In the past, we here at SciFiHistory.Net – meaning me – have received a bit of scorn from readers and content creators within the paranormal, supernatural, and UFO community.
In short, this has happened because I, as a critic, choose to review properties – even fact-based docudramas and straight documentaries – that explore themes consistent with those groups. As this remains my blog, I invest time, effort, and thought into those things that tickle my fancy, not necessarily yours. While I reserve the right to make my own mind up on the efficacy of such stories, I strongly believe these projects deserve to both be made and discussed at length. Still, the assessment of those complaints is that I do a disservice to abductees and/or eyewitnesses to such phenomenon by including my thoughts alongside such rather obvious works of fiction. But whenever I am asked, I always explain that it’s my policy – as a writer – to cover just about anything that interests me and the fans of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror: as I’ve found that enthusiasts of such genre entertainment to be entirely accepting of the subject matter, I choose to include it in this space. In no way should such inclusions imply that I found them fabricated; I’ll always leave that up to the individual consumers.
After all, alien invasions couldn’t happen without flying saucers delivering their occupants to our planet. Eerie mansions couldn’t be haunted without ghosts and spirits infecting those spaces with their presences. Exorcisms wouldn’t be needed were there no demonic entities to seize mortal souls. As all of these elements tend to fall within the auspices of films, television shows, and books of SciFi, Fantasy, and Horror, I choose to shine a bit of light on them when I can. Such is my policy, and such it will so long as I’m calling the shots.
Today’s fascination?
1989’s Communion – a biographical exploration of contactee Whitley Strieber – has long been regarded as one of the benchmark theatrical experiences that delved into the alien abduction phenomenon. Directed by Philippe Mora and adapted for the screen (from his novel) by Strieber himself, the drama starred Christopher Walken, Lindsay Crouse, Frances Sternhagen, Andreas Katsulas, and Terri Hanauer in key roles. Originally released in 1989, the film mostly failed to inspire audiences, never even earning back its reported $5M production costs. I’ve read that even Strieber wasn’t all that enamored with the end result, a curious assessment since it’s been said that he produced the script and worked with Mora during the shoot.
(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 December 26th Whitley Strieber has a strange nightmare. In the following days, plagued by painful headaches, his behavior becomes increasingly erratic. Later, under hypnosis, he realizes that his dream was not a dream at all.”
Having not read the original source novel, I can’t speak for how factually Communion might represent this dark moment from the life of Whitley Strieber.
In short, this has happened because I, as a critic, choose to review properties – even fact-based docudramas and straight documentaries – that explore themes consistent with those groups. As this remains my blog, I invest time, effort, and thought into those things that tickle my fancy, not necessarily yours. While I reserve the right to make my own mind up on the efficacy of such stories, I strongly believe these projects deserve to both be made and discussed at length. Still, the assessment of those complaints is that I do a disservice to abductees and/or eyewitnesses to such phenomenon by including my thoughts alongside such rather obvious works of fiction. But whenever I am asked, I always explain that it’s my policy – as a writer – to cover just about anything that interests me and the fans of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror: as I’ve found that enthusiasts of such genre entertainment to be entirely accepting of the subject matter, I choose to include it in this space. In no way should such inclusions imply that I found them fabricated; I’ll always leave that up to the individual consumers.
After all, alien invasions couldn’t happen without flying saucers delivering their occupants to our planet. Eerie mansions couldn’t be haunted without ghosts and spirits infecting those spaces with their presences. Exorcisms wouldn’t be needed were there no demonic entities to seize mortal souls. As all of these elements tend to fall within the auspices of films, television shows, and books of SciFi, Fantasy, and Horror, I choose to shine a bit of light on them when I can. Such is my policy, and such it will so long as I’m calling the shots.
Today’s fascination?
1989’s Communion – a biographical exploration of contactee Whitley Strieber – has long been regarded as one of the benchmark theatrical experiences that delved into the alien abduction phenomenon. Directed by Philippe Mora and adapted for the screen (from his novel) by Strieber himself, the drama starred Christopher Walken, Lindsay Crouse, Frances Sternhagen, Andreas Katsulas, and Terri Hanauer in key roles. Originally released in 1989, the film mostly failed to inspire audiences, never even earning back its reported $5M production costs. I’ve read that even Strieber wasn’t all that enamored with the end result, a curious assessment since it’s been said that he produced the script and worked with Mora during the shoot.
(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 December 26th Whitley Strieber has a strange nightmare. In the following days, plagued by painful headaches, his behavior becomes increasingly erratic. Later, under hypnosis, he realizes that his dream was not a dream at all.”
Having not read the original source novel, I can’t speak for how factually Communion might represent this dark moment from the life of Whitley Strieber.
However, I have read several other tomes that have gone into some great depths with the alien abduction phenomenon, one that has interested me for many decades. I say that as one who has no reason to discount any of the experiences in any way, and yet I’ve always wanted to know more about what these individuals have endured. I’m of the belief that something is happening to them; while it may not exactly be entirely what they perceive it to be in those moments and in the subsequent recollections, it must be something. Furthermore, I have questions about how and why so many unconnected contactees can have so many similarities to what may have happened miles if not years apart; to me, this underscores that there must be deep-rooted cultural links that tie different races together far more than it separates us. I find that thought alone somewhat comforting.
Even though Strieber may not be considered a household name – well, certainly not in mainstream homes – he’s emerged as a credible force within the UFO community, someone who has stayed at the forefront of discussions about aliens, first contact, disclosure, and just about anything else that might align with such interests. As an author, he continued to recount his experiences across multiple books as well as branching out and crafting fictional novels – largely Horrors, I believe – and even dabbled in motion pictures and television screenwriting. Also, I believe he still hosts a weekly podcast – Dreamland – via his own website, Unknown Country.
Viewing the film as an introduction to the man’s wider story, I’m not convinced that audiences would be all that interested in following along, much less digging deeper into what might be one of the paranormal’s best documented tales. Mora’s direction of Strieber’s account never really gives any answers as to why it all began except to suggest in conclusion that the author earned a successful career and maybe even a cottage industry out of it: his original book – Communion: A True Story – was published in 1987 to some acclaim, and it stayed on the nonfiction best seller list for an impressive six months.
The picture opens by recounting Strieber (played by Christopher Walken) was struggling to come to terms with a severe bout of writing’s block that kept him from achieving any meaningful success. In fact, his ups and downs were strongly suggested to put some occasional strain on his marriage to Anne (Lindsay Crouse) and even hindered him from being the perfect dad to son Andrew (Joel Carlson). Hoping to get away from it all at their cabin in rural New York, the trio along with family friends Alex (Andreas Kasulas) and Sarah (Terri Hanauer) escape the big city only to find their night interrupted by bright lights and – possibly – first contact. Distraught and no longer able to relax in the peace and quite of the countryside, they all head back home.
However, Strieber’s troubles persist. A return visit to their family retreat only seems to exacerbate the man’s inability to connect with his wife and child, so much so that Anne eventually insists he seek out a medical solution. When his personal physician can find no explanation for Strieber’s growing disaffection, he refers his patient to Dr. Janet Duffy (Frances Sternhagen), a psychologist who inadvertently taps into a somewhat dark and sinister secret wrapped up behind some hidden memories. It would seem that there’s far more to Whitley’s experiences than what first meets the eye, a diagnosis that’s seemingly confirmed when Anne, too, recounts under hypnosis what her subconscious has recorded.
Even though Strieber may not be considered a household name – well, certainly not in mainstream homes – he’s emerged as a credible force within the UFO community, someone who has stayed at the forefront of discussions about aliens, first contact, disclosure, and just about anything else that might align with such interests. As an author, he continued to recount his experiences across multiple books as well as branching out and crafting fictional novels – largely Horrors, I believe – and even dabbled in motion pictures and television screenwriting. Also, I believe he still hosts a weekly podcast – Dreamland – via his own website, Unknown Country.
Viewing the film as an introduction to the man’s wider story, I’m not convinced that audiences would be all that interested in following along, much less digging deeper into what might be one of the paranormal’s best documented tales. Mora’s direction of Strieber’s account never really gives any answers as to why it all began except to suggest in conclusion that the author earned a successful career and maybe even a cottage industry out of it: his original book – Communion: A True Story – was published in 1987 to some acclaim, and it stayed on the nonfiction best seller list for an impressive six months.
The picture opens by recounting Strieber (played by Christopher Walken) was struggling to come to terms with a severe bout of writing’s block that kept him from achieving any meaningful success. In fact, his ups and downs were strongly suggested to put some occasional strain on his marriage to Anne (Lindsay Crouse) and even hindered him from being the perfect dad to son Andrew (Joel Carlson). Hoping to get away from it all at their cabin in rural New York, the trio along with family friends Alex (Andreas Kasulas) and Sarah (Terri Hanauer) escape the big city only to find their night interrupted by bright lights and – possibly – first contact. Distraught and no longer able to relax in the peace and quite of the countryside, they all head back home.
However, Strieber’s troubles persist. A return visit to their family retreat only seems to exacerbate the man’s inability to connect with his wife and child, so much so that Anne eventually insists he seek out a medical solution. When his personal physician can find no explanation for Strieber’s growing disaffection, he refers his patient to Dr. Janet Duffy (Frances Sternhagen), a psychologist who inadvertently taps into a somewhat dark and sinister secret wrapped up behind some hidden memories. It would seem that there’s far more to Whitley’s experiences than what first meets the eye, a diagnosis that’s seemingly confirmed when Anne, too, recounts under hypnosis what her subconscious has recorded.
This being the late 1980’s, the visual trickery used to detail Strieber’s contact experiences is quite good. All of it was handled via practical effects and staging – CGI was really only coming into being, at this point – and the resulting sequences – while probably equally confusing at times to viewers as they were to the author – still hold up significantly decades later as I’m viewing them. There’s an ambiguity to all of it – the probing and the purported dialogue – that rarely points watchers in any substantive direction, leaving all of us to make up our minds about what is real and what might be misinterpreted. Granted, a few of the non-human entities – there’s more than a single species encountered here – have very little facial distinctiveness, but I think that helps amplify the indefinable core of what really happened that still surrounds the account.
Still, the lack of closure arguably keeps Communion from becoming anything greater than the sum of its limited parts, and that’s likely the reality for any contactee’s involvement. While Strieber and Mora might drop a hint here and there, audiences are never pushed in any specific direction – do these beings want peace, or are they pranksters merely screwing with one man’s existence – and the absence of a moral foundation truly leaves everything hanging in those last scenes. What does work effectively is Walken and Crouse’s portrayal of a husband-and-wife team who find themselves entirely in uncharted waters. Their commitment to one another – while obviously taxed to their emotional limits – does tie everything together here; but I suspect most will find fault (if not downright confusion) with Strieber in the last reel where he seemingly funs off happily with the notion that he’s finally found a subject worth writing about again.
Erm … was he not just anally probed?
Communion (1989) was produced by Allied Vision, Morgan Creek Entertainment, Pheasantry Films, and The Picture Property Company. A quick Google.com search indicates that the flick is widely available via digital streaming for those who like that sort of thing. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be mostly solid: a great deal of the sequences uses practical effects, and – despite a few minor quibbles here and there – I thought the multiple aliens were credibly captured. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? As I viewed this one via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
Recommended.
Rather than provide answers, Communion (1989) tries to cover in dramatic bullet-point fashion the ordeal that put author and contactee Whitley Strieber on the map (as they say). While the picture is well made and boasts solid performances from Walken and Crouse, the script – much like all of us – never quite knows what to make of the central story. Without some narrative hints as to what could be the motivation behind these entities, the tale feels as if its groundless, and the scenes – while sometimes horrific and sometimes comic – could’ve used a bit more suggestion as to what we – as a species – are to make of such encounters if and when they’re taking place. Realizing we’re not alone is only the beginning, and someone involved really should’ve stepped up to even mildly intimate an agenda … even only if it were a single possibility.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for this review of Communion (1989) as I viewed the motion picture as part of my very own subscription to Amazon Prime Video.
-- EZ
Still, the lack of closure arguably keeps Communion from becoming anything greater than the sum of its limited parts, and that’s likely the reality for any contactee’s involvement. While Strieber and Mora might drop a hint here and there, audiences are never pushed in any specific direction – do these beings want peace, or are they pranksters merely screwing with one man’s existence – and the absence of a moral foundation truly leaves everything hanging in those last scenes. What does work effectively is Walken and Crouse’s portrayal of a husband-and-wife team who find themselves entirely in uncharted waters. Their commitment to one another – while obviously taxed to their emotional limits – does tie everything together here; but I suspect most will find fault (if not downright confusion) with Strieber in the last reel where he seemingly funs off happily with the notion that he’s finally found a subject worth writing about again.
Erm … was he not just anally probed?
Communion (1989) was produced by Allied Vision, Morgan Creek Entertainment, Pheasantry Films, and The Picture Property Company. A quick Google.com search indicates that the flick is widely available via digital streaming for those who like that sort of thing. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be mostly solid: a great deal of the sequences uses practical effects, and – despite a few minor quibbles here and there – I thought the multiple aliens were credibly captured. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? As I viewed this one via streaming, there were no special features under consideration.
Recommended.
Rather than provide answers, Communion (1989) tries to cover in dramatic bullet-point fashion the ordeal that put author and contactee Whitley Strieber on the map (as they say). While the picture is well made and boasts solid performances from Walken and Crouse, the script – much like all of us – never quite knows what to make of the central story. Without some narrative hints as to what could be the motivation behind these entities, the tale feels as if its groundless, and the scenes – while sometimes horrific and sometimes comic – could’ve used a bit more suggestion as to what we – as a species – are to make of such encounters if and when they’re taking place. Realizing we’re not alone is only the beginning, and someone involved really should’ve stepped up to even mildly intimate an agenda … even only if it were a single possibility.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for this review of Communion (1989) as I viewed the motion picture as part of my very own subscription to Amazon Prime Video.
-- EZ
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