Believe it or not, 1984’s Children Of The Corn has steadily grown over the years from a cult property into its own little cottage industry.
 
I have vague recollections of originally seeing this one on the silver screen when it was first released in the U.S.  Growing up in a small Midwestern town during the 1980’s, all most of us had for entertainment options was the corner cinema; so we and my buddies spent many an afternoon or evening with our butts in the seats watching anything that came our way in small town, America.  I don’t recall that we were particularly enamored with it – townies don’t often take well to the heartland being so openly scorned in movies – but I do remember thinking it had a few good points, too, most of them owed to the imagination of Stephen King, the author whose short story served as the film’s foundation.
 
Today, what I was completely aware of was how far Children has come as a franchise.  Having worked in retail a few years as well as following entertainment news reasonably closely, I was aware that the film inspired a sequel or two: lo and behold, I’m gobsmacked to learn that there have been (at least) six sequels along with a few other flicks which serve as remakes or what I’d call ‘spin-offs’ from the source.  Wowza.  That I did not know.  As is the case when horror films spawn follow-ups, I suspect (from reading) that these vary in quality and may even divert heavily from established canon; but that’s still a powerhouse potential behind what me and my mates found as merely passable celluloid fare.
 
I bring all of this up because just this week the kind folks at Arrow Video (aka Arrow Films) sent me a complimentary 4K UltraHD Blu-ray of the original release, and I wanted to share my thoughts on it and maybe highlight a little something for readers to watch for should they inevitably pick this one up for purchase.  I see it’s available on Amazon.com right here.
 
In the meantime, let’s get into the thicket …
​

(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:
“Linda Hamilton and Peter Horton star as a young couple who find themselves lost on the backroads of Nebraska, eventually winding up in the seemingly deserted town of Gatlin.  But the town is far from empty.  As the couple soon discover, it is inhabited by a twisted cult of murderous children, thirty for another blood sacrifice …”
 
Right out of the gate, let me qualify something as it relates to Horror releases and why I do cover them on SciFiHistory.Net: in short, many of these are not strictly Horror films.  In fact, I could make a strong argument for why a release like Children Of The Corn (1984) leans closer to traditional Fantasy while incorporating Horror elements instead of vice-versa (which is how most people classify the film).
 
For starters, there’s an attempt at world-building within the King story.  These kids aren’t homicidal murderers, per se: though they use a fair amount of farm implements to carry out their celebrated reign of terror, there’s a psychology and a madness behind their collective motivation.  Rather than killing blindly, they do so in order to maintain the relationship with their god-being.  They perform ritual sacrifices (on their own) for the purpose of pleasing he who walks behind the corn, knowing only them that they will be rewarded for their offerings with food and protection.  Rather than be pawns with an axe to grind (pun intended), they’ve built their own twisted culture requiring faith and a subservience to above.  Horror films traditionally have some dogma, but Children takes it many steps further in establishing a culture.
 
Second, there’s far more than just simple bloodlettings in Gatlin, the nicest little town in Nebraska.  While all of it appears to be tied to the central villain (something hidden within the corn), screenwriter George Goldsmith never quite clarifies everything.  Where did this otherworldly power come from?  We see early in the film that’s it’s guiding Gatlin’s youth – as evidence by the opening slaughter within the town diner – but we’re given very little else to go on.  Is it from space?  Did it rise up from Hell?  Or is it little more than the delusions of an emerging sociopath?
 
In some sequences, the corn itself as portrayed as being alive – almost sentient – in the way it manipulates our main characters – Bert and Vicky (Horton and Hamilton, respectively) – and this is used to principally establish the overall mystique of the setting.  But there’s another creature who apparently lives beneath the corn; though we never see it, we are treated to sequences wherein the ground is disturbed in much the way director Ron Underwood so masterfully conveyed his “Graboids” in the 1990 Horror/Comedy Tremors.  Still later, there’s an evil mist which devours the children’s sacrificial victims, and in the big climax we’re treated to a mounting red wall of living supernatural energy which appears to ultimately ‘personify’ the central force of evil.  Clearly, one might not be too far off the mark in classifying Children more as a traditional monster movie as opposed to mainstream Horror.
 
Sometimes the inherent nebulousness of a script gets in my way of enjoying it as much as I should; and that’s largely the case here.  I prefer my baddies definitively presented.  I want to know what or who it is the protagonists are facing, and director Fritz Kiersch’s debut feature widely misses that mark.  While there’s absolutely nothing wrong with the psychological fear that serves as Children’s pronounced undercurrent (these circumstances could happen anywhere that a small town remains cut-off and isolated from the outside world), I think it’s dangerous to hold back clear answers on monster specifics as that tends to push the audiences a bit too far into that old “suspension of disbelief” concept.  They’re willing to “suspend” if promised or potential answers are forthcoming; when they receive few or none, then they’re likely to leave the theatres a bit jaundiced by the whole affair.
 
So … with all of that out of the way, how does Children Of The Corn work as a film?
 
Well …
 
Again, I’m forced to fall back on my personal background.
​

Having grown up in the Midwest and (yes!) having endured the experience of being truly lost in a cornfield, I really only find Children effective in conveying the sheer terror of its central fright.  In fact, I’d argue its single strongest sequence is when our two heroes, Vicky and Bert, are quite literally captured within the corn, driving through an increasingly narrow makeshift road where the stalks are reaching higher and higher above their car as they lumber onward trying to find safety.  Though one is ‘out in the open,’ being outmatched by Mother Nature itself can be a truly claustrophobic experience.  You’re utterly surrounded.  You’ve no possible way to know where to go.  You’ll likely never feel smaller or more inconsequential in your life!
 
Kiersch’s direction works well in this sequence, and I wish to God (or to ‘He Who Walks Behind The Rows’) that he had found more time for this effect in the feature.  Instead, I thought the rest of the flick reduced corn to little more than set dressing, and there’s just no amount of nuance that can elevate mere props to the point of terror-inducing baubles of the supernatural.  They’re great for atmosphere, true, which the film does to affable measures with the stalks, the ears, and even some terrific children’s artwork; but they’re not gonna inspire legitimate Horror.  Instead, they give you something to think about – to ponder over – but to elicit pure fright?  Meh.  Only powerful, indisputable, and definable images do that on film.
 
As for the actors?
 
The talent is all good.  Horton makes the most of his leading man role.  Hamilton succumbs a bit too easily to the ‘damsel-in-distress’ mode here – the hallmark of an undercooked script with little depth to plumb – but she certainly conveys the confusion, angst, and distress required for the part.  What truly fuels the film’s narrative – what gives Children its greatest narrative punch – is the work of (surprise surprise!) relative newcomers Courtney Gains (as the villainous Malachai) and John Franklin (the town’s humanly-flawed spiritual leader): their creative tête-à-tête is the stuff of classical drama, the kind wherein power gets so obviously misunderstood in such a way that it dooms us all.  The fact that they’re visually mismatched – Franklin is short and Gains practically towers over his eventual Biblical adversary – only further strengthens the beats as laid out by the script and cleverly punctuated on film by the director.  And, yes, the film could’ve been strengthened by more of them and less of the imprecise demons.
 
I’d be remiss in my duties if I didn’t say something about Children’s preoccupation with religion.
 
Though I’ve never met Stephen King, I’ve read enough of his works as well as articles about him to believe he has personal criticisms of faith, a sentiment that gets reflected in much of what he writes.  (His 1978 epic The Stand really brings it front-and-center in a way unlike other works muster.)  At some points in Children, either King or director Kiersch or screenwriter Goldsmith seem to be railing against the practice of faith, a curious type of collectivism if there ever were.  While I think it’s always easy to throw barbs at the purest of the Bible-thumpers, much of what appears here is extreme – almost to the point of outright caricature – and I end up finding it repetitive after the first swipe.  When you’re too obvious about that which you may despise, you run the risk about becoming your own unintentional villain.  Let your work speak for itself: when you have to almost insert your own beliefs to serve a plot point, haven’t you become the Bible thumper?
 
Just food for thought.  Consider it manna from the Heavens if you prefer.
​

Children Of The Corn (1984) is produced by Hal Roach Studios and New World Pictures.  Distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by the reliable Arrow Video.  As for the technical specifications?  This 4K UltraHD Blu-ray looks and sounds so damn good that I’d caution (as I sometimes do) to stop looking at the imperfection of grains and whatnot in favor of just enjoying the film.  It is what it is.  As for the special features?  Wow.  As usual, Arrow never disappoints, dishing up multiple commentaries (I’m probably going to pen a separate article on those), some making-of shorts, a feature about a deleted sequence, and even a short film adaptation (Disciples Of The Corn) of the King story that’s an incredible find, indeed.  You can’t go wrong with this set.
 
RECOMMENDED.  While imperfect in ways that many smaller features are, Children Of The Corn works as a serviceable adaptation from the early works of author Stephen King.  While the total package may not rise to the level of other adaptations, there are still solid reasons to explore this one, including two good performances by newcomers Gains and Franklin.  The modestly budgeted monster movie (yes, I said it, and I stand by it) manages to detassel your reservations from reality, but it really needed a bit more pollination was it to stand the true test of time as other fright features have.  A cult classic, you say?  There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video provided me with a Blu-ray screener of Children Of The Corn 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

​Some films age well while others suffer.
 
It’s true to suggest that a film may eventually find itself held in higher esteem through the passage of time.  For reasons I’ve never quite understood, it took 1941’s Citizen Kane a decade or two to be fully realized as the brilliant flick it remains today.  (Sorry, kids: I know it isn’t SciFi, but it’s still one big damn masterpiece.)  Though I can fully grasp why it wasn’t seen by as large an audience as possible upon its initial release, that doesn’t quite explain how it took our betters the better part of two decades to appreciate how groundbreaking a feature it truly was.  The film never changed … but miraculously our collective opinion of it did.
 
By contrast, films typically christened as ‘cult’ features right out of the gate largely continue to be just that even with the passing of years.  (For those unaware, traditionally cult films – even upon their release – appear to be producing to appeal to a very specific and smaller audience than mainstream; as the film ages, it’s still largely found to inspire a small group as new viewers discover it generationally.)  Though aspects of the cult flick might give one the impression that it’s meant to be embraced by the greater public-at-large, the finished product has a way of chiseling down the focus to the point wherein vastly fewer folks appreciate the message or appreciate the story’s charm.  Here, the passage of time usually means that the film will be unlikely to find break-out success ever but instead will be a source of affection for those who find it, accept it for what it is, and celebrate whatever uniqueness they find between the opening and closing credits.
 
I’d argue that’s been the fate of Ridley Scott’s interesting Legend from 1985: cult status.
 
While it’s devastating box office underscores how few folks partook of the feature when it was first in theatres, there’s still no denying the film’s footprint, which quite possibly paved the way for the more popular cinematic Fantasies that followed in its wake even one or two decades later.  (Here’s looking at you, The Lord Of The Rings.)  Though it’s an uneven if not problematic experience – one that quite probably put a crimp in the careers of those involved making it possible – there’s still no denying Legend’s cinematic brilliance, a reality even more pronounced with my seeing it for the first time in after 36 years.
 
So Legend has and hasn’t aged well, particularly, but that doesn’t make its shortcomings any less pronounced.  Warts and all, it deserves to be seen.
​

​(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ read on …)
 
From the product packaging: “In an idyllic, sun-dappled forest, the pure-hearted Jack takes his true love Princess Lil to see a pair of unicorns frolicking at the forest’s edge.  Little do they know, however, that the Lord of Darkness has dispatched his minions to capture the unicorns and sever their horns so that he may plunge the world into everlasting night.  After Lili and the unicorns are taken prisoner, Jack must team with a group of forest creatures and descend into Darkness’ subterranean lair to face off against the devilish creature before it is too late.”
 
I’ve always found any discussion surrounding Ridley Scott’s Legend a bit troublesome, mostly because the film has nearly everything in it that I tend to love but somehow the completed version is something I don’t.  An otherworldly setting?  Check.  An impressive cast?  Check.  A compelling adventure set in the land of mystery, mayhem, and magic?  Meh.
 
Now, let me express right up front that I think much of my woe involving the otherwise memorable film centers around Scott’s choice of Tom Cruise to play the heroic Jack.
 
Indeed, Cruise is interesting as ‘Jack,’ but because the cut of the U.S. theatrical release was so poorly constructed the resulting story really gave his forest ‘being’ (for lack of a better descriptor) so little motivation.  Is he human?  Is he … some kind of tree urchin?  An imp?  A spirit?  Well, we never know.  (We’re certainly never told.)  And in a world populated by non-human beings, that matters.
 
Yes, Jack felt responsible for Darkness’ rise given that he decided to show the unicorns to Lili – the true guilty culprit here for her daring to touch the untouchable creatures – but there just wasn’t enough dialogue or explanation for this viewer to accept Jack’s life-changing choice.  Clearly, he stands for peace and tranquility, not conflict or derring-do, but somehow Jack masterfully develops fighting skills and a warrior’s intellect in the course of what appears to be a single day.  (As someone who has shot a bow-and-arrow, let me assure you that it cannot be mastered in a single day.)  In his own words, Jack’s never held a weapon in his hand, and yet he learns how to best those who have (sword, shield, bow) in a record amount of time.  Unbelievable.
 
Dare I suggest that Jack might very well be the silver screen’s ultimate Mary Sue?
​

If I set aside my reservations about embracing Cruise in such a role, then one might think I’d have more praise for Scott’s singular foray into true fairy tale Fantasy … but yet what remains of Legend still falls equally short of legendary status.
 
Mia Sara is, well, good in the role of the princess: while she definitely looks the part, it’s hard for me to distinguish exactly what age she’s representing here.  Though a first glance might peg her to be in her teens, her dialogue alternates between a sing-song pre-teen and the blissfully unaware child.  Certainly, she’s meant to be of an age where she comprehends how influential her feminine wiles make her (we see her repeatedly exploiting them at every turn); but even that perspective kinda/sorta pushes her toward the lower end of that age bracket as opposed to that of a royal youth.  Aren’t ‘our betters’ told to respect the power they have over the regular folks in whatever era is represented?  Or is all of her naivety really just a character flaw for a young woman transitioning into adulthood, leaving what the audience is left to experience being her maturation process?
 
If that’s the case, then why are we never assured she’s learned her lesson at the end?  Instead, she’s rewarded.  With everlasting love.
 
Sadly, William Hjortsberg never defines much of Lili or any of the other characters in his script.  Though each may be given what a viewer could accept as a ‘great scene,’ I’d still argue that these moments should be additive (instead of singular) – building upon one another – in such a way so that the audience sees them blossoming into the heroic battalion celebrated in the film’s final battle.  Instead, the moments are largely wasted as either distracting vignettes that serve little development or – even worse – merely comic relief.
 
As an example, Brown Tom (played by Cork Hubbert) endures a near-death experience when apparently shot in the head (with an arrow).  As the scene plays out, he’s clearly down for the count, leaving the villainous forces full access to capturing not only the remaining unicorn as well as the princess.  What we learn later is that he wasn’t shot in the head – in fact, he wasn’t wounded in the slightest – yet still chose to play dead while the bad guys did their worst.  Never is his pantomime explained or given any greater context other than being entirely self-serving.  What did he learn from it?  How does this advance the character?  And does he seek to redeem himself from taking a siesta while others are captured because of his negligence?  Alas … nothing.  With no other context given, how are we not to assume he’s an out-and-out coward who’ll abandon the mission if he can save himself?
 
This lack of development plagues every character here, even the incredible Tim Curry who puts up an undeniably masterful performance as Darkness himself.  Clearly, he’s meant to be the embodiment of evil in all of this fantastical world; as such, you would think that Hjortsberg’s script would have the character constantly trying to one-up his own evil machinations.  This is true for the most part, but at one point in the story Darkness professes his love for Lili.  Instead of explaining how this could be within the realm of possibility for someone as lecherous, Hjortberg and Scott’s film merely lets the moment go to waste and hang in the air like some twisted bitter irony.  Love?  How can evil truly love anything other than evil?  Lili challenges it, certifying it as completely out of character, so why leave it unexplained?  Are we meant to make more of it, or does it demonstrate that pure, unrepentant evil isn’t entirely possible?  We never know.
 
Putting a bit more thought into it, perhaps the storytellers here were offering up an allegory on temptation.
 
Clearly, Jack is tempted by his feelings for Lili so strongly that he not only risks his life to regain her ring (as a contest for marriage) but also to hazard showing her the world’s only remaining magical unicorns, seemingly the very source for balance in this universe.  While he never lays out the dangers for doing either, it’s clear that Jack has a minor change of heart once his world is plunged in the dark.  Instead of confronting Lili, he’s instead sent on a quest to put things right.  Lili is constantly using her innocence to get her way throughout the film; her relationships – if not her entire existence -- are all founded on seduction – either seducing with her looks or seducing with his charm – and is never really forced to pay the price for wielding such a weapon on others.  Darkness is tempted by power.  The forest creatures – while said to be pure – don’t escape this narrative fray as even Oona wishes to tempt Jack into a relationship, and she’s even willing to trick him by taking on Lili’s appearance.  Undoubtedly, there is temptation at every turn!
 
But, in the end, what are we to make of all this temptation?
 
Well, I’ve the temptation to point out that very little is learned that’ll served this world the way it should.  Jack is rewarded with Lili’s love; Lili is rewarded with Jack’s heart; Oona is forgiven; and Darkness is even deconstructed into a constellation which – by all indications – could return for a sequel (if we’re to believe the film’s final scene).  What’s to stop all of this from happening all over again?
 
That would be the film’s box office take, which remains abysmal.
​

Legend (1985) is produced by Legend Production Company and Embassy International Pictures.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by Arrow Video.  As for the technical specifications?  These Arrow packages are downright celebratory: very, very few outlets offer up the incredible high-quality package of sights and sounds like they do, and it’s no wonder why they’re pretty much cornered the market with releases meant for fans of the films they distribute.  As for the special features?  It’s an incredible, incredible assortment of behind-the-scenes features, photos, and commentaries that will no doubt delight anyone who dips his toes into the realm of cinema.  (Also, look for more specifics on each individual review I pen for the different cuts available on the release.)
 
Recommended.  Honestly, U.S. theatrical cut of Ridley Scott’s Legend is a travesty when one comes to realize that it’s one of the shortest versions available: harkening back to my experience with it in theatres, I remember being more confused by some of its narrative than is ever a good thing, and all these years later I’d still argue that Tom Cruise just wasn’t right for the role.  Is it worth seeing?  Oh, without a doubt, as this one was definitely produced near the height of the director’s creativity streak; and I challenge anyone to find as many compelling and artistic visuals from any other director of this era.  While the film was a box office failure, it no doubt influenced many, many other storytellers to venture into Fantasy.  It’s cult status remains firm to this day.  But, if you can, seek out the longer edits for a vastly more coherent encounter.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Video provided me with a Blu-ray copy of Legend (1985) 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

The works of Stephen King have been a curious fascination for Hollywood since the author truly ‘broke through’ commercially in the mid-1970’s.  Though I could be wrong, I believe his first novel adapted for television was Salem’s Lot, which followed three years after Carrie (1976) established his unique look on our world could be brought to the silver screen.  Since then, it’s been one after the other: some have amped up the Horror and Fantasy while others delivered a bit more dramatic nuance as some of entertainment’s best Thespians joined in to deliver the chills and spills.
 
Still, you could probably count on one hand the number of adaptations that came out in the 1980’s that were actually effective motion pictures, and I do say this with nothing but respect to all involved in crafting them for the screen.  Horror was transitioning in the 80’s: as the industry just began tinkering with the technological advances pushing Science Fiction’s special effects forward, and I dare say some of these early experiences were less-than-spectacular.  Frankly, the cost for using these effects was very high in their infancy; and Horror had truly built much of its reputation on being a low-cost-high-return prospect for film investors, so it stands to reason that incorporating more visually credible scares would be met with much skepticism.  When practical effects worked, why risk a still-being-proven CGI visual treat that could run over budget?  It just made little sense.
 
And that’s where a flick like Children Of The Corn (1984) enters the mix.
 
Serving as director Fritz Keirsch’s first big screen film, Children looks like a something springing from a largely untested director.  I remember seeing it in theatres, and I remember thinking that it was visually flat with very, very little depth.  As someone who grew up in the Midwest, I had seen more than my fair share of cornfields: sometimes these expansive fields of healthy, green stalks could stretch on for miles and miles, making their endless existence an easy target for Horror and Suspense writers.  Instead of focusing on their breadth, Children treated corn more like props, with little to no true focus on the dizzying disorientation anyone might experience by simply being dropped in the middle of one with no idea of knowing where to go or how to get out.  Trust me when I say it can be intoxicatingly frightening, and that alone is a reality that could’ve better serve the film.
 
But I digress: this isn’t a review, per se, but one will definitely be forthcoming as the folks at Arrow Video provided me with a screener Blu-ray release for Children Of The Corn that I’ll be happily going through this week.  All I wanted to do now was bring my readers aware that the flick is available for purchase this week up on Amazon.com.  Fans should pick one up at their convenience.  In the meantime, I’ll put the relevant product information below as provided by the folks at Blu-ray.com.

-- EZ
​

My, my, my ...

Back in 1985, I was one of the brave souls who took in Ridley Scott's curious Legend while it was experiencing its original run at the U.S. box office.  Because I'm a diehard lover of most things genre, I do remember the experience ... and I remember finding it a bit uneven.  Essentially, what I recall of my issues with it were two-fold: first, it wasn't all that definitive on what it wanted to be (Fantasy, fairy tale, something else); and, second, Tom Cruise just wasn't right for the part.  Like Scott's other films, it's loaded with incredible visuals; it just felt like an uneven meal that didn't quite sit the way his other works had to date.

Still, the film built more of a cult following than it did anything else (in my opinion).  Boasting an incredible performance by Tim Curry (who's really only in the second half of the flick), Legend barely earned back its $25 million budget (with combined U.S. and global box office), and it pretty much disappeared quickly.  While some have suggested the film was an early blow the Tom Cruise's silver screen clout, I'd argue that the actor was really just getting started in his career: 1983's Risky Business pretty much put him on-the-map, but it wasn't until the summer of 1986 when Top Gun had the blossoming talent had an ego writing checks that his body couldn't cash.

I've read that others (in academia and film history) blame the film's dismal showing to its handling at the studio.  The U.S. release was rumored to be a crude hatchet job of what Scott intended for his audiences, and perhaps there's some truth to that as may be better understood by consumers as Arrow Video has released just today an incredible, incredible Blu-ray collection.  As a member of the media, I've been forwarded a copy (thanks to all involved in making this possible), so I'll be spending much of my free time this week watching and penning some reviews/articles on my observations.

But do you really want to know what's available in this package?  I'm copying and pasting the info from the reliable Blu-ray.Com just to make you aware.  Enjoy!
​
​-- EZ

Oh, dear Lord, say it isn't so?

The dreaded reboot wheel has taken another spin, it would seem, and the news is out from TV Line earlier today that no less than Michael J. Straczynski himself has been commissioned to prepare a full reboot of his own Babylon 5 for The CW.

Ahem.

Hey, look.  I bear absolutely no ill will toward Babylon 5 at all.  I've mentioned in this space before that it was a show that I just didn't quite 'get' when it aired in its original rotation on the Boob Tube.  Once all of it came out on home video, I did try to get through it ... but failed.  Since I had the disks, I even gave it a second try about a year later; alas, it just didn't take.  In fact, it wasn't until the late Jerry Doyle challenged me (somewhat) via a Twitter post to give it a try for the full run that I finally got through all of it.  Though I've never watched the standalone telefilms from that universe, I conceded that what I did enjoy was good, not nearly as great (for me) as those who'd championed its wares online for so long.

I think my central issue with it is that for an obvious Science Fiction show far too much of the dialogue felt like it was pure Fantasy.  Many of these characters were given speeches and snippets which sounded like they'd be more at home in the worlds of The Lord Of The Rings or even Game Of Thrones.  They spoke far too theatrically for my tastes, so I had some reservations about investing in their separate journeys.  Again, sometimes truly liking a show is a matter of personal taste, and while I loved the overall arc of the show I just didn't care as much for the characters as I needed for all of it to resonate.

Now, I'd never argue that the show shouldn't be seen or enjoyed.  That's just not my thing.  Long-time readers here know that I'm all for more SciFi and Fantasy as opposed to less.  Straczynski's plotting was pretty epic, and his definitely had a very gifted cast with which to weave his delicate webs.  But, at the end of the day, my single journey through his franchise -- despite it taking a few attempts -- will likely be enough for this lifetime.

Though I'm typically not a fan of full reboots (I do prefer continuations or spin-off incarnations as opposed to simply starting everything all over), I may be more inclined to give this one a look if and when it finally makes it onto television.  Clearly, Babylon 5 is a property that a studio could exploit the Hades out of; and I'm glad that this is happening with Straczynski's involvement as opposed to an all-new creative crew.  It's his baby; if he wants to give it a fresh spin for a new generation of wokeness, then hats off to him for persevering.  He'll definitely have an audience.

I'll keep my eyes peeled for updates, and share 'em if I see any.

​-- EZ

Sweet mother of dragons!  I did not see that coming!

I'm going to mention right up front here that I've read absolutely no commentary on the news that broke just this morning, namely that Russell T. Davies -- the man who helped bring the BBC's Doctor Who back from hiatus and onto the airwaves with a whole new generation back in 2005 -- is returning to the show after Chris Chibnall and Jodie Whittaker depart with the conclusion of Season 13.

Huh.

Yeah, I did not see that one coming.

Anyway, let me also mention right up front that unlike so many others I wasn't as enamored with Davies' run.  Yes, it was quite good, but at some point I thought it got a bit too overlapped and jumbled together, so much so I couldn't quite follow some of the through-lines with the characters as they developed.  Again, for clarity's sake: yes, it was quite good.  I just didn't go gaga over it the way so many others did.

Still, I have to wonder why Davies would want to come back and even why the BBC would want to bring him back.  It's a curious choice.  Clearly, he's done an awful lot with the property, but he left wanting to go and do other things, which he's done and done quite well.  Is he coming back because he now has more stories to tell, or does his return bode something more?  Does the BBC believe by simply bringing him back into the fray they can regain some of Who's luster, which seems to have waned a bit under Chibnall and Whittaker?  Or could the BBC be thinking that maybe it's time to put Who out to pasture, and what better way to bring the man who engineered its comeback to do the same with its swan song?

Like others in the business of commenting on programming, I tend to overthink these things; and I would imagine that some may be having the same thoughts as I this morning.  In the history of television programming, I think it's rare to welcome a departing creative head back into the fold; but there aren't exactly all that many franchises in TV corners that possess Who's longevity.  Dare I suggest that something greater or grander could be afoot with such a development?

Given the reality that Who seems to have fallen into a rut (not in a bad way) of spacing out its seasons over multiple years, perhaps Davies' return could be an attempt to clean that up, to return the show to a sense of normalcy on the programming dial.  I know fans online have wondered about why they've had to wait so long -- to endure these unusual hiatuses -- and who can blame them?  I'd be happy with maybe a telefilm thrown in here and there if I had to wait two to three seasons for new episodes; but I've no idea how the showrunners could work out that dynamic the way the BBC manages its properties now.

In any event, I suspect there will be ample speculation in the days ahead as to whether or not this could mean something more than it does.  We'll all be spinning like TARDISes in no time at all.

​-- EZ 

Ach.  I've mentioned before that I'm no big fan of memorial posts, and this is only because I find them mostly depressing.  I've always cautioned that I'd rather find a means to celebrate a person's life (and works) while they're with us; but as death is a necessarily part of one's existence, it is with a heavy heart that I pass along the news that Willie Garson has left us.

Granted, Garson wanted all that influential a player in the world of genre.  His face immediately reminds me of his funnier bits from HBO's Sex And The City serial (yes, I did watch some of it during its run).  But a quick review of his IMDB.com profile shows a few footprints worthy of mention.

From his incredible run of 170 different screen credits, his first foray into our corners is a brief appearance in 1990's Brain Dead from Concorde Pictures.  Also in 1990, he enjoyed some more screen time aboard Repossessed, a Horror/Comedy from Carolco Pictures.  After that, small roles in such genre staples as Twin Peaks, Quantum Leap (as Lee Harvey Oswald), Groundhog Day (1993), VR.5, and Buffy The Vampire Slayer followed; and I would suspect all of these helped increase the actor's visibility within the industry.  After those entries, it certainly looks like he started to get some larger roles, including appearances in Star Trek: Voyager, The X-Files, the Steven Spielberg produced miniseries Taken, and even Stargate SG-1 for good measure.

Alas, an ending awaits us all, but we'll always have his work to remember him by.

​-- EZ

​Occasionally I’m asked about why I cover Horror films on SciFiHistory.Net.
 
My answer has always been that I don’t cover Horror films.  (Haha!  Take that, haters!)  But I do have an interest in reviewing and featuring films that dabble in the realms of Fantasy; and some Horror films – like ghost stories, mystical worlds between our own and another, and the afterlife – certainly fit the working definition of Fantasy even if only superficially.  Now, you may disagree and that’s perfectly fine … yet it won’t stop me from taking a look from time-to-time at features like The Power (2021), a kinda/sorta modern day chiller (and more) from writer-director Corinna Faith.
 
In short, I found the film to be a bit of a creative misfire, not so much an error as it is a miscalculation of messages.  Some of this may be owed to the fact that I’m a man and I took issue with her chosen depiction of males; but if you bear with me then I’m happy to go into a bit more analysis on why ‘too much’ – especially in Horror – might diffuse both your good ideas and your bad to the point where your audience is left with nothing but murkiness … much like this film.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the product packaging:
“London, 1974.  As Britain prepares for electrical blackouts to sweep across the country, trainee nurse Val arrives for her first day at the crumbling East London Royal Infirmary.  With most of the patients and staff evacuated to another hospital, Val must work the night shift in the empty building.  Within these walls lies a deadly secret, forcing Val to face her own traumatic past in order to confront the malevolent power that’s intent on destroying everything around her.”
 
It's difficult to make all that much of The Power mostly because there’s so little there: at just over ninety minutes, I think about 2/3rds of it felt like scenes of lead star Rose Williams simply walking around in the dark, poorly-lit hospital.  Don’t get me wrong: I’m all in favor of creating the proper atmosphere required to tell a vengeful ghost story, but storytellers still should be required to have a tale to tell.  What there is sprinkled liberally between the opening and closing credits is threadbare (I’m being generous), and I’m a viewer who needs a bit more substance shone on all the principal players instead of one who suckles from a steady stream of politics.
 
As one who has read more than a bit of material on the paranormal and the occult, I can tell you that, yes, ghosts are traditionally depicted as vengeful spirits who have failed to ‘pass over’ for any number of reasons.  The most basic?  Well, that would be some evil presence or committed deed has tied the poor, unfortunate soul to our plane of existence; only when this event is resolved can the departed finally find eternal peace … and this is the playground at which Faith has opted to make her stand.  As can happen, there’s a bit of demonic possession involved – how else can the ghost convince the living to do her bidding – but I’ll avoid going through the particulars of how modern psychology has debunked that phenomenon as it would take all the fun out of an already grim ninety minutes.
 
The driving force, however, to any ghost story worth its spooks is the past: something went wrong, and a merciless spirit remains hellbent on putting it right.
 
Where Faith’s script fails is she relies centrally on infusing this tale set in the past (1974) about the past (the rape of a young patient named Gail) with contemporary social justice messaging.  Faith’s position – as best as I can tell readers – is that “all men are bad.”  (In case you missed it, The Power is being “heralded” by critics as a feminist picture, not that there’s anything wrong with it.)  Pairing today’s message to the world of the supernatural (in my opinion) just doesn’t work.
 
Revenge is one thing.  It’s a powerful motivator, especially for ghosts.  But outright hatred – as in the film’s attitude toward men – goes narratively too far.
 
Audiences come to ghost stories for the chills.  For the most part, it’s pure escapism: they’re willing to suspend a disbelief of ghosts, spirits, phantoms, or demons (if they don’t believe in them, that is) because it’s all meant in good fun (bloody or not).  The thrills on the screen are meant as entertainment: while the yarns might contain some passing message or metaphor (i.e. be good to children; never trust a man in a hockey mask; don’t spend the night in a graveyard; etc.), these lessons are generally easy to swallow in exchange for the elevated heart rate they endure as part of the exchange.
 
But when you’re using these frights to condemn an entire race – namely males – I think you’ve crossed into Wackyland.
​

In short, The Power doesn’t have a single adult male who behaves responsibly, admirably, or with a moral compass whatsoever.  Clearly, a world wherein every single man is evil doesn’t exist; nor would I accept a world wherein every single woman was equally bereft of principles.  I don’t care what you believe personally, but when you try to force me into stories wherein only one gender (of the 67 genders we’re told exist in the modern age) commands either all the good or all the evil then your Fantasy construct has gone too far over the edge.  As a storyteller, you’ve fractured my ability to suspend disbelief – the very disbelief required for me to accept the world you’ve created in the first place.  Horror only works (at least, for me, and I work very hard in my reviews to only speak for me) when it’s grounded in reality; The Power isn’t, despite Faith’s best efforts to convince me otherwise.
 
Setting aside the obvious political messaging at work constantly within the film, the viewer is left with too little material to make for a welcome diversion.  It’s ninety minutes of walking in the dark with only a handful of scares, and even those start to make less sense the more one thinks about them.  (Was this meant to be an allegory for life?  I’m uncertain.)  While I’d agree with anyone that actress Rose Williams (as Val) does a solid job handling the highs and lows of script, it’s almost like the performance ends up wasted in this empty space.  (Is that how women feel?  I’m not a woman, so I don’t know.  Do they all feel like they’re lost in a void?  Is that feminism’s contention?)  Williams commands an incredible range here and even seems to master some small nuances required to fully ‘sell’ demonic possession to the non-believers.  I just wish she had been paired with a better script.
 
A quick rundown of Faith’s career on IMDB.com gives me the impression that she’s recently turned her sights from documentary work to fiction.  (There are a few script mentions, but this does appear to be her first full-length outing.)  If that’s the case, then I suspect that she still has a bright future.  The Power felt like it wanted to take too big a bite with too few teeth, and much of my complaint with it would obviously be tempered had I shared her unique worldview.  Outside of Williams’ work, there’s no subtlety here – to a person with a hammer, all problems look like a nail – so perhaps some distillation from more projects might help this writer/director find a better way to communicate ‘inclusively’ instead of so ‘exclusively.’
 
Otherwise, we’re all just stumbling in the dark.  Pun intended.
 
The Power (2021) is produced by Air Street Films and the British Film Institute.  Distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by the reliable RLJE Films and Shudder.  As for the technical specifications?  This one feels like an upgraded independent feature; as such, there’s clearly a fair amount of resources put to work here, though so very much of the film takes place in the dark and is occasionally hard to see that I couldn’t comment any further than that.  If you’re looking for special features?  Meh.  There’s a photo gallery and a commentary track from the director, her star, and (I believe) her cinematographer that fills with some nice memories but very little substance.  Honestly, I couldn’t finish it as the various anecdotes just weren’t all that interesting to me.  But give it a try if you like those things.
 
(Mildly) Recommended but for serious ghost story purists only as far too much of The Power lacks any real energy.  Aside from a good central performance from Williams, there just isn’t much too the film.  In Hollywood circles, when you don’t have enough story, then you push the agenda … and that’s all the film offers: it’s an obvious anti-men hate screed where only the women try to make the world a better place.  How do I know this?  Well, every single male in cinematic sight is only interested in self-gratification or covering up the unlawful self-gratifying efforts of their fellow males.  Swapping misogyny for misandry might be good when the awards season comes ‘round, but it’s good for little else.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at RLJE Films provided me with a screener DVD copy of The Power (2021) 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.

Honestly, I’ve never been that big a Marvel fan.
 
It’s fair to say, though, that I find their movies good, just not all that memorable.  Clearly, there’s a mountain of effort put into each one of them; and long-time producer Kevin Feige has gone the extra mile in cultivating an environment that – even lightly – strings this growing universe together in ways that maintain the core audience with some access points for new viewers to jump aboard.  It’s their workmanship that I respect, even though the franchise might endure a bit of creative backlash from other directors from time-to-time.  (Haters gonna hate.)
 
But because I’m not a Marvel enthusiast, I typically don’t see their features in theaters.  I wait for them to either come out on home video or the inevitable cable release.  Again, as their universe just doesn’t tickle me personally, I’ve no investment in seeing them right away.
 
Still, there was enough positive word-of-mouth about Shang-Chi And The Legend Of The Ten Rings (2021) that the wifey and I decided to take it in over the weekend.  We were hungry to see something on the big screen anyway, so this was an easy choice.  While I’ve no desire to pen a full review, I thought I’d offer up a few words on the picture as I do think it’s deserving of some perspective.
 
First, what was this hubbub from Feige about Shang-Chi being a bit of “an experiment?”
 
Meh.  I think all the producer was trying to articulate (and probably could’ve done so more astutely) is that the film’s subject matter is a bit of a stretch from what Marvel’s done before.  The Iron Man series of flicks was just as much about Tony Stark’s journey to understanding and accepting his role in this wide, wide universe as it was its gadgetry.  The Guardians Of The Galaxy took viewers on more of a wild ride, showing them that heroes can come in all shapes, sizes, and … erm … mental capacities.  And The Avengers reinforced that even those of us with the most unique perspectives can ‘assemble’ and work together – to rise above our differences – when the mission’s success unites us across purposes.
 
In contrast, the world of Shang-Chi is largely about Eastern mysticism, how the forces of Good and Evil might be tied to elements unseen.  It postulates there’s another world out there in the ether, one that defies our attempts to control much less understand it.  Dealing with it can turn us against our fellow man.  Even the strongest of us can make a mistake when we’re misled, and the sacrifice to put things right in the end might cost us our very place in existence.  Such subject matter is a big meatier than, say, Ant-Man’s quest to save the world and get the girl or even Captain America’s desire to stake out the moral high ground no matter the consequence … and perhaps that’s all Feige was trying to say.  Again, he could’ve said it better, but at this point it is what it is.
 
Second, I didn’t see Shang-Chi as much of a superhero, certainly not in comparison to some of what’s come down the pike from the Mouse House.
 
This point is a bit harder to distinguish, so you’ll pardon me if I have to largely stick with my impressions here.  The other major players in the Marvel Movie Universe have costumes which help represent who they are; yet Shang-Chi’s ‘uniform’ – if that’s even an accurate term – is fairly non-descript.  He dresses fairly plainly.  Yes, there are the rings he inevitably wears on his arms; but up until that point he’s mostly a man in (somewhat) spandex, and it’s pretty passe.  His appearance lacks the cinematic and patriotic flourish of Captain America; it definitely sacrifices the high-tech wizardry that is so much of Iron Man’s personae; and it’s nothing as nuanced nor intricate as Doctor Strange’s living fabrics.
 
Shang-Chi could be anyone you pass on the street, with the exception of the rings.  He’s more of a street fighter throughout most of the feature anyway, and – as a consequence—there’s no need for anything flashy, showy, or dynamic.  He just needs his smarts and his fists, and he puts them both to good use.
 
Lastly, the Fantasy’s success relies heavily on comedy; and that’s definitely a bit of a departure for the Marvel series.
 
Okay, yes, yes, and yes: there have been funny moments in every Marvel feature.  Comic relief has peppered their features not so much because screenwriters craft them so well but more likely because comedy is needed to balance out the moments of tension.  These films are efficient, if nothing else, so sticking in a good joke here and there is just part of the formula.  What makes Shang-Chi different is that the humor is vastly more organic and part-and-parcel of Shaun (played by Simu Liu) and Katy’s (a breakout job by comedienne and actress Awkwafina) relationship: she’s constantly throwing barbs his way, and he’s always trying to maintain that ‘aw shucks’ partnership.  It’s this chemistry that is definitely a stronger part of Ten Rings’ foundation than arguably any other Marvel flick, though I would agree that Guardians Of The Galaxy is a close second.
 
But there’s a thematic difference between Guardians and Ten Rings that bears mention.  Guardians is a cast of wise-cracking irregulars.  They’re constantly trying to one-up each other, making their team dynamic always revolve around just who is superior in the context of the moment.  Each member is always trying to establish the dominant position.  In Ten Rings, there’s no contest between Shaun and Katy; he’s the affable sidekick to her merriment, and she agreeable takes the backseat when he’s called into fighting the forces of evil.  They understand their roles, and they’re never trying to surpass the other.  That’s the yin/yang of their relationship, and it’s played to perfection by these two gifted talents.
 
And I think this is why I enjoyed Ten Rings more than I have many of the Marvel films: it felt less and less like a superhero film in a superhero universe.  Yes, it had obvious tie-ins to the entire franchise; but it functioned much more independently as a greater Fantasy than the others.  While I could quibble with a creative choice here and even a director’s focus there, the feature’s independence helped me to stay in the moment and have fun with these characters and their particular circumstances.  That’s rare for a franchise that keeps adding three to four installments a year, and I thought it deserving of notice.

-- EZ

​I may be wrong – I have been before – but I’ve often said that comedies work best when you don’t have to overthink them.
 
In the 1980’s and early 1990’s, there were a string of cinematic comedies that kinda/sorta set the highwater mark for sheer unbridled lunacy: the films of David Zucker, Jim Abrahams, and Jerry Zucker embraced comedy in a way that had been sidelined since the flicks of Abbott and Costello and even the Marx Brothers put smiles on the faces of the audience.  Their breakout hit Airplane (1980) reinvigorated laughs at the box office in a way that had disappeared for a generation or two, showing studios that people would come back again and again and again to something that distracted them from their humdrum lives even if only for ninety minutes.  Top Secret (1984) turned their focus in a direction some found a bit too specific, but The Naked Gun: From The Files Of Police Squad (1988) but them back on top as they skewered the world of police crime procedurals that had populated the television dial since the 1950’s.  Hot Shots (1991) put the world of Tom Cruise’s Top Gun feature under their comic microscope; and it definitely cemented the fate of former critical darling Charlie Sheen, casting him once and for all into the realm of comedy where he flourished for three decades.
 
What made these motion pictures work is that each stuck to effectively up ending their respective genres or sub-genres (i.e.: Airplane focused on the popular air-themed disaster movies of the 1970’s).  Occasionally, the scripts would take an obvious or open swipe at something more popular from the era; but overall, the storytellers stuck with material that could be commonly tied back to their source material.  This constant banging of the drum eventually wore down the feature’s hardest critics, insuring that a good time was had by all.
 
While the horror genre essentially escaped the learned eyes of the Zucker, Abrahams, and Zucker trio (for a time), it did draw the attention of other filmmakers.  1974’s Young Frankenstein from the immortal comic genius of Mel Brooks perfectly satirizes the great monster movies of the 1930’s, and the film remains highly regarded by fans and critics even today.  2000’s Scary Movie cast its fawning love essentially on dismantling the teen-based horror flick, and it’s enjoyed continual cinematic existence through a handful of sequels.    Lesser attempts – 1981’s Saturday The 14th and 1978’s Attack Of The Killer Tomatoes – enjoy even cult status, largely because perhaps they’re too focused on one individual franchise or theme to enjoy broader acceptance.
 
Still, one thing was certain: there are big laughs hidden in big bloodshed.
 
2020’s Slaxx enters into the bloody fray by way the independent movie scene.  While it may not break any new ground nor build up an excessive body count, I’d argue it’s still a noble attempt.  Despite some missteps, the film still properly disassembles the contemporary slasher formula and puts it back together with the requisite number of laughs (or groans) necessary to find middling success, though it could’ve benefitted from sharper focus once the crap hits the fan in its second half.

​(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 encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the product packaging:
“A possessed pair of jeans is brought to life to punish the unscrupulous practices of a trendy clothing company.  Shipped to the company’s flagship store, the killer jeans proceed to wreak carnage on staff who are locked in overnight to set up the new collection.”
 
The best that can be said about Slaxx – and it’s definitely intended wholeheartedly as a compliment – is that it’s clearly all meant to be a silly comedy: there’s nothing in here which indicates that the filmmakers ever intended for any of this to be taken seriously.  No element of the script – from the curiously vague set-up to the mockery of the corporate retail store environment and all the way down to the ‘slashing’ of the victims – escapes their wrath.  Actually, it’s kinda/sorta nicely handled, much in the same way that those of us who grew up in the era of the Zucker, Abrahams, and Zucker comedies were rewarded with their unbridled zaniness.  Turn off your brain and settle in for the duration: you’ll likely enjoy what’s served up in under 80 lean and mean minutes.
 
Still, Slaxx fails to form fit the farce perfectly, much like these environmentally friendly jeans that bite off more than they can comfortably chew.
 
What works?
 
Well, there’s our lead Libby McClean (played by Romane Denis) – the fish out of water for our tale – who starts out simply naively following her passion to find the perfect jeans only to spend the night running for her life.  She imbues the film with the right amount of inexperience, gullibility, and girl-next-door unstated, mousy sexiness that it becomes expected for audiences to root for her, the way they would any damsel in distress in similarly themed genre pictures.  Then there’s the up-and-coming hipster store manager Craig (Brett Donahue), the smarmy faux-executive who has so bought hook, line, and sinker into the corporate philosophy that he practically drools self-help gobblety-gook.  He spends the bulk of the film so brainwashed by capitalist drivel that – once the bodies start piling up – he’ll stop at nothing to conceal the dirty deeds from his staff in mortal peril.  And I’d be a fool if I failed to point out how the film’s store for Canadian Cotton Clothiers lampoons the trendsetting Apple phone outlets, the Gap, and even Old Navy locations pitch perfectly … all the way down to the sterile environments, the obsessive color-coordination, and the inspirational signage encouraging customers to make the world a better place.

What doesn’t work?
 
Well, I’ve always warned that comedies are the hardest ‘sell’ in the world of arts.

​What each of us finds funny widely varies, and striking the perfect chord – one that resounds with the widest audience possible in order to guarantee box office success – relies largely on mixing the perfect formula and allowing it to saturate every component of the production.  Here, Slaxx takes its eyes off the prize in the second half when it turns away from some of the character-driven lunacy of the set-up in order to play in the realm of the traditional slasher film.  Obvious jokes become harder and harder to find – granted, there’s only so much funny about so much bloodshed – and what started out as one pair of homicidal jeans suddenly becomes a whole retail outlet of them with no explanation as to how that was accomplished.  (There was a hook in the set-up, but the hook gets dispelled once the “killer” identity is revealed.)  What little logic there was breaks down, and the ending really became more about piling on than it was about delivering expectations.
 
The best jokes get the best results when the punchline follows an effective set-up.  Slaxx works best in setting up its world – one not very different from the one you and I occupy – but I thought it lost sight of its punchline when storytellers Patricia Gomez and Elza Kephart abandoned its smart social satire in favor of its dumb slasher comedy.  A world where jeans can kill you – literally – is way, way, way out there; so perhaps they should’ve dialed back some of the smarts of its first half in favor of dumbing down the narrative.  The result may not have been as endearing or incisive, but at least it would’ve been even.  As it is, I’m not sure how much ‘rewatchability’ there is to Slaxx … and it’s that crash consumerism so ably caricatured in the first half that’s required to make a film of this type a commercial hit.
 
What started out so smart turned out dumb in the final reel … albeit benevolent … well, as benevolent as murderous denim can be. 
​

Slaxx (2020) is produced by EMA Films.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being handled by Shudder.  As for the technical specifications?  It all looks and sounds wonderfully, especially given the fact that its essentially a parody – production companies tend not to notice their own flaws, but this group clearly wanted to go the extra mile.  As for the special features?  Meh.  The disc includes a solid handful of behind-the-scenes bits, but they’re each barely a minute or two in length … and even then they’re chocked with so much footage from the feature that there’s very little substance to enjoy.  A bit of a missed opportunity if you ask me.
 
(Mildly) Recommended.  As imperfect as Slaxx is from concept to execution, the flaws are mostly benign.  (I’m apt to overthink my comedies from time-to-time, so you’ll have to pardon me my own excesses.)  I suppose its heart is in the right place, especially with its anti-conformity sentiments as it constantly mocks ‘big corporate capitalism’ in its first half only then to succumb to ‘routine slasher mentality’ in the second.  Yes, it was fun to watch … I just wish it could’ve been a bit smarter than its fabric.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Shudder provided me with a DVD screener of Slaxx (2020) 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