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

On this day in 2022 (in a whole host of countries around the world), the Walt Disney Company sadly buried Disenchanted -- a sequel to its wildly popular Enchanted (2007) -- on its ill-conceived streaming platform, Disney+.  Directed by Adam Shankman from a screenplay by Brigitte Hales, the film starred Amy Adams, Patrick Dempsey, Maya Rudolph, and others. 

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

"Fifteen years after her happily ever after, Giselle questions her happiness, inadvertently turning the lives of those in the real world and Andalasia upside down in the process."

-- 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:
“Astronauts, and their robotic dog AMEE (Autonomous Mapping Evaluation and Evasion), search for solutions to save a dying Earth by searching on Mars, only to have the mission go terribly awry.”
 
Surprisingly, I’ve seen Red Planet (2000) more times than any one person should ever need.
 
Now, don’t take that as an assessment of its quality because – in all honesty – this little picture is occasionally a bit of mess.  The script attributed to Chuck Parrer and Jonathan Lemkin never quite figured out what it wanted to be, sometimes feeling like a homegrown space adventure where Artificial Intelligence – not unlike The Terminator – has found us inferior and sets out to rule the Martian roost.  Still, in other spots, Planet tries very hard to be that ubiquitous SciFi/Romance – a rarity if ever there were – where two star-crossed souls find themselves against the backdrop of space exploration.  But the sad thing is that there are even more places wherein this 100+ minute morality play has all the makings of an episode of the classic Star Trek, albeit one where not every member of the crew makes it out alive.
 
The difficulty is presenting a story with so accommodating an aesthetic is that audiences tend to gravitate more strongly toward a cohesive whole they can either identify with or – minimally – understand the plain stakes.  It’s for this reason that I’ve spent so much time with Red Planet: I wanted desperately to understand why it didn’t coalesce around a central narrative, so I sat through it (on DVD over the years) a few times.  Thankfully, this isn’t the only project I’ve done this with, but it is one whose central shortcomings still elude me to this day.  And, yes, that’s frustrating.
 
Essentially, Planet starts out with the standard Hollywood trope: in the near future, we’ve pretty much destroyed Earth and need to establish colonies elsewhere, the most obvious planet of which would be Mars.  For reasons these future scientists don’t understand, our terraforming efforts from afar have broken down, mustering up the need to send a ship and a crew to the world to investigate.  Space – being forever an inhospitable host – throws several monkey wrenches into the mix once the crew arrives, forcing the specialists into a somewhat ‘crashed landing’ situation while the brave female captain Bowman (played by Carrie-Anne Moss) stays in orbit trying to repair their craft’s damage for the return voyage.  On the surface below, the men – Chantilas (Terence Stamp), Santen (Benjamin Bratt), Pettengil (Simon Baker), Burchenal (Tom Sizemore), and Gallagher (Val Kilmer) – succumb to differing threats one-by-one, leaving them in a race for survival against the elements and a murderous robot gone haywire owed to no fault of their own.
 
Now, I’ve spent a bit of time with this new release from Arrow Films – one of the best distributors in the business – in hopes of uncovering some glint of information to help me better grasp why the flick has never quite worked for me.  The only thing that I came across – which was really more an affirmation of things I already knew to a small degree – was that some elements of Planet’s final story kinda/sorta emerged while it was actually in production.  For those of you who didn’t know this, it was an effort heavily plagued by – shall we say? – cast disagreements, arguments so heated that both Kilmer and Sizemore refused to appear on set together at any time.  (I’ve even read that restraining orders were taken out on each other, but I’ve never seen that substantiated.)  If you’ve seen Planet, then you realize what difficulties this created as their two characters – and their planet-bound friendship – arguably carry the second half of the picture.
​

In his interview available on the Arrow Films’ release, special effects supervisor Jeffrey A. Okun details the extent to which the Kilmer/Sizemore feud derailed the production.  The man also highlights precisely how some digital challenges were resolved on the set; and he expands upon the lengths to which he had address a good number of these creative issues on the fly.  To the man’s credit, his work rather seamlessly pulled a lot of these loose ends together – so much so that I suspect the majority of the audience was properly fooled – but because his account also clarifies that some trickery had to be resolved whilst the feature was actively being shot, there is the lingering suggestion that some elements were changed so that producers could stay under budget.
 
Of course, I’ve absolutely no way to know today precisely how much of this imaginative problem solving ultimately effected the end product; but – as a reasonable person – I’m willing to venture a guess that it did require significant course corrections.  Planet always felt to me like there were – for lack of a better phrase – band-aids applied to cover up the scars here and there because there was no way to halt production entirely and let the healing begin.  No development moves organically from one to the next; and – thematically – the finished product feels very much like it was pasted together more out of necessity than anything else.  As a consequence, Moss’ voiceovers – while interesting – only serve to frame a rather impromptu romance between her and her subordinate, never quite justifying the reason for their attraction except that … well … she’s hot and so is he.
 
I don’t often do this, but I think Planet could’ve been better received had this actually been a Star Trek-style fable.  Imagine that some Earth corporation or institution in the distant future had set about the business of locating suitable worlds of expansion (someplace vastly further out than merely Mars); and – just like happens in the existing script – that science mysteriously fails.  Necessarily, a captain and crew would’ve been dispatched to investigate, only to uncover some new menace or emerging science forcing mankind to rethink its place in the cosmos while racing against the clock to get out alive.  While that thing has been done before, it generally interests ticket-buyers when it’s done right; and such a simple change could’ve been the foundation for a new SciFi franchise.
 
Red Planet (2000) was produced by Warner Bros., Village Roadshow Pictures, NPV Entertainment, The Canton Company, Mars Production Pty. Ltd., and Zaman Productions.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, wow.  Seriously, Planet was always a pretty good-looking film technically, but this 4K upgrade both looks and sounds incredible.  While the space fire sequences are still a bit underwhelming (they’re just so obviously CGI), Okun and his team truly put the lion’s share of their budget to excellent use throughout, as did the costume and set designers.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Finally, Planet is getting its due, and Arrow has produced some interviews, a visual essay, and some deleted scenes (nothing revelatory) to give fans something worthy of the investment.
 
Alas … only Mildly Recommended except if you’re considering the upgrade because this is definitely worth the purchase.
 
While some might suggest that there are a myriad of small problems that keep a flick like Red Planet (2000) from truly achieving anything significant, I tend to chalk its general failure to being a film that didn’t know what it wanted to be.  Part space adventure, part psychological drama, and part morality tale, it isn’t quite Star Trek enough to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with that franchise; and yet it shares some of the same storytelling DNA which suggests perhaps that was a better way forward.  That and a whole lot of bad press in the industry trades portend that maybe this little film was never ever going to go boldly where no one had gone before, and instead it sits where it is – on our big blue marble – waiting to be discovered and appreciated for what it is … which is pretty forgettable.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of Red Planet (2000) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
​

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

On this day in 2015 (in the U.S.), audiences in attendance of the Housecore Horror Film Festival were treated to the theatrical launch of When Black Birds Fly.  Written and directed by Jimmy ScreamerClauz, the animated film featured the voice talents of J.D. Brown, Brandon Slagle, Devanny Pinn, and others. 

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

"A charismatic leader named Caine demands obedience from the citizens of a town named "Heaven". The town is at peace until two children break his greatest rule: Never venture beyond the town's walls."

For the record:
To the film's credit, When Black Birds Fly earned a wee bit of praise from a screening on the film festival circuit.

-- EZ

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

On this day in 2010 (in the U.S.), audiences in attendance of the Wanderings Film Festival were treated to the theatrical debut of Unaware.  Written and directed (in part) by Sean Bardin, the film starred Heather McCormick in what appears to have been an entirely solo affair. 

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

"In July 2010, a vacationing couple discovered something disturbing on a ranch in rural Texas. Armed with a home camcorder, they captured their experience on video."

For the record:
To the film's credit, Unaware earned a wee bit of praise from screenings on the film festival circuit.

-- EZ
​

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

On this day in 2014 (in Italy), the laughs were a bit hard to come by -- as planned -- with the theatrical release of Clown.  Written (in part) and directed by Jon Watts, the film starred Andy Powers, Laura Allen, Peter Stormare, and others. 

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

"A loving father finds a clown suit for his son's birthday party, only to realize that it's cursed."

-- 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:
“Near the end of WW2, prisoners of war are used in experiments to perfect the "Aryan" race.”
 
Mind you: I’m no prude.
 
In point of fact, I’ve watched a great deal of exploitation cinema, some of it by choice and others owed to being offered a new release via a distributor relationship.  There’s a good number of titles that deserve a second look – both historically and critically – for if nothing else inspiring a trend and/or attempting to do some novel, creative, or thematic with its subject matter.  This isn’t to say that exploitation – as a subset to several major genres – needs any kind of cultural overhaul: rather, it’s clarifying that – on some occasions – some talented storytellers and their associated talent did try to accomplish something greater than spilling blood, flashing breasts, and igniting the viewer’s deepest and darkest passions … for better or worse.
 
However, SS Experiment Love Camp (1976) just isn’t one of them.
 
Mirelle (played by Paola Corazzi) and a cadre of equally attractive women have been captured by the Nazis and hauled off to a secret concentration camp under command of Col. von Kleiben (Giorgio Cerioni).  There, the colonel orders his men on break from the Eastern Front to participate in an array of sexual experiments meant to seek out and explore mating habits of the Aryan male.  All of the research is under control of Dr. Renke (Patrizia Melega) and the somewhat reluctant Dr. Steiner (Attilio Dottesio), a Jewish refugee who has disguised himself as a German scientist.  But von Kleiben hides a secret goal – one he has hidden away from prying eyes – which might just prove to be not only the death of him but also the end to this particular brand of Nazi terrorism!
 
Oy.
​

Now, as I said, I’m no prude; and, yes, Love Camp wallowed for decades I’m learned with a controversial reception around the world (especially so in Great Britain).  Censors in several European countries banned the flick’s release (back in its original release timeframe), a development that actually increased the film’s potential to become an underground fascination.  Indeed, these Nazi bastards – dubbed ‘Nasties’ by some – do engage in a great deal of torment, all of which gets inflicted upon some lovely, naked subjects; and, yes, a fair amount of it turns out to be sexual degradation (i.e. rape and other non-consensual acts).  Still, in fairness to writer/director Sergio Garrone, I found the vast majority of it very tame, especially by comparison to what I’ve watched elsewhere, which didn’t even rise to the level of censorship (though still deemed controversial content by many).
 
Perhaps a greater degree of scrutiny was applied to Love Camp because – to Garrone’s credit – the feature possesses the bare bones of a narrative story.
 
As fate would have it, the devious von Kleiben was neutered (quite literally) in his past when he tried to have his way with what I believe was a Jewish girl (she disguises her willingness to submit long enough to bite off his … erm … manhood); and he’s secretly conscripted Steiner to monitor the endless string of visiting soldiers for a libido replacement.  Helmut (Mircha Carven) is assigned to the secret base for a few days, and – after careful examination – Steiner concludes that … erm … this unfortunate man’s testicles could be a suitable replacement.  Since the soldier has fallen head-over-heels for his assigned mate Mirelle – who reciprocates because movie love is always ‘love at first site,’ even with a Nazi – the young man is happy to do all he can to stay near her.  Little does he know that his inevitable sacrifice will make him entirely incapable of satisfying her carnal desires.
 
Garrone frames a fair portion of the action around these curious triangle, giving his audience minimally a chance to invest in these characters and their respective relationships.  While it isn’t delivered with any great degree of theatrics, each talent does what he or she can with the material; and, thankfully, Helmut and Mirelle’s coupling is staged in such a way to suggest that their sex isn’t forceful nor degrading.  Though they’re surrounded on all sides by assault and depravity, their spark is meant to be authentic, suggesting that sometimes even in madness some humanity might prevail.  Sure, that’s a pretty hefty message for exploitation, but it’s there, nonetheless.
 
Of course, the problem lies in the fact that – ahem – none of these players are really all that gifted as Thespians, no insult intended.  Second and third tier actors and actresses were drawn to such assignments, and stronger players were required to elevate even these slim pickings to the point wherein audiences might wish our young couple a chance to make it in the wide, wide world beyond this Socialist hellscape.  Theirs is a love that wasn’t meant to be; and – as a consequence – it gets destroyed in glorious fashion before the end credits roll.
​

If you haven’t guessed it already, then let me spell out clearly that – even as exploitation goes – there’s vastly more entertaining stuff out there waiting for consumption; and Love Camp – even with its curious controversies – isn’t quite up for the challenge it lays out.  There’s a curious absence of what these Nazis were attempting here – if it’s to expand the Socialist state with newborns, then why are all of these women summarily executed? – and I refuse to accept that it was all intended to restore von Kleiben’s ‘mini me.’  Though a few sequences suggest Garrone (and his other scripters) were mildly interested in sex and intercourse as a practice, there’s just no central explanation for what how they believed rape was the key to the Aryan future, making this whole affair entirely forgettable.
 
SS Experiment Love Camp (1976) was produced by Società Europea Films Internazionali Cinematografica (SEFI).  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at 88 Films.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I can assure readers that the film looks very good but sounds a bit tinny in a few spots.  Again, I think it’s easy to conclude that any significant deficiencies are likely owed to inferior sources.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Well … wow!  There’s an impressive number of extras on here – including an audio commentary that’s informative – and a good deal of it relates more toward exploitation than it does film-specific.  (There is plenty to learn, so don’t be put off by that statement.)  There’s even a solid collector’s booklet included that’s a great read.
 
Alas … this one is truly Hard To Recommend … except for those who might be completist about socialist-inspired (soft) pornography.
 
Erm … is it just me, or does anyone else find it highly hypocritical of the Italians – of all people – to venture into the world of Nazi exploitation filmmaking?  I mean … weren’t they in on all of that stuff back during World War II?  Seems to me as though that was what I remember from history class; and even though my teacher never covered the subject matter of SS Experiment Love Camp (1976) one would think that wiser minds might’ve prevailed on behalf of the Italians.  Whatever the truth may be, Sergio Garrone’s film isn’t so much a mess as it is endlessly messy, never quite clarifying what all of the hubbub in here was about much less precisely where these Aryans thought such “science” might take them.  This was a far cry from developing the V2 – which might’ve given them a fighting chance – unless it was Germany’s intent to flood the territories of their enemies with prostitutes.
 
In the interest of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at 88 Films provided me with a complimentary 4K UltraHD Blu-ray of SS Experiment Love Camp (1976) 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
​

Confession time, folks: unlike a great number of males of my generation, I don’t worship at the trough of All Things Predator.
 
Now, don’t get me wrong: I’ve no major issues with the 1987 original.  The John McTiernan-directed Science Fiction actioner remains one of the great flicks to come out of the 1980’s, and there’s no denying that this formulaic winner not only set the bar high for competitors but also laid a foundation atop which a fascinating expanse of imitators tried to build their own wing.  Honestly, my issues with it lie more in the fact that some of the performers are a bit over-the-top hammy – yes, I know many will tell you that’s deliberate – and I’ve just never quite been comfortable with that style of acting.  There are also a few snippets of dialogue in the Jim and John Thomas penned script that – were it me directing or editing – I would’ve excised for no other reason than I see them as more than a bit silly.  Of course, I hear you, I hear you: there’s no argument against its exalted place in filmdom, but ‘round these parts each of us are allowed to have civil disagreements on what we think works and doesn’t, and, yes, there are some trivial things I’d alter.  Such is life.
 
Still, my fondness for both the film and the place it rightfully holds in film history has made me an attentive participant in the larger Predator fandom.  Also unlike many others, I’m not a huge fan of Predator 2 (1990), Predators (2010), or even The Predator (2018), having some pretty large complaints over characters and circumstances within each that gets a bit too complicated to go into lightly (nor do I wish to at this point).  While 2004’s AVP: Alien Vs Predator was only an entirely acceptable popcorn variant on a scenario previously explored much better in Dark Horse Comics, it, too, is inferior in far too many ways to count; and it’s safe to say that – so far as this viewer is concerned – the entire Predator species deserves better treatment than it’s ever gotten in the silver screen.  Hell, even 2022’s Prey – the Hulu telefilm that kinda/sorta served to demonstrate that maybe Hollywood should, at least, dust off this property and give it some consideration – kinda/sorta missed the boat a bit in what works and what doesn’t in this unique universe; and yet it still offered up a few moments worthy of consideration.
 
All of this brings me to – ahem – Predator: Badlands (2025), a spiritual sequel (of sorts) to Prey but, thankfully, it goes almost entirely in a different narrative direction.  Rather than deliver one more treatise of a seminal hunter in pursuit of its quarry, Badlands expands on that formula by giving audiences a huntsman in search of more than simply a trophy: Dek is an inferior offspring meant to have been culled from his clan whose survival grants the alien an opportunity to say something greater about his species’ addictions to rules, requirements, and traditions in an era (ours) that heavily invests in – ahem – diversity, tolerance, and “one’s own personal truth.”  As a consequence, Badlands has ignited some controversy across fandom as to whether or not it’s a necessary story in this world as opposed to being a rather obvious (if not lazy) modernization of the whole mythology.
​

Of course, breaking a few eggs is always required to make an omelet, and I suppose that’s true if you look at Badlands as being something akin to a breakfast meal.  In the wrong hands, however, a bunch of broken eggs becomes less of a delicacy and more of an egg soup; and I think that’s part of the risk with this installment … along with several other significant factors …
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A young Predator outcast from his clan finds an unlikely ally on his journey in search of the ultimate adversary.”
 
A quick search of Google.com informs that there exist in our universe a total of eight films involved the Predator universe at this point.  No that it necessarily matters to the pictures, there have also been comic books, graphic novels, as well as written adventures that have all used the alien species in some capacity.  Suffice it to say, if you’re a Predator fan, then it’s still a great time to be alive … and not hunted!
 
Despite having been given a respectable deal of exposure, there isn’t all that much mythology that’s been openly attached to the race.  In fact, one might be able to count the bullet points on a single hand as to what is universally accepted as Predator truths; and – whether one agrees or not – I suspect that’s been done by design.  Some creatures simply work better when they’re a bit mysterious, and we’re not allowed to pass all that deeply behind the curtain.  Removing what makes them unique – that they’re shrouded in secrecy and ripe to turn up whenever needed – has served the franchise better than most; and – dare I say – fans don’t typically show up to a Predator film expecting some new nugget of treasured information about the critters.  Rather, they’re here for the action.  They’re here for the excitement.  They’re here to experience the vicarious thrill of the hunt.  And that’s the bottom line.
​

So taking a character and redefining its role theatrically – i.e. making a Predator into not one of the main players but the absolute central character to everything that transpires – was always going to be an unwarranted risk.  In storytelling, main characters require greater exposure to the audience.  Whether we like it or not, we get to know them on more than one level, sometimes meaning that we get to see what their lifelong goals and aspirations might be.  These movers and shakers are imbued with arcs – journeys for goodness or ill – and they actively walk toward accomplishing some major goal or overcoming a fundamental weakness meant to turn them into better people.  Of course, there might be some modest interest in watching a hunter – as an example – get better at his craft by honing his skills and achieving the intellectual skill set necessary to rise to the leadership of his clan; and, yet, overall such a trip isn’t (again) why fans purchase a ticket to watch a flick in the Predator universe.
 
Consequently, Badlands is that anomaly in the franchise.   Instead of doing that which has been done before, writer/director Dan Trachtenberg plotted out more of a coming-of-age story: Dek (played by Dimitrius Schuster-Koloamatangi) is a Yautja runt who was designated as inferior and sent out by his father to be killed by his brother, Kwei (Michael Homick), in some kind of ritual showdown.  Instead, Kwei opts to use this as a ‘teachable moment,’ hoping to teach the younger hunter some of the mental and psychologically talents necessary to succeed.  Not unlike Jedi Warriors training to be the best they can be, Kwei and Dek use Badlands’ set-up to solid effect, chasing one another through the catacombs of an alien world trying to best one another in a staged hunt.
 
Naturally, all of this turns to crap when Daddy Dearest (Reuben de Jong) shows up to find Dek still alive and kicking.  Such open disobedience from Kwei is a challenge to his leadership, and the Father takes up arms against his older son, rather easily wiping out the upstart in pretty spectacular fashion.  In his dying moments, Kwei locks Dek aboard his own spaceship and blasts the youngling off toward a distant world where the Predator is granted the chance to capture and bring back the head of a Kalisk, the only creature known to have instilled fear into his father and the rest of their clan.
 
As I said, it isn’t all that hard to see how Badlands both uses and ignores certain pieces of what has come before in its growing cosmos.  Unlike Trachtenberg’s initial suggestions, Dek is a very skilled seeker – he’s tested multiple times on this planet named Genna before ever getting near the famed Kalisk – so much so that there’s not a great deal of doubt as to whether or not he’s destined for greater things.  The twist here is that his bounty turns out to be essentially unkillable – it possesses an almost magical ability to regenerate itself, even while decapitated – so Dek still has something to learn about knowing one’s adversary before hatching a scheme to go out willy-nilly.

Because the film feels deliberately crafted to expand upon what’s been established before, Trachtenberg incorporates the modern Hollywood template that strongly asserts that families aren’t all they’re cracked up to be and – in some cases – don’t deserve the respect they’ve been given over the years.  Defying his training, Dek kinda/sorta joins forces with Thia (Elle Fanning), a Weiland-Yutani synthetic that’s been dispatched to Genna to – interestingly enough – recover a specimen of a Kalisk so that the corporation can study its reformative properties. While our Predator initially refuses to help Thia (she’s already been torn in half by another indigenous creature), he has a ‘change of heart’ once the synth suggests that he think of her more as a tool – or a weapon – meant to be used in the completion of his hunt.  For the record, this is only the first ‘change of heart,’ and Badlands clearly seeks to recast the franchise’s internal dynamics to reflect contemporary ideals instead of staying true to past strengths, instead portraying them as weaknesses.
 
This is exactly the kind of Cultural Revision that so much of die-hard fandom speaks up against. 
 
Instead of delivering entertainment which adheres to already existing lore or even the most basic rules of these fictional universes, Hollywood and its most vocal proponents have sought to dismantle that which makes these properties special in order to recast them in molds intended to – ahem – better fit their political ideologies.  In other words, rather than give audiences what they want, this modern age of storyteller has stripped the superhero of nationalism and replaced them with global identities.  They’ve defanged monsters in pursuit of pushing allegories which suggest science is now ‘in the minds’ of those who choose which genes are dominant in their own bodies and not unalterable DNA.  In Star Wars, they’ve made Jedis – who seek no love – into homosexuals and even pedophiles who’ll use their skills to advance individual schemes instead of striving for law and order.  In Star Trek, they’ve promoted captains who constantly cry and almost magically know the right solution without ever having authentically earned the chance to sit in the center seat to command.    In Doctor Who, they’ve swapped genders, promoted a trans-lifestyle, and even gone so far as to suggest long-established definitions and roles of men, women, and babies need to be reconsidered.
 
It's this kind of Moral Creep that infests far too much of modern filmmaking.  Instead of telling good stories, storytellers believe they’ve earned some God-given right to stand atop the cinematic soapbox and preach about what they personally believe ails society as a whole.  When audiences show up expecting to be entertained, these charlatans instead take their opportunities to sit in judgment over things their writing suggests they either know little about, deliberately ignore, or might be completely ignorant of.  While, yes, I’ll concede there’s a bit of this undercurrent throughout Badlands, I’ll always admit that – in all honesty – I wasn’t all that much offended.
​

You see, it’s a fictional universe; and while I can accept that some viewers show up – like even myself – to critically assess what’s good and noble in the entire effort I just couldn’t get all that worked up about Trachtenberg’s sermonizing.  While the film unquestionably ends on a note suggesting that he’s hoping to entirely redefine what role gender plays in the Predator universe (I won’t spoil it, but let’s just say the female of the species is suggested to be vastly more terrifying than the male has ever been), I just didn’t care enough about these central characters to get all that invested in this bit of fluff.  It’s passable escapism, at best, with a healthy side order to proselytizing; but – in the finale – it just felt … erm … inconsequential?
 
Frankly, I find it more objectionable that Trachtenberg has debatably pulled directly from Native Indian culture to revamp the Yautja.  Were I so inclined to get up on my own soapbox and take a stand, why wouldn’t I argue against keeping what makes one race unique in the real universe separate from your fictional ones?  Of course, there can be similarities, but I felt it was pretty evident what comparisons the screenwriter was trying to both make and advance here; and – were I of a certain heritage – I might take issue with the cultural vandalism.  (Hell, one might even suggest that these Yautja acted far more like Star Trek’s Klingon warriors than they did true Predators!)  But as I often say, “To each his own …”
 
Furthermore, Badlands utilizes much more Comedy to tell this particular story, and I’m not certain how much of it was all that effective.  Laughs are often inserted to lighten the mood or allow audiences to take a breather from the thrills and chills, so some of Thia’s one-liners are perfectly acceptable.  Drawing a line – especially when it comes to humor – is never an easy decision because who wants to sacrifice a great laugh even if it’s unnecessary?  A handful of smaller moments here could’ve been strengthened dramatically if Trachtenberg had allowed those themes to simmer, but perhaps he couldn’t help himself once he got that ball rolling.  The last reel includes an assortment of violent slapstick (Thia finds her bottom half, and it develops a life of its own) that I never thought I’d see in a Predator film, and yet here we are.
​

I have followed some of the reportage regarding Badlands’ controversy.  In short, fandom hasn’t quite known what to do with the picture in these early days: some of trashed it as theatrical blasphemy while others seem to ‘dig the vibe’ that cast and crew tried to minimally do something different within the wider Predator universe.  At this juncture, I’m inclined to agree with what I heard over on a Film Threat bit wherein they suggested Badlands works better as a non-Predator movie than it does a genuine entry.  As a space adventure movie, it works quite well – Genna is a site to behold with these massive flesh-eating tree snakes, fields of razor-sharp glass, acid-spitting snakes, and some exploding worms – but as a true addition to the whole hunter/prey formula?  Well … some of this stuff gets handled poorly, so … consider me unconvinced.
 
Recommended.
 
Like others, I had a good degree of fun with Predator: Badlands (2025) but only when I took it as something other than a Predator film, which this most decidedly was not.  Demystifying some of what makes these hunters unique is dangerous, and personifying them is even wrose.  Some of the Weiland-Yutani stuff seemed like a way to cop-out doing anything original with the second half – haven’t we already seen that company doing this sort of thing enough? – and I wasn’t all that much thrilled with the army of synthetics trying to pose any real threat to a Predator (for Pete’s sake).  Independent of the wider universe, Badlands had some prospects going for it.  Let’s just say that Trachtenberg clearly had some issues with coloring inside the lines.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m beholden to no one for this review of Predator: Badlands (2025) as I viewed the film entirely of my own accord.

-- EZ
​

When it comes to the fantastic output of Hammer Studios, it’s safe in almost every conceivable way to conclude: “this is most definitely not your father’s average Horror outing.”
 
While the great monsters of Universal Pictures first came to life on the silver screen in the 1930’s, Hammer Studios opted to give these vintage chillers their own makeover in the 1950’s.  With bigger budgets and a greater emphasis on the true gothic template in which all of these creatures and critters inhabit, Hammer presented audiences with some darker, mysterious, and even somewhat miserable interpretations of these tortured lives and their attempts to pursue happiness, sometimes in even the most carnal ways.  Though critics were sometimes caught in print ‘clutching their pearls’ over such nasty visions, viewers rather enthusiastically embraced this wicked aesthetic turn, happily plunging into Horror’s grimmer yarns at a time when Science Fiction and Fantasy had grown a bit too pedestrian, a bit too unfocused.  Indeed, the studio’s growing success smacked entirely of irony because only a mere two decades earlier merry old England had pretty much banned American Horror imports on the grounds that they had grown too violent and frightening.  Now, everything British censors hated was back; and a path to theatrical success showed brightly in the dark.
 
1957’s The Curse Of Frankenstein wasn’t Hammer’s first Horror film, but it was their first in color.  Over time, some have suggested that it was this one simple choice that initially paved the way for what would become an impressive output of Gothic chillers with some growing even more gruesome as the time changed.  Directed by Terence Fisher and scripted by Jimmy Sangster (though based obviously on the Mary Shelley novel), the film was also revered for giving Peter Cushing – one of Hammer’s biggest stars – his first big break in the genre.  Certainly, the actor made his interpretation of Victor Frankenstein something to watch in true theatrical fashion, a role he inhabited five more times for the studio in sequels to this original.  Also aboard this new incarnation were Hazel Court, Robert Urquhart, Christopher Lee, Valerine Gaunt, and others.
 
Paralleling Victor’s idea of creating bold, new life, this Curse did just that, not only for the Shelley tale but also the entire Horror genre.  It was back in style … this time in color!
 
(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:
“While awaiting execution for murder, Baron Victor Frankenstein tells the story of a creature he built and brought to life - only for it to behave not as he intended.”
 
At a time when Hollywood and many other studios around the world were still relegating Horror stories to second tier entries, Hammer Studios did the unthinkable: they decided to produce their latest effort – The Curse Of Frankenstein – in vivid color.
 
Lo and behold, one relatively simple creative choice put Hammer on the cultural map … a place they remain even to this day.
 
My first exposure to the studio’s unique output – believe it or not – was back in my junior high school days, and I remember it vividly though which particular film honestly escapes my old mind.  Living in the United States, I wasn’t all that familiar with this uniquely British take on Horror; but at the height of the Halloween season my middle school decided to pull the student body to the gymnasium for a feature film event.  The school principal introduced the production, warning the student body that if anyone felt ill at any time during the screening they’d be free to leave.  Naturally, we assumed he was joking; but then the lights dimmed, and – while I can’t be exactly certain – I believe the first reel of Dracula: Prince Of Darkness (1966) unspooled.  As it did, the boys cheered … and the young ladies squealed.  Young fans were made that day, but not a lot of them were of the fairer sex.
 
But back to Curse …
 
With the death of his mother, a young Victor inherits the Frankenstein estate.  His first executive decision – as it were – is to bring aboard a tutor, one who can teach him the ways of science.  Paul Krempe (played by Robert Urquhart) is hired; and over several years (via montage) the two are shown establishing the clinical foundation which the emerging young scientist (Peter Cushing) will enact his agenda to seize destiny on controlling life itself from nature.  Indeed, the two are successful at reanimating a young dog – no mention on how the thing passed in the first place, and that should be a cause for concern – and this benchmark rather quickly turns to Frankenstein desirous of more.  Once he announces his plans to bring back a human being, it is Krempe who begins to regret the ‘young monster’ he's inadvertently created.
 
Of course, there’s more to the story than just the growing moral divide between the two men; and – for what it’s worth – the time spent with the seminal monster (Christopher Lee) is reasonably brief in here.  (This is not to suggest in any way that it’s insufficient: rather, it’s a bit more supportive of the overall narrative than it is the central focus.)  As it turns out, the younger Victor didn’t always have his attentions fixed on his studies; and we learn that he engaged in a highly sensual affair with the castle maid Justine (Valerie Gaunt), a relationship that turns out very poorly for the lady.  Also, the mature Victor eventually brings his lovely cousin under the roof: Elizabeth (Hazel Court) proves to be a temptation that some suggest introduces a chasm between our two scientists though nothing regarding a possible love triangle is ever authentically introduced (so far as I could tell) in the script.  But as all roads here lead to a climactic confrontation between these players, it’s legitimate to say that these alliances are always shifting; and rarely does that work out to Victor’s benefit.
​

Thankfully, the melodrama never gets too deeply centered to mire down the story.  Screenwriter Jimmy Sangster – an accomplished contributor to the Hammer library – keeps most of the focus on the moral triangle between the men here – Frankenstein, Krempe, and the Monster – leaving a good degree of what could’ve happened between Paul and Elizabeth in the realm of speculation.  The scripter also keeps the cast reasonably small as Curse unfolds with a surprisingly intimate story more so about desire gone bad as opposed to science running awry.  In this incarnation, it’s Victor’s unchecked ambitions that lead to some monstrous results – both personally and professionally – and the man’s inability to see his descent into ethically dubious territory proves to be what inevitably leads to his own personal doom.
 
The Curse Of Frankenstein (1957) was produced by Hammer Films.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive.  As for the technical specifications?  Wow.  While I’m no trained video expert, I can still assure readers that this 4K restoration both looks and sounds impressive.  There are a few sequences wherein colors don’t quite pop – nothing in here is unusually bright, and the template is obviously pretty somber – and I would guess that any deficiency is owed to issues with the source material.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  Well … it’s alive!  It’s alive!  This 3-disc collection has an astonishing collection of just about everything (I honestly haven’t made it through all of them at this point), along with four different audio commentaries (two new, two which appear archival) … so true fans will be spending an incredible amount of time with this one.
 
Strongly Recommended.
 
Even though I’ll admit to not being as big a fan of The Curse Of Frankenstein as are so many, it’s easy to see how this singular effort arguably set the standard upon which others could build with Hammer’s distinctive style in the years ahead.  Instead of portraying Frankenstein as only a scientist possessed by his visions of Godhood, Victor in this tale turns his struggle outward, terrorizing those around him – sometimes unintentionally – as the stakes are raised, always mounting against his success to accomplish the unthinkable.  In Curse, he’s far more the monster than The Monster ever truly was; and maybe that’s because of professional jealousy?  You see, ultimately, it was god who made his creature’s life possible – with a symbolic strike of thunder – and not Frankenstein’s science.  That fact alone likely didn’t sit well with Victor; and he suffered The Curse as a result.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary 4K UltraHD Blu-ray of The Curse Of Frankenstein (1957) 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
​