On this day all the way back in the year 1979, the good people of New York City were treated to one of the most incredible time travel movies ever -- so far as this reviewer is concerned: Nicholas Meyer wrote (in part) and directed this fabulous story that saw Science Fiction writer H.G. Wells chasing the nefarious Jack the Ripper into what was then present day San Francisco.  As fate would have it, the Ripper borrowed Wells' time machine to escape the past, and only Wells himself knew what was necessary to step into tomorrow in an attempt to right the wrongs the dastardly killer no doubt sought to loose upon mankind.

Malcolm McDowell headlined the feature film, and the incredible David Warner filled in the shoes of John Leslie Stevenson (aka Jack).  The always wonderful Mary Steenburgen turned in a wonderful performance as Amy Robbins, a bank currency officer who finds herself in between this race against time, all the while possibly serving as the killer's next victim.  Part love story and part adventure, it was a dynamic combination, and the film's success is owed to a great script, incredible direction and pacing, and the performances of its key players.

I intend on writing a bit more about the film -- probably a full review -- but I kinda/sorta ran out of time today.  What I did instead was I spent a fair amount of time pulling some screencaps off the film in an attempt to commemorate its cinematic birthday.  Interested parties can find the collection right here.

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

​-- EZ

Ach.  Thirty-two years of age is much, much too young to leave this plane of existence.

Alas, I can't find many details online regarding the death of Charlbi Dean (aka Charlbi Dean Kreik or Kriek, I've now seen it spelled both ways).  I saw the announcement of her passing, and it cited an unexpected illness the lady had been battling as of late; but those are all of the particulars out at this time.  I did see one or two outlets stating that she died from injuries resulting from an automobile accident; this may be misinformation (she was involved in an accident a few years back) or it could be the truth.  I just don't know.

What makes this even more sad is that I'm reading that her true 'break-out' performance is in the forthcoming comedy Triangle Of Sadness, which looks to poke fun at the lives of celebrities.  I do recall her from a guest stint aboard The CW's Black Lightning where she played the villainous 'Syonide' across several episodes.  IMDB.com reports that she also had a small role aboard the SciFi-lite property Death Race: Inferno (2013) for Universal Pictures.

Thoughts and prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Ms. Dean.

-- EZ

Blood, guts, and sexuality have grown increasingly easier to feature in films across the years.
 
As the standards and practices teams around the world have kinda/sorta lessened their collective grip, they’ve allowed more and more to be shown theatrically to the masses-at-large.  Naturally, storytellers have responded by continuing to push the limits of what’s acceptable up on the silver screen by crafting thrillers more and more gruesome and/or more and more sensual than what’s come before.  However, mine is an ‘old soul’: I have an affinity for storytellers of the bygone eras of the 1950’s, 1960’s, and 1970’s … when talented craftsmen (and women) had to work much harder at conveying a sense of – say – doom and gloom with mere visual suggestions that would get past the censors of their era … not to mention how they had to tweak, titillate, and tantalize the suggestion of (ahem) sexual attraction that has, does, and always make up a part of our dailies lives.
 
What can I say?  Older films just had to make do with far less.
 
And – speaking of older films – one of the more curious entries I’ve had the good fortune to watch & review recently was the Arrow Video release of Mill Of The Stone Women (1960).  According to Blu-ray.com, this version hit the shelves on December 7, 2021, and those interested in knowing more specifically of what I thought of this package can find my review on SciFiHistory.Net right here.  Seriously: I always encourage readers to check it out as that’s just good business for me.
 
As per the facts provided by the good people at IMDB.com, the film was released on this day back in 1960 in its native Italy.  (Curiously, IMDB.com sites several Italian dates, so I’m guessing this thing likely rolled out premieres in a short city-by-city effort to ramp up its marketing efforts of the day.)  A small team of writers are credited for the effort – the chief of which appear to be Remigio Del Grosso cited for the ‘scenario’ and Pieter van Weigen cited for a related ‘short story’ – and the film was directed by Giorgio Ferroni.  The cast include such names of the day as Pierre Brice, Scilla Gabel, Wolfgang Preiss, Dany Carrel, and Liana Orfei.  Here’s the plot summary as provided by IMDB.com:
 
"In 19th century Holland, a professor of fine arts and an unlicensed surgeon run a secret lab where the professor's ill daughter receives blood-transfusions from kidnapped female victims who posthumously become macabre art."

Without rehashing the finer points of my review of the film, I can say that I found Mill to be an interesting gender-swapped Frankenstein story: this time, the seminal monster is the lovely Elfie (a luminous Scilla Gabel) who’s unaware of the fact that she’s been reanimated.  There are elements of the evolving story that suggest perhaps she’s questioned her state of being or suspects there’s something amiss, but I’ll not trouble readers with those points at this juncture: what I truly wanted to point out on the film’s anniversary is how director Ferroni truly gave the flick greater life with some stylish visuals and an immaculate set design.
 
In thinking about windmills – the setting for much of the affair – it’s hard to conjure up any sense of dread.  They’re idyllic settings, structures set in an expansive countryside ripe with brilliant flowers and a stretch of green grass.  But that’s not quite the case in Stone Women: though some interiors are rendered with some brilliant colors, there’s a cold and cruel lifelessness to the exteriors, perhaps symbolizing that not all is as it seems in this particular location … a sentiment not all that far off-the-beaten-path.
 
As I suggested above, the real impact of the film lies in its technicians, for it is they who gave the picture an incredible depth of palette in creative ways.  They brought a measure of ‘breath’ to a place otherwise preoccupied with the existence of statues – frozen as they are and only presenting a snapshot of what life was.  This chilling glimpse into one man’s attempt at playing god likely would’ve failed in any other rendering, and it’s why the picture remains worthy of study by those of us who appreciate what’s been done before.

​-- EZ

​There are two movies I watched as a little guy – back in the days when I was probably five or six years old – that have forever shaped how I think about Science Fiction and Fantasy films over the years.  As you can see, I experienced these at a very young age, so it’s easy to conclude that they left their respective marks somewhere in the recesses of a brain in its formative years.  No matter how many flicks I’ve seen since then, I believe in no uncertain terms that I’ll forever measure new stories against these classic barometers in order to determine how they measure up both artistically as well as logically.  Dare I say that it’s always a daunting challenge for newcomers to the field?
 
The first?
 
Why, that’s the Robert Wise gem The Day The Earth Stood Still.  Edmund H. North adapted this Harry Bates story (“Farewell To The Master”) for the silver screen, and it starred Michael Rennie as ‘Klaatu,’ the visitor sent from another star to deliver Earth with a warning about mankind’s growing fascination with expanding its warlike ways from the planet and into the cosmic heavens.  Unlike other alien species who show up to our world with guns blazing, Klaatu kinda/sorta makes the point of our galactic overlords by doing nearly the exact opposite: using the might of his technological sophistication, he shuts all of our world down – except for critical functions – for thirty minutes, giving us a ‘time out’ to think about how we’ve come to rely on machines to make life livable.  The message is simple: either shape up or you’ll be sent back to the Stone Age.  It’s a film so profound that, in 1995, the America Film Institute inducted the feature into the National Film Registry, the U.S. organization that preserves motion pictures found to have contributed to the historical, aesthetic, and cultural legacy of the medium.
 
The second?
 
Well, this explanation gets a bit tricky.
 

In 1967, Hammer Films produced Quatermass And The Pit, a cinematic adaptation of a popular 1958-1959 BBC Science Fiction serial.  The original series was crafted by Nigel Kneale, the screenwriter who’d created the fictional character of ‘Professor Bernard Quatermass’ for his 1953 serial, The Quatermass Experiment.  The original was popular enough to justify a second series, thus Kneale returned with Quatermass II (1955), an outing that paved the way for this story.  Incidentally, Hammer Films produced film adaptations of those serials as well, but I don’t believe any picture has been received as successfully and enthusiastically as has Quatermass And The Pit … but we’ll get to that in the review.
 
With the Pit, the dear old professor is brought in to consult on a curious discovery: crews expanding the subway line unearth human skeletons that may serve as the ‘missing link’ in man’s evolution.  However, an even more disturbing surprise is that the tunnel houses what just might be a buried alien spacecraft, one housing not only alien bodies but also a secret that might explain more about the entire human race’s conception than the world’s leading scientific minds had ever possibly considered!
 
As I mentioned above, I saw the Pit as a young child, and I’m not insulted to admit that there were parts of the complex tale that escaped my understanding at the time.  I watched it with my father – it was on late one night under its U.S. name of Five Million Years To Earth – and I distinctly recall asking my dad questions about it afterward, many of which he couldn’t answer to my satisfaction.  (See what I mean?  I’m just wired to want to think and think and think about film, and I knew it back then.)  It’s a somewhat alarming yarn – one involving both scientific ideas as well as links to the supernatural and even cultural identities – and it all ties up in the finale with a man of science (not Quatermass) sacrificing himself against a force of evil by using knowledge as a weapon against faith.  Honestly, it’s the kind of showdown that could, would, and should be dissected for ages.
​

Flash forward to my college years: I and a few of my friends were debating the benchmarks of SciFi films from the 1960’s.  When the group’s majority opinion was that Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey remains ‘the title to beat,’ here I was offering up Quatermass And The Pit as a far more relatable tale, one that deserved recognition it’s never quite had largely owed to the feature’s flawed production.  (I won’t trouble readers with a recounting of its several scenes with decidedly undercooked special effects sequences – yes, even those with obvious wires showing or pronounced puppetry – but let’s just say it has its blemishes.)  In that moment, I realized that no man is an island, but sometimes you might live and die on one based entirely on your personal choices.  Though 2001 is, arguably, the better film technically, I’ll take the Pit’s ‘humanity lies in the balance’ personal stakes and narrative tension every chance I get.
 
Also, there’s a vastness and richness to Quatermass that, frankly, few genre films approach.
 
Though I find it easy to craft a synopsis about the central story, Kneale’s script explores an incredible litany of ideas – both scientific and supernatural – in its 97 minutes, far more than most flicks ever dream of much less attempt.  The popularity of Erich von Daniken’s ‘Chariots Of The Gods’ was only a year or two off at this point, but Kneale’s story dramatically centers its main plot on the idea that not only was Earth visited by Martians in the distant past but our world was invaded, and these overlords had dark designs for us, indeed.  The script ties in references to witchcraft and sorcery, as well as ghosts and demons.  There are scenes involving possible telekinesis, telepathy, and mental projection; and they’re just as easily juxtaposed with the concepts of Darwinism, stored memory, and genetic manipulation.  Granted, most of these concepts are not given a full and proper airing, but all of them end of being circumstantially tied to the events taking place and get discussed as a consequence.
​

The passage of time since the film’s original release has been both kind and unkind to its reputation.  While more and more folks have discovered the picture and have begun singing its praises (perhaps not as strongly or as loudly as I do), it’s quite also been laughed at a bit more due to the practical limitations its effects team just couldn’t overcome on the budget granted by Hammer Films.  As I mentioned, some sequences are a bit painful to watch, so much so that they don’t render an idea anywhere as convincingly as was possible at the time.  I’ve always cautioned that it helps viewers to go in to the film understanding that I find imperfections occasionally charming – especially so in older features – and this Pit has aplenty of charm.
 
Still, if you can appreciate the genius of Kneale’s work coupled with what director Roy Ward Baker was able to capture with his cast of Andrew Keir, Barbara Steele, and James Donald, then Quatermass And The Pit should always score high marks.  It’s arguably one of Science Fiction and Fantasy’s best features – even with its flaws – and it deserves to be rediscovered by modern audiences hungry for tales that stimulate conversation and thought about what makes great genre storytelling uniquely compelling.

​-- EZ

Whoa.  Would you lookie there?  Why, I just reviewed The Hideous Sun Demon just a few months back; and here it is already celebrating its 64th birthday!  (Not my review, but the film, silly.)  If I remember this correctly, it was part of a Triple Feature collection; and I'd agreed to pen a review in exchange for a complimentary DVD.  Yes, yes.  Excellent, indeed.

In fairness, I didn't think all that much of Demon.  It was essentially what I'd catalogue as a 'nice' picture, nothing really standing out all that memorable in the performances or the practical effects (which were few and far between).  Robert Clarke jumped at the chance to dabble once more in Science Fiction and Fantasy as one of his recent outings had actually done quite well at the box office.  As you can see by the poster above, he not only starred in this but also produced and directed.  I believe I'd also read he didn't exactly contribute to the script so much as he came up with the core idea and then let the screenwriters have at it.  So, yes, I think this one also qualifies as a 'vanity project,' though some might disagree.

Furthermore, I distinctly recall the flick being reasonably light on time spent with the creature itself.  In any Jekyll & Hyde story (of which this qualifies), I'd argue that the split should be, at least, 60/40.  Naturally, the sane half of the split personality would be provided more screen time -- the story needs the set-up, and the inter-relationships between all of the players would also require some exploration -- but I think this one had very, very little time actually in costume.  In fact, I'm pretty sure the bulk of it was in the finale; and -- at that point -- monsters usually are showing up to deliver a swan song, aren't they?  Sigh.  It ain't easy being green.

Like many who write and think about film, I have the compunction to care more about the creature than I do the -- ahem -- mere mortals.  It's the monster that I typically experience more empathy for: he didn't ask to be created, nor did he ask for whatever hungers drive him to commit such nefarious and sometimes bloody deeds.  While Clarke's picture had its heart in the right place, what was truly needed was a thicker wallet.
​

If IMDB.com's facts are to be believed, Demon's trivia section lists that the rubberized lizard suit cost him (as producer) a cool $500 in 1958 dollars.  That may sound like a lot of scratch, but here's a point of comparison: the Creature From The Black Lagoon's gillman suit cost around $15,000 from estimates I've heard.  What does $15,000 get you?  Well, it definitely gets you remembered, especially in Hollywood.  I guess that's why Clarke's Demon is seen wearing slacks in the final reel's rollicking showdown: he couldn't afford anything else!

​-- EZ

One of the great pleasures I get from being an editor-in-chief in this space is that -- from time-to-time -- I'm alerted to some of the cinematic gems that are curiously lying in wait just right around the corner from release.  While some of these yet-fully-exposed pictures might not be exactly everyone's cup o' tea, every now and then there's one that looks very promising.

What can I say about the forthcoming They Crawl Beneath?  Well, it certainly looks like it has bite!

This one is set for release this upcoming October 4th, and I've been alerted that a trailer has finally hit the Information Superhighway; so I wanted to pass along their advance publicity information for the SciFi/Horror/Fantasy.  From the looks of the coming attraction, it appears that the film definitely ramps up the claustrophia, delivering the story of a man, a car, and a monster that emerges from the Earth and is most definitely in need of a stomping.

I'll do the usual cut-and-paste below.  Trailer is there.  You know what to do.

-- EZ
​

PLANO, TEXAS (August 25, 2022) – A young police officer trapped under a car after an earthquake has unleashed a fearsome creature in THEY CRAWL BENEATH, the terrifying thriller reminiscent of the fun horror films of the 1950s. Directed by Dale Fabrigar (D-Railed, Lonely Boy), the nail-biting thriller stars Michael Pare (The Lincoln Lawyer), Joseph Almani (Law of Attraction), Arthur Roberts (Not of This Earth), Merrick McCartha (Twisted Twin), Karlee Eldridge (House of Bodies), Elena Sahagun (Tremors 3: Back to Perfection) and Natalia Bilbao (No Man’s Law). THEY CRAWL BENEATH debuts on digital, Blu-ray™ and DVD October 4 from Well Go USA Entertainment.

​THEY CRAWL BENEATH had its world premiere at the Texas Frightmare Festival and will also be screening at the Horror Hotel Film Fest and the Halloween Horror Picture Show. 
​
Synopsis:
Young police officer Danny (Joseph Almani) is working on an antique car at his uncle’s remote ranch when a major earthquake hits, pinning him under the vehicle and leaving him bloodied, alone, and with no way to call for help. Just when he thinks the claustrophobic nightmare can’t get any worse, something truly horrifying emerges from the fissures in the ground, forcing Danny to engage in a brutal fight for his life—and his sanity.

ABOUT WELL GO USA ENTERTAINMENT
Well Go USA Entertainment (www.wellgousa.com) is an Oscar®-nominated theatrical and home entertainment distribution label that specializes in bringing the best in action, genre and independent films from the U.S. and around the world to North America. Well Go titles can be seen across a variety of platforms, including in theaters, on-demand, via DVD and Blu-ray and on television, as well as on mobile and connected devices through martial arts action channel Hi-YAH! (www.hiyahtv.com). Well Go USA Entertainment’s corporate headquarters is in Plano, Texas, with an additional office in Taiwan.

Folks, you've long known about my one overwhelming desire when it comes to talking about the good, the bad, and the ugly about genre films: always -- ALWAYS -- try to find something redeeming about them.

Now, that means more to me than just being one of life's Golden Rules.  Essentially, it's the recognitioin that in all things there lies some nugget of goodness, some small stone of grace.  Even the worst ideas might have something of value in them; granted, it may not be all that much, but what's it hurt to take a few extra minutes of brainwork to fire off some neurons in your grey matter trying to come up with one single solitary bit of praise, however minor?  I'm not saying that each and every film deserved to be put up on a pedestal; I'm only trying to point out that by revelling in what you find worthless you may be missing that shiny lucky penny ... and, yes, I'm the kind of guy who always picks one up.

Stick with me until the end, and maybe -- just maybe -- you'll see what I mean.

It was on this day all the way back in 1957 that From Hell It Came was let loose cinematically.  IMDB.com attributes the original idea for the story to Jack Milner, who produced The Phantom From 10,000 Leagues a few years earlier.  Richard Bernstein is credited with the screenplay, this apparently serving as his screenwriting introduction into the movie business.  Dan Milner directed thsi SciFi/Fantasy, and its cast was made up of such players as Tod Andrews, Tina Carver, Linda Watkins, Gregg Palmer, and Robert Swan.  According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:

"Tabonga, a killer spirit reincarnated as a scowling tree stump, comes back to life and kills a bunch of natives of a South Seas island. A pair of American scientists save the day."

Culling through the recesses of my brain, I do believe this is one flick I saw as a youngster.  It certainly looks like the kind of thing that was heavily in TV syndication when I was an urchin.  And, yes, it's likely the sight of the tree creature that tickles some hidden memory, though the faces of the lovely women certainly don't hurt.  That monster definitely resembles something I recall, so it's probably one experience tucked away in those cranial archives.  If I recall correctly, I believe I was somewhat disappointed in the feature because there just wasn't enough monster for me: when I'm sitting quietly in front of the set watching and waiting for the advertised creature, I did grow impatient as a li'l guy.

In any event ...

Silver screen monsters have always had a way of transcending the routine and entering other realms for the creative types ... and -- if IMDB.com has its facts correct -- then it was none other than Stan Lee himself who drew a bit of inspiration from the lumbering giant and transformed that idea into the Marvel Comics' book character of ... dum dum dum ... Groot!

So from trash -- if From Hell It Came is considered such -- came treasure.

That, my friends, is why I always try to find something that sticks when enjoying any motion picture.  I'm just wired that way ... and it sounds like Stan was, too.

​-- EZ

One of the challenges to loving so many older films as I do is that I often have to kinda/sorta look the other way when there's a sequence involving what modern audiences would easily term a question special effect.

Keeping in mind that special effects work in filmdom has been in a constant state of evolution for the better part of film history, it's pretty clear that what directors and storytellers were often trying to do in the 1950's, 1960's, and early 1970's was often just beyond the reach of the industry's finest technicians.  Many have long argued that it wasn't until Stanley Kubrick revolutionized Science Fiction filmmaking with his seminal 2001: A Space Odyssey when studios both saw, understood, and appreciated that high quality effects work could succeed in perfecting a vision.  Once George Lucas adapted those techniques (and more) and delivered a bona fide box office juggernaut, the suits were most definitely convinced ... and in many respects we're still largely stuck on that treadmill today.

However, one film I don't feel I've ever had to apologize for liking -- even with some fairly dated ideas for its period -- remains Richard Fleischer's Fantastic Voyage (1966).  While a few sections aesthetically feel a bit more psychedelic than perhaps they were intended, the effects work very convincingly detailed what the story required in a means that was entirely possible for studios.  While audiences may not have fully believed they had been transported deep within the human body, there was still enough 'presence' up on the silver screen for them to accept the supposition.  Perhaps that's the best viewers could, should, and would require of any generation.

In fact, the effects and production work were so grand that the film took home two golden statues at the 1967 Academy Awards (in the U.S.): Art Cruickshank took home the Oscar for 'Best Effects - Special Visual Effects' while the team of Jack Martin Smith, Dale Hennesy, Walter M. Scott, and Stuart A. Reiss took home the gold for 'Best Art Direction - Set Direction (Color).'  Hats off to them and all of the other technicians behind-the-scenes who toiled to make that voyage as fantastic as was humanly possible!

​-- EZ

I damn near routinely mention these days that I don’t read nearly as much as I used to; yet – back in the days when I was a pretty ravenous consumer of the written and spoken word – I just loved the script for Agatha Christie’s “And Then There Were None,” known both cinematically and theatrically as Ten Little Indians.
 
Why?
 
Well, it’s one of those great yarns, and it’s just as simple as that.  In fact, it’s what one might call about as miniscule a probable set-up for a whodunnit is humanly possible: ten strangers are brought together under one roof, and they mysteriously begin turning up dead.  Naturally, the room is filled with folks growing increasingly paranoid – am I next, what did I do, who is doing this to us – and in most instances when I’ve seen it I think it’s worked to perfection.  Granted, I may’ve had some quibbles with how the basic formula has evolved or been tweaked creatively over the years, but you can’t escape the fact that the founding premise – when done correctly – makes for excellent drama.
 
So having been familiar with a variety of produced interpretations – both official and a few unofficial ones – I was excited about the prospect of watching The Killer Reserved Nine Seats (1974).  Yes, I’d heard about it, but a full sit-down with any version of it had simply escaped me over the years.  With with the release of Arrow Video’s Giallo Essentials (Black Edition), I can finally rectify this oversight.
 
(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:
“Eccentric nobleman Patrick Davenant invites an assortment of wealthy degenerates to tour the theatre attached to his ancestral home.  Before long, however, the assembled pleasure-seekers find themselves locked inside along with a ruthless killer, who proceeds to pick them off one by one using a variety of brutal and creative methods.”
 
Putting as fine a point on my disappointment with The Killer Reserved Nine Seats as I can is a difficult prospect, mostly because I think the film underperforms in a surprising number of ways.  Despite having a script filled to the brim with some vile and despicable characters, the viewer is never truly convinced to loathe them perhaps the way we should.  Instead, we’re taken on a journey through their separate and collective demise, some deaths a bit bloodier than others.  But because we most likely never cared about them in the beginning, then I’m left with the biggest question of all: “Why should I care that they’re gone?”
 
Therein lies the biggest problem: there’s no one in this mild potboiler worth really caring about.
 
When you’re expected to endure any mystery, the general idea is that you – as a viewer – grow to care about some in the cast, so much so that in the very least you’d hope this person would find a way to survive.  But The Killer’s cast is an assort of back-stabbing ne’er-do-wells – a collection of swindlers who’ve both crossed and double-crossed one another so much – that I started rooting for the mysterious killer to simply finish this whole thing up so we can all go home.  Well, those of us left breathing, that is.
 
Because the script as presented genuinely never crafts a good guy – an everyman or an anyone who’s merely circumstantially caught up in this bloody showdown – I couldn’t decide how much the director wanted to me invest in the tale.  Without any attachment, is this all just for the sake of murdering these folks?  None of these players truly seem to care about one another … so am I supposed to legitimately care about them?  And why are they all stupid enough to wander off in a darkened theatre alone when they know someone’s out to kill them one-by-one?  No wonder the killer is having a field day!
 
Yes, yes, yes.  I get that it’s murder, and murder is wrong, no matter the degree or circumstance.  But in life there’s also this little thing called karma, and karma always reminds us – in no uncertain terms – that just as good things happen to good people bad things befall the bad ones.  Given that each of these players is kinda/sorta exposed as being a low-down dirty shame to begin with, am I to really miss them when they check out?  If so, then isn’t all of this just a bit too gratuitous?  Were that the case, then I’d be celebrating their demise, but most of this happens with fairly benign presentation … another bit of a surprise given the fact that this is advertised all over the place as being ‘giallo’ (which typically means a tad more blood).
​

Still, The Killer does get one thing right, and that would be choosing to set the bulk of the whodunnit in what we’re told is an abandoned theater.  (All things considered and having been in my fair share of backstages, this is the cleanest abandoned theater I’ve ever seen.)  With all of the potential nooks and crannies and assorted rooms above and below this stunning auditorium, writer/director Giuseppe Bennati made pretty impressive use of the possibilities, though I’ll admit there were a few spots that could’ve used a simple verbal explanation.  Even emptied, there’s an ambiance to theaters that can’t quite be catalogued, so the fact that these unfortunate souls find themselves trapped within alongside a ruthless murderer who’ll stop at nothing was a grand choice.  Thankfully, the script gives this storied hall a life all of its own in a few spots, and that does give the picture a stronger heartbeat.
 
Still, the pulse was just too weak … and we lost the picture.
 
The Killer Reserved Nine Seats (1974) was produced by Cinenove.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by the good people at Arrow Video.  As for the technical specifications?  Though I am no trained video expert, I thought this 2K restoration looks and sounds very good from start-to-finish.  As for the special features?  Besides the fact that this is a new restoration from the original camera negative, the disc boasts:

• An audio commentary by author and critic Kat Ellinger;
• An interview will actor Howard Ross;
• An interview with screenwriter Biagio Proietti;
• The theatrical trailer;
• An image gallery; and
• A collector’s booklet with production info and an essay by Peter Jilmstad.

As is often the case with Arrow Video’s releases, this is impressive and should provide interested viewers with plenty of additional content to absorb.  Well done.
 
(Only) Mildly Recommended.
 
1974’s The Killer Reserved Nine Seats is a giallo that I really wanted to like, mostly because I felt that the story represented an almost bare-bones, back-to-basics approach to a murder mystery form.  While I’d concede that it had a few good performances – and an absolutely killer setting – it just failed to involve or excite me on any level.  There’s no creation of suspense – nor any palpable sense of tension – in the inevitable middling affair.  “Will anyone survive?”  Well, you never made me care … so there’s that.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video provided me with a complimentary copy of The Killer Reserved Nine Seats (1974) 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

Sigh.

Ever had one of those days when it just doesn't pay to get out of bed?  That's how my day's shaping up, kids, so bear with daddy as I opine on a curious topic for a few moments.

Because there are always new readers to SciFiHistory.Net -- because there's a wealth of new opportunities to reach out and continue the efforts to bring fandom together under one umbrella -- I occasionally get asked a question that I probably should ignore BUT I do feel an obligation -- as editor-in-chief -- to help provide a bit of clarity if and when I feel it necessary.  Some of you reading this post will likely know and/or already understand how SciFiHistory.Net works -- and I thank you for indulging your patience on this one -- but newbies trying to get up-to-speed might find things more than a bit curious.  So let me explain ...

The whole purpose of the Daily Citation Pages is -- definitively -- celebrate damn near anything and everything I can find related to Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror on that particular day.  DAY.  D-A-Y.  In other words, if it happened on that DAY and I can find it, then I'm going to share it on the corresponding DAY.  Yes, this means birthdays, movie releases, TV airings, book publishings, etc.  Again, anything and everything is open for coverage, but as things apply to -- say, August 23rd -- I'm going to only cite those things that I know of and have found sufficient sourcing to justify including it on that date.

Just because -- say -- Dredd (2012) is a much better version of a cinematic story for Judge Dredd (1995) doesn't mean I should ignore celebrating Judge Dredd any less or any more than I do Dredd.  I'm trying to be as inclusive as possible with these citations.  Though I certainly agree that Dredd (2012) is certainly a much better cinematic interpretation of the comic book character still doesn't mean I can't have a love or admiration or respect for what Stallone and his friends tried to do ... but all of that's beside the point.  A day's citation page is to celebrate ALL THINGS related to our beloved genre ... and so far as I'm in charge of calling the shots in this space that will always be the policy.

Now ...

The MainPage of SciFiHistory.Net -- for example, this very post you're reading right now is on the MainPage -- is where I choose (again as editor-in-chief) to occasionally dig a bit deeper.  Yes, I might do a blog post to celebrate a film that came out on this particular day in history.  Regular readers know of my fondness for writing my own reviews on genre-related products and projects.  I might pass along some upcoming movie announcements and/or coming attractions that I find of interest and I think might be of interest to you, the reader.  Yes, I'll even occasionally do interviews and/or product promotion -- mild ad placement -- and those are things that I'm happy to do (again!) if I choose to do it.  It isn't something I offer every Tom, Dick, and Harry who reach out to me (and, please, trust me when I say that I turn down far more requests than I ever complete); but it's something I like to do from time-to-time as well.

Still, the MainPage isn't where I'd necessarily call interest to Daily Citation Pages.  Yes, I can, and I have done -- when it moves me -- but just because you know so-and-so did something and you think it deserves coverage on SciFiHistory.Net doesn't mean I'll agree.  Don't get me wrong: if there's something you want to see in this space, drop me a line.  But having done what I do for a few years I'm well aware that there are clever marketing companies out there who offer me money in exchange for curious posts; I try to avoid that kind of thing UNLESS those parties can provide me with a working example of something, I find it relevant, and I conclude you might find it relevant.

Running and maintaining an entertainment blog isn't rocket science, but it does require a certain amount of discretion.  Again, trust me when I say that I get inquiries for items that just have no place within these imaginery walls; I keep that stuff away from you because I choose to.

So ... in conclusion ...

I get that maybe Stallone's Judge Dredd wasn't your cup of tea.  All well and good.  So maybe -- next time -- just scroll past the items that don't interest you and pay attention to the ones that do.

As always, THANK YOU FOR READING!  All of you are truly appreciated!  And ... live long and prosper!

​-- EZ