Though there are some citations which suggest that the ever-elusive Bigfoot has some historical grounding in the writings of indigenous people, I’d still argue that – as a cultural phenomenon – it ain’t that old.
 
In fact, it was most likely the 1967 Patterson-Gimlin film that truly sparked the whole Bigfoot craze at least so far as Americans are concerned.  I was too young to hear of it (and make any sense of it) back then, but in the early 1970’s it definitely fell onto my own radar.  As a young’un, I was a nut for anything paranormal, supernatural, or relatedly extraordinary; and I scoured newspapers and magazines for any such mention of saucers, aliens, ghosts, gremlins, portals, and Sasquatches.  To be honest, there wasn’t much out there, but that thankfully changed over the years as books, TV shows, and major motion pictures finally got into the act of exploring ‘High Strangeness’ that had such a big (and growing) audience.  It continues to this day as even podcasters and other content creators have breached those horizons, and I’m always pleased to find something new to add to the various mythologies.
 
And because I’ve always been a huge self-professed fan of ‘found footage filmmaking’ – which this arguable is and isn’t – I went into Shadows Of Bigfoot with high hopes.  I’d seen a few modestly produced documentaries in the last year or two that loosely expanded on some publicized stories dealing with the mysterious cryptid; and – are you kidding me? – what would be better than an independent flick promising to give audiences one more up-close-and-personal look at the world’s reigning hide’n’seek champion?  Written (in part) and directed by Brendan Rudnicki, the Horror/Fantasy starred Tatum Bates, Andrew Thomas, Billy Hirsch, Carl McWilliams, and Sabino Garza in prominent roles.  What emerges come the big showdown isn’t so much ‘found footage’ nor all that frightening but it’s still an interesting theatrical diversion that might be good enough to whet the appetites of monster fans, footage junkies, and Bigfoot aficionados alike.
 
That has to count for something, am I right?
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“In the shadowy confines of Blackwood Forest, filmmakers exploring Bigfoot myths face their worst fears when a vengeful monster emerges, turning their project into a chilling fight for survival.”
​

Where I differ from most fans of ‘found footage’ is one simple position: I expect the rules – all of the rules – to be followed if I’m to accept it as an authentic entry into the unique sub-genre of (typically) Horror filmmaking.
 
As I stated politely above, Shadows Of Bigfoot is and isn’t a great example.  Like so many features, its storytellers make good use of the construct – there’s even an opening title card that clarifies the recovered film was edited behind-the-scenes – but it doesn’t quite ‘stick the landing’ as they’ve chosen to incorporate some rather obvious editing between interviews, character exchanges, rehearsed speeches, and the like.  Heck, the producers even felt it necessary to include background music – in a deliberate attempt to heighten the suspense – and – apologies to all involved – that’s really breaking some of the cornerstones to what ‘found footage’ was conceived to be.
 
Setting aside those grievances can be difficult, especially when it comes to critically evaluating a film, its performance, its varying perspectives, and whatnot.  There could’ve been workarounds the cast and crew explored to maintain the authenticity desired of such experiences, but, instead, they opted to go in other directions … and no fault to them for their choices.  It doesn’t make my job any easier, but I persevere, nonetheless.
 
Structurally, Shadows has everything it needed to deliver a good but somewhat predictable stories.  (These yarns rarely end on happy notes, and this one is no different.)  Grace (played by Tatum Bates) is a likeable presence; with an almost girl-next-door aura, she steps comfortably into the shoes of a YouTube.com-style content creator who spends her time exploring relatable mysteries.  On her quest, she’s joined by Drew (Andrew Thomas), her fiancé and vlog partner who displays a bit more veracity when the question of exposing Bigfoot on camera enters the equation.  Understandably, Grace’s aspirations have limitations, and they don’t include getting trampled much less eaten by the wooly behemoth; but she allows her curiosity to get the best of her, putting her good foot forward (which she’ll regret in more ways than one) because that’s what we do when we’re in a committed relationship.
​

To the cast and crew’s credit, they make good use (mostly) of a nighttime setting for the lion’s share of their search efforts.  The sequences are still surprisingly well lit – especially when compared to what usually serves as murky ‘found footage – so much so that it becomes clear that these explorers are not so much travelling on paths in the deep, dark forest as they are old dirt roads (in most cases) that have been obscured by a bit of overgrown foliage and other natural detritus here and there.  Having spent my fair share in the wilds, these locations don’t much resemble them, but – as I said – I think they’ve gone to respectable lengths to preserve the milieu necessary to make this spooky tale a bit spookier in the right ways.
 
Where things begin to come apart for me – besides the mention of some rather obvious editing done in post-production – is the fact that far too many of Grace and Drew’s little exchanges appear to have been somewhat greatly rehearsed.  For example, the two narrate these small sequences detailing where they’re going and what they’re doing that are meant to be obvious inserts to their forthcoming documentary: however, these set-ups are delivered perfectly – with exact pauses, with exact verbiage, with zero flubs – and it feels very much like these are two actors who’ve properly memorized lines of dialogue and are no delivering them on-camera.  It lacks the rawness that goes in unison with ‘found footage,’ cracking the reality they’ve much better conceived whilst plodding through the woodland.  When you break that narrative wall, there’s really no easy way back, suggesting that this is all artificial; and they break it several times throughout the film.
 
Dissecting the structure a bit more, Shadows also in a few sequences works more like a completed documentary that it does the usual footage-in-progress.  Early on their quest, our team stumbles across a group of campers sitting around their campfire so they do the neighborly thing and stop for a chat.  What transpires are these woven together little snippets of exposition – bits and pieces of story wrapped around a suspicious local murder and the hermit living off the grid – and like those inserted pieces of music it’s undeniably clear that these have been strategically clung together, not authentically inserted as words were said.  Yes, there’s a scene wherein Grace admits to backing up footage – also curiously filmed for no apparent reason except to set the stage for dialogue between her and Drew that would’ve otherwise gone unseen – so I don’t doubt she could’ve made some crucial little edits at that time.  My point here is that it defies the whole foundation of ‘found footage,’ and that cheapens the brew.
 
Now, none of these complaints are meant to dissuade anyone who might otherwise enjoy Shadows.  It’s extremely well-made – especially so when you know it’s an independent production – and it’s reasonably entertaining to those of us who like this sort of entertainment.  Bigfoot certainly makes his presence known – it looks like he might even have friends – and it likely all wraps up exactly the way you want it to knowing that this is Horror, after all, and it doesn’t end happily ever after.  A little more attention to details – along with a tighter script and a few more jump scares – could’ve given this one a greater chance to defy the commercial odds in the same way 1999’s The Blair Witch Project really brought back ‘found footage’ in a big way.  But the truth remains that this Yeti is really no Blair Witch.
​

Shadows Of Bigfoot (2024) was produced by DBS Films Orlando.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been handled by the fine folks at Warner Archive.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I’ve probably seen more ‘found footage’ projects that readers ever knew existed; and this one isn’t nearly a herky and jerky as are so many.  In fact, this one’s overall production quality is very good, ignoring things like the usual out-of-focus and/or grain trickery.  One might argue that – ahem – it looks too good for ‘found footage,’ but that’s an argument for another day and time.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Sigh.  Not a one.  A miss, but – as they say – it is what it is.
 
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
 
Why, why, why?  It’s a question I find me asking myself with practically each and every found footage film that comes down the pike these days, and – respectfully – Shadows Of Bigfoot is no different.  While I’m all in favor of crafting any project for maximum efficiency, I’m still strongly opposed to circumventing the core principles that make ‘found footage’ what they’re supposed to be in the first place.  Those rather obvious gripes aside, Shadows will still likely resonate with those who are more forgiving than I – it had bits and pieces I enjoyed – and it might even achieve a modest cult status with footage enthusiasts in the years ahead.  But for me – the only opinion I ever claim to represent – it was a touch too artificial in ways that showed I was watching a more conventional foray into the realms of the Fantastic; and that was a little offputting.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive and DBS Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Shadows Of Bigfoot (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Charly is looking for Amy, who disappeared during a vacation. He decides to visit the hotel to finally solve the mystery once and for all. However, Charly's investigation is quickly derailed and leads him into a phantasmagorical nightmare.”
 
Without sounding bleak, there are a good many problems with Victim Of Love (2019), many of which aren’t necessarily obvious at first blush.  It’s the kind of flick that the more you think about then the more you will either love or hate it; and that isn’t a bad place to be in and of itself.  In fact, some of mankind’s personal favorite motion pictures are the kind of thing we go back to over and over again to revisit, looking for something deeper, hoping for greater clarity with repeat viewings, or cherishing a particularly moving sequence because it deserves another helping.  Such circumstances might not always make for great cinema, but they definitely fuel some viewers wanting answers to questions they may not have the wisdom to ask yet still know there’s a gaping hole meant to be filled with something … no matter what shape may fit.
 
Similarly, Charly (played by Rudi Køhnke) has found himself in a similar situation: he’s apparently lost what appears to be the love of his life, Amy (Louise Cho), somewhere in Copenhagen, and he’s refusing to go anywhere else until he finds her, thus making himself whole again.  Though he understands what’s missing, he still vacillates between moments of sheer listlessness and depraved debauchery, rarely committed in action to the search he insists to everyone he’s undertaken.  Could it be that, secretly, he doesn’t truly wish to find her?  Or could it be that somewhere in the darkest of dark hearts he knows what’s waiting for him at that intended destination and he wishes to avoid it at all costs?  (If that sounded spoilery, then so be it …)
 
It doesn’t take long for the wild ride that is Victim Of Love to realize Charly is the screen definition of the unreliable narrator for a lot of reasons.  First, we see very little time spent on his professed investigation.  Second, we see him caught up in some drug and booze-filled frenzies exhibiting behaviors that suggest he’s far from the ‘concerned citizen’ trying to locate a presumed loved one.  Third, we witness him over and over and over again partaking of some very random acts of unpredictable violence, an oft repeated state of mind which only hints that he likely knows more than he’s let on about Amy’s disappearance.  As one might expect, it’s really only a matter of time before his psyche cracks, giving us finally the rest of the story that was never adding up in the first place.  It’s grim, of course, but his behaviors can lead to no other finale.
​

So Victim is more of a psychological journey than it is a physical one.  Of course, Charly travels to a few places in the city, but it’s more with the intent of finding a good time than anything patently useful to his stated mission.  As such, he crosses paths with a few people; and everywhere he turns somehow manages to haunt him with another vision of Amy, often in a dreamlike state, often covered in blood.  It isn’t as if the audience at any point in this ninety-minute runtime is given any pressing reason to believe that this cloud has a silver lining hidden somewhere in a distant corner of the sky.  It’s always dark.  It’s always foreboding.  It’s always treading into territory we’ve seen trafficked by like-minded storytellers before.  And we already know that it never ends well.
 
Because I’d seen so much of it before elsewhere, I thought the film grew increasingly difficult to celebrate even those things I usually do in psychological dramas of this variety.
 
While Køhnke’s work as the broken soul teetering between sanity and something vastly worse is occasionally impressive, director Jesper Isaksen never quite fleshes out anything else (other than some fabulous visuals) to richen the pot or for his actor to do.  Everything in here revolves around his fragile and flawed personality, so nothing can be taken at face value.  If you know that your narrator isn’t to be trusted, then there’s functionally no mystery as to what happened except for those particulars being withheld by screenwriting convention (also Isaksen’s job here).  While some might see the actor’s work as demonstrating a great technical range, I didn’t because Køhnke spends moments either in sullen depression or barely reserved explosive intensity, leaving little to no room for anything further even in the quietest of moments.  He was always in one mental state or the other, so where’s the range in that?
 
Charly is grounded at times with a burgeoning less-than-wholesome relationship with the free-spirited Felicija (Siff Andersson), a hotel clerk smitten as much by wanderlust as she is by altered states of consciousness.  Though she shares her lover’s appetite for illicit substances, she still insists there’s a better life out there (over the rainbow?) in the big city; and she’s willing to pick up and chase that dream in a moment’s notice.  In ways, Felicija is Charly – maybe an earlier version of him – but in a vastly more attractive and cogent package.  I kept wondering if she, too, held some dark secret, but thankfully Isaksen used her more as a token demonstration of innocence lost or found, strongly implying she might become a victim of circumstance before this trip was over.  (On that point, I’ll let you make up your own mind.)
 
Where I start to diverge from the popular critical consensus here is that where others found Victim’s endless parade of hallucinatory visuals supportive of the narrative, I thought they were more intrusive and a bit too obvious.  Yes, they’re very, very, very good – there’s some incredible use of colors and angles and setting in here that really push the cinematography to another level, evoking a dour if not spectrally oppressive mood with incredible ease – but because they’re so pervasive they lose a bit of their utility in the process.  It starts to all feel forced upon me, consciously willing me to see things only one way, and that way is the most evident.  Constantly reminding the audience that you’re trapped within a surreal nightmare at every turn eventually wears the premise thin if not through completely: where other directors might’ve used a bit of restraint, Isaksen seems beholden to layering them atop one another incessantly almost as if that’s all there is … and nothing in life could be further from the truth.  Pulling back a bit – allowing normalcy to return if even for small moments – might’ve given the onscreen talent and their respective work more time to resonate by itself.  Instead, this one was full speed ahead for too much of the time.
​

Lastly, Victim actually breaks the fourth wall with the audience on two occasions that I recall (there may’ve been a third, depending upon one’s perception of what happened, but I’ll ignore it for expediency’s sake).  I’m always cautious about spoilers because I do like to preserve some of the delivered screen magic for those who might check something out based on my reviews, so this one is a bit difficult to discuss at length.  Suffice it to say, I – as a viewer – am spoken to directly; and I’m just not a fan of such narrative trickery, especially if it serves no authentic purpose.  In these two sequences, the film grinds to a halt to deliver a kinda/sorta aside that I believe Isaksen may’ve believed was in keeping of his character; but it didn’t work for me at all.  What was learned was insignificant – marginal speechifying, at best – and their inclusion cheapened a good story that didn’t need the distraction all for the sake of doing something artsy.
 
Nonetheless, I’d be remiss in my duties of cataloguing All Things Genre if I failed to point out that Victim is a highly celebrated film in circles that matter to filmdom.  It’s largely been a darling on the film festival circuit; and I’ve written before how some of those features truly do have a life of their own amongst those who attend them.  (Hint: regular folks like you and me usually don’t embrace these various entries as feverishly or as fervently.)  Allow me to politely say that this one feels like it was made for such academics who put a great deal of thought, debate, and mental posturing into such wares; and there’s nothing wrong with that.  Where I differ with them typically is I see some of the finished sequences as being overdone, ultimately getting in the way of my appreciating the flick as much as they do.
 
Like minds don’t always agree, nor must they.  I support a world that’s always to each his own.
 
Victim Of Love (2019) was produced by Bleed For This Picture and Mamba.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert … just wow.  The film honestly looks fabulous from start-to-finish with colors either popping or simmering depending upon their usage; and the minimal use of Special and/or practical effects is very, very, very solid.  Several of the sequences boast some cinematography that’ll give ‘those who like it’ something to mull over, so be prepared if that’s your thing to put in a bit of extra effort.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Sigh.  Sadly, there’s nothing more than some associated music videos along with a handful of previews for other films … a huge miss, if you ask this cineaste.
 
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
 
Without a doubt, there’s an audience for Victim Of Love (2019), but it might not exactly be those for which it was intended.  While its visuals are arguably stylish enough to stand alongside any that have appeared in the realm of Psychological Horror and/or art-house Slasher entries, the story – i.e. its narrative substance – remains exceedingly light and downright predictable at every step along the way.  Performances are interesting, and yet if you already know where it’s heading then they, too, lack the polish to be anything revelatory.  Don’t misunderstand: the two leads provide great dramatic counterparts.  Still, nothing can replace the fact that it’s easy to see where it’s all heading, and the fact alone robs them truly breaking the mold for what’s possible in this unique sub-genre of storytelling.
 
In the interest of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Victim Of Love (2019) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

Good afternoon, gentle readers, and I come to you today with a heavy heart as I just read on the World Wide Web of the passing of Ms. Teri Garr.

Oh, my goodness, this lovely lady made me laugh so many times.  And, no, this doesn't mean that every role she appeared in was for comic intent.  Rather, she made me laugh so, so, so many times with her work aboard Mel Brooks' incredible comedy, Young Frankenstein (1974).  While it isn't the funniest of films that I've seen, it's definitely one of those I'd rank in my Top Comedies ever; and it saddens me to know that such a bright light has gone out in the universe.

​It's true that Star Trek enthusiasts -- of which I definitely consider myself -- knew that she nearly -- very nearly -- had her very own starring opportunity within Trek: she appeared in the franchise's episode, "Assignment: Earth," which creator Gene Roddenberry intended to be a pilot for a spin-off which would potentially explore alternate timelines within the universe where no one had gone before.  Alas, it was never meant to be, and the adventure still serves as a popular one-off within the original timeline, one that gets celebrated every now and then by fandom.

​Were there other forays into the realms of the Fantastic?

There sure were, and you can add to the ranks appearances aboard such other projects as Batman, The Girl With Something Extra, Oh God! (1977), Close Encounters Of The Third Kind (1977), Once Upon A Brothers Grimm (1977), Witches' Brew (1980), Faerie Tale Theatre, Tales From The Crypt, Mom And Dad Save The World (1992), Aliens For Breakfast (1995), Michael (1996), Sabrina The Teenage Witch, Batman Beyond: The Movie (1999), Batman Beyond, and Batman Beyond: Return Of The Joker (2000).

Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Teri Garr.

May she rest in peace.

-- EZ
​

​There have been an astonishing number of motion pictures exploring the various ways in which our world – from our efforts or not – will come to its collective doom.
 
Some might say that we have The Bible to thank for that, what with that seminal book having been written a few millennia ago and threatening each and every one of us with an Apocalypse of Biblical proportions.  Naturally, the entertainment industry had to cash in on the phenomenon; and a quick Google.com search shows that over a century ago 1916’s Verdens Undergang – aka The End Of The World, aka The Flaming Sword – first gave audiences a look at ‘The End’ compliments to a comet passing much too closely to our world for good measure.  Of course, there have been far too many to mention since that time; and the only real wrinkle in the cosmic fabric has been that the causes leading up to our expiration has expanded to include other natural disasters, unforeseen religious events, technology failures, man-made diseases, monster attacks, alien invasions, and even – ahem – global climate change.  Mind you: as we get later into this century and into the next, creative minds will likely come up with a few more, so it pays to always stay buckled up.
 
Still, one needn’t be a Mad Max to realize that because this subset of Science Fiction films continues to be popular there will be more of them; and that’s what’s on the agenda for today’s discourse.  2024’s Cora – a sometimes SciFi, sometimes military thriller hybrid – springs from the fertile imaginations of screenwriters Sonny Laguna, David Liljeblad, and Tommy Wiklund with Laguna and Wiklund also pairing up for director responsibilities.  This rather dour tour of duty stars Sanne Broström, Christian Bitar, Thomas Lennon, Andreas Rylander, and Felicia Rylander in significant roles; and before all is said and done audiences might find themselves scratching their heads over whether this particular ride through our last days was truly one worth taking.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
​

From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“After a deadly mist has wiped out most of humanity, a mysterious organisation is trying to save what's left of humankind.”
 
There’s an ambiguity to Cora that I need to address right away.
 
You see, for all intents and purposes our world has gone to crap.  Now, in fairness, we don’t see all of it – what story there is in here revolves around only a handful of players across a very limited landscape – so perhaps there’s more out there that survived.  While I wouldn’t be even cautiously optimistic about those chances, it’s still safe to conclude that Laguna, Wiklund, and Liljeblad’s story never makes it perfectly clear just how far and wide the devastation of our world from this phantom mist which now inhabits our atmosphere stretches, nor convincingly where it came from.  Because those blanks are never filled in, I’m accepting this yarn as is … and – ahem – it has a good degree of blemishes to overcome along the way.  There’s a bit of radio chitchat in the opening segments, but it’s so poorly modulated I couldn’t make head nor tails of it.
 
Further muddying the waters (as they say), we’re introduced to Cora (played by Felicia Rylander) without a great degree of context.  She’s apparently one of the survivors living out her days in some experimental bunker – one that’s been resupplied by aerial drones for years – and as part of her duties she not only maintains peak physical fitness but keeps measuring the various gauges and instruments spread around her non-descript subterranean hideout and providing updates via some light computer technology.  She could be a scientist.  She could be a soldier.  She is armed, and she’s forever frustrated that the machinery seems to be respectably fragile; and yet that’s all we really know about her and her circumstances.  That, my friends, is pretty slim pickings.
 
Eventually, we see her go out and about in what’s left of the world outside, and it’s exceptionally grim.  Largely, we see devastation – factories collapsed, cars totaled in open fields, houses decrepit, etc. – and it becomes clear something catastrophic has led to the fall of man.  While there are some suggestions linking it all to this pervasive fog, the viewers are still left to fill in the holes, not that such information matters all that much.  Basically, the creators have concocted this world in which Cora is our only connection; and on that front we take these narrative baby steps.
​

Thankfully, it isn’t all that long before Cora decides – with the failure of her bunker’s network – to venture to the next science station on foot.  Once there, she finds that her counterpart – a male – has committed suicide, leaving behind a note that he’s uncovered some secret (never divulged) implying that the company behind all of the stations – Upper Reach (???) – has lied to them all.  It’s this little nugget of discovery that inevitably puts Cora on her own search to uncover how far this conspiracy leads though the audience is never quite in sufficiently on their malfeasance for all of it to matter all that much.
 
Instead, this breakthrough really only serves as yet one more of Science Fiction’s biggest tropes in an already trope-filled existence that is Cora’s 100-minute runtime.  Naturally, the conspiracy has layers, Cora herself is involved in it, mankind’s survivors don’t seem to give a damn about anything, Those left behind are largely thrown back to the Stone Age – albeit ammunition seems to always be in ample supply – and the sum total of what adventure there is in here is little more than the usual ‘battle for survival’ against directionless adversaries who’ll stop at nothing to kill or be killed in the race to the big finish.  Since this has been done before, I’m not certain why anyone involved felt it needed to be done again; but kudos to all involved for giving it an admirable go.  The Apocalypse ain’t easy to produce, and it’s even harder to do with little to no budget.  I suspect not much was spent on this act of desperation, and it shows.
 
As a huge fan of Science Fiction in general, I still managed to find little snippets of joy exploring this dark aftermath.
 
Rylander is reasonably good here and there.  There is a bit of a secret to her background but come the big finish I’m not all that sure that her ‘difference’ even really mattered.  A few scenes are hampered by poor sound work.  There’s the added requirement that the vast majority of dialogue take place via radios (since the air is contaminated) so those sequences are robbed of any emotional resonance as faces are obscured by masks and the audio was obviously augmented in post-production.  Infrequently, there is some interesting cinematography brought in to punctuate the sheer hopelessness of what resembles extinction; but far too much of the feature gets weighed down by predictable camera angles and bland shot set-ups.  A bit of variety might’ve spiced up the cinematic palate: it’s an Apocalypse, true, but it needn’t always look like one, you know.  A tighter script – one that perhaps more strongly spelled out Cora’s desire other than having her computer turned back on – might’ve also made this one even modestly more special than it is; but it’s hard to tell given the lack of a central antagonist except for the usual nihilists who always seem to make it into the casts of these pictures.

Complicating matters a bit more is the fact that the script never quite explains how Cora was able to survive for as long as she did.  At one point, we learn that the company completely ended its business of trying to salvage our world from this blight and went off in a completely different direction.  Well, how was it the supply train of aerial drones was never deactivated?  With the remaining resources dwindling in the process, are we supposed to blindly accept that no one would've diverted those goods and services elsewhere?  Are we to accept that scavengers wouldn't have looted these warehouses for any single morsel of food, water, or clothing?  There's a huge gaping hole left with the absence of any explanation, and I can't help but wonder if something was left on the cutting room floor that might've answered that query and made perfect sense.
​

Besides, as the film’s last scene suggests, what’s it all for anyway?  If that’s truly the final expression to life as we know it, then why do we even film the story except to remind us of our shared futility?  Is there a way for us to transcend our best and worst impulses, or are we forever doomed to galactic obscurity?  Sometimes, it’s a question too big to ask; and while there is the smallest of hints (one might argue) that survival remains possible I would’ve hoped the writers and directors might’ve spelled it out succinctly so that we might find a bit of joy in such a small revelation.
 
Otherwise … what’s the point … especially to art?
 
Cora (2024) was produced by Stockholm Syndrome Film.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Black Mandala and Warner Archive.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be good in most cases and above average in a few.  There’s a great deal of the picture that’s a bit hard to see by design, and I can’t help but wonder if dialing back all of the fog and dimness might’ve actually helped this one convey a stronger sense of purpose.  Effects sequences are good at best, though a few could’ve used a bit more polish.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Erm … this is an odd duck of a release in that I couldn’t get the disc menu to work at all; and – during the closing credits sequence, there were some obvious deleted scenes playing out.  Apparently, there’s no way to access them directly so I’ve no way to ascertain whether anything was gained or lost by the exclusion.  A bit of a curious choice, if you ask me.
 
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
 
This is the type of film I really, really, really wanted to like, but I ended up feeling no attachment to it whatsoever.  My chief problem with Cora (2024) is that – as a story – it goes nowhere, essentially starting and ending in (literally) exactly the same place.  Oh, one might argue that there’s a bit of discovery along the way, and, sure, some of that might be interesting; but there’s nothing entirely substantial that’s learned at any single stop along the way.  Why, it’s almost like nothing matters in the end.  Sadly, Cora is provided no journey to speak of – she bobs and weaves with rather obvious screenwriting invention – and there’s no central message to any of it … well, other than to say a kind of existential oblivion awaits all of us if we’re to continue marching forwarded untethered to the liabilities we create merely as a consequence of living.  Doom and gloom pervades once again, and that’s kinda sad if for no other reason than so much of the Apocalypse photographed well.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Cora (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

Once more for the record, folks: I enjoy found footage format films.
 
I know, I know, I know.  Many of you don’t.  I know, I know, I know.  I’ve heard all of the reasons.  Yes, I agree that they can be difficult to watch, what with the constant herky jerky camera movements.  Yes, I accept that the stories are sometimes a bit thin and lacking in greater structure owed to the nature of relying only on what’s seen and said.  And, yes, I’ll even concede that they do most often tend to have much less emphasis on production values than conventional flicks as they can be shot just about anywhere, anytime, whenever the spirit moves the cast and crew.  Still, I’ll always insist that when they’re done right, they can retain a freshness that other projects have to manufacture; it won’t happen every time, but – when it does – it’s about as close to authentic movie magic as is still possible in the age of practical effects.  For me, that still says something, so I’m sticking to my guns.
 
Of course, there are downsides to the theatrical trend that go beyond the logical arguments; and perhaps the single greatest is that far too many storytellers think they’re creating a found footage film when – in reality – nothing could be further from the truth.  Instead, what these mythmakers produce is something that only casually bears all the hallmarks of found footage but is clearly edited together from multiple camera angles, very obvious scene breaks, and (gasp!) contains title cards indicating something of value for the viewers.  Sorry, readers, but when these things show up in what’s alleged to be found footage then the fourth wall is effectively broken, and the result should not be considered amongst the better entries that stick to the rules.  (I didn’t make the rules, but I’m one who maintains nothing but respect for adhering to them.)
 
The end result of such confusion between the proper narrative structure and what others have thrown into the mix doesn’t serve the trend in any positive fashion; and that’s my initial critical take on 2014’s The Taking Of Deborah Logan.  This Horror/Drama from Adam Robitel (who directed) and Gavin Heffernan is one of those productions that’s been long promoted to me from friends and online acquaintances – the ones who share that fondness for found footage.  While they’re certainly correct in suggesting that this Taking has a bit of what’s suggested to be found footage in there, I’d push back and say that it has equally as much other stuff (don’t worry, I’ll get to that later) that belies an assembly sufficient enough to assign it to the sub-genre.  But don’t let me suggest that’s a weakness to the story because (again) that’s far from it.  Here, I think it’s a strength, and it’s a shame not everyone involved saw what I saw and maybe went in for a bit more.
 
(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 prefer a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
​

From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“What starts as a poignant medical documentary about Deborah Logan's descent into Alzheimer's disease and her daughter's struggles as caregiver degenerates into a maddening portrayal of dementia at its most frightening, as hair-raising events begin to plague the family and crew and an unspeakable malevolence threatens to tear the very fabric of sanity from them all.”
 
All stories begin with the crux of a good idea, and The Taking Of Deborah Logan is no different.
 
Some may disagree, but I believe that what screenwriters Robitel and Heffernan intended to be the core to their spectral yarn was the huge misdirection: an elderly woman (played deftly Jill Larson) showing the classic early symptoms of an aggressive Alzheimer’s bout is actually struggling with an equally destructive case of demonic possession.  By tugging at the heartstrings of the audience with something conventional, the writers have delivered a bit of screen magic because they’ve taken a few of the necessary steps to grow our fondness for their fragile lead … only then to pull the rug out from under all of us with footage of Ms. Logan trying to literally ingest the soul of a young victim in the final act.
 
Clever.  Very clever.
 
However, there’s a bit more enchantment for those of us who prefer tales unconventionally: while initially setting the stage for The Taking to resemble a loose found footage framework, the makers take steps further by assembling sections of what would’ve been the completed project that budding documentarian Mia Medina (Michelle Ang) set out to do in bringing all of these characters together in the first place.  Where the seams start to fray just a bit in the second half is when director Robitel necessarily resorts to incorporating even more points-of-view (i.e. hospital security cameras, hallway monitors, etc.) in order to continuing both expanding the central plotline as well as ramping up the jump scares.  Without a doubt, it should be crystal clear to anyone in the audience at that point that we’ve left the confines of the found footage category far behind, and we’ve stepped into the land of pure narrative make believe where rules don’t really matter.
 
Initially, I’ll admit that bugged me because – as a viewer and a critic – I take great pains to remain focused on the perspective.  I’ve also argued that it matters to me in knowing who is telling the story.  With found footage, it’s left almost entirely in the hands of the characters, which is why I do enjoy them to a large extent.  With all other assemblies, the results are functionally in the hands of the director.  When formats are mixed in such a way, I think the finished product wind up feeling increasingly artificial – those magicians are working their sleight of hand making sure you’re watching precisely where they want you to instead of what’s truly happening elsewhere – and the whole affair gets a bit cheapened in the process.
 
Nevertheless …
​

​I ended up really enjoying The Taking’s overall vibe. 

​While some might find this insulting, the whole story felt like a quilt with some squares being thrown into the mix because they looked better even though they might’ve clashed a bit with colorful others.  By rather efficiently trimming a bit from the purported documentary and spinning a few smaller sequences within the traditional found footage set-up and even pouring it a bit of conventional filmmaking (there’s a fabulous mystery to its center), The Taking managed to chart out an interesting and compelling personal story drawn up against the fabric of an effective possession tale.  I didn’t expect them to go together so well; and, yet, here we are.  The foundation held.  It kept my interest.  It gave me a few chills.  And it even posited a few alternatives worth thinking about.  That’s a winning concoction, and I think all involved should be applauded.
 
Taking it a step further, I’d even suggest that, perhaps, everyone in the cast and crew maybe even got it wrong in the inception process.
 
There was enough dramatic substance along with the potential for a few expanded relationships only hinted at in here that this dark tale could’ve gone on much, much longer.  While I’ll concede that – as a Horror feature – it easily fits the bill of reaching that damn exquisite 90-minute running time, The Taking still ended and left me wanting to spend more time with its characters and circumstances.  Circumstantially, it reminded me of HBO’s relatively recent adaptation of the Stephen King novel, The Outsider (2020), which brilliantly took ten episodes to explore how a supernatural presence weaved its way into a small town and beset regular folk with some extraordinary events, shattering the foundation of how they saw themselves and the world around them.  The Taking had that same vibe, and it raised questions about a few of its players in such a way that more could’ve followed.
 
Who knows? 

​Maybe in a few years, someone – maybe even the original creators here – will dust this off and realize the potential.  They’ll pick it up and sell the premise to Netflix, Amazon, or some other streaming service.  They’ll bring an all-new cast together and rediscover the magic.  In the meantime, this 90-minute version never hurt anyone.
​

The Taking Of Deborah Logan (2014) was produced by Bad Hat Harry Productions, Jeff Rice Films, Casadelic Pictures, and Guerin-Adler-Scott Pictures.  Based on a quick Google.com search, the production is available for streaming purchase via a variety of platforms.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be exceptional from start-to-finish … and, yes, the found footage stuff can be a little taxing here and there.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  As I viewed this one streaming online, there were no special features under consideration.
 
Strongly Recommended.
 
To be frank, I think that those folks who’ve been clamoring to have The Taking Of Deborah Logan (2014) embraced as a found footage gem have actually done a bit of disservice to the completed effort: like so many imitators, The Taking only uses that structure in a few spots – mainly for producing the requisite atmosphere along with some serviceable jump scares – and otherwise clings to more orthodox narratives.  Still, because the film is like a stew that throws a little bit of everything in there, it manages to achieve a wonderful sense of foreboding lesser flicks only hope to reach.  The personal and the paranormal blend in ways that make Deborah Logan no different than someone in your family or social circle … and that prospect alone puts you well on the road to being freaked out when dark forces come a’callin’.    
 
In the interest of fairness, I’m beholden to no one for this review of The Taking Of Deborah Logan (2014) as I viewed it via my very own subscription to Amazon Prime Video.

-- EZ
​

Apologies, folks, that there hasn't been a MainPage post in a few days, but this is my wifey's birthday weekend, so I've been away from the house quite a bit the past few days.  Don't fret, however, as the normal flow of things should return this Tuesday.

I did want to pop online today as I noticed on the World Wide Web yesterday that word had hit regarding the passing of Star Trek veteran producer Jeri Taylor.  Hers might not have been a huge name in certain circles, but I think most die-hard Trek enthusiasts knew of the lady's incredible contribution to the franchise.  If memory serves, she joined where no one had gone before not too long into the Next Generation's run, and then she held on through the cruise through the Delta Quadrant that was Voyager.  While I was never a huge fan of that particular iteration, I still believe her name was attached to a lot of its better outings.

In fact, I distinctly remember reading and being particularly smitten with her Pathways novel: it was a Voyager adventure that very credibly flashed out the various backgrounds of the crew (in print) and showed how their respective experiences truly added to 'saving the day' in that book.  The overall state of Trek fiction being a dire straits (for so much as I care), I'd still give that tome a thumbs up for anyone who wants to read something worthwhile with Janeway and company as it was top notch storytelling.

​Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Jeri Taylor.

May she rest in peace.

​-- EZ

According to a quick search on Google.com, an article on Wikipedia.org indicates that the first work to breach the whole topic of an alien invasion of Earth was author Robert Potter’s 1892 story “The Germ Growers.”  In it, Potter creates the whole ‘they’ve taken over our bodies’ premise by having these dastardly invaders take the shape of ordinary human beings and then set about the work of crafting a deadly virus capable of wiping out the rest of us.
 
How insidious, am I right?
 
Well, Wikipedia.org further states that Growers was apparently no publishing sensation; and, thus, Potter’s ideas have largely vanished into the trash heap of literary history.  And yet … a short six years later, this prolific creator of Science Fiction yarns going under the name of H.G. Wells delivered his groundbreaking The War Of The Worlds to the consumer marketplace.  A sensation with audiences eventually around the world, this War earned the spot as being recognized as the first authentic alien invasion story.  One needn’t be a rocket scientist to know that Wells’ tale continues to resonate with storytellers and viewers alike as it even today continues to serve as a source document for various remakes, retreads, and spinoffs.
 
Theatrically, history remains a bit murky: this isn’t to say that aliens haven’t made appearances in films but rather arguments could be made that their earliest visits weren’t exactly the business of global domination.  Largely, 1951’s The Thing From Another World gets cited by many as being one of the earliest as exploiting the invasion trope, but I – as SciFiHistory.Net’s resident historiographer – have always pushed back on that statement.  The Thing – as played by screen legend James Arness – wasn’t here essentially to invade; in fact, he was discovered by researchers, thawed out of ice, and then went about the business of terrorizing this small band of Arctic explorers.  So, at this point, I’m still apt to give 1953’s The War Of The Worlds adaptation of the Wells’ book the lion’s share of the credit for inspiring the countless tales of Earth’s impending jeopardy we’ve been subjected to in the decades that followed.
 
Thankfully, Hollywood and beyond have realized that there’s big business in such attacks; and who can blame those merry mythmakers for capitalizing on what sells?  The latest in a line of intergalactic threats has taken shape under the name Alien Country (2024).  Spawned from the fertile imaginations of Renny Grames (who also stars) and Boston McConnaughey (who also directs), the motion picture stars Corbin Allred, Rachele Brooke Smith, K.C. Clyde, Renny Grames, and Jasen Wade in prominent roles.  Though the flick may not bring anything new to the trend, it’s made with a lean efficiency, boasting modest special effects work and a crackingly funny script that just might help it build a solid foundation in going where other projects have gone before.
 
In fact, this one might have ‘the right stuff’ to rise to cult status if the years ahead are kind.
​

(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 on down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Reeling from the news of an unexpected pregnancy, Jimmy and Everly unknowingly release an alien invasion in their small town and learn to work together in order to save each other, their town and evidently, the entire galaxy.”
 
Folks, I’ve written before about how the explosion of content – now that every man, woman, and child has a smartphone and APPs at their fingertips to produce their own – has effected society at large; and I think it’s time for an expansion on that idea.
 
Back in the days when stories were shot exclusively on film, there were reasonable financial hurdles which had to be overcome in order to deliver a completed opus to the marketplace.  Clearly, not every screenwriter had direct access to the capital to put his or her dream in motion, and – it should go without saying – not every producer or production company had the funds to turn every completed script into the next big thing.  Sacrifices had to be made.  Corners had to be cut.  There was an incredible amount of give-and-take.  The end results varied widely, and this process had the effect of creating A-Pictures and B-pictures within the industry at large.  A-Pictures got the red-carpet treatment; and B-Pictures were afforded the scraps.  Everyone made do as best as they could – audiences included – and this business format stayed the norm for filmdom’s first generation or two or (maybe) three, depending upon one’s historical perspective.
 
The introduction of digital filmmaking was the straw that inevitably broke that mold, as this new technology truly widened what was achievable behind-the-scenes.  No longer were creators dependent upon those moneymen; and – so long as they were able to outfit themselves with everything needed – independent film production entered a new era.  While nearly a century ago a grand wizard like Orson Welles had to negotiate for total creative autonomy over his Citizen Kane (1941), this new breed of filmmakers could simply thumb their noses at the establishment and make their very own catalog of entertainment.  Mind you: they were still to a degree beholden to theatre chains and/or distribution outlets to get such fare into the cineplexes, but that would change, too, in the days ahead when platforms like YouTube.com, Rumble.com, Twitch.com, Dailymotion.com, and more broke down all barriers between makers and the general public.
 
The reason I bring this up today is that in preparing to offer my two cents on Alien Country I realize that we might be on the cusp of reconceptualizing A- and B-Pictures yet again.
​

Here’s the straight skinny I’m dancing around: Alien Country is, clearly, an independent production.  It has all the markings of something made well outside the studio system – a huge plus, so far as this humble critic is concerned – which allows the cast and crew to produce a magic act that’s entirely all of their own.  Still, because the completed film has enough of the substantive pomp and circumstance available to filmmakers in the modern era, Country has just about everything it needs to compete shoulder-to-shoulder with a big budget production.  Do you see my quandary?  It both is and isn’t an A-Picture.  It both is and isn’t a B-Picture.  While that may not mean much to the readership at large, I think it speaks volumes about what’s possible for storytellers in the sphere of ideas today … and that fact alone causes me to encourage those of you who want to get into the business to check this out.
 
Jimmy (played by Clyde) and Everly (Renny Grames) are the Great American (small town) Couple.  Their relationship is at an impasse because they’ve not quite passed over that threshold into being an authentic pair because – let’s face facts – no one wants to settle down and become their parents.  In fact, Jimmy’s father James (Jasen Wade) quite literally vanished from the face of the Earth in his youth, shackling him psychologically with a load of doubt as to whether or not he’s up to the task of maturing into adulthood.  They both still have their dreams, and yet can those dreams be reconciled with this new chapter in the book of love?
 
Oh, yeah, and they’ve gone and got Everly pregnant.
 
While the little town of Blue River might not be bigger than a small dot on the map, it has a reputation, one replete with UFO sightings, abductions, and other supernatural shenanigans.  Why, even the old uranium mine seems to gone dried up, adding another layer to the local mysteries.  Long-time residents have long believed that there’s more to the story, but could all of these elements finally come together, answering that immortal question about whether or not we’re alone in the universe while showing our lovely couple at the same time that they’re destined to be together?
 
That’s the narrative stuff that propels Alien Country.  It’s a strange amalgamation of small-town life and big city dreams where nothing is quite what it seems despite the fact that it’s been right in front of your eyes your whole life.  Grames and McConnaughey’s script is smart – perhaps too smart for a B-Picture but assembled not quite good enough to make it an A – and manages to great fantastic mileage out of one of the better genre ensemble casts I’ve seen in a short while.  Clyde’s comic cynicism continues to fuel one great scene after another with Allred, Smith, Grames, and Trey Warner (as ‘Officer Kirk’) proving that they’re not only capable of holding ground opposite but also willing to chew their own scenery right alongside.  This is likely one of those moments of serendipity – when cast and crew were clearly all ‘in on it’ or ‘on the same page’ and I think the finished product shows.  With the same filmic DNA that’s been afforded other genre entries like Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure (1989), Tremors (1990), Fargo (1996), and Grabbers (2012), Alien Country succeeds precisely because it knows and embraces that Biblical adage about the meek inheriting the Earth and it isn’t afraid from celebrating knuckleheads who, quite simply, want to save the planet … and that’s all.
​

My biggest problem with it is that McConnaughey – a first-time director – kinda/sorta robs the picture of some small(ish) moments.  As I said, this is an ensemble piece – there are very few moments spent either in isolation or with a single character – and the framing sensibilities sometimes incorporate more tilts, pans, wipes, etc. than were necessary.  When you have three or four people in a scene, there isn’t a need to constantly move the camera so that the focus is on the person speaking at the time – a popular YouTube.com phenomenon that drives me crazy.  Instead, pull back a little.  Show all characters in the frame.  Let them breathe and speak and react in the same frame.  It looks better – definitely less frenetic – and it changes the visual flow in such a way that audiences listen more instead of watch.  Others might disagree, but the constant push for movement, movement, and more movement of the possible angles becomes a distraction instead of organically pulling me in, and that’s a miss.
 
The other issue?
 
Well, for some reason, everyone thought piling on was the way to go with the ending.  If it wasn’t enough for Blue River to miraculously become the center of the universe for an impending alien invasion, then now – in a brief filmed coda – it’s also the epicenter for a developing zombie invasion.  Erm … folks?  You weren’t producing a pure parody here.  This was a family-friendly comedy that resonated just fine on its own merits not unlike 1985’s Back To The Future.  Imagine if when that film ended instead of going forward in time Doc and Marty suddenly found that they could enter another dimension?  While some might find that nifty, I’ll just ask, “What’s the point?”  Why derail a tonally perfect wrap-up by suggesting none of it was serious?
 
Know when to end and then leave the stage.  There’s seriously no greater wisdom in all of entertainment.
 
Now … no.  Country is no The War Of The Worlds (1953).  It doesn’t have the fantastic popcorn spectacle of Independence Day (1996).  It doesn’t have the politically subversive core of Invasion Of The Body Snatchers (1956), nor does it have the big budget sizzle of Battle Los Angeles (2011).  It’s finale felt a bit rushed – all of a sudden, the townies were no longer concerned about the ill effects of flat-out killing these alien creatures when they spent the bulk of the movie trying to avoid it (for reason the plot explains) – and I’m not sure they stuck the landing as well as they could’ve.  It could’ve gone to a bit greater length to explain its wormholes, its creatures, and the stakes at play in a few spots.  But it has as much heart to stand alongside those bigger films; and – for that – I’m thankful to have seen it.

Folks, I don't say that about many pictures.  That's a rarity.
​

Alien Country (2024) was produced by Story Mode I.  Though this may be inaccurate, Reelgood.com indicates that the film is presently available for streaming only on Amazon Prime Video.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds pretty exceptional from start-to-finish: there are some lower quality special effects work in a few spots regarding the creatures, but it’s all still accomplished in the proper mise en scéne of the flick so they’re acceptable.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Alas, I viewed this one entirely via streaming, so there were no special features under consideration.
 
Recommended.
 
Though some might disagree, I thought Alien Country (2024) was about as much fun as was possible in the modern era of independent filmmaking.  While its effects work varies between good and acceptable, the story retains a fabulous comic tone all along the way that makes an inferior scene or two entirely palatable, much in the same way 1984’s Ghostbusters kinda/sorta gets mocked for its occasional cartoonish sensibilities.  Perhaps the greatest compliment I can extend to all involved is the following: if you were able to accomplish something so winning as this on a modest budget, then I’d personally love to see what you can do if some major investors were willing to throw a few buckets of money your way.  Great things come in small packages, and I think everyone is destined for more.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Story Mode I provided me with complimentary streaming access to Alien Country (2024) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

(Editor’s Note: In case the preamble to this review sounds familiar, that’s because I’ve copied & posted it from a previous review regarding this forthcoming DVD release.  As this is the second film in the set, the review below will be original and correspond to my thoughts on that feature.)
 
As much as I love Horror stories from around the world, I’ll still admit that I’ve always had a bit of a struggle with traditional Japanese ghost stories.
 
It isn’t that I dislike them because that’s about as far from the truth as one could get.  Still, I’ve had issues with a good many of the ones I’ve seen over the years for many reasons.  In some cases, ghosts steal too much of the focus, so I get to learn very little about the fleshy folks who encounter them.  At other times, the background and/or mythology of just how these ghosts came to be is a bit elusive if not downright vague; and, thus, I struggle to understand the significance of this particular story or that particular spectral ability.  In their defense, I’ve always remarked that they’re usually very stylish, and their producers go to great lengths to depict this bridging between two realities in wonderfully visual ways: but if I can’t relate to the characters in any meaningful way then it devolves into a great deal of pomp and circumstance that, frankly, I could do without.  They’re good … but they’re not good enough.
 
This being October – that famed time of year with ghosts and goblins and ghouls take center stage – I do have a good number of releases on tap for my and your enjoyment; and I’m particularly thrilled that the fine folks at Radiance Films have provided me with a complimentary screening copy of their forthcoming Daiei Gothic: Japanese Ghost Stories.  This set – which is advertised to release to the consumer marketplace on October 29, 2024 – showcases three films that I’ve heard of but never had the pleasure to watch much less review; and that’s about to change.  I’ll be spending some time with it in the days ahead, so I encourage readers to watch this space for what promises to be some wonderfully spooky content to help set the mood for the forthcoming Halloween silly season.
 
Last up: 1968’s The Bride From Hades – aka The Bride From Hell or Peony Lantern – was directed by Satsuo Yamamoto from a script attributed to Enchô San'yûtei and Yoshikata Yoda.  The Horror/Fantasy starred Kôjirô Hongô, Miyoko Akaza, Mayumi Ogawa, Kô Nishimura, and Takashi Shimura in prominent roles.  As for the story, it’s another one of those tragic love stories that J-Horror loves to explore, this time going for a bit more narrative scope as the folks of a small town actively try to subvert the powers of doomed love to save a noble man who has left fame and fortune in order to live a better life amongst the little folk.  And – for the record – it’s really quite good.
​

(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“On the night of the summer Obon festival, Hagiwara Shinzaburo meets a beautiful courtesan named Otsuyu. Not knowing she's a ghost, he becomes infatuated by her.”
 
As can often happen with IMDB.com plot synopses, there’s a bit more to this one and yet that services just fine.  What gets left out – more often than not – is some important character context; and I’m more than able to provide.
 
Hagiwara Shinzaburo (played by Hongô) is a man from a noble family.  As such, he’s been expected to kinda/sorta ‘follow in the footsteps’ of his great ancestors and current relations by pursuing a life amongst society’s elite.  In fact, we’re shown that this requirement even means he might have to wed a woman he doesn’t love just so that the household can save face when confronted with a bit of unexpected tragedy.  The problem, however, is that Hagiwara has seen what those cultural betters are like, and he’s having none of it.  In fact, he’s largely abandoned the old homestead and left all of that familial balderdash behind, instead choosing to pursue a career teaching children in a small and poor village nearby.  As a consequence, he’s been embraced by the locals, and they’re all perfectly willing to do anything this good man asks.
 
At the Obon festival lantern launch, Hagiwara comes to the aid of a small boy whose lantern has gotten caught in the weeds; and, shortly thereafter, he does the same for another small boat captured nearby.  From the darkness, two ladies – Otsuyu (Akaza) and Oyone (Michiko Ôtsuka) – step forward to thank him for his efforts and eventually follow him home that evening.  In private, Oyone confesses to the man that her mistress, Otsuya, is smitten with him; and she encourages him to agree to spend the remainder of the festival in her charms, clearly hoping that the two will inevitably find love.  It’s a curious matchmaking, indeed, but it works just fine for the purposes of the narrative.
 
What slowly emerges in part through Hagiwara’s investigation as well as that of his somewhat scheming assistant Banzô is that Otsuyu and Oyone are actually recent victims of tragic circumstances who’ve yet to pass into the beyond (mostly owed to the start of the festival).  Never having experienced authentic love, Otsuyu seeks a union with the teacher even though all become aware that – in the process – the consummation will drain his life force in our world so that he can join her in the next.  Naturally, the townsfolk have something to say about this union, and they’re willing to stop at nothing to save him from such a disastrous fate.
 
Like the best fairy tales, The Bride From Hades stays true to talking about true love – its truths, its gambles, and its consequences – and never strays from that path once it’s clear where all is heading.  There’s an almost Shakespearean slant to much of it, even including a bit of skullduggery by those who don’t exactly have everyone’s best interests at heart.  The script even pairs up Hagiwara and Otsuyu’s matching with Banzô and his wife Omine (Ogawa) to present a loose parallel for how manipulation might spell certain doom for both parties.  Sadly, the Banzô/Omine union gets a bit dark in the final reel – I suppose it had to in order to be an authentic comparison – leaving the actors’ work a bit schlocky and overwrought in places early on.  Still, the picture maintains a wonderful tone throughout, and it achieves tugging on the heartstrings of the audience with its depiction of love that might cost more than its benefits.
​

The Bride From Hades (1968) was produced by Daiei Kyoto.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Radiance Films.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be exceptional from start-to-finish.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Because I try to be as specific as possible, I’m doing the dutiful copy-and-paste from Radiance’s press release previously published on Blu-ray.com for both the set and the individual film:
​

• Audio commentary by author Jasper Sharp
• New interview with filmmaker Hiroshi Takahashi
• Trailers
• Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Filippo Di Battista
• New 4K restoration
• High-Definition digital transfer of The Ghost of Yotsuya
• Uncompressed mono PCM audio for each film
• Optional English subtitles for all films
• Newly designed box and booklet artwork by Time Tomorrow
• Six postcards featuring original archive imagery from the films
• Limited edition 80-page perfect bound book featuring new writing by authors Tom Mes and Zack Davisson, newly translated archival reviews and ghost stories by Lafcadio Hearn

 
As I was provided with an industry copy, I always remind readers that I’m not typically provided the physical inserts, booklets, and artwork.  As such, I can’t speak about the efficacy of those items.
 
Strongly Recommended.
 
While I could’ve used a bit more character development on the two ill-fated leads, The Bride From Hades remains one of the finer J-Horror entries I’ve had the good fortune to watch and review.  The fairy tale structure holds true – even with a bit of darkness in the middle segments wherein the audience gets treated to what Otsuyu and Oyone look like in their spectral forms – and it was refreshing to see a story wherein the little folk saw goodness in one man so exceptional that they were willing to fight for it.  In the end, the heart wants what the heart wants … but that’s part and parcel of why true love retains that bittersweet component few of us can live without.
 
In the interest of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Radiance Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of The Bride From Hades (aka Peony Lantern) (1968) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
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Oh, Tomie, Tomie, Tomie ... why do you have to be so elusive?

I believe I've seen 1998's Tomie.  I went through a barrage of so many J-Horror films at one time that in all honesty far too many of them blended together because I just didn't see enough uniqueness to them individually.  Now, that's not a critical assessment: it's just that when you watch, say, two or three or four of them in a row on some nameless weekend in the early 2000's you start to see how one release paved the way for the next without really bringing much new to the trend.  That's part of what makes trends into trends; and the home video explosion of the 1990's -- with a massive influx of Eastern imports -- just didn't pave the way for celebrating the flicks on a one-by-one basis.

Well ... that can be rectified now as Arrow Films is going back to the vault for an all-new November release of Tomie.  I've just received the details this morning, so I'm doing the dutiful copy-and-paste below.  Hopefully I'll be able to get my hands on one of these as it deserves a rewatch and coverage for all of SciFiHistory.Net's readership.  That's just how I roll.

In the meantime ... you know what to do.

-- EZ
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On November 19, the ‘90s J-Horror box office hit Tomie makes its U.S. debut in a Limited Edition Blu-ray release. 
 
Based on the smash-hit series by cult manga artist Junji Itō (Uzumaki), Tomie is about a detective Harada (Tomoro Taguchi, Tetsuo: The Iron Man), who investigates the murder of high school girl Tomie Kawakami (Miho Kanno, Dolls). He quickly learns this is a bigger case since several of her classmates and a teacher have committed suicide or have gone insane. The detective’s research shows that there was someone also named Tomie Kawakami who was murdered three years ago in a rural part of Japan. Further startling evidence reveals that numerous women named Tomie Kawakami have been murdered for over a century. The detective locates Tsukiko (Mami Nakamura, Tales of the Unusual), a surviving classmate of the latest Tomie. Instead of losing her mind, she merely suffers from amnesia. She has no memory of the time around Tomie’s murder. Tsukiko also doesn’t notice her neighbor’s fast-growing child who begins calling herself Tomie. What is the secret to this woman who won’t stay dead? Tomie’s box office success spawned seven sequels.
 
The special features include a brand-new audio commentary, new interviews with cast and crew, image gallery, trailer and an Illustrated collector’s booklet with essays.
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Hey, movie fans: have you ever had one of those films all of your friends told you to ignore?

I know, I know, I know: we've all had an experience with a film like that.  The funny thing for me is that usually I just ignore the advice on the same grounds that I don't often give film suggestions to my closest friends and family.  As I've often said, I like what I like ... you like what you like ... they like what they like ... and many times the stars just don't align.  I'm perfectly happy giving my reasons in this space about what I watch -- that's kinda/sorta my thang, if you missed it -- but at the end of the day I allow plenty of room for each of us to make up our own minds about what's worthwhile and what's not.

Still, I listened to them when they told me to ignore 2007's The Invasion, another loose adaptation of the Jack Finney novel that spawned so many good Invasion Of The Body Snatchers iterations.  And, frankly, I don't know why I listened to them.  I believe the consensus was that because of the fondness I have for the source material and the earlier flicks they felt I wouldn't have taken nicely to this one.  But regardless of whatever I've been told it's still one I've wanted to see, and maybe just maybe I'll give it the old sailor's try this November as Arrow Films -- one of the best distributors in the new releases business -- is sending an all-new product for mass consumption.

Just today, I received the press materials, and -- as per Arrow's reputation -- this one looks world-smashing (snicker snicker).  I'm going to provide the copy-and-paste from their announcement below; and everyone is encouraged to check this one out when it streets.

You know what to do.

-- EZ
​

On November 12, The Invasion makes its global debut on 4K UHD, as well as Blu-ray. This 2007 remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers puts humanity at risk from alien invaders, only this time it happens through an epidemic, instead of the pods used in previous versions. Featuring a 4K transfer, the film is presented in Dolby Vision (HDR10 compatible) and filled with both new and archival special features.
 
When a space shuttle wrecks upon re-entry, the debris scatters from Washington D.C. to Texas. Eager souvenir hunters grab the chunks of heat shield without having a clue that they’re covered in alien spores. The collectors are becoming infected and transforming into new beings. A psychiatrist, Carol Bennell (Nicole Kidman, Eyes Wide Shut), hears from a patient (Veronica Cartwright, Alien) who swears her husband is a different person. After their meeting, the psychiatrist notices strange things about the people around her: they are either freaking out or displaying no emotions. There are also reports of a fast-moving dangerous flu. After a night of trick-or-treating with her son, Carol makes a grisly discovery that she shares with her boyfriend, Dr. Ben Driscoll (Daniel Craig, Knives Out), and a leading biologist (Jeffrey Wright, Casino Royale). Can they discover the true nature of the infection and what happens when people fall asleep? The Invasion was eerily ahead of its time, with its tale of the effects of a post-pandemic world.
 
The special features include a brand-new audio commentary, a new visual essay, vintage featurettes with cast and crew interviews, trailer, an illustrated collector’s booklet with essays, and a double-sided fold out poster with new and original artwork.
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