Classic Movie Themes: Alien
Alien is a unique genre milestone. It challenged the established aesthetic created by 2001: A Space Odyssey of space travel being pristine, clinical and high tech and replaced it with a grimy, industrial quality. The space tug Nostromo is also a conspicuously “blue collar”, civilian venture, underwritten by a large corporation. As for H. R Giger’s xenomorph, it redefined the depiction of extraterrestrial life in movies. Director Ridley Scott brought visual style and atmosphere to particularly unglamorous and dismal setting. He also scared the hell out of audiences at the time with his slow burn story structure and editing style that hints, rather than shows. Overall, Alien is a text book example of how to make a horror movie and put a new spin on a classic and well-trodden concept.
Alien is a unique genre milestone. It challenged the established aesthetic created by 2001: A Space Odyssey of space travel being pristine, clinical and high tech and replaced it with a grimy, industrial quality. The space tug Nostromo is also a conspicuously “blue collar”, civilian venture, underwritten by a large corporation. As for H. R Giger’s xenomorph, it redefined the depiction of extraterrestrial life in movies. Director Ridley Scott brought visual style and atmosphere to particularly unglamorous and dismal setting. He also scared the hell out of audiences at the time with his slow burn story structure and editing style that hints, rather than shows. Overall, Alien is a text book example of how to make a horror movie and put a new spin on a classic and well-trodden concept.
Jerry Goldsmith’s sombre and portentous score is a key ingredient to the film’s brooding and claustrophobic atmosphere. Yet despite the quality of the music, Goldsmith felt that the effectiveness of his work was squandered by Ridley Scott and editor Terry Rawlings who re-edited his work and replaced entire tracks with alternative material. However what was left still did much to create a sense of romanticism and mystery in the opening scenes, then later evolving into eerie, dissonant passages when the alien starts killing the crew. The fully restored score has subsequently been released by specialist label Intrada and has a thorough breakdown of its complete and troubled history.
Perhaps the best track in the entire recording is the triumphant ending and credit sequence, which was sadly removed from the theatrical print of the film and replaced with Howard Hanson's Symphony No. 2 ("Romantic"). This cue reworks the motif from the earlier scene when the Nostromo undocks from the refining facility and lands on the barren planet, LV-426. It builds to a powerful ending which re-enforces Ripley’s surprise defeat of the xenomorph and its death in the shuttles fiery exhaust. Seldom has the horror genre been treated with such respect and given such a sophisticated and intelligent score. Despite its poor handling by the film’s producers, Alien remains one of Jerry Goldsmith’s finest soundtracks from the seventies and yet another example of his immense talent.
Ronald Erle Grainer (11 August 1922 – 21 February 1981) was a prolific Australian composer who is best remembered for his work in the United Kingdom during the sixties and seventies. He wrote numerous notable scores and theme music for several iconic television shows such as Doctor Who, Steptoe and Son and Tales of the Unexpected. He also composed the soundtrack for several major motion pictures such as Some People (1962), The Assassination Bureau (1969) and The Omega Man (1971). Grainer relocated to London from Australia in 1952 but it was not until 1960 that he gained critical success after writing the music for the popular TV show Maigret. He subsequently received an Ivor Novello award for “Outstanding Composition for Film, TV or Radio”.
The following is about a cultural change. That is not to say that it’s a value judgement or one of those posts you so frequently read by bloggers of a certain age, that essentially boil down to “things were better in my day”. It is merely an observation and like all observations it is not 100% universal. There will always be exceptions to the rule. I am simply painting with broad strokes a general truism for your consideration. My point being that people listen, experience and enjoy music differently these days compared to how they did three to four decades ago. I’m not talking about the science of hearing or anything complex like that. I am merely highlighting the change in the way we choose to experience music and how that has an impact upon its creation and presentation. So like Anne Elk, presenting her theory on the Brontosaurus, here is the axiom at the heart of this post.
Allonsanfàn (1974) is an Italian historical drama film written and directed by Paolo and Vittorio Taviani. The title of the film derives from the first words of the French Revolutionary anthem La Marseillaise (Allons enfants, IE “Arise, children”). It is also the name of a character in the story. Set against the backdrop of the Italian Unification in early 19th-century Italy, Marcello Mastroianni stars as an ageing revolutionary, Fulvio Imbriani, who becomes disillusioned after the Restoration and endeavours to betray his companions, who are organising an insurrection in Southern Italy. Allonsanfàn is a complex film that is not immediately accessible to those unfamiliar with the intricacies of Italian political history nor the arthouse style of the Taviani brothers. However, it is visually arresting and features a rousing score by Ennio Morricone.
Jerry Goldsmith’s contribution to Star Trek is immense. Yet simply listing the films and TV episodes he wrote music for does not adequately encapsulate the significance of his contribution to the franchise. His majestic, thoughtful and uplifting musical scores provide an emotional foundation that reflects the core ethos of Star Trek. They also create an invaluable sense of continuity that spans multiple shows and movies. Perhaps the most obvious example of this is his iconic title music for Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979) that was subsequently adopted as the theme tune for Star Trek: The Next Generation. His work was held in such high regard, when Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989) ran into production issues, it was thought that a Jerry Goldsmith soundtrack may well elevate the film. Sadly it didn’t but his work on that instalment was outstanding and among his best.
Halloween (1978) is both a genre and cinematic milestone. It made stars of Jamie Lee Curtis and director John Carpenter as well as kickstarting the slasher genre that dominated the box office for the next 15 years. Unlike many of the inferior imitations that followed in its wake, Halloween is not a gorefest but a far more suspenseful and unsettling film. It’s shocks and sinister atmosphere are the result of sumptuous panavision cinematography by Dean Cundey and inventive editing by Tommy Wallace and Charles Bornstein. Another invaluable asset to the film’s effectiveness is John Carpenter minimalistic synth and piano score which perfectly embellishes the film with an air of menace. After 33 years and various re-arrangements in subsequent sequels, the original Halloween Theme is still as effective today as it was when the film was first released.
Tenebrae (1982) is probably Dario Argento’s most accessible “giallo” for mainstream audiences. Although violent, it is not as narratively complex as Deep Red (1975) or as bat shit crazy as Phenomena (1985). The story centres on popular American novelist Peter Neal (Anthony Fanciosa) who is in Rome to promote his latest book. Events take a turn for the worst when a series of murders appear to have been inspired by his work. The plot twists and turns, the director explores themes such as dualism along with sexual aberration and blood is copiously spattered across the white walled interiors of modernist buildings. It is slick, disturbing and has a pounding synth and rock score by former Goblin members, Claudio Simonetti, Fabio Pignatelli, and Massimo Morante.
An American Werewolf in London is a genre milestone and one of the few horror films that successfully manages to balance humour and suspense without mitigating the overall tone of the story. 40 years on from its theatrical release it still holds up well with its bitter sweet love story, tragic themes and ground breaking transformation effects by Rick Baker. Director John Landis never really bettered this concise and effective genre outing. It hits the mark in virtually every part of the production. However, there is one aspect of the film that does suffer as a result of the director’s personal choices. Whether it is to the detriment of the overall film is debatable. The point in question is the film’s soundtrack and the director’s focus upon the song Blue Moon by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart.
Before we start, no I am not writing about Alexander Courage’s classic main theme for the original Star Trek show. I can add nothing further to that particular discussion and it remains iconic and inspiring, even when distilled down to just the initial fanfare. In this post I want to draw your attention to another piece of music from Star Trek that has permeated its way into popular culture. A cue that when heard, if the listener is familiar with its provenance, will instantly conjure up images of flying drop kicks, ear claps and judo chops. A piece of music that can be added to pretty much any video footage and instantly make it more heroic. Yes, I am talking about what has become generically known as Star Trek “fight music”. Or more specifically, the "The Ancient Battle/2nd Kroykah" cue from Amok Time (S02E01) composed by Gerald Fried. The scene during the koon-ut-kal-if-fee ritual in which Spock fights Kirk on the planet Vulcan for complicated “reasons”.
Classical music has often been used to great effect in cinema since the advent of sound. It has certain advantages over bespoke compositions, in that it can imbue a scene with a sense of gravitas and emotionally connect with viewers who may already be familiar with the piece being played. Legendary director Stanley Kubrick famously rejected Alex North’s score for 2001: A space Odyssey after finding the classical tracks he used for the temporary soundtrack complement the visuals perfectly. Over the years, some particular pieces of classical music have proven to be very popular and flexible, thus appearing in a wide variety of films across multiple genres. Hence, I have chosen two well known tracks that demonstrate this. I would also like to highlight contemporary classical music and have also selected one example that I feel demonstrates how the genre sublimely compliments cinema.
If you mention The Pink Panther (1963) I’d hazard a guess that most people will instantly think of Inspector Clouseau (and possibly throw in a quote in faux French about “Minkeys”) or hum or whistle the iconic theme tune. It’s blend of cool sixties Jazz and Lounge is both classy and evocative. Henry Mancini’s contribution to the Pink Panther franchise is commensurate to that of Peter Sellers and Blake Edwards. If you removed his musical scores from any of the films they would be greatly diminished. In fact one can argue that the movies made in the eighties after Sellers’ death are greatly bolstered by Mancini’s intelligent and accomplished musical accompaniment. The franchise may have run out of steam but Mancini never did so.
Back in August 2018, I posted seven of my favourite tracks from various video games that I’ve played over the years. I thought recently that it was high time that I did the same again. So here are a further five musical cues that I especially enjoy. All of which contribute greatly to the respective games that they feature in. Unlike film composers, musicians that write for video games do not always enjoy comparable exposure or attention. Yet often they have a more complex remit, having to write material for dozens of hours of content, rather than just two or three. Furthermore, the complete soundtrack to many video games often remain conspicuously absent, with fans having to data mine the game client to find the tracks that they love. Which is why it is important for those that enjoy video game music to show their support. Perhaps then more publishers will release full and comprehensive game soundtracks for digital download.
It was Friday the 13th yesterday, so I thought it was about time that I added Harry Manfredini’s iconic score to the annals of Classic Movie Themes. The 1980 slasher movie Friday the 13th has become as legendary in the pantheon of cinematic horror history as John Carpenter’s Halloween. Although there are marked differences between these two films, both use minimalist musical scores extremely effectively to punctuate the proceedings and embellish the overall atmosphere. However, Manfedini did not want to provide viewers with obvious audio cues during scenes of building tension. He preferred to focus his score upon the activities of the franchise's iconic killer, Jason Voorhees, and hence have strong musical cues when he was on screen. This approach meant that he had to use a unique musical motif to denote potential tension, without diminishing its effect on the audience by excessive use of obvious and melodramatic cues.
Game of Death was Bruce Lee’s fourth Hong Kong martial arts movie. Due to the success of his previous films he found himself in a position where he could finally write and direct a project himself. Filmed in late 1972 and early 1973, the film was put on hold midway through production when Hollywood offered him a starring role in Enter the Dragon. He died shortly after completing the US backed movie that made him an international star, so Game of Death remained unfinished. Several years later the rights to the raw footage were sold and recycled for a new movie, that kept the name but bore little resemblance to Lee’s original vision. For most of Game of Death, Kim Tai-jong and Yuen Biao double for Bruce Lee and it is only in the final act that audiences actually get to see about 12 minutes of material that he shot himself. The 1978 release of Game of Death, directed by Robert Clouse, is a mess but remains a cinematic curiosity. The scenes which genuinely feature Bruce Lee are outstanding, even in an abridged form.
The Long Good Friday not only launched then career of Bob Hoskins but remains a uniquely British take on the gangster genre. Featuring authentic performances and a credible plot, the screenplay touches upon many of the social and political issues of the time; police corruption, the IRA, urban renewal and the decline of industry, along with EEC membership and the free-market economy. It’s a gritty and unrelenting drama that is still relevant today. Furthermore, the film is filled with quotable dialogue and has several stand out scenes that showcase Bob Hoskins’ smouldering performance. It’s also offers of “who’s who” of British character actors and there is one sequence still has the power to shock even today.
A few years ago, I wrote a post about cult movie soundtracks and how many of these movies are often blessed with a high quality score from an established composer. The subject came up again recently when I was visiting the British Film Institute with friends, and several other examples were discussed. Hence, I thought it would be prudent to write a follow up post with another selection of material, as it continues to amaze me how often the most appalling films can still have outstanding soundtracks. With this idea in mind I've collated five films that are for various reasons are labelled “cult” and have suffered the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” over the years. All have scores of interests and note, though for different reasons. I have chosen a track from each soundtrack which I think highlights the musical excellence and integrity of the composers involved. The genres are varied as are the musical styles and nuances of each piece. All clearly demonstrate how a well-conceived score can embellish and enhance a movie, effectively becoming a character in its own right.
Lords of the Fallen is an action role-playing game from 2014, played from a third-person perspective. It is broadly in the same idiom to Darksiders and Dark Souls with the emphasis on complex and challenging combat. And it is for that reason that I didn’t get on with this title when I bought it in a Steam sale a few years ago. I felt that the long, protracted fights were an impediment to the narrative, which I quite enjoyed. However, the game was designed this way to appeal to the combat focused gamer and “git gud” culture. But I think that it’s important to try different genres of games from time to time and to step occasionally out of your comfort zone. I would cite the Hand of Fate series as a positive example of this. Both of those titles are from a genre I wouldn’t usually consider and playing them turned out to be a very positive experience
Alien is a unique genre milestone. It challenged the established aesthetic created by 2001: A Space Odyssey of space travel being pristine, clinical and high tech and replaced it with a grimy, industrial quality. The space tug Nostromo is also a conspicuously “blue collar”, civilian venture, underwritten by a large corporation. As for H. R Giger’s xenomorph, it redefined the depiction of extraterrestrial life in movies. Director Ridley Scott brought visual style and atmosphere to particularly unglamorous and dismal setting. He also scared the hell out of audiences at the time with his slow burn story structure and editing style that hints, rather than shows. Overall, Alien is a text book example of how to make a horror movie and put a new spin on a classic and well-trodden concept.
James Horner was a prolific, yet consistently good composer with a broad range of styles. Consider his score for 48 Hrs with its Jazz under currents and then compare it to his grand swashbuckling approach to Krull. They are radically different soundtracks, but both are extremely effective in embellishing their respective motion pictures. That was James Horner great talent. He knew when to be theatrical and bombastic but could also dial it back and be subtle, gentle and delicate. It made his body of work very diverse and memorable.
James Horner, although possessing a very broad and eclectic musical range, was in many respects a very traditional composer. He was certainly au fait with works of such giants as Miklós Rózsa, Korngold and Bernard Herrmann and it often manifested itself in his music through his use of the leitmotif. Perhaps the reason James Horner was so consistently good and crafted so many outstanding pieces of music, is because he never saw his profession as just a means to an end. As he said in an interview once, “I don’t look at this as just a job. I see music as art”.
Star Trek: Enterprise was the first show in the Star Trek pantheon to have a song performed by an established artist play over the opening credits, rather than a traditional theme tune. Up until 2001, the franchise had maintained a more formal approach, established with the iconic introduction to the original series composed by Alexander Courage. Needless to say, such a radical departure from established practise brought about consternation and debate among fans. In some respects, you can argue that point about the entire show itself, but that as they say, is an entirely different blog post. Needless to say, the dislike and hatred that the song Where My Heart Will Take Me engendered in certain quarters, lead to a petition to have it removed. Needless to say, this movement failed, and the show continued using it for four seasons. Seventeen years on this particular debacle has now died down and the song is often just referenced ironically by fans as an amusing anecdote and piece of Trek trivia.
According to Wikipedia “Hawk the Slayer is a 1980 British sword and sorcery adventure film directed by Terry Marcel and starring John Terry and Jack Palance. The film has developed a cult following”. That doesn’t do the movie justice by any reckoning. Hawk the Slayer is a quirky, low budget, high camp fantasy movie that compensates for its budgetary shortcoming by being so preposterously silly. It is loaded with hard boiled, fantasy steeped dialogue that parodies well known genre tropes. It treads a fine line between utter bilge and stupid fun. It is very much a product of its time and is also filled with British character actors. Some viewers will see nothing more than a cheap and cheerful cash-in on the eighties Sword and Sorcery boom. Others will delight at this inventive, stylised and silly fantasy orientated outing. Such is the nature of cult movies.
Film producer Julian Blaustein had a long-standing desire to make a film that addressed the fears and concerns of the post war Atomic Age. With the backing from Fox Studio Executive Darryl F. Zanuck, he hired screenwriter Edmund North to adapt the short story Farewell to the Master by Harry Bates. The screenplay provided a moral commentary about the ongoing arms race and featured an alien visitor with Christ like qualities who delivers an apocalyptic message. Veteran director Robert Wise was brought in head the project and a fine cast of established characters actors such as Michael Rennie, Patricia Neal Hugh Marlowe and Sam Jaffe was assembled. The finished movie has proven to be one of the greatest science fiction movies ever; it is The Day the Earth Stood Still made in 1951.
King Solomon’s Mines is a 1985 Cannon Films production based on the pulp works of H. Rider Haggard. It was quickly made to cash in on the ongoing success of Indiana Jones franchise, although the finished movie bears little resemblance to the classic original novel. Like most Cannon movies from that boom era, it was a cheap and fast enterprise that superficially sported a good cast, but ultimately didn’t do much with them. Veteran director J. Lee Thompson favoured a light and comic approach to the material, as the film’s budget could hardly sustain any major notable set pieces. Yet, it proved popular enough at the box office to warrant a sequel the following year. Allan Quatermain and the Lost City of Gold proved to be as equally silly but by then the public’s interest had waned.
A ten months ago, I wrote about the LOTRO soundtrack and listed some of my favourite tracks. This time round rather than just limit myself to music from one game, I thought it may be more interesting to broaden the remit. So, I have decided to upload seven of my favourite tracks and music cues from various games I have played over the last two decades. As with cinema, the soundtrack of a game plays a very important role. It can make a substantial impact on the players perceptions and enjoyment. The following tracks are examples that I feel have greatly enhanced a game. They’re also ones that I find particularly enjoyable. They are not in any order of preference.
Paul Verhoeven has seldom made a movie without some semblance of controversy associated with it, and his 1992 neo-noir Basic Instinct was no different. Even before its US release, Basic Instinct courted controversy due over its overt sexuality and graphic depiction of violence. It was strongly opposed by gay rights activists, who criticised the film's depiction of homosexual relationships and the portrayal of a bisexual woman as a homocidal narcissistic psychopath. The opening murder with an icepick is still shocking twenty six years later and is an excellent showcase for makeup FX artists Rob Bottin.
You can write pages on Gerry Anderson's 1968 Supermarionation series Joe 90. There's the morally ambiguous premise of giving an emotionally immature nine-year-old the experiences of an adult. Then the psychological effects of allowing him to kill at will. Then there's the perennial issue of scientists prostituting their skills to the intelligence community. One can also reflect upon the absence of any major female characters in the series and how that may impact upon Joe himself. Finally, when one finally arrives she's a gold-digging bitch who tries to exploit Joe’s Dad, Professor McClaine. Joe 90 is certainly a psychiatrist’s dream subject.
Despite the popularity of the TV show in 1965, the two spinoff Thunderbirds feature films were both box offices failures. This has often been attributed to the indifferently written screenplays that seem to have completely missed the sense of suspense that the fifty-minute episodes achieved. Both feature films feel rather slow and like extended episodes rather than big budget extravaganzas. They fail to do anything different with established characters and apart from showcasing more extensive miniature effects in a widescreen format, don’t really have much more to offer. It’s curious that the winning, character driven formula that worked on television was overlooked for these big screen outings.
I grew up during the seventies when network TV shows still put a lot of thought and effort into such things as their theme tune. It was a decade littered with memorable tracks that captured the essence of the shows they came from. Many have now become integral aspects of popular culture, leading to countless internet memes as well as becoming the ringtones of choice for many a fortysomething. However, things are very different now. You can have a staggeringly good theme for your show, but it can't possibly be longer than thirty seconds. And don’t think for a moment that viewers can listen to it again at the end, as it has now become standard practice to compress the credits into a third of the TV screen and preview what's coming next, while some link announcer spouts inanities. Mercifully, cable and streaming companies tend to treat their TV shows with greater respect. The lack of commercial advertising ensures a longer program duration and hence more focus on a theme tune. However, network TV still commands big audiences, yet hasn’t in recent years produced any TV show themes of note.
Prometheus (2012)
I have written many times in recent years about how big titles get announced by the gaming industry, of the ensuing hype up that leads up to launch day and then the subsequent disappointment on purchase. It is a malady that has afflicted the movie industry for decades and has become increasingly more common in the last decade. Hype has a curious link with reputation. There are a handful of directors in contemporary Hollywood who when they add their name to a production, people take notice. Ridley Scott is one of these. His body of work pretty much guarantees he can make whatever he wants, be it a commercial undertaking or a ludicrous vanity project. However, the downside to being a film maker of this stature is that you are not so easily exposed to proper scrutiny by your peers. No one stops you from making a mistake because you are supposed to know what you are doing. They let you do what you want. Which is bad.
I have written many times in recent years about how big titles get announced by the gaming industry, of the ensuing hype up that leads up to launch day and then the subsequent disappointment on purchase. It is a malady that has afflicted the movie industry for decades and has become increasingly more common in the last decade. Hype has a curious link with reputation. There are a handful of directors in contemporary Hollywood who when they add their name to a production, people take notice. Ridley Scott is one of these. His body of work pretty much guarantees he can make whatever he wants, be it a commercial undertaking or a ludicrous vanity project. However, the downside to being a film maker of this stature is that you are not so easily exposed to proper scrutiny by your peers. No one stops you from making a mistake because you are supposed to know what you are doing. They let you do what you want. Which is bad.
So, am I saying that Prometheus is a mistake per se? No. However, I am saying that mistakes have been made with regard to narrative and the plot direction of the movie. Scott himself has been open about how during the initial pre-production he and screenwriters Jon Spaihts and Damon Lindelof wished to take the story off on a tangent, rather than make a specific prequel to Alien. This in itself is not necessarily a bad thing to do as long as it is done robustly and intelligently. Prometheus is very much a film of two halves as it strives to embrace a weighty theme, namely the origins of life on earth. It sets the scene for a philosophical and theological exploration of the subject in the first act. However, it fails to sustain this momentum and in the second hour lapses into a far less ambitious, somewhat formulaic, creature feature. The narrative become confused, vague and is eventually sidelined.
There is still much to commend in Prometheus. There are good performances from the cast, despite the fact that they are not given half as much to go on as they should have. Michael Fassbender's portrayal of the Android David is outstanding and is by far the best character in the movie. The production design is handsome and Scott has not in any way lost his visual flair. There are some quite clever parallels to his original movie and he re-imagines certain iconic scenes in an inventive fashion, rather than becoming self plagiarising. There are also some solid action sequences and a liberal dose of gore. One scene involving a quasi-caesarian is not for the squeamish. Yet despite positive aspects one is left feeling that Prometheus is not as good as a film as it could be.
What is on offer is adequate and entertaining but no more than that. Although it is unreasonable to expect this movie to be equal of the 1979 original, it is not unreasonable to expect better material from Ridley Scott. Prometheus should have had a weightier story and stuck to either to its philosophical theme or remained a pure horror in space. As it is it fails to tread the path between the two. Since the release of the film on home media, the deleted scenes available on DVD and Blu-ray clearly show where the problem lies. Too much expositionary material was cut from the film. The producers wanted an action driven movie. They got one but sadly at the expense of narrative and character development. If all the deleted material was re-instated back in to Prometheus it would be a far more thoughtful, coherent movie. Sadly, Scott has now stated that the theatrical cut of the film is his definitive edition.
On a final note, Prometheus suffers from a common problem found in contemporary fill making; that of an excessively loud soundtrack. Dialogue is difficult to hear one moment and the score and ambient sound effects are deafening the next. I had to watch the film with subtitles enabled to fully pick up on all the nuances of the dialogue. This issue contributed to making a frustrating movie, somewhat more annoying. However, if you are simply looking for a high budget, science fiction thriller, then Prometheus, despite its flaws, may well satisfy. Those who are more invested in the Alien franchise may not be so forgiving and best prepare themselves for disappointment. Because Prometheus feels like a failed opportunity, it beggars the question, do we really need any further movies in this series? If they cannot offer anything new that takes the overall concept forward, perhaps the answer is no?
In 1968 the dilapidated freighter Corita hastily leaves Freetown to avoid a customs inspection. Captain Lansen (Eric Porter) has a cargo of dangerous explosives which he is smuggling so he can finally retire. His ship’s passengers also have reasons for leaving in a hurry. Dr. Webster (Nigel Stock), together with his daughter Unity (Suzanna leigh), is relocating due to his indiscretions with patients and illegal operations. Alcoholic pianist Harry Tyler (Tony Beckley) is aimlessly drifting from port to port. Eva Peters (Hildegard Knef) is fleeing from her husband with stolen bearer bonds which she intend to use to buy back her son from his evil clutches Caracas. Ricaldi (Ben Carruthers), a questionable lawyer, is pursuing Eva to retrieve the stolen bonds. First officer Hemmings (Neil McCallum) suggests that the ship should return to Freetown after an imminent Hurricane warning. The Captain asks the passengers and they are unanimous that they do not wish to return. However a mutinous crew, the bad weather and the instability of the explosives force everyone to abandon ship. The survivors find themselves adrift in a lifeboat surrounded by a strange carnivorous seaweed.
Despite being considered by many as an original story, The Abominable Snowman (1957) is in fact a remake of a made for television play, The Creature, that was originally broadcast in the UK in 1955. Hammer Films would often purchase the rights of popular TV programs and subsequently re-work them for mainstream, international cinema. Larger production budgets and fewer censorship restrictions allowed them to make their cinematic interpretations more lurid, thus commercially viable. Hence The Quatermass Xperiment, Quatermass II and Quatermass and the Pit were all given a big screen makeover and were commercially successful. The Abominable Snowman was written by acclaimed writer Nigel Kneale, who also wrote the original television drama and the aforementioned Quatermass trilogy. Although ostensibly marketed as a horror film this production is actually an interesting blend of psychological thriller and science fiction.
In the near future, Kepler 822, a research and drilling facility located at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, suffers a sudden and catastrophic structural failure. There are only six survivors. Mechanical engineer Norah Price (Kristen Stewart), Captain Lucien (Vincent Cassel), biologist Emily Haversham (Jessica Henwick), engineer Liam Smith (John Gallagher Jr.) and crew members Rodrigo (Mamoudou Athie) and Paul (T.J. Miller). As all the functional escape pods have been used and they are unable to contact the surface, the Captain suggests using pressurized suits to walk one mile across the ocean floor to the Roebuck 641 drill installation. There they will find more escape pods. However, it soon becomes apparent that the disaster was not caused by an undersea earthquake and that they are not alone as they make their journey.
One of the most common objections raised regarding the Jurassic Park/Jurassic World franchise is that the films are specifically made to obtain a PG-13 rating from the Motion Picture Association, for purely commercial reasons. Hence, in all films, there is little on screen violence and the dinosaurs are mainly portrayed as a threat and a means of providing jump scares. When a character is killed by a dinosaur it usually happens off screen, is obscured by something else in frame, or is shown in long shot with very little detail. The realities of being eaten alive by a predator are conspicuously absent. Hence, audiences looking for films featuring more graphic dinosaur attacks, have not been well catered for apart from some minor direct-to-video titles. Primitive War finally fills this gap in the market with a frenetic genre mashup that strives to punch above is budgetary weight.
Fluke is a curious film about a man who is reincarnated as a dog and his subsequent realisation that he may have been murdered. It takes an adult novel by British author James Herbert, which is filled with philosophical musing and strives to adapt it in a far more family friendly fashion. The result is a somewhat bipolar production which thematically alternates between existential introspection and Buddhism. It then strives to deliver its message in a Disneyesque idiom. Children will potentially be confused and upset by what they see and adults will be wrongfooted by the continual shift in tone. Fluke was not a critical or commercial success upon release and the flaws that were identified by critics at the time still ring true today. That being said, Fluke is still an interesting and entertaining film, despite its faults.
When reviewing Sting, one critic stated that the small scale setting and thus, low stakes (IE only a few peoples lives are at risk), made the film not especially memorable. I consider this to be a somewhat spurious criticism. It is the very fact that Sting takes place in such a commonplace environment, with the main characters being everyday people that makes it different. There is a clear focus on well defined characters and their backstory. Unlike so many contemporary films, I actually gave a damn about the protagonists in Sting. An integral aspect of the horror genre is the ability to take a well known and familiar trope and provide a different and absorbing spin on it .It would appear that some audiences have been belaboured over the head by so many overblown and bombastic blockbusters, that the very notion of depicting small, localised and intimate events in a film, seems to bamboozle them.
When I first saw Mimic in 1997, I was impressed by the fact that it offered a different perspective on the monster movie genre and that it seemed to have moments of greater depth than you'd expect from such material. Later on when I became more aware of the works of writer, director Guillermo del Toro, I learned that this movie had had a troubled production and that Miramx had imposed specific requirements upon the final cut of the film. This explained some of the movies inconsistencies and hinted at a far more ambitious artistic endeavour by del Toro. Initially Mimic was conceived as a thirty minute short and part of a three part anthology movie. However it along with the sci-fi film Imposter were both deemed to be of sufficient merit to be developed into feature length productions.
During the seventies, Hollywood started looking to ongoing societal and political concerns as a source of material for movies. Hence, the energy crisis, terrorism and global pollution quickly found themselves being subsumed into hastily written screenplays, in attempt to be topical, commercially successful and relevant. Prophecy based upon a novel by David Seltzer tackled not only the issue of pollution but also the ongoing disenfranchisement of Native Americans. Paramount studios went so far as hiring an established director of note, John Frankenheimer. In many respects this movie should have been a bigger success with a reasonable budget, robust cast and studio support. Sadly it did not fare well, either critically or at the box office due to obvious flaws in the production. Despite his outstanding body work, (Birdman of Alcatraz, The Manchurian Candidate) Frankenheimer was not the best choice of director for a genre movie such as this and he was also going through a period of alcoholism.
In Agua Dulce, California, the Haywood family trains horses for film and TV productions. One day at the Haywood ranch, small metal objects unaccountably fall from the sky. One of which, a nickel, kills Otis Haywood Sr (Keith David). His children, Emerald “Em” Haywood (Keke Palmer) and Otis “OJ” Haywood Jr. (Daniel Kaluuya), continue to run the business. However, due to the loss of a contract, they have to sell some of the horses to Ricky “Jupe” Park (Steven Yeun), who operates a Western theme park called Jupiter's Claim. One night, the Haywood’s notice the electricity supply fluctuating and their horses violently reacting to an unknown presence. They discover that something has been taking their horses and regurgitating inorganic matter, which OJ believes caused their father's death. The Haywood’s decide to obtain proof and subsequently ask electronics store employee and UFO enthusiast, Angel Torres (Brandon Perea) to set up surveillance cameras.
Back in 2018 I wrote the following about The Meg in my review. “My interest doesn’t go so far as a sequel. This sort of movie is the equivalent of a greasy burger you buy at the funfair. It’s fine once in a while as an indulgence, despite the fact that you know it’s bad, but you would soon tire of them being a regular part of my diet”. Five years later, I foolishly thought it may be “fun” to give the sequel, Meg 2: The Trench (2023), a go. Especially in light of the fact that it’s directed by Ben Wheatley. Surely such a filmmaker would bring some creativity and a fresh perspective to this franchise? Nope. Turns out he didn’t. Meg 2: The Trench lacks everything that made its predecessor tolerable. This superfluous sequel is an uninspired, poorly written mess which confuses turning everything up to eleven with entertainment. It gets nowhere near “it’s so bad, it’s good” territory. Instead it makes the biggest mistake a film of this nature can do. It’s dull.
Not to be confused with the Shaw Brothers martial arts film of the same name from 1978, The Deadly Mantis (1957) is a creature feature in the idiom of Them! (1954). Unlike that film’s mutant ants, the monster on this occasion is not the product of the atomic age but a giant prehistoric praying mantis that has been released from the polar ice caps. Exactly how a creature associated with more tropical regions came to be at the North Pole is never explained. In fact precious little is in The Deadly Mantis. The film’s overall scope is somewhat limited with a basic story, limited action scenes and a rather dull cast of generic characters. There is an over reliance upon stock footage from period military documentaries and previous Universal Studio feature films. The film’s biggest failing is the giant praying mantis which does most of its rampaging conveniently off camera. It’s all rather disappointing.
It is no secret that the film industry relies on a handful of common tropes as the mainstay of their cinematic output. It uses timeless themes, storylines and archetypes that have featured in folk tales, plays and literature throughout history. Hence their familiarity with audiences around the world. Where the skill in filmmaking lies is to take a common, well known idea and interpret it in a new and innovative fashion. Akira Kurosawa took Shakespeare’s MacBeth and retold the tale through the prism of Japanese feudalistic culture. The result, Throne of Blood, is considered a masterpiece. Similarly, The Lion King retells the same story through the medium of animation and anthropomorphic wildlife. All of which proves that the key to successfully retelling a familiar tale is to be creative with regard to setting, presentation and perspective.
Jurassic World Dominion is a textbook example of a franchise that has run out of steam. Despite the enormous budget, the top notch production values and the presence of three members of the original cast, this is a long, tedious and curiously uneventful film. It has nothing new to say about environmental matters or unfettered science; themes that were front and centre in previous instalments. Nor does it do anything interesting with the main plot device of dinosaurs trying to integrate into our current ecosystems. But perhaps its biggest failing is the conspicuous lack of tension. The denizens of Jurassic World are simply not a threat and fail to have any emotional impact. The film doesn’t even placate viewers with superfluous cast members being eaten. The onscreen deaths by dinosaurs are rather tame.
Set in Brazil in 1901, plantation owner Christopher Leiningen (Charlton Heston) makes arrangements to get married. He has spent his entire life building his estate and reclaiming land from the jungle. He is fiercely independent but he is also alone and isolated. Joanna Selby (Eleanor Parker) from New Orleans agrees to marry him but their first meeting does not go well. Leiningen is unhappy to discover that Joanna is a widow and hence has a past, so he tells her to return to America on the next available boat. However, local commissioner (William Conrad) informs Leiningen that swarming soldier ants, or Marabunta, are moving towards his plantation destroying everything in their path. Leiningen refuses to abandon his life’s work and is surprised when Joanna decides to stay with him. Can they convince their native workers to stay too and can they defend the estate from the Marabunta, described as “forty square miles of agonising death”.
After the critical and commercial success of Jaws in 1975, a veritable tsunami of “creature feature” movies followed in its wake. A few titles, such as Alligator (1980) and Piranha (1978) managed to do something different with the rogue animal trope, both providing a quirky and satirical look at the genre along with plenty of exploitation mayhem. However, most of the rest were low budget productions of negligible quality. However, such qualities are not always an impediment at the box office. Grizzly (1976) was hastily made on a budget of $750,000 yet earned an impressive $39,000,000 at the box office. The critics hated it but the public loved it and it went on to be the second most financially successful independent feature film in the US that year (the first being Monty Python and the Holy Grail). Grizzly is in many ways a microcosm of the exploitation genre from the seventies and needs to be viewed through that prism if it is to be enjoyed.
The seventies saw a minor boom in creature feature films after the box office success of Jaws. Hence, we had movies such as Orca (1977), Tentacles (1977), The Pack (1977) and Piranha (1978). If an animal could eat you or potentially pose any threat to people, someone somewhere would make a movie about it. Usually a bad one. A few of these even dared to stray into other hot topics of the time such as pollution and protecting the environment. Some would even invoke mysticism and folk lore to facilitate their protagonists. Nightwing is one such curious genre hybrid which combines vampire bats, shale oil mining and Native American culture in its clumsy and unsubtle plot. It’s a somewhat odd undertaking, directed by Arthur Hiller. His previous work included Love Story (1970) and Silver Streak (1976), so he was not the first person you’d expect to see associated with such material. The film doesn’t work well as either a horror movie or an exploration of social issues, but like so many movies from this era, it is of interest mainly due to its sheer incongruity.
If you have seen any of the marketing material or trailers for The Meg, then you know exactly what you’re getting right from the get-go. All movies inherently require the viewer to suspend their sense of disbelief to various degrees. Naturally, the “creature feature” genre asks audience to go the extra mile with this concept. The Meg takes a major gamble by insisting that everyone goes further still, not by believing in a giant prehistoric shark (Megalodon) but that Jason Statham is a ex-navy, deep sea rescue diver. However, it pays off and the resulting movie is staggeringly stupid, but mercifully entertaining in an undemanding way. Recent movies such as Into the Storm and Geostorm are crass and made worse by their implicit assumption that their viewers are stupid. The Meg is far from cerebral but has an upbeat tone and a sense of playfulness that knowingly invites the audience to come aboard with the silliness. It’s a big distinction and the reason why I smiled a lot and frequently rolled my eyes while watching The Meg, but never with derision.
Critical opinion was very much split this summer when Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom was released. However, the viewers were somewhat indifferent to the opinions of the professional critics and the movie made a healthy $1,303,476,615 globally, proving once again that the public’s’ continuing love affair with “all things dinosaur” shows no sign of abating. When you factor in the home media market into overall profits, the entire Jurassic Park franchise will have made $5 billion worldwide. So, bearing in mind the old adage that “money talks and bullshit walks”, I think it’s safe to say there’ll be more instalments in the years to come. When faced with such overwhelming box office popularity it seems somewhat pointless to dissect the latest movie, because the film seems to be bullet proof regardless of narrative flaws or ill-conceived plot devices. However, film criticism isn’t about box office popularity but about analysing the relative quality of a movie’s construction and its subsequent standing.
I first saw The Land That Time Forgot way back in 1975 at the Odeon Isle of Wight, when it was first released. We were on holiday at the time, which was cause for celebration in itself, as these were few and far between during my youth, due to the state of the UK economy at the time. But to then go to the cinema and see a fantasy film, filled with action, adventure and monsters, was the icing on the cake for an over excited eight-year-old. Adapted by Michael Moorcock and James Cawthorn from the 1924 the novel by Edgar Rice Burroughs, The Land That Time Forgot is a classic example of high adventure on a low budget. Its technical shortcomings were even apparent to me as a child, yet there was a charm and honesty to this curious British production, that had the audacity to try and compete with the likes of more expensive US productions such as The Golden Voyage of Sinbad and Island at the Top of the World.
Black Sheep is a high concept horror comedy from New Zealand. Featuring creative physical effects by Weta Workshop, this tale of genetically modified killer sheep, animal husbandry and environmentalism requires a very broad sense of humour and an abiding love for the “creature feature” sub-genre. It should be noted that the copy I watched was the unrated R1 DVD. This version is stronger in content than the R rated US theatrical release and yet was released at the UK cinemas with only a 15 rating from the BBFC. I suspect that the similarities in humour between the UK and New Zealand contributed to this somewhat low rating. That and the fact that horror comedy often gets a free pass because the humour always tends to mitigate the violence.
Frank Darabont achieved both critical acclaim and mass appeal with his adaptations of The Shawshank Redemption and The Green Mile. In 2007 he returned once again to the work of Stephen King with his film version of The Mist. It’s a sideways step away from human drama into a more genre piece, yet it still retains a very traditional story at its heart. Once you look beyond the superficial elements of "creature feature" plot, you get yet another well written character study by an ensemble cast, again focusing on how the human condition deals with extreme situations. The particular route it takes and some of the themes it explores may not be to everyone's taste. However, it still focuses on characters and performances. It is also a movie that ends with a somewhat unexpected plot development, that some viewers may find a little extreme. It is one of those film related twists that if known in advance, greatly diminishes once enjoyment of the film.
When you see the names of such cinematic luminaries as Steven Spielberg and J.J. Abrams together on the same movie poster, naturally your expectations are going to be high. Yet when watching the various trailers for Super 8, just prior to its release in 2011, I was somewhat cautious. I have discussed in the past at some length the ambiguous nature of trailers and that they can misrepresent a film. Yet even bearing this in mind at the time, I couldn’t help but feel that Super 8 seemed like a somewhat self-indulgent homage to Spielberg's earlier work. I subsequently saw the movie at the cinema in August that year and my suspicions were validated. However, over time I have spoken to several friends who are advocates of the movie, so I thought I’d watch it a second time. Sadly, I still find myself unable to label Super 8 as anything else other than adequate. Now I would hasten to add, that I use adequate within the context of both director’s body of work. An adequate film from either Mr Spielberg or Abrams is still superior to many of their competitors. But that's not the point. I simply expected better from such a project.
Having recently sat through Orcs! I decided to take a further chance and watch Orc Wars. It too is a very low budget film, although this time the finances were raised through crowdfunding. Sadly, it is not the fun, tongue in cheek, independent adventure movie the trailer and associated marketing implies. There is very little merit in this production. It's cheap, cheerful and although harmless, it clearly demonstrates that not all fan funded projects are good cinema. Some are just indulgences. The problem is in the title itself, which tries to sell an idea that the movie production is incapable of delivering. Instead of the spectacle of an army of a thousand Orcs pitted against the technological might of the US war machine, we get a few extras in ill-fitting costumes, running skirmishes against no-name actors on quad bikes and a few old Army Surplus vehicles. It's all rather lacklustre and underwhelming.
As a fan of the horror genre I’ve sat through numerous low budget films in my time. This has usually been at festivals or conventions. Sometimes watching something as part of a group, with likeminded individuals, makes a difference. You find yourself groaning in unison and the shared experience helps compensate for potential deficiencies. Watching questionable material in the comfort of your own home, purely on your own can be a lot tougher. However, due to my abiding love of the genre, I am prepared to cut a lot of cheap ass indie flicks considerably more slack than I would others. So, I'll endeavour to review Orcs! with as much impartiality as possible. Oh, and before we start, let us clarify the term Orcs. Although Middle-earth is not referenced in any way, this film is definitely about Tolkien's creations. Or at least their depiction in another well-known series of films.
10 Cloverfield Lane blends several cinematic genres producing an interesting premise. Once it has established its narrative arc, it then dives head long into an exciting and tense one hundred and four minutes. The movie is not a direct sequel to Cloverfield (2008) but does touch upon some of the same themes and ideas. Made on a modest budget of $15 million, the claustrophobic setting of a nuclear bunker accommodates strong performances from the lead actors. It is not until the third act when the story movies back to the outside world, do we see any major visual effects. Overall, this is a very compelling film due to the strong screenplay and well defined central characters.
I did my best to avoid the hype surrounding the initial release of Cloverfield. Such media saturation and public interest can often cloud the issue of whether the actual film is any good. Five years later and having watched the movie twice, once in the theatre and once at home, I am still somewhat conflicted about this movie. The use of hand held video cameras is both a boon and a bane. The constant movement of the image has proven to cause motion sickness for some viewers, although this is not so overwhelming when viewed on a smaller screen at home. Yet the medium of news footage mixed with handheld cameras does create a palpable sense of immediacy. This helps immensely when trying to sell a fantastic concept, such as the one that Cloverfield features.
The enigma of the Xenomorph in the Alien franchise is diminished once you start to rationalise its heritage. Sadly, that’s exactly what Alien: Covenant has chosen to do. It jettisons the mystery of the original 1979 movie and pulls back the curtain, so wisely put in place thirty-eight years ago, to reveal a rather lacklustre explanation to the Xenomorph’s origin. Having spent nearly $100 million and employed a production team of some of the finest talent that money can buy, the resulting movie is not bad per se, just crushingly superfluous. After watching Alien: Covenant this week, my overall reaction can be distilled down to a deep sigh of indifference and a shrug of the shoulders.
I have written many times in recent years about how big titles get announced by the gaming industry, of the ensuing hype up that leads up to launch day and then the subsequent disappointment on purchase. It is a malady that has afflicted the movie industry for decades and has become increasingly more common in the last decade. Hype has a curious link with reputation. There are a handful of directors in contemporary Hollywood who when they add their name to a production, people take notice. Ridley Scott is one of these. His body of work pretty much guarantees he can make whatever he wants, be it a commercial undertaking or a ludicrous vanity project. However, the downside to being a film maker of this stature is that you are not so easily exposed to proper scrutiny by your peers. No one stops you from making a mistake because you are supposed to know what you are doing. They let you do what you want. Which is bad.
The Planet of the Apes movie franchise took a radical change of course with its third entry in the series. The first two films were set in the future and benefited from high production values to help realise a post apocalyptic earth. However, due to a substantial reduction of budget, Escape from the Planet of the Apes uses a time travel plot device to bring the ape protagonists to present day Los Angeles (1971 in this case). The result is a film with a much smaller narrative scope. However, although it lacks the science fiction spectacle of its predecessors, it features an interesting satirical exploration of celebrity culture and ponders what it is like to be deemed an enemy of the state. As ever, Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter provide exceptional lead performances as the Chimpanzees Cornelius and Zira. Escape from the Planet of the Apes also captures the pop culture vibe of seventies America.