age and work, two things she has decidedly in her favor.  It’s so easy to see her as a put-upon wife that audiences are probably rooting for her to succumb to The Master’s wishes and embrace her darker side – which she does to a degree – and that’s owed to some solid screenwriting and the actress’s skills.  Her transition?  Yeah.  It’s interesting.  It’s colorful.  True, I could watch her sipping blood from a chalice and slow dancing to Concrete Blonde’s “Bloodletting” for hours, as could any Crampton fan.  But it’s handled with some predictable aplomb and the proper hint of comedy, so much so that I wanted to honestly spend a bit more time with that dour frau from earlier.
 
Also, I think Anne’s transition arc gets bogged down by a script that unnecessarily wallows a bit too often in its empowerment messaging.  It’s clear that the preacher’s wife finds a different existence once she’s well on-the-road to becoming something undead, but – here’s the flaw in my book – ANYONE would suffer that same epiphany in those circumstances!  Here’s a woman who – for better or for worse – agreed to “for better or for worse” in a small town in the middle of nowhere; most folks I’ve met who reside under those circumstances knew full well what they’re getting into when they signed up for it.  It’s played here as a bit of a revelation – a screenwriter’s convenience – and I think that’s far from reality.  Anne’s lived the bulk of her adult life in service to a mortal man whose day job involves the ‘blood of Christ,’ so is there anyone in the audience who didn’t see that big ironic hook coming?  I doubt it.
 
There are some other jabs of the things Hollywood typically turns its nose up at (small town life, gung-ho cops, religion, and family), but I think Jakob’s Wife still succeeds largely on Crampton’s work here.  As she did in the 80’s and 90’s, she makes a film stronger by just being in it.  Let’s hope she eventually gets the attention both her and her characters deserve.
​

Jakob’s Wife (2021) is produced by AMP International and Eyevox.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by RLJE Films.  As for the technical specifications?  There was a sequence wherein I noticed a drop in audio – not sure it was a production glitch or perhaps something “intended” by the storytellers – but it wasn’t a major distraction from the plot.  As for the special features?  Well … meh.  It would’ve been nice to have a bit more than some trimmed scenes and a five minute ‘making of’ that serves more like a bloated commercial, but it is what it is.  Seriously, it would’ve been nice to hear from Crampton as those of us who love her work don’t get to see her enough these days.
 
Recommended.  While Jakob’s Wife doesn’t bring anything new to the vampire meal, I found most of it still bloody entertaining.  As an indie feature, it’s assembled quite nice; and its story hits a lot of relatable topics like love, lust, morality, and the like.  I’d encourage viewers not to make all that much out of the film’s female empowerment message as it’s incomplete, serves little purpose, and might only confuse more than it enlightens.  I think having three cooks in the kitchen didn’t serve the script as well as it should have, but it’s still nonetheless refreshing to see a workman-style production hit its marks and move along.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at RLJE Films provided me with a complimentary DVD of Jakob’s Wife by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

​I’m occasionally asked why I choose to cover some Horror releases (and not all) in this space on SciFiHistory.Net.  I guess it’s that some readers don’t see them as having much to do with Science Fiction or Fantasy, but in some cases I’d beg to differ.  Let me offer this explanation at this time as I think it relates directly to why a feature like 1981’s Dead & Buried catches my eye while others don’t.
 
Traditional slasher movies – the variety of which make up perhaps the core foundation of Horror – have no place ‘round these parts.  That isn’t to say I don’t watch them or chat them up from time-to-time, and it’s certainly not intended to be any reflection on their quality or place in film history; rather it’s the simple reality that there’s no element that ties those films to science, Science Fiction, or what’s considered traditional Fantasy.  Jason Voorhees’ ability to transcend death might be legendary (if not downright fantastical), but when all is said and done his story pretty much boils down to hack-and-slash.  Off with this guy’s head!  Out with this lady’s intestines!  Etc., etc., etc.  While creative butchery might dabble on the fringes of life sciences, it’s never a central tenet of what makes that narrative world go round, so I leave them alone.  Same with any of the Jason copycat films, of which there are many.  Same thing with the Saw films (I do agree with most who dub them ‘glorified torture porn,’ but that’s another argument).  And here’s looking at you, Driller-Killer: you’ll not find words exploring what you did with your free time on this site so long as I’m in charge.
 
But …
 
Stories that dabble with the in-between?  The possible existence of a life, love, and universe beyond the routine?  Could this be Heaven?  Could that be Hell?  The science of bringing back the dead?  (Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is credited by many to be the very first truly Science Fiction novel written.)  The structure of a virus that wipes out mankind?  Those films tie in (to a degree) with my personal definition of cinematic Fantasy, and I think they’re legitimately apt for a bit more exploration.  That’s why I’ll look them over and, occasionally, provide reviews, citations, interviews, and what not.
 
In many regards, I’ve found these films are usually not as popular with audiences as are the traditional Horror releases.  Their scripts require a bit more thought and preparation, and their execution may even require a bit more effort on the part of the audience to understand the small-scale world-building that takes place once the lights flicker and before they fade-to-black.  I’d stop short of calling them cerebral, but they certainly toy with ideas as much as they may with bloodshed, so there’s something to be said for going that extra mile.
 
And all of this brings me to unearthing just what’s so different about Dead & Buried …
​

​(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for my final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the product packaging:
“Something very strange is happening in the quiet coastal village of Potters Bluff, where tourists and transients are warmly welcomed … then brutally murdered.  But even more shocking is when these slain strangers suddenly reappear as normal, friendly citizens around town.  Now the local sheriff and an eccentric mortician must uncover the horrific secret of a community where some terrifying traditions are alive and well …”
 
Alas, it isn’t all that difficult to understand why Dead & Buried is an early 1980’s horror release that never quiet got the attention it deserved upon its original release.  Granted, it may’ve been shuffled around a bit as production companies behind it all changed ownership (a fact I learned from the disc’s multiple commentary tracks), but it lacked the star power to draw viewers to the theaters who may’ve been interested in this darkly comic look at life and death and life again.  Leading man James Farentino was no slouch, but he was hardly a marquee name.  The audience interested in the works of Jack Albertson may’ve been a bit older than horror films typically draw.  And Flash Gordon’s Melody Anderson’s star was just starting to truly twinkle, though it never really built luster the way many of us thought it would.
 
For what it’s worth, marketing probably did the film no favors, either.  As its creators were the same team behind the popular Alien (directed by Ridley Scott), the suits honed in on using that hook – “from the creators of Alien” – in their adverts, but anyone familiar with that deep space chiller may’ve wondered what could possibly be as creepy and horrific as the Xenomorph but set in some seaside town with Jack Albertson as the box office draw?!?!  It likely sounded a bit hard-to-swallow, and it may even have scared off more folks than it enticed.
​
In fact, it isn’t uncommon for films to fail to find success in their first flirtation with the bright lights in the big city.  Features like Dead & Buried aren’t exactly a dime a dozen, but their private and personal journeys to ‘cult status’ happens more and more these days as audiences abandon big tentpole releases in favor of finding something truly unique; in that measure, this one definitely qualifies.
​

Still, I’d caution those going in to Dead & Buried to not look too closely for all of it to make perfect sense.  (Hint: it doesn’t.)  Ronald Shusett and Dan O’Bannon’s script (based on a story from Jeff Millar and Alex Stern) isn’t exactly ‘science heavy’ and is more fantasy-driven; clearly, there’s some mystical power at work in these violent deaths and the victims’ reanimation, but it’s only suggested and never spelled out in black-and-white.  While one might argue that helps the web as spun, I’m the kind of person who prefers the storytellers minimally give some explanation – plausible or not – instead of dangling threads for the viewers to complete the tapestry on their own.  I’ve always dubbed that ‘lazy writing,’ and I probably will until the day I die … or quit watching films.  Their suggestions at some hidden sciences are notable, but I wish they went the extra mile.
 
But those who watch closely are likely to be a bit frustrated with the sum of Dead & Buried’s parts.  It’s an uneven meal – pacing is, at times, a bit laconic, though some might liken it to the way Alfred Hitchcock and even John Carpenter peppered certain narrative sequences with long takes.  Much of what director Gary Sherman accomplishes here is nothing short of masterful, quite a surprise given the fact that IMDB.com lists this as only his second major motion picture.  Still, there are passages that slow the film down to – ahem – perhaps the pace of the dead; and a trim here and there may’ve been just what the good ‘town doctor’ ordered.
 
Also, I’d be remiss if I failed to mention that Dead fits almost perfectly into that sub-genre of cinematic thrillers that relies on the audiences being blissfully unaware of all the town secrets until the very last frame.  Sherman has assembled one of the best examples of the M. Night Shyamalan films almost two decades before that hit-or-miss auteur tried cornering the market with The Sixth Sense (1999); I’d argue that while Sixth is the better film, Dead played its cards a bit closer to the chest, though anyone with an ounce of gray matter knows something is (seriously) afoot with Sherman’s first descent into mass madness in the opening reel.  If the twist is the thing, then both directors are deserving a salute.
 
Though Farentino does a good job with the material provided, I can’t help but wonder if a lead with a bigger following may’ve given Dead the chance for a better box office returns as well as a stronger foothold in film history.  (Maybe even a young Sylvester Stallone?  His early career had some great work in more dramatic fare, and were the producers able to afford him then maybe this one could’ve been a contender?)  The script is interesting enough that it should’ve had a wider appeal in the talent pool, especially with it coming on the heels of O’Bannon and Shusett’s success with Alien.  Farentino and Albertson manage to evoke a good chemistry – their early scenes suggest this might be a crisp thriller where the town’s ‘young gun’ and its ‘old fogey’ team up to solve one bloody mystery, and I suspect that misdirection was exactly as it was intended.  As much as I love Melody Anderson – and I do love you, in case you’re reading, Melody – there just wasn’t enough here for me to truly appreciate her charms: her character ends up being shoehorned as a bit of a plot device to get Farentino’s sheriff from A to B, a necessary evil in the set-up for the shocking finish.  And it is a shocking finish, indeed.
 
Worthy of a view and perhaps deserving of greater study (by film students, cinema aficionados, and the like), Dead & Buried rises from the graveyard of cinema’s past despite some occasional clumsiness.  It always helps to know where you’ve buried the bodies.
​

Dead & Buried (1981) was produced by Aspen Productions; distribution for this particular release is being coordinated by Blue Underground.  As for the technical specifications?  It all looks and sounds solid from start-to-finish.  This new restoration is fabulous.  As for the special features?  Yowza.  There’s a treasure trove here – some of it honestly a bit repetitive – and I’ll be doing a separate review relating specifically to the (almost unheard of) four different commentary tracks, so watch this space on SciFiHistory.Net for more.  Otherwise, there are a handful of making-of featurettes, trailers, still galleries, interviews, the soundtrack CD, and a collectible booklet featuring a brand-new essay from journalist and screenwriter Michael Gingold of Fangoria Magazine fame.  Seriously, you couldn’t ASK for a better collection of materials; and those interested in this type of thing will be busy for hours.
 
Recommended, though I’ll happily caution that Dead & Buried will not be for everyone.  It only toys with traditional horror elements, not ponying up enough to perhaps please the diehard fans of that genre.  It isn’t Fantastical enough to draw in enthusiasts questioning the boundaries between this life and the next.  And, alas, it isn’t sophisticated enough to interest fans of conventional drama, thrillers, and/or dark comedies though it embraces tropes of each.  At best, the film has been (and likely always will be) embraced by those patient enough to simply “try something a bit different,” something that doesn’t quite fit in any specific type of feature but instead straddles that line between all of them … making it a textbook ‘cult’ film if there ever were.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Blue Underground provided me with a 4K Ultra HD Blu-ray by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

Important links:

Blue Underground website
Amazon.com listing for Dead & Buried

​-- EZ

Ach.  Some of these announcements truly hurt.  This is one of them.

1978's Superman was not the first movie I saw in theaters.  Honestly, I'd seen quite a few by that time, so much so that going to the movies had become a somewhat regular thing for me and my friends.  Growing up in a small town, there really wasn't all that much to do, and Fridays had long ago come to mean something fresh was playing on the silver screen.  I was aware that Superman was making his grand debut on the silver screen, and I was there on opening night.  Naturally.

I think statements are always subject to debate, but I'd be hard-pressed to find someone to contradict this one: director Richard Donner was the first storyteller to 'get it right' when it comes to putting superheroes on the big screen.  Granted, having a character as popular and enduring as Superman helps, but Donner and company knew to treat the source material with the reverence it deserved.  The logical reason would be that fans were always watching closely, and if you couldn't win them over with your effort in the first try then you were likely destined for second place.  I think Donner understood this, and I think Donner knew all too well that winning over fans who would tell their friends to go see the movie was crucial.  In the end, he probably didn't tell this story necessarily for the fans; but he knew they were a key component of making audiences believe that a man could fly.  He did, and Superman soared.

Argh.

​Without getting too much into the weeds, Donner was rather famously fired from the production of Superman II.  Despite his shooting most of the film while the first one was underway (their scripts were, originally, very closely linked with Superman's failure to follow his father's wishes releasing the Kryptonian villains from the Phantom Zone), the producers brought in Richard Lester to complete Superman II.  Allegedly, there was some pushback from the cast (Gene Hackman and Marlon Brando), but, in the end, none of it mattered as Donner had delivered enough greatness to make the sequel a hit at the box office.

​In a recent interview, actor Jack O'Halloran -- who played 'Non,' one of those Kryptonian villains -- mentions that, apparently, the plans for the Superman movies changed somewhat drastically after Donner's departure.  He alludes that he knew there was far more planned with those characters -- that they were to return and pose an even greater threat -- and the fired director had hoped to do some incredible arcs crossing and intersecting throughout the Superman films (kinda/sorta sounds similar to what Marvel is doing today, no?) ... but it wasn't meant to be.

Donner continued directing, and he enjoyed some modest success but perhaps nothing quite as grand as what he achieved with cementing the Superman mythos up in the lights where it belonged.  I know fans who cherish his Spielberg collaboration, The Goonies (1985), but that one wasn't for me.  His first two Lethal Weapon films are very good, and his foray into Fantasy with Ladyhawke (1985) is definitely worth a visit.

Alas, word reached the Information Superhighway yesterday that this talented storyteller shook off his mortal coil, and I can't help but wonder even now -- decades later -- what a Donnerverse may have looked like at the movies.  As tempting as it sounds, I imagine the producers and Warners Bros. would've found a way to muck that up as well.

Prayers to the Donner family.  Filmdom has lost a true original.

​-- EZ

​Confession time: I’ve mentioned on more than one occasion in this space that I had the good fortune of seeing The Tomorrow War almost a year ago.  This SciFi/Adventure film made the rounds through one of those test-marketing companies here in the Phoenix area (probably elsewhere, too, but I’m only speaking to what I know); and even during the midst of the COVID pandemic the theater was packed to the gills (with some restrictions, obviously).  Our cut was unfinished – effects were in their very early stages, downright crude in a few spots, and I believe the presenters explained that the score wasn’t entirely complete – but it was clear that all involved with the production wanted a Hollywood blockbuster to emerge on the silver screen.  Star Chris Pratt and crew (largely) had a solid formula picture on their hands; yet we were all sworn to secrecy about discussing what we had seen on social media.
 
A few months back, I was honestly incredibly surprised to learn that The Tomorrow War had been scarfed up by Amazon of all places.  No disrespect intended to Prime Video (I am a subscriber, after all), but the film was crafted in the same vein as Aliens (1986), Independence Day (1994), and Battle Los Angeles (2011), which is to say its thrills and spills deserved to be seen up on the big screen (in all their  glory) as opposed to the homegrown television set.  These action sequences are big – at least, the ones I remembered were, and that was even with inferior effects – so I couldn’t imagine it working as well without the expansiveness of the silver screen.  Alas, as I read the article, I learned that no theatre debuts of the finished product were planned, so I’d have to live with the disappointment.
 
Well, it’s finally streamed (watched it last night), and now after that long delay I think it’s time to divulge what I thought for those who’re interested.  The short story?  It’s pretty marvelous, all things considered.  The long story?  Well, it could’ve used a just a little more tinkering …
 
(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 paragraph for my final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From IMDB.com: “A family man is drafted to fight in a future war where the fate of humanity relies on his ability to confront the past.”
 
Sadly, that plot description is a bit off.  I can assure you that it’s been written that way to keep spoilers from ruining the experience.  The Tomorrow War is a picture that takes place in two distinct time zones – the present and about thirty years from present day – and those periods are necessary for this tale to work at all.  I won’t spoil it for you (there are plenty of reviews online that already have) but suffice it to say that there are good reasons why screenwriter Zach Dean assembled it this way that relate to his characters, their relationships, and their respective journeys.  All war movies are about survival, and Tomorrow is no different: what makes the film unique is the focus on f-a-m-i-l-y, and that’s worth a bit of dissection.
 
A conventional war film – say Saving Private Ryan (1998) – earns its stripes by showing how men and women of different backgrounds can rally around a certain cause – a certain mission – to achieve something extraordinary.  On the road to completing their mission, they often grow closer together, and many narratives even structure these relationships like the nuclear family.  There’s a father figure and maybe even a mother figure (though that position is likely filled with a male actor).  There are siblings – older and younger – who serve in a capacity of watching out for one another.  Again, the goal will be survival, but the quest to that destination is subjugated to the maintenance of the surrogate family: losses will be felt like a family, and gains will be celebrated much the same.
​

More so than any other conflict of the last half-century, the Vietnam War prompted a turning point in the way Hollywood (especially) examined wars and the stories that could be told about them.  Suddenly the sentiments of national pride and respect for military values were gone; in their place were government sponsored corruption, equally corrupt (if not downright sociopathic) soldiers, and an ideological chasm between a people and their defenders.  Instead of treating these men and women who followed orders with a sense of fairness and decency, it became more commonplace to depict them as ‘broken’ by the things they did and suitably disowned by the society that rejected them on their return.  Pictures like The Deer Hunter (1978), First Blood (1982), and Platoon (1986) became the norm.  These soldiers might never find peace much less find a home again; and they’d spend the remainder of the days in emotional torture, social misfits who no longer ‘fit’ where civilization reigns supreme.
 
Thankfully, these ideas rarely enter the narrative of Science Fiction and Fantasy films.  They do get toyed with from time-to-time (James Cameron’s Aliens eked mileage out of depicting the Weiland Yutani corporate control over the space marines in similar fashion to some all-powerful-yet-deluded government bureaucracy), but the focus in these genres typically leans heavily toward the heroics of the individual or the team “saving the day.”  Escapism triumphs – Luke Skywalker trounces the Galactic Empire, Jake Sully embraces the blue aliens’ way of life instead of the greed of his human overlords, etc. – and audiences are better off for it.  (That’s my opinion, and I’m sticking with it!)
 
But Tomorrow responsibly embraces the aftermath of war on the individual in more ways than one.  Pratt’s everyman schoolteacher Dan Forester has a father, James (J.K. Simmons), who was one of those Vietnam veterans who found himself shunned and alienated upon his return from that conflict; and the two of them are played as moral opposites even though Dan’s wife Emmy (Betty Gilpin) pines for a reconciliation.  No matter the benefit, Dan will not make peace with his father in the first two-thirds of the picture.  However, once Dan returns from the future, he’s a changed man from what he’s seen (the audience has seen his eyes glaze over upon being reunited with his young daughter while she tries to speak to him about what she’s been up to while he’s been away).  Only now can Dean’s script allow the two men to come together.  (Granted, they find themselves with a shared purpose, but they had one at the film’s outset as well.)
 
There is more to this, but – as I’ve already promised to avoid spoiling it – I’ll leave it at that.  Tomorrow proves it can be more than one type of motion picture: there’s no discounting that it’s a wartime action film, and it successfully melds into something a bit more once called to service.  That’s admirable.
 
As for performances?
 
Pratt handles the first two-thirds of the film very well.  It’s clear that he’s taken this box office stardom business seriously (this is his first time serving as an Executive Producer, and his Instagram feed shows he’s been very proud of this picture since its inception).  As he’s done in the Jurassic Park flicks and The Magnificent Seven remake, he uses his skills to good effect as an action star.  The dramatic stuff?  Meh.  He’s good, but that’s as far as I’ll go.  The problem with the sum of his performance is Tomorrow’s last third has an awful lot of problems, cramming a ton of development into too little actual screen time, making the affair feel equally cliched and bloated, and it’s not a winning combination for any tentpole release.  Simmons is good, and he definitely shows he has ‘the right stuff’ with the slim amount of time he’s given.  Funnyman Sam Richardson delivers the film’s best comic relief, and Edwin Hodge turns in solid work as the soldier who’s just trying to run out the clock the way he wants.
 
Just in case anyone was wondering?  With the exception of the effects work and perhaps some scene trimming here and there, I didn’t notice all that many differences between the cut I saw a year ago and what I watched last night.  Some of Richardson’s antics were dialed back, and I think some of the footwork of Pratt and company’s arrival in the future may have been trimmed.  The single greatest improvement was, understandably, the effects … which are as big and as bold as you’d want in a picture of this type.  It looks phenomenal, and the action is definitely of the adrenaline-pumping variety.  The dire threat are relentless when you expect them to be, and this is one alien menace I hope never shows its face in our star system any time while I’m on this side of the dirt.
 
Recommended, but I’ll happily admit that The Tomorrow War feels like a flawed three-act play: the first two acts are thrilling, near perfectly paced, nearly pitch perfect, while the big finish is rushed, clumsy, and forced affair, feeling like it was made by a different cast and crew.  If the flick had put more time and effort into its third act, then this War wouldn’t have felt a bit long-in-the-tooth.  As it stands, it’ll still likely be christened another feather in Pratt’s cap, though I’d imagine fans might not be so forgiving in his next bout.

"Everyone remembers the villain, George."

Allegedly, that's what actor David Prowse told George Lucas at the end of his audition for a little something something called Star Wars (1977).  Prowse -- a bodybuilder by trade -- had found himself sought after for roles requiring a bit of size; so he went in to his audition not entirely sure what to expect.  What he got was an offer from Lucas himself to play either Chewbacca or the Sith Lord Darth Vader.  Prowse wanted to be the fallen Jedi, and he told Lucas why in that simple statement above.

​Well, apparently Lucas even remembered Prowse as a bit of a villain as the franchise creator eventually banned the bodybuilder-turned-actor from appearing at Star Wars related events.  The exact reasons why remain a bit of a mystery -- a statment was made about "too many bridges burned" -- though I'm happy to unpack what I've read over the years.

As the story begins, Prowse learned and delivered Vader's lines during the production of the original film in the trilogy, but it was a performance that director Lucas assured him would be re-recorded in post.  How would the words be clearly heard from under than massive helmet?  Prowse insists he was never called in to deliver his lines in studio and only learned upon release of the film -- seeing  it on the silver screen himself -- that the words were instead spoken by actor James Earl Jones.  There has been some conjecture that Prowse was simply unable to get to the states for the dubbing process (the late actor himself has even offered up said reason), and Lucas has stated that the bodybuilder's voice just didn't "work."  Whatever the truth is, it remains shrouded in as much mystery as Vader's true identity did at that time ... which brings us to another behind-the-scenes development ...

Because he knew his voice wasn't going to be used in the final product, Prowse stopped memorizing the script, instead improvising dialogue approximating what he did remember from his reading of it.  In an interview, Prowse has even admitted that he'd muck up a line here and there just for laughs.  As one can imagine, this caused some kerfuffle with creatives on-the-set who prefer an actor to stick to the script (unless being directed to adlib); so Lucas and his peers were further disenfranchised.

Well, as everyone knows, The Empire Strikes Back had a big, big secret -- namely involving a certain somebody turning out to be another certain somebody's father -- and Lucas along with the entire production team were hard-pressed to keep this under wraps.  In order to accomplish this monumental task, the reveal was shared with as few people as possible (I've read three people knew, I've read four people knew, etc.); and here is where things get a bit frosty.  On more than one occasion, Prowse has clarified that he did not know that Vader was Luke Skywalker's father; but I've read accounts where Lucas was furious with the actor over implying the relationship in an interview wherein he said something to the reporter akin to "The father cannot kill the son, and the son cannot kill the father."  It's entirely understandably how such a statement certainly sounds like Prowse was in on it and perhaps spilled the beans ... or it could've been just an incredibly fortunate (or unfortunate) guess.  Whatever that truth may be, it's now lost to the ages.

Still, the feud between Lucas and his actor didn't end there.  It was, after all, only the second installment in what was the Original Trilogy ...

Once the final shooting script was delivered, Prowse believed that his face would finally be shown to the world outside as, certainly, the villain would be unmasked.  So far as everyone knew, this was the last Star Wars, so why not go out on a high note and reveal the man beneath the mask?  Audiences would be coming back to find out the truth behind Luke's lineage, how it all unfolded, and what fate awaited the Rebel Alliance.

In order to keep all things secret, actors were only given scenes they were involved in.  (I've read that only three full shooting scripts ever existed, and Prowse -- who had been considered a 'security threat' by Lucasfilm after The Empire Strikes Back -- didn't have one.)  But he had his scenes, and it's been long alleged that he spoiled Vader's death scene to the London press.

Lo and behold, when it came time to shoot the big scene, Prowse wasn't on the call sheet for the role; instead there was an actor named Sebastian Shaw.

As this particular story goes, Prowse insists he heard the news of Vader's death and the casting of Shaw from a United Kingdom reporter who cornered him during a workout at the gym.  The actor has maintained that his position was that no one -- not even George Lucas -- would deny him the opportunity to have his face associated with the iconic role he helped to create and shape on film.  Because he wasn't listed as the actor who'd ultimately played Anakin Skywalker in Return Of The Jedi, he wouldn't have been provided those scenes during production ... so how could he have known?  The reporter's story links the spoiling of Vader's death directly to his Prowse interview, and Lucasfilm was incensed.

Alas, the bad blood doesn't end there.

The People Vs. George Lucas (2010) is a documentary feature from writer/director Alexandre O. Philippe which examined fan discontent with the franchise creator about the ways in which the Prequel Trilogy "didn't align" with what was already established within Star Wars mythology as well as deconstructing the controversial 'Special Edition' releases.  While much of what's inevitably discussed in the film could be considered nitpicking, some of its interview subjects clearly put a lot of thought, effort, and logic into dissecting creative choices Lucas made along the way.  Though it's never been clearly established that the writer/director himself has even viewed the doc, he did learn that David Prowse participated with it ... and that's what many claim was the last straw that broke the Bantha's back.

From that point forward, Lucas stated categorically that Prowse was to be no longer invited to participate in official Star Wars events.

Whatever the truth to all of this may be, we'll likely never know.  All we have are the stories of those involved, and even those might be heavily shaded by personal opinion or merely obfuscated by history.  Lucas did speak warmly about Prowse's contribution to the Star Wars saga upon the man's death in 2020, so maybe there's a measure of peace achieved when such rivals confront mortality.  Vader lives on -- he's still often voted one of cinema's iconic villains -- and I like to think that somewhere under that mask there's a bodybuilder smiling ... though you'll never hear his voice.

​-- EZ