As I’ve said before, I’m quite smitten with the world of noir, loving it for a whole lot of reasons but one in particular that I often share: noir is a black-and-white existence populated with broken people who make up ‘monsters of a sort,’ which is why I occasionally cover them in this space when I get the inkling. Such is the case today as I was provided a pretty interesting Blu-ray two-fer: 1947’s The Guilty and 1947’s High Tide appear as part of a dual-format edition from Flicker Alley.  I’ve had the time to take in The Guilty this morning, and I wanted to pen some thoughts for interested readers.
 
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for my final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com citation:
“Two guys, sharing an apartment, meet twin girls.  One’s sweet, the other a major piece of bad news.  The nice one is murdered, and her boyfriend is accused on the crime.  The wrong man-wrong victim plot strikes again.”
 
Though that synopsis kinda/sorta hints at who the guilty culprit may or may not be – along with a tease as to what may or may not have truly gone down in this set of circumstances – I promise not to spoil the brew, one of my longtime commitments to saving the best for you folks to discover when you take in a particular viewing.  Though The Guilty fits the textbook definition for what one expects from a vintage crime thriller, I thought it fell just a bit short of even a passably memorable noir.
 
Why do I think it fell short?
 
Well, that’s a complicated answer, one that strays very close to spoiling perhaps what makes The Guilty a unique viewing experience.  It isn’t all that uncommon for one of the characters to provide a background narration to a noir tale; that technique has long fueled the best crime procedurals if not all of the standard private eye stories for a generation of black-and-white pictures.  The notable difference between those films and The Guilty lies in the fact that this time – ahem – we may or may not be benefitting from how the narrator spins the yarn, and I’ve seen vastly greater balanced handled far better in later outings as well as other flicks of the noir era.  (Again, I’m trying to avoid divulging anything that strays a bit too close to spoilers, and this one is a hard sell.)
 
Those shortcomings aside, much of The Guilty takes places in a handful of sets, all of which lack any real definition or distinction to make them all that remarkable.  Clearly, the characters were meant to remain central to this particular mystery, so I can understand (to a degree) why so little effort and expense may have been put forth to give these locales a life of their own.  Still, I don’t think any producer or director – especially from the bygone era of film – did themselves any favors by shooting films on such lackluster settings.  The only scenes that breath a bit of life are the exteriors, but they’re very slim in this tidy 71-minute thriller so take heart when you can.
​

Still, I’d be remiss if I failed to point out that The Guilty does have a bit of uncharacteristic grimness as it applies to its handling of the murder.  The discussed details of the body – as well as a rare and welcome visit inside a 40’s era screen morgue – do elevate the picture beyond much of its routine.  You might just grimace yourself when you hear how the late Miss Mitchell became the late Miss Mitchell … and that’s an exceedingly uncommon occurrence for old films so far as this viewer is concerned.  I actually ‘backed up the tape’ to hear it again.  It’s a heart-stopper.
 
Performances are good, nothing all that chilling or thrilling.  Bonita Granville plays the twin sisters, and she manages to give each lovely lady a bit of character all of her own.  Don Castle fills the leading man shoes, and he chews a bit of scenery as he relishes both the ‘good guy’ and ‘bad guy’ elements that make up noir’s leading men.  Wally Cassell snivels a little too much as the ‘man on the run’ who seems to be concealing more than an innocent man would.  And John Litel gives a curious performance as a live-in family friend who wants a bit more than the usual room and board from the lovely sisters.
 
Again, The Guilty may not have quite rung the right notes with me, but I can still appreciate where it achieved something special.  Perhaps a tighter script – one that didn’t rely on the bookended narration so much – would’ve felt more organic and not so much like a screenwriter’s creations … but – at the end of the day – those victims ain’t gonna kill themselves, you know what I mean?
 
The Guilty (1947) was produced by Monogram Pictures.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable Flicker Alley.  As for the technical specifications?  The packaging materials state that the film was restored from a 35mm nitrate composite fine-grain master; and – yes – this looks and sounds exceptionally well given the flick’s age.  As for the special features?  The Guity is only one film in a two-film package from Flicker Alley, so some of the listed items below might pertain more to the second picture as opposed to this one, but here’s what this dual-disc set includes:

• Introduction to The Guilty and High Tide by noted author and historian Eddie Muller.
• A documentary exploring the works of producer/director Jack Wrather.
• A documentary exploring the life and works of author Cornell Woolrich.
• A documentary exploring the life and works of director, writer, and producer John Reinhardt.
• A featurette exploring the career of actor Lee Tracy.
• A commentary track for The Guilty conducted by author and scholar Jake Hinkson.
• A commentary track for High Tide conducted by film historian Alan K. Rode.
• Lastly, a collector’s booklet with poster, artwork, stills, and a related essay.

 
Mildly recommended.  As noirs go, this certainly doesn’t rank up there with any of my personal favorites, but I’d agree that director Reinhardt and the cast and crew accomplish a good look to what clearly had to be a fairly low-budget production.  My central issue with all of it relates to the how the story unfolds in the narrative, all of it requiring a kinda/sorta gotcha finale that doesn’t quite add up logically except for the fact that we were all misled … but such a thing happens all too often in the dark alleys lining cinema’s underbelly, don’t they?
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Flicker Alley provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Guilty by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

Well, well, well ... it isn't every day of the week that I get to wake up realizing that there's yet one more genre film out there that I'd never even heard of, peeps, so let's thank your lucky stars I got up today and decided to blog ...

The word on the street is that the folks at Blue Underground are delivering an Ultra HD 4K restoration to Larry Cohen mid-1970's SciFi/Horror God Told Me To this July 19th to interest parties in the consumer marketplace.  Given that it's Cohen, I am a bit surprised I hadn't heard about this one -- I've covered a good handful of his properties within SciFiHistory.Net's corresponding citation pages -- and I've reached out to the good people at Blue to see if I might be able to get my hands on a copy for review purposes.  Keep your eyes peeled on this space, and I'll bring you up to speed should I get to screen this one as it looks mighty, mighty interesting.

I'll be doing the usual copying and pasting of the information I've received via the company's press release below.  I'll also post the Amazon.com link right here if you're interested in zipping over that way and setting the package into your pre-order status.

As always, thanks for reading ... and you know the rest ...

-- EZ
​

​I’ve mentioned before (in this space) of my enduring fondness for all things involving High Strangeness.
 
Unlike others, I don’t feel any compunction to debate their authenticity because my capacity for appreciating things that go bump in the night isn’t limited to whether or not I can prove what made said ‘bump.’  In some ways, I find exploring generally weird phenomena like watching a movie: I never quite see where it comes from, so I can sit back and enjoy the ride while it all unspools.  UFOs are real – they’re captured on radar every day – and it’s only their explanation that changes; sometimes, this is because we learn more about the circumstances that led up to their discovery, while other times they end up being classified as legitimately ‘unknown.’
 
Over the years, there have been a few good docudramas that have explored matters of the occult, the supernatural, and the paranormal.  1993’s award-nominated Fire In The Sky (Paramount Pictures) peeled back layer after layer of the story of alleged UFO abductee Travis Walton, an Arizona logger who disappeared for five days only to return under curious circumstances.  The 1994 telefilm Roswell (Viacom, Citadel Entertainment) provided a very sound exploration of the people, places, and possibilities attached to the most famous UFO ‘fish story’ in human history; despite the U.S. government’s repeated denials of recovering a downed flying saucer, even the details in this motion picture suggest Washington DC isn’t telling what they truly know.  And 1989’s Communion (Allied Vision) told the story of Whitley Strieber, a man who discovered under hypnosis that he may have established contact with an alien species.  Strieber has built his own media empire around his experience and even continues to explore related matters in his own research.
 
Though I’d heard plenty about the telefilm The UFO Incident (1975) over the years, I’d never seen it … until now.  For the uninformed, it’s an adaptation of the book The Interrupted Journey (by John G. Fuller) that tells the story of Barney and Betty Hill, a married couple who claim to have been abducted late in 1961.  Like the Roswell story, the Hill’s account has been long considered ‘the Holy Grail’ of abduction stories, and I’m glad to finally confirm that it was given such a thoughtful and intelligent portrayal as it gets in the picture.  This one is – most definitely – a must-see for fans of such fare, and the performances by its stars even suggest it might be enjoyed by an even wider audience.
 
Yes, it’s that 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 my 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 citation:
“Through memory flashbacks accessed by hypnotic regression, [the film] depicts the alleged UFO abduction of Betty and Barney Hill on September 19, 1961 in the White Mountains of New Hampshire.  Upon returning from a trip into Canada, Betty (a social services worker in Portsmouth, New Hampshire) and Barney (a postal employee in Boston) are plagued by crippling anxiety and nightmarish visions.  Turning to Dr. Benjamin Simon for help in piecing together the happenings of that night, the Hills enter into therapy and independently relate a most unearthly tale.”
 
I’ve never been a big fan of the traditional docudrama for one very simple reason: as one who watches a lot of film and follows a bit of history, I’ve seen far too many times where events have been altered on film in order to make a story more compelling for the audience.  When it comes to capturing history, that’s a huge no-no in my book.  If storytellers want to draw on historical events as inspiration, then why not simply pluck whatever happenings are desired and craft it all together in such a way as to tell a fresh yarn of fiction?  Why deliberately distort truth in favor of unintentionally misinforming the audience?  Because it’s more persuasive?  Facts matter, and the truth should be powerful enough.
 
I think it’s safe to suggest that director Richard A. Colla approached UFO from a position with greater nuance; his film retains a humanity unlike very few others I’ve had the good fortune to enjoy.  Clearly, he wanted these two people grounded in a layer of the ordinary – alongside the more documentarian-style approach to their extraordinary recounting of the abduction, he treats the audience to moments that are plucked from anyone’s life.  Barney and Betty talk about their day.  They talk about their relationship.  They talk about their love for one another.  They share their hopes, their dreams, and their fears.  Colla establishes a foundation around these two characters first and only then draws back the curtain on their encounter with the unexplained.
 
By approaching the material this way, Colla practically debunks the potential debunkers: he delivers the Hills as commonplace regulars – the kind who likely live right next door to you and I – and strips away any pretense of this couple sensationalizing the events they relive in therapy.  Think what you may about High Strangeness, but Colla’s interpretation – and that of his screenwriters Hesper Anderson and S. Lee Pogostin – is that the Hills are victims – not extorters in any way possible.  It’s this freshness to examine the downright surreal that’s rare when Hollywood comes a-callin’ on the supernatural.  Nothing here gets the glamor shot.  Nothing requires any hyperbole.  It’s a bare bones retelling – accompanied by scenes that examine a true, loving companionship – and that speaks volumes.
 
As for the performers, James Earl Jones is fabulous in the role of Barney Hill; he exudes both a confidence about who the man was as well as the complex emotional core of a black man at a time when history wasn’t exactly on his side.  In contrast, Estelle Parsons fulfills the role of both a dutiful life partner as well as distinguishing what a strong woman Betty Hill was beyond her contemporaries.  As a couple, these two certainly broke the mold in ways occasionally frowned upon in their era, but these performances elevate the people beyond what’s been written about in books and in scripts.  They’re feel true, and that speaks to the strength of the project as well as to the credibility behind the Hills: you can’t imagine them making any of this up as a ruse.  As in life and on life, they just don’t seem the type.
​

As does happen in stories involving fringe events, Colla’s film never pronounces judgment.  Even the story’s central observer – Barnard Hughes plays Dr. Benjamin Simon, their hypnotherapist – states he’s unable to confirm nor deny the truth of what happened on that fateful night in September, 1961.  Going a step further, Simon even spells out how – scientifically – what he learns of the events is as equally statistically improbable of being fabricated as it is actually occurring.   Like the Hills, I suspect he wants to believe … but what would happen to a man of science who embraced this tale?  He knows all too well he'd be laughed out of a profession, so he stays silent.  He retains an independence.  While it’s clear that the Hills believe, Simon just can’t … even though he’s seen a shocking glimpse of what may lurk in waiting behind reality’s curtain.
 
The UFO Incident (1975) was produced by Universal Television.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) is being coordinated by the reliable Kino Lorber.  As for the technical specifications?  The packaging states that this is a brand-new 2K master, and I thought it looked and sound exceptional from start-to-finish.  (NOTE: throughout part of the telefilm, there is a background hum that I’ve read some folks suggesting might be an error in the transfer, but if you watch closely you’ll see that the hum is directly associated to the recordings made during the hypnosis sessions … meaning that is meant stylistically to be there.)  As for the special features?  The disc boasts a series of trailers for like-minded fare along with a commentary track (from historian Gary Gerani, a curious choice given the subject matter’s real-world implications) along with a feature-length documentary exploration the music of composer Billy Goldenberg.  (As of yet, I’ve not had time to watch these – just returning to the blog from the family vacation – but once I do I’ll update the post regarding any additional thoughts.)
 
Post script: Yesterday afternoon, I had the chance to take in the commentary track, and – to my surprise – it’s actually quite good.  Gerani balances the responsibilities of giving his assessment of the true story very well alongside an accounting of the efforts to bring the film to life.  I always found him very respectful of the fact that the truth – especially in cases like this – tends to be elusive: even the debunkers’ logic can be shown to stretch the bounds of what’s truly believable.  Though I thought he stayed on the fence a bit too much, he provides a very reasoned analysis to his take, and I enjoyed it.
 
Highly recommended.
 
I occasionally suffer a bit of blowback from folks who don’t feel I should be covering films, books, and TV shows involving matters of High Strangeness on a blog devoted to entertainment.  Some people stress that my thoughts on them in this space suggests that I consider them entirely fictional in nature, and nothing – nothing – could be further from the truth.  Though I’ve no reason to believe in the existence of extraterrestrials, unidentified flying objects, or various cryptids, I’ve no reason to discount their existence, either.  Furthermore, I’ve found in my own travels that folks who enjoy Science Fiction and Fantasy often are motivated to explore the fringes of known science, and the tale of Betty and Barney Hill is exactly the kind of thing they appreciate.  Lastly, this is – hands down – one of the best reasoned and impartial explorations involving the topic of alien abduction ever committed to film; that reason alone means it might just well be worth your time.  Suspend whatever notions you may have, and enjoy this story.  It’s a fabulous and riveting experience whether you believe or not.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Kino Lorber provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The UFO Incident by request for the expressed purposes of completing this review; and their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

​-- EZ

OK.  Time for a very, very, very brief recap.

Stranger Things Season 1?  Very, very, very good.

Stranger Things Season 2?  Very good.  Not as great as the first, but good.

Stranger Things Season 3?  Meh.  Honestly, I had all kinds of issues with it, most of which related to what I felt was a messiness to its pacing.  And I didn't care for the big mall finish.

Stranger Things Season 4?

Well, it's not concluded yet, silly fool, but I will say -- without question -- that it's the best Nightmare On Elm Street sequel that never involved the great Freddy Krueger to begin with.  Yes, it feels derivative -- many watchers and critics have even touched on that association (and there's nothing wrong with it) -- but it's a respectful association that clearly and cleanly ties in with cinema sentiments of the 1980's.  So there.

So I can't pronounce any verdict on Season 4 as of yet, but all of us will be able to when starting on July 1st the streaming behemoth Netflix drops the last two installments of this season.  I've read that both parts are feature-length outings -- meaning two-hours-plus -- so I guess we have to set aside a good chunk of time to experience what they're promising is an epic conclusion that may or may not spell the doom of our beloved Hawkins, Indiana.

Will there be deaths?

Well ... shucks.  There's no way for me to know, peeps, but as one who has watched an awful lot of genre stuff as well as tinkered with writing of my own, it's extremely rare for stakes to be raised this high and yet have everyone survive without a mark ... so I'm thinking that, yeah, someone is going to go down for the count.

Only time will tell.

Trailer is below.  You know you want to watch it.
​

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

​-- EZ

I can't be one of the last red-blooded American males truly intrigued by matters of High Strangeness, can I?

From the Roswell Incident to tales of Bigfoot and beyond, I've always been fascinated with truths that lie just beyond our collective ability to understand our universe.  This isn't to say that I believe, that I believe in all of them, or that I've made up my mind to disbeliever; rather, it's just an honest observation of the simple fact that I don't think we always have the facts, figures, and ability to grasp how fragile our grip on the cosmos is.  As some might say, "the more we learn, the less we know" seems to be an appropriate diagnosis for where we are as a people; and until we commit serious effort into legitimately defining any unexplained phenomenon (not merely debunking it) the truth will continue to slip further and further from our grasp.

Here.  Let me put it another way: I'm as skeptical of what we know as I am of what we don't know.

So with that in mind, I'm always thrilled at the opportunity to examine one of these topics, and I'll be doing that just tomorrow when I review 1975's The UFO Incident.

For those who've never heard of it, it's a 1975 telefilm that covers the story of Betty and Barney Hill, a married couple who found themselves (allegedly) abducted by aliens back in September, 1961.  As you might imagine, experiments were performed, lost time occurred, and their version of events were only recovered via deep hypnosis.  Any and all of the tropes commonly attached to the alien abduction phenomenon (with a few small exceptions) practically originate from this event, one of the very first of its kind with any official record.  I've not only long been aware of their story (it's been covered in a few books I've read) but also I've heard plenty about this telefilm ... so as you can imagine I'm pretty damn jazzed to finally have put my hands on a copy.

As this one is available for purchase today, I wanted to give it a plug for interested folks.  I'll throw in a link or two below as well for you to check out.

Amazon.com: Link for purchase

Wikipedia.org: The Betty And Barney Hill Story

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

-- EZ

2022's The Cellar is a good film.  It ain't great, folks.  It's good.

What I thought it did uniquely well was create a sense of dread around the fairly ordinary setting: this old house -- despite having some very weird markings above its doors and windows and whatnot -- has a fabulous old basement.  Having grown up in a house that also had this fabulously creepy basement, I can tell you that -- as a young'un -- I experienced more than my fair share of frights in those deathly hallowed halls.  It was the kind of place you never wanted to be caught down in when the lights went out, and it was the stuff of legend for any good number of movies.

The Cellar makes great use of its location.  Though I found its ending more than a bit unsatisfying, it's hard to fault those ghostly interiors in any way: much like the haunts of my youth, the one depicted here was easily acceptable as the foyer to a dark underworld awaiting those inhabitants.

From what I know, the film drops onto shelves today for those who prefer picking up physical media (I'm still hooked on it, though I make exceptions from time-to-time); and I'll put a few good links below for interested parties to check out.  You know what to do.

My review of The Cellar (2022): link

Amazon.com: link for purchase

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

-- EZ

Sigh.

Honestly, folks, I do very, very, very little promotional support work, both for myself and the website as a whole, but I am thinking about changing it up a little bit.

For one reason: Science Fiction and Fantasy is my passion, and I do think it deserves to be celebrated vastly more than it gets in the mainstream.  When movies like Jurassic World: Dominion can be so fundamentally 'plain Jane' and yet still manages to put butts in the seats for your local silver screen outlets I think that says -- definitively -- that folks love the genre, too.  The fact that it doesn't draw more attention from centrists is just plain silly, in my book, so I'll try to right the ship as time permits.

In any event, I was scanning the list of marketplace releases for today, and I wanted to pass along a little something something that I found over on Bluray.com: it would look like 1992's Universal Soldier is getting a special 4K Blu-ray Steelbook release today available only at your local Best Buy store (or via BestBuy.com, of course).

This is another one of those SciFi/Fantasy films that I have a decided love/hate relationship with.  I absolutely love the premise, but I think this film was so gloriously tepid that I have a hard time embracing it.  Jean-Claude Van Damme and Dolph Lundgren just do average work here -- perhaps a set of different actors or maybe a recasting of one or the other would've worked better -- but the managed to start a franchise out on legs strong enough (and split-kicked enough) to produce a handful of sequels ... so there's something to be said about that.

These Steelbooks are great collectible items, too, so maybe this is the kind of item you might wanna pick up for that special someone?  The silly season (aka we say "Christmas" at SciFiHistory.Net) isn't all that far around the corner, so this might be the perfect stocking stuffer.  Pick it up today, stick it in the closet hiding place, and pull it out, wrap it, and gift it closer to time.  Just make sure that the recipient has the necessary 4K Blu-ray player to support it.  I do, and I love all of the films I've watched on mine.

In any event, I'll place a few links below for interested parties.  You know what to do about that.

BestBuy.com: link

Universal Soldier 4K Blu-ray Steelbook Exclusive: link

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

-- EZ

​As much as I love a good werewolf movie, I’m honestly surprised personally on how long it’s taken me to watch The Howling (1981).
 
It’s one of those films I’ve read a lot about – heard even more about than I’ve read – but it just never quite fell onto my radar.  My suspicion is that because it came out at a time when An American Werewolf In London (also 1981) had set the bar really, really, really high that the Joe Dante film just kinda/sorta slipped past without a second glance.  Though I’d enjoyed snippets of it in documentaries and whatnot over the years, what I saw just never quite intrigued me enough to set everything aside and digest it properly.
 
That’s remedied now, my friends, and I’ve devoured the movie in a single sitting just recently.  It was on pay cable, I DVR’d it (no special features, so I’m really coming at it entirely from my own perspective), and I do have a little something something to say about it.  Are you surprised?  Don’t be.
 
(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 citation:
“After a bizarre and near deadly encounter with a serial killer, a television newswoman in sent to a remote mountain resort whose residents may not be what they seem.”
 
In all fairness, The Howling is and isn’t a werewolf movie.
 
This Joe Dante-directed flick has been a cult favorite of many over the years, and I don’t think it ever really had the kind of break-out success afforded other Dante inspirations.  There could be a lot of reasons for that, but I’d suggest it comes up just a bit short mostly because it both embraces and ignores the traditions of the monster movie in enough curious ways that purists struggle with its ‘fluency over principle’ while, instead, praising its practical effects work and performances, both which are worth the price of admission alone.
 
As I’ve recently written, the best monster movies abide by a set of unspoken rules.  I won’t trouble you with the particulars, but I will say that the most adored monster movies never stray from the central premise that the monster itself is a tortured and misunderstood figure who deserves our pity because, alas, he or she or it (or they or fae or whatever the going pronouns are today) never asked to be reduced to such a lowly creature.  The Howling completely negates that fundamental core, instead choosing to ‘world build’ a society wherein lycanthropes exist as a growing subset of civilization, to the point wherein they now have their very own resorts, it would seem!
 
The always fabulous Dee Wallace stars as Karen White, a local market television newswoman who’ll stop at nothing to break the big stories of her California home.  Though the script only loosely suggests she’s been hot-on-the-trail of a local serial killer in its set-up, it becomes clear very early that something ain’t quite right when the deceased murderer’s body completely vanishes from the city morgue.  In the meantime, Karen’s emotional struggles in breaking the story hit a boiling point, and kindly ol’ social scientist Dr. George Waggner recommends some “time away” at his private retreat (where they’re supposedly doing good things in treating stress).
​

As the film develops, we learn that the retreat is actually a front for a growing cult of werewolves who are curiously engaged in reshaping society to … well … it isn’t all that clear … which hints at the overall problem I had with so much of The Howling’s script, attributed to John Sayles and Terence H. Winkless (adapted from the Gary Brandner novel).  Essentially, these creatures are wolves in name only as it would seem they don’t follow the traditional method of transforming into said monsters by the light of the silvery moon.  They can, in fact, transform apparently whenever and wherever they want, opening the door to a whole lot of bloody activity whenever and wherever the script desires.  It’s a curious way of transcending the traditions, true, but I found it a bit distracting.
 
As I suggested above, what truly works in The Howling are its players and practical effects.  Wallace is always fetching, and she handles the lead here capably through some typical Horror melodrama up until the big climax.  Though actor Christopher Stone is, largely, sidelined through the second half as our lead’s love interest, he makes decent use of the time given to him; and his transformation into one of the members of this macabre cult makes the most narrative sense.  Belinda Balaski – a name that deserves more celebration for her time in this picture than she’s received – turns in solid work as Karen’s workplace confidant whose investigative work initially cast suspicious light on Dr. Waggner’s compound only to then find herself trapped in all of the terrifying theatrics.  And the perennially fresh-faced Dennis Dugan makes a nice turn as another news station employee eventually hell bent on uncovering the truth behind just how widespread this monstrous affair has grown.
 
And about those practical effects?
 
Though I’d argue that the werewolf transformation sequences do pale in comparison to those that made so much of An American Werewolf In London as groundbreaking as it was at the time, they’re a very, very, very close second place.  From what I’ve read, effects work was evolving in the early 1980’s, but these craftsmen were definitely raising the bar on what had come before – especially in the field of lycanthropy flicks – and The Howling deserves to be mentioned alongside that John Landis effort.  Much like Superman: The Movie made audiences believe a man could fly, these features made them believe the switch from one lifeform to another was not only possible but – more importantly – would be horrifically painful, sweaty, and plausible.  Even the Academy Of Science Fiction, Fantasy, And Horror Films agreed as much as they nominated The Howling for the Saturn Awards in those related technical categories.  Yes, the effects are that good.
 
Though the script is plagued by some rather mundane drama and predictability at times, the narrative does tap into one of the era’s growing trends: various ‘healers’ and soothsayers were actively mining the marketplace to sell their various psychological ‘cure-alls’ to anyone with a disposable income.  Culturally, we were starting to look inward at what ailed us, and The Howling’s Dr. Waggner was clearly inspired by these stewards who thought psychology needed to be introduced at each and every personal crossroads.  Dare I say that Waggner’s hidden desire to – ahem – drain us dry (of blood!) was as brilliant and prescient back then as it remains today?
 
The Howling (1981) was produced by AVCO Embassy Pictures.  The film is currently available on home video via several releases.
 
Recommended.
 
The Howling (1981) is far from perfect – it needed more bite and less bark – but it does offer up those rare perfect moments, many of which are linked to the actors, actresses, and artisans who made it a sight to behold both for its day as well as its place in film history.  Dee Wallace has never looked lovelier, werewolves have rarely looked deadlier, and mankind’s curious investment in flash-in-the-pan social reform (via groupthink and psychology-related seminars) has never been quite as insidious as is depicted here.  Still, it’s following is far more cult than mainstream (from what I can see), and that’s a surprise: it’s a property ripe for a remake … or maybe a continuation?  Stranger things have happened.

​-- EZ

​Oh, Walt Disney, you’ve certainly made Obi-Wan Kenobi a difficult series to love universally.
 
For example, you ramped up a relatively simple kidnapping story relatively slowly, instead choosing to focus on Ben’s ‘salad days’ on Tatooine.  Granted, you needed a bit of time to introduce a few new faces to the ongoing saga in that galaxy far, far away; but christening fandom as racists when they didn’t embrace your flatly-defined new villain Reva (Moses Ingram) didn’t exactly earn a vote of confidence from audiences, either.
 
Then, you reduced a brave and noble Jedi Master – such as Kenobi was – to the point wherein our hero needed a ten-year-old Princess Leia to rescue him (emotionally) as opposed to vice versa (the whole premise behind this limited series).  While there’s nothing wrong with the warrior having grown a bit old and gray in the ten years since we’d last seen him, perhaps your writers went a bit too far?  Slowing him down with age comes naturally, but when the Force is his ally?  I’d think he would’ve retained a bit punch than you granted him in those early episodes.
 
Episode 5 – which was big on action but a bit bereft of logic – gave Kenobi a brief return-to-form: with nearly everyone audiences have been encouraged to care about painted into a corner on Jabiim, the former general took charge of the dire straits, rallied the troops, and staged a counter offensive to the Empire’s attack on the spaceport.  Most of the action was deliciously staged with the ragtag group of folks likely on the way to becoming members of the Rebel Alliance exchanging blaster fire with the galaxy’s worst shots ever (Stormtroopers), and even the newly appointed Grand Inquisitor Reva and the dark lord of the Sith himself – Darth Vader – stepping into the spectacle.
 
But … I have questions …
 
Would Vader really have placed Reva in charge of a ground offensive?  I believe I’m on record as not being all that enamored with these ‘Inquisitors’ to begin with (not in this show, per se, but in the entire Star Wars universe), but have we ever seen that they were trained to lead troops into combat?  It seems to me that these Inquisitors are the type to show up after the action has secured the Jedi survivors so that they can do what they do once things are under control.  While they may’ve been trained to face-off against Force users, I’m at a loss to know anything further about their role with the Imperial military, and those scenes felt a bit off to me.
 
Also – while we’re on that topic – if all it took was Reva marching up to the sealed blast door, pulling out her lightsaber, and slashing the lock away, then what was the need for all of those cannon blasts?  Mind you, there were no rebel troops posted outside the door, protecting it, securing the grounds against Imperial oppression … so why not just have her do what she did instead of wasting all of that precious time (and effects budget) on efforts that bore no fruit?  Again, it felt like an obvious attempt to deliver some visual eye candy to viewers, and I’ve found moments like those cheapen the story inside of enhancing it.
 
And – as long as I’m now on the topic of Reva – what’s with the sudden downplaying of massive bodily injuries being inflicted by those lightsabers?  The movies pretty much established that it’s a lethal weapon – Qui-Gon received a fatal blow from Darth Maul in The Phantom Menace when that blade impaled him through the belly – but this miniseries has not one victim (the original Grand Inquisitor) but a second (Reva) surviving the same move.  Are these instruments for good somehow metaphysically and existentially weakened by the fall of the Republic?
​

Lastly, how in the name of all that is Holy in the universe did the ten-year-old Princess Leia suddenly gain the knowledge of a spaceport laborer?  When they needed to come up with a way for these people to ultimately get out of their predicament, who was it on the writing staff who really thought giving the youngest among us the know-how to work alongside the galaxy’s best mechanics?  Sorry, folks, but this was just plain damn silly – if not damnably stupid writing.  It would’ve made more sense to have her toy droid Lola put things back the way they were – especially since the robot messed them up in the first place – but I don’t wanna beat a dead horse … erm … dead Bantha.
 
I could go on – Kenobi’s back-and-forth between the action was a bit distracting (first, he’s surrendering, then it’s some massive misdirection, etc.) – but I think you get the point.  Visually, yes, the hour was fabulous; but I thought its structure reeked of amateurish screenwriting.
 
For the record, I’ve always been one to agree that fandom can be guilty of overthinking some elements of the movies and series.
 
I might disagree with why we do it – I honestly think it’s part-and-parcel of loving something as dearly as we do a franchise – but, inevitably, I’d agree that it does get in the way of our enjoying some of the lesser moments of any tale.  Expressing such fondness isn’t always easy, and I think the way we’re all wired has us trying to examine little things to make sense of the bigger ones.
 
That’s why I think it was very touching that, finally, Obi-Wan Kenobi delivered a bit of what I’d call “fan service” by opening this important hour with a terrific flashback: the Jedi Master and his fateful padawan, Anakin Skywalker, engaged in a training bout back in their happier days on Coruscant.  Not only did the hour start this way, but this battle’s development and denouement were used to frame the progress of the episode.  Kenobi delivered Anakin a very telling lesson involving why the student failed, and their exchange related visually to how each man approached fighting a battle.  This was storytelling done right … and it was the episode’s only reward.
 
Reva’s reveal – one that I think even much in fandom had predicated since the first episode – was handled very well (honestly, I think it’s one of the highpoints of the entire series, which is why unlike others I’ve been slow to criticize her as a character); it had the kind of nuance viewers appreciate, and maybe it’ll even have some of her detractors changing their tune.  Now, we can care about her and her journey.  We can feel for her.  We can – if we choose – cry for her.
 
We couldn’t do that before because we knew so little about her except what was written (and written poorly), and I think that the Mouse House’s attempts to paint all of us as racists in those early exchanges reflect a sad state of the union for corporate America: if they (the audience) don’t like it, hurl the cheapest, laziest, most offensive insult at them to shut them up, and press onward.  I’ll not forgive the company any time soon – nor sirs Ewan McGregor and Hayden Christensen for jumping on that Disney-sponsored bandwagon – and you know what?  That’s ok.  That’s my right.  Disney be damned.
 
But Episode 5 finally did right by the character, and I’ll celebrate that seven days a week and twice on Sunday.  Yes, it’s sad that it took them five episodes to do right by her, but they finally got us to a place wherein we can all agree on something … and that’s progress.

​-- EZ

Good morning and Happy Wednesday, peeps!

I just wanted to pop by with a quick procedural announcement, that being that I'm on vacation!

All this really means is that I'm working with very, very, very limited internet access.  I'm at a fairly secluded location with somewhat limited WiFi connectability, so you won't receive much info over the next few days.  Even an Imperious Leader such as myself needs some time-off, you see, but I'll still try to do my part -- when the technology cooperates -- to get some stuff up and running as to announcements and the like.  I did just post a review of The Orville's season premiere (on Hulu), and -- as the web is presently cooperating -- this feverish post.  Also, I've always found it a bit difficult working exclusively from my laptop -- without the advent of a big-ass monitor -- so these old eyes will do the best they can.

In the meantime, keep up the good work!

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

​-- EZ