Underwater (2020)
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.
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.
Underwater starts with all the hallmarks of a film that is very derivative of Alien. The technology and immediate environment all have an industrial aesthetic that is worn and feels used. The crew is made up of “working men” rather than clean cut academics and the corporation that owns and runs the facility is simply referenced by branding on bulkheads or on monitor lockscreens. The screenplay by Brian Duffield (No One Will Save You) and Adam Cozad is lean and moves quickly but there’s sufficient dialogue to get the measure of each character. The threat comes quickly during the film’s concise 95 minute running time and it is here that Underwater diverges from similar films. DeepStar Six featured a prehistoric Eurypterid and Leviathan had monsters caused by mutagens containing piscine DNA. Underwater has a distinctly Lovecraftian nemesis.
Director William Eubank maintains a tense and claustrophobic atmosphere. Due to the seven mile depth, there is no sunlight and the ocean floor is illuminated by the lights on the crew’s environment suits and from LEDs on equipment. Hence, for the first two acts the aquatic menace is seen only fleetingly and the shocks come mainly from jump scares. The death scenes are hectically edited and you certainly get the impression that something unpleasant has happened but you cannot see the detail. Although initially frustrating this becomes the film’s greatest strength as it becomes clear this is not just a case of an apex predator. The crew do a little theorising about what is happening around them but it is left vague and there are no convenient answers. The climax and final reveal work better as a result of this approach.
Underwater is an effective genre outing. It isn’t a masterpiece and certainly isn’t original. It takes some standard tropes from “creature features” and horror films and it tries its best to do something a little different with them. The $60 million budget covers a lot of ground, with the sets, production design and VFXs looking polished and plausible. The cast is competent and the characters likeable. Marco Beltrami’s score at times has shades of vintage John Carpenter and Alan Howarth. But it is the film’s final act that is responsible for making Underwater better than average. Casual viewers may not necessarily get the inference but those who are aware of the concept of cosmic horror should enjoy the eldritch payoff. Underwater is a well crafted rollercoaster ride, that doesn’t out stay its welcome and should be judged as such.
Primitive War (2025)
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.
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.
In 1968 during the Vietnam War, Colonel Jericho (Jeremy Piven) orders Vulture Squad, a reconnaissance unit, to track down a Green Beret platoon that has gone missing on a classified mission. Sergeant First Class Ryan Baker (Ryan Kwanten) is concerned about the secrecy surrounding the mission and well being of his squad. After being dropped by helicopter in a remote region of the jungle the squad finds evidence of a firefight along with a large bird-like foot print. Upon searching a tunnel complex they are attacked by a pack of Deinonychus and are split up. Baker along with new squad member Verne (Carlos Sanson) are rescued from a Tyrannosaurus attack by a Soviet paleontologist, Sofia Wagner (Tricia Helfer), who shelters them in a nearby bunker. He learns that a Russian General has been experimenting with a particle collider, resulting in wormholes and the dinosaurs’ presence.
Primitive War takes the standard genre tropes found in Vietnam War movies, along with those common to “creature features” and mixes them together with B movie aplomb and the candid honesty inherent in Australian exploitation cinema. The result is fast paced, violent and thoroughly entertaining. The computer generated dinosaurs and animatronics are broadly good and when it does start to get a bit sketchy, it’s not a deal breaker because it is clear that the production is really trying hard to do it best with what its budget. Furthermore, rather than just resting on its high concept, exploitation laurels, Primitive War even takes a stab at focusing on characters and getting audiences emotionally invested in the protagonists. You could argue that it tries a little too hard but the film is ambitious and that is a praiseworthy quality these days because so many film productions do exactly the opposite.
Based on books by Ethan Pettus, who co-wrote the screenplay with director Luke Sparke, Primitive War strikes the right tone with its hard boiled, military dialogue and hyperbolic kiss-off lines. I especially enjoyed “Come get some, you Foghorn Leghorn motherfuckers”. The cast, who are mainly from television, acquit themselves well and the screenplay endeavours to give this dirty half-dozen some back story, touching upon such themes as PTSD and survivors guilt. The set pieces are violent and the dinosaur attacks show the reality of being devoured alive. Considering the $8 million dollar budget, the visual effects hold up well. There are some sequences that don’t work as well such as an aerial attack by a flock of Quetzalcoatlus but the film strives to style it out with its pacing. The dinosaurs reflect contemporary scientific thinking, hence many are brightly coloured and feathered.
Primitive War is a superior example of exploitation filmmaking. It makes its pitch quickly and efficiently to the audience and doesn’t waste time delivering upon viewer expectations. What stands out about this production is that it doesn’t allow its financial constraints to impact upon its creative ambitions. Director Luke Sparke and the cast clearly took the film seriously and strived to do their best. The result is a film that is ambitious, entertaining and exactly what was promised in the trailer. There are some rough edges along the way but that is to be expected. This isn’t a big studio production. Perhaps it could have been a slightly tighter 110 minutes instead of 133 but there are far more bloated, self indulgent films out there. Like most of the Jurassic Park/Jurassic World franchise. Unlike a lot of mainstream films these days, Primitive War is an honest film. If you want dinosaurs versus soldiers during the Vietnam War, that is what you get.
Emperor Of The North (1973)
During the seventies, cinema was not only a source of mass, commercial entertainment but was still perceived as a medium for intellectual and philosophical discourse. Television was a poor relation in terms of art and cultural significance. Film was where the so called auteur director could muse and ruminate upon the nature of the human condition and audiences could subsequently gush sycophantically about their work at dinner parties. Or something like that. Let it suffice to say that some film makers were still indulged by studios and financiers, who were still keen to cash in on the cultural sea change that came to Hollywood in the late sixties. It’s difficult to see how a film such as Emperor of the North (AKA Emperor of the North Pole) could have been made otherwise. A film set in the Great Depression about a hobo illegally travelling on freight trains and his feud with a ruthless conductor.
During the seventies, cinema was not only a source of mass, commercial entertainment but was still perceived as a medium for intellectual and philosophical discourse. Television was a poor relation in terms of art and cultural significance. Film was where the so called auteur director could muse and ruminate upon the nature of the human condition and audiences could subsequently gush sycophantically about their work at dinner parties. Or something like that. Let it suffice to say that some film makers were still indulged by studios and financiers, who were still keen to cash in on the cultural sea change that came to Hollywood in the late sixties. It’s difficult to see how a film such as Emperor of the North (AKA Emperor of the North Pole) could have been made otherwise. A film set in the Great Depression about a hobo illegally travelling on freight trains and his feud with a ruthless conductor.
During the Great Depression, Shack (Ernest Borgnine), the conductor of the No.19 freight train on the Oregon, Pacific and Eastern Railroad, makes sure that no one rides for free on his train. When A-№1 (Lee Marvin), a legendary hobo among his peers, manages to climb aboard the train, a younger and less-experienced hobo called Cigaret (Keith Carradine) follows hims. However, he is seen by Shack, who locks them both inside the boxcar that they're hiding in. A-№1 casually sets fire to the hay onboard, forcing Shack to stop the train at a nearby rail yard. A-№1 escapes to a hobo shanty town, whereas Cigaret is caught by labourers at the rail yard. He brags to them that he is the only hobo to have ridden on Shack’s train. Shack is not liked by the labourers due to his psychotic temperament and they start taking bets that no hobo can ride Shack’s train all the way to Portland. When A-№1 hears of Cigaret’s bragging he decides to take up the challenge, thus claiming the hobo title Emperor of the North Pole.
Robert Aldrich is certainly an interesting director and I particularly like The Dirty Dozen and Flight of the Phoenix as they both examine power struggles in social hierarchies and anti-heroes battling the establishment. I also have a soft spot for Twilight’s Last Gleaming as it strives (but fails) to make a point that is still pertinent today about the nature of war. However, Emperor of the North is far too much of a niche metaphor and simply lacks sufficient narrative and character development to sustain a feature film. It frequently gets bogged down in hobo philosophy which is espoused didactically, rather than depicted directly. Furthermore, as the central characters are archetypes, we learn little of their back stories or motivations. Who was A-№1 before the financial collapse? Why is Shack so zealous in his work? No details are furnished. Director Aldrich was confident that the audience would quickly grasp his symbolism. Sadly, they didn’t or perhaps they did and just weren’t that impressed.
Emperor of the North is far from a terrible film. It is just a somewhat superficial one. It takes nearly two hours to make a minor sociopolitical point that hardly comes as a revelation. Despite having some solid set pieces, it isn’t a pure action film because of the frequent musing on hoboism and its inherent message doesn’t need to be cryptically deciphered because it is as subtle as a Rhinoceros horn up the fundament. It is essentially saved by the presence of its two lead actors who bring far more to their respective roles than what is present in the script. Lee Marvin effortlessly exudes guile and charisma as A-№1 and Ernest Borgnine is every inch the psychopath as he alternates between malevolent scowls and his signature Cheshire Cat grin. Whatever the film’s other failings, the climatic battle on a flatcar with the two stars fighting with chains and an axe, isn’t one of them.
The film’s original full title was Emperor of the North Pole, alluding to a self-deprecating hobo moniker that is grand but ultimately empty, as the North Pole at the time was considered a barren kingdom. However, outside of the US and later on home media the film title was shortened to Emperor of the North, apparently to avoid confusion that it was some sort of Christmas story. Casual viewers are probably best served not watching this one and opting for a better known example of the director’s work. Those with broader tastes may well enjoy the cast of notable character actors from the era, along with the raw brutality that is ever present in Aldrich’s work. Beware the excruciating song that plays out at the beginning of the film over a montage of steam train footage as it traverses the landscape. Tune it out if possible and reflect upon how there was once a time when a mainstream studio would greenlight a motion picture about a hobo riding trains.
Terrified (2017)
In Buenos Aires, Clara (Natalia Señorales) hears voices emanating from the plughole in her kitchen sink. The voices seem to be plotting against her. Her husband Juan (Agustín Rittano) says the sounds are coming from next door. That night, Juan finds Clara’s dead body levitating in their bathroom, slamming against the wall by an invisible force. Meanwhile their neighbour, Walter (Demián Salomón), is experiencing supernatural occurrences while he tries to sleep. An invisible force repeatedly shakes his bed. After using a video camera to film these events, he sees a tall, cadaverous figure emerging from under the bed, standing over him as he sleeps. Across the road, Alicia (Julieta Vallina) is grieving for her recently deceased son, who was run over outside Walter’s house. Alicia's ex-boyfriend, police commissioner Funes (Maximiliano Ghione) calls Jano (Norberto Gonzalo), a paranormal investigator and the pair soon discover more supernatural occurrences in the area.
In Buenos Aires, Clara (Natalia Señorales) hears voices emanating from the plughole in her kitchen sink. The voices seem to be plotting against her. Her husband Juan (Agustín Rittano) says the sounds are coming from next door. That night, Juan finds Clara’s dead body levitating in their bathroom, slamming against the wall by an invisible force. Meanwhile their neighbour, Walter (Demián Salomón), is experiencing supernatural occurrences while he tries to sleep. An invisible force repeatedly shakes his bed. After using a video camera to film these events, he sees a tall, cadaverous figure emerging from under the bed, standing over him as he sleeps. Across the road, Alicia (Julieta Vallina) is grieving for her recently deceased son, who was run over outside Walter’s house. Alicia's ex-boyfriend, police commissioner Funes (Maximiliano Ghione) calls Jano (Norberto Gonzalo), a paranormal investigator and the pair soon discover more supernatural occurrences in the area.
There are times when it benefits a film to clearly define the parameters of its story and then get on with the job of telling it efficiently. Conversely, there are other times when the best thing a film can do is simply drop the audience into the middle of some unusual event or situation and just let them experience what is happening without an excess of exposition or lore. This is what Terrified (AKA Aterrados) does. The film begins with two separate supernatural events which are quite different in nature. The story then moves on to a third vignette and it becomes apparent that these activities are happening in the same neighbourhood. Although the story subsequently follows three paranormal investigators and a local police commissioner’s attempts to determine exactly what is happening, there is no overall explanation for these events or what can be done about them.
Through the use of “hyperlink cinema”, we see several aspects of something potentially much larger unfolding. This adds much to the film’s atmosphere. Director Demián Rugna, eschews the standard approach of modern US horror of building to an event and instead dives immediately into multiple fatal, supernatural events. He further wrong foots audiences by having these activities taking place in modern suburbia, making a contemporary kitchen and bedroom the centre of these phenomena. However, he still taps into deeply ingrained, traditional fears such as something lurking under the bed. The jump scares are well conceived, as are some of the more graphic set pieces, blending CGI and practical effects cleverly. He also does not squander the film’s running time, starting at a pace and maintaining it through the lean and efficient 87 minute duration.
Another factor that makes Terrified interesting is its setting. Buenos Aires, in Argentina, is like any other modern city but it has a subtropical climate and flora. The actors also speak a specific Spanish dialect. All of which offers viewers both a degree of familiarity and a sense of difference. The ubiquitous nature of US film making along with its standard tropes can at times be a source of cinematic fatigue. Terrified side steps these, offering a well constructed and intriguing tale, with a palpable sense of tension and fear. The film excels at scaring the audience by presenting paranormal encounters in a setting one doesn’t expect by default. Furthermore, the subsequent investigations are conducted with the modern tools, which still fail to yield any viable answers. Rather than giving us an explanation, the audience is instead given an intense experience, that they then have to process themselves.
If you like to be spoon-fed highly predictable jump scares, via a story working within an established narrative framework, you may not necessarily enjoy Terrified. It doesn’t play but such cinematic rules. If you are seeking an innovative horror vehicle whose primary goal is to scare and discombobulate you, then turn off the lights, crank up the sound and revel in Demián Rugna sensory assault. Horror is an extremely flexible genre that can accommodate a broad spectrum of themes, ideas and stylistic presentations. All too often film makers simply follow an established formula, providing no more than minimal variations on a theme. Terrified does more than that, offering a window into startling and disturbing supernatural happenings. It is a film that focuses on the journey, rather than the destination and it is an exceptionally well conceived and shocking journey.
Black Sabbath (1963)
Black Sabbath (AKA I tre volti della paura) is a 1963 horror anthology film directed by Mario Bava. Although an Italian production, the film was co-financed by American International Pictures and as such was conceived to appeal to US audiences. Hence, the English dialogue edit of the film which was released in America differs significantly to the original Italian version. Despite the presence of the legendary Boris Karloff and the popularity of both anthology and gothic horror at the time,the film was only a modest success at the US box office and did not do well in Italy. However, in more recent years there has been a critical reappraisal of Black Sabbath, especially the Italian dialogue version. Many aspects of the film which are standard genre tropes today, were in fact novel at the time. Also despite the production mainly being studio bound, the film oozes style and has a striking visual aesthetic.
Black Sabbath (AKA I tre volti della paura) is a 1963 horror anthology film directed by Mario Bava. Although an Italian production, the film was co-financed by American International Pictures and as such was conceived to appeal to US audiences. Hence, the English dialogue edit of the film which was released in America differs significantly to the original Italian version. Despite the presence of the legendary Boris Karloff and the popularity of both anthology and gothic horror at the time,the film was only a modest success at the US box office and did not do well in Italy. However, in more recent years there has been a critical reappraisal of Black Sabbath, especially the Italian dialogue version. Many aspects of the film which are standard genre tropes today, were in fact novel at the time. Also despite the production mainly being studio bound, the film oozes style and has a striking visual aesthetic.
The Italian version starts with “The Telephone”, in which upmarket call-girl Rosy (Michèle Mercier) returns to her basement apartment at night and starts to receive a series of menacing phone calls, allegedly from her former pimp Frank who she testified against and had jailed. She calls an ex-lover, Mary (Lidia Alfonsi), and asks for her help but things are not as they appear to be. The second story, “The Wurdulak”, features a 19th century Serbian nobleman Vladimir D'Urfe (Mark Damon) who takes shelter for the night with a peasant family in their farmhouse. They await the return of their father Gorca (Boris Karloff) who has gone to kill a Turkish bandit who has been terrorising the area. When Gorca returns his family fear that he has become a Wurdulak; a living corpse that feeds on blood. The final story “The Drop of Water”, is set in 1910 London, features her nurse Helen Chester (Jacqueline Pierreux) who steals a sapphire ring from an elderly deceased medium she is preparing for burial. On returning home she is plagued by the sound of dripping water and a ghostly apparition.
The most immediate difference between the US and Italian versions of Black Sabbath is the colour timings. The Italian print which was processed by Technicolor Roma and supervised by Mario Bava, has a vibrant, more flamboyantly nightmarish colour palette. The cinematography by Ubaldo Terzano and Mario Bava is fluid and often uses movement to create atmosphere. The use of vivid, saturated hues and dramatic lighting, particularly the contrast between light and shadow, creates a foreboding and menacing atmosphere, making the visuals themselves participants in the horror. Karloff’s entrance as Gorca is a masterfully composed sequence. He steps into frame with his back to the camera and the limps ominously towards the farmhouse. His imposing demeanour is enhanced by makeup that contrasts with being lit from below. These details are more pronounced in this version.
The Italian edit also has the stories in a different order to the US release. The film begins with “The Telephone” and in this version the sexual subtext is far more apparent. Rosy is clearly a prostitute. Mary is possibly a former client who subsequently fell in love with Rosy. Themes that were excised from the US prints. This story plays out in many respects as a giallo, bearing many narrative hallmarks. Next is “The Wurdulak”, the most gothic of the three vignettes. The Italian version has a little more violence, when Gorca reveals the head of the dead bandit. Finally “The Drop of Water” is identical in both versions of the film, as its shock lies in jump scares, rather than violence. The US release has a different introduction by Boris Karloff and he links each new story. The Italian version has him appear at the start and end of the film only. The original score by Roberto Nicolosi is present in the Italian release but was replaced in the US version by a new soundtrack by AIP stalwart Les Baxter.
Overall the Italian release of Black Sabbath, is the superior version. It delivers three supernatural tales, featuring adult themes with style and atmosphere. The US version is tamer in tone, mainly because horror films at the time were aimed at the teenage market. The visual impact of the Italian version is greater due to the more vivid use of colour and the original score is less intrusive and melodramatic than the new American soundtrack. If Mario Bava’s version has one failing it is the dubbing of Boris Karloff into Italian. Although a necessity for the film’s release in its home market, it does have an impact upon Karloff’s performance. Modern audiences may consider some of the ideas, especially those in “The Telephone”, to be a little tired and overused However, the notion of a stalker in this instance predates most US films by a decade.
The artistry and structure in Black Sabbath, particularly its blend of suspense and supernatural horror, directly influenced the Italian giallo genre and the wider global horror aesthetic. Beyond the supernatural, the film masterfully explores themes of guilt and the encroaching forces of evil, making the terror deeply relatable and psychologically disturbing. Mario Bava continued to have a significant impact upon cinema throughout the sixties and seventies. He pre-empted the US slasher genre with the gory giallo A Bay of Blood (1971) and clearly had an influence upon Ridley Scott’s Alien (1979) with his atmospheric science fiction film, Planet of the Vampires (1965). Black Sabbath is a fine example of the stylish European approach to gothic horror and is therefore “must see” viewing for horror aficionados. Seek out the Italian version if possible.
Biggles (1986)
After the success of Raiders of the Lost Ark in 1981, filmmakers scrambled to find existing intellectual properties that they could use for similar films. Hence archaic heroes such as Alan Quatermain were hastily given a modern makeover and thrust into generic movies, in a vague attempt to replicate Steven Spielberg’s successful formula. Which brings us neatly on to James Charles Bigglesworth AKA “Biggles”, a fictional pilot and adventurer from a series of books written by W. E. Johns between 1932 and 1968. Several attempts had been made in the past to bring this character to the silver screen, including one by Disney but they all failed. However, the commercial and critical success of Indiana Jones provided sufficient impetus to greenlight a new film. However, due to some curious production choices, when Biggles was finally released it was far from just a period set, action movie.
After the success of Raiders of the Lost Ark in 1981, filmmakers scrambled to find existing intellectual properties that they could use for similar films. Hence archaic heroes such as Alan Quatermain were hastily given a modern makeover and thrust into generic movies, in a vague attempt to replicate Steven Spielberg’s successful formula. Which brings us neatly on to James Charles Bigglesworth AKA “Biggles”, a fictional pilot and adventurer from a series of books written by W. E. Johns between 1932 and 1968. Several attempts had been made in the past to bring this character to the silver screen, including one by Disney but they all failed. However, the commercial and critical success of Indiana Jones provided sufficient impetus to greenlight a new film. However, due to some curious production choices, when Biggles was finally released it was far from just a period set, action movie.
Catering salesman Jim Ferguson (Alex Hyde-White), is unexpectedly transported from New York City to 1917 France, where he saves the life of Royal Flying Corps pilot James "Biggles" Bigglesworth (Neil Dickson) after he is shot down on a reconnaissance mission. Immediately afterwards, Jim is transported back to 1986, where his fiance Debbie (Fiona Hutchinson) struggles to believe his explanation as to what happened to him. However, Jim is subsequently visited by Biggles’ former commanding officer, Air Commodore William Raymond. Raymond tells him about his theory that Ferguson and Biggles are "time twins", spontaneously transported through time when the other is in mortal danger. Shortly after Jim is reunited with Biggles, along with Debbie who held onto Jim when he was transported across time. They discover that the Germans are working on a sonic weapon that could change the outcome of The Great War.
Yellowbill Productions acquired the rights to the Biggles books in 1981 and the initial aspirations of producer Kent Walwin were high. The plan was to produce a series of period set films, in the James Bond idiom, featuring action and drama. Both Jeremy Irons and Oliver Reed were originally associated with the production. Initial drafts of the screenplay were set in WWI and were faithful to W. E. Johns’ original novels. However, the producers subsequently decided to add a science fiction spin to the main story, possibly due to the imminent release of Back to the Future. Whatever the reason, the film morphed into a curious hybrid which didn’t really do justice to either the science fiction or period action genres. Furthermore, the production schedule was expedited so it could take advantage of UK tax breaks that were due to expire. As a result the screenplay was still being rewritten when director John Hough began filming.
As a result, Biggles (retitled Biggles: Adventures in Time in the US) is somewhat narratively and tonally inconsistent. Neil Dickson is well cast as James Charles Bigglesworth but has to compete for screen time with Jim Ferguson, his somewhat uninteresting time twin. The film briefly improves when Peter Cushing appears, in what was to be this iconic actor’s last role. But overall Biggles just doesn’t know what it wants to be. It feels like the writers have added multiple cinematic tropes to the screenplay out of desperation. Sadly, the romance and occasional slapstick humour fall flat. The action scenes, although well conceived, betray their low budget, featuring old tricks such as a plane flying behind a hill before exploding. Plus there’s a somewhat gory scene involving a soldier who is killed by the sonic weapon, which seems out of place.
Biggles failed at the UK box office and was equally unsuccessful when released later in the US. However, all things considered, a flawed film can still be an entertaining one. Biggles is all over the place but it does raise a wry smile from time to time. There’s plenty of the old “British stiff upper lip” with our hero telling his nemesis, Hauptmann Erich von Stalhein (Marcus Gilbert) “I'll not put a bullet in your head, old boy, because that’s not how we do business”. The flying scenes have a sense of momentum and are well shot by second unit director Terry Coles, who had done similar work on Battle of Britain. The soundtrack is also peppered with several very eighties songs from Mötley Crüe, Queen and Jon Anderson from Yes. Hence, if you’re looking for some undemanding entertainment or have an interest in the various films that tried to cash in on Indiana Jones, then you may wish to give Biggles a go.
Red Dawn (2012)
Setting aside the hubris of remaking a film such as Red Dawn, the 2012 reboot had a troubled production. Shot over the course of late 2009, on location in Michigan, MGM intended to release the film in September 2010. However, the studio’s financial problems became unsustainable over the course of that year and the film was shelved, while a financial solution was sought. Furthermore, while Red Dawn was in post production, there was a major economic shift within Hollywood due to the increasing importance of the Chinese market. This was a significant problem for MGM because the new version of Red Dawn had the Chinese invading the USA instead of Russia. Hence there were reshoots and the need for additional visual effects, so that the Chinese could be replaced with North Koreans. MGM eventually went bankrupt and the distribution rights to Red Dawn were sold off. The film was eventually released in 2012.
Setting aside the hubris of remaking a film such as Red Dawn, the 2012 reboot had a troubled production. Shot over the course of late 2009, on location in Michigan, MGM intended to release the film in September 2010. However, the studio’s financial problems became unsustainable over the course of that year and the film was shelved, while a financial solution was sought. Furthermore, while Red Dawn was in post production, there was a major economic shift within Hollywood due to the increasing importance of the Chinese market. This was a significant problem for MGM because the new version of Red Dawn had the Chinese invading the USA instead of Russia. Hence there were reshoots and the need for additional visual effects, so that the Chinese could be replaced with North Koreans. MGM eventually went bankrupt and the distribution rights to Red Dawn were sold off. The film was eventually released in 2012.
Directed by stunt coordinator and second unit director Dan Bradley, Red Dawn offers nothing more than a formulaic narrative and a simplistic plot, supplemented by some distinctly PG-13 rated action scenes. Unlike the original film, written and directed by legendary filmmaker John Milius, there is little character development, a conspicuous lack of political commentary and nothing of note to say on the nature of war. Furthermore there is no credible attempt to explain how the US was invaded by North Korea. It is casually brushed aside after a vague opening montage and then conspicuously ignored for the remainder of the story. It is possible that such material may well have existed in the original cut of the film, when the enemy was China and there was no time or resources to replace it. Or it could just be poor writing.
Upon its release in 1984, the original version of Red Dawn was denounced as Reaganite propaganda by some critics. However, irrespective of director John Milius’ politics, the film had quite a powerful anti-war commentary. It also had characters you cared about with a credible story arc. You got to watch them grow up and make hard decisions. There was some depth to the proceedings, as well as things going “boom”. Dan Bradley’s remake has nothing other than things going “boom” and even that is not especially well done. The teenage cast lack a credible journey, simply morphing from green kids to crack troops, courtesy of a training montage. The main antagonist, Captain Cho (Will Yun Lee) lacks any backstory and is simply flagged as “bad” when he executes a lead character’s father. Calling Red Dawn perfunctory is generous.
Even the presence of Chris Hemsworth fails to improve the situation. Furthermore, this time round his character has prior military experience which mitigates the main theme of the story that wars are often fought by the young, who have to learn on their feet. The much revised script by Carl Ellsworth and Jeremy Passmore makes a few vague attempts to try and say something meaningful but these fail. Hence one character espouses “I miss Call of Duty” only for his colleague to admonish him with the philosophical retort “Dude, we're living Call of Duty... It sucks”. Viewers can’t even take solace in a gritty action scene, as the film is meticulously edited to meet the criteria of its chosen rating. The fire-fights are bloodless and there’s a single and rather obvious use of the word “Fuck” in a contrived kiss off line. Even the film’s title no longer makes any sense due to the plot changes.
Electra Glide in Blue (1973)
American music producer James William Guercio is primarily known for his work in the music industry. He was the producer of the band Chicago’s first eleven studio albums. In the mid-seventies he also managed the Beach Boys and was a member of their backing band. He was during this time, well known in his field and respected. In 1973, Guercio directed, produced and wrote the score for his first and only feature film, Electra Glide in Blue. He was 28 years old at the time. Upon release the film received mixed reviews from many traditional US newspapers, who were dismissive of its revisionist themes and poetical style. However, in Europe the film was received more favourably and was entered into the 1973 Cannes Film Festival. Fifty two years on and Electra Glide in Blue is now considered an overlooked cult classic and is analysed in a more measured fashion.
American music producer James William Guercio is primarily known for his work in the music industry. He was the producer of the band Chicago’s first eleven studio albums. In the mid-seventies he also managed the Beach Boys and was a member of their backing band. He was during this time, well known in his field and respected. In 1973, Guercio directed, produced and wrote the score for his first and only feature film, Electra Glide in Blue. He was 28 years old at the time. Upon release the film received mixed reviews from many traditional US newspapers, who were dismissive of its revisionist themes and poetical style. However, in Europe the film was received more favourably and was entered into the 1973 Cannes Film Festival. Fifty two years on and Electra Glide in Blue is now considered an overlooked cult classic and is analysed in a more measured fashion.
John Wintergreen (Robert Blake) is a short motorcycle cop who patrols the rural Arizona highways with his partner Zipper (Billy "Green" Bush). Wintergreen is involved in a passionate affair with local bar owner Jolene (Jeannine Riley) and aspires to transfer to the Homicide unit. When he is informed by Crazy Willie (Elisha Cooke Jnr) of an apparent suicide-by-shotgun, Wintergreen believes the case is actually a murder. Detective Harve Poole (Mitchell Ryan) confirms the case as a homicide, after a .22 bullet during the autopsy, as well as learning about a possible missing $5,000 from the victim's home. Wintergreen is subsequently transferred to homicide to assist Poole. He soon finds himself at odds with both the detective’s methods and the local hippie community. Matters are further complicated when he learns that Jolene has an existing relationship with Poole.
Apparently Guercio watched the films of John Ford numerous times as a child. Hence when facing the prospect of filming in Monument Valley, Arizona, Guercio sought out a suitably talented Director of Photography who could capture the visual impact of the environment. He allegedly took a director’s fee of one dollar, so that the production had sufficient budget to hire Conrad Hall (Cool Hand Luke, Hell in the Pacific and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid) as cinematographer. Hence, Electra Glide in Blue certainly has the look of a western. Yet tonally it takes elements from multiple film genres such as road movies, circular tales and black comedies. The film transcends its police procedural trappings but doesn’t quite adopt the revisionist approach to the cop genre, as seen in films such as The New Centurions. Instead it has a leisurely and poetic structure, choosing to take time with off beat character studies and aspects of the ongoing counterculture, over moving the plot forward.
Robert Blake is perfectly cast as “Big” John Wintergreen, an idealistic, easygoing and fundamentally decent motorcycle cop. An ex-marine and Vietnam veteran, he aspires to be a detective and “get paid for thinking, instead of sitting on my ass getting calluses”. Yet the enormity of the Arizona landscape and its remote nature, has created a community that is indolent, disillusioned and corrupt. The local hippy commune and culture is in many ways a protest against the status quo and both groups are contemptuous of the other. John is a tragic hero who is doomed because he is an authority figure, irrespective of his amiable personality and liberal leanings. He is also a fish out of water with his police colleagues due to his ambitions and his unwillingness to abuse his power. Hence, there is a feeling of impending doom throughout the film, though not as overt as say Lonely Are the Brave.
Electra Glide in Blue languidly sets up its central narrative, briefly touching on police procedure but overall preferring to showcase various vignettes to paint a picture of the lead characters and their motivations. Wintergreen’s height is frequently explored via some witty dialogue and his friendship with Zipper is shown to be one of polar opposites. Zipper has no ambition and seems to harbour a grudge which manifests itself in the way he bullies the local hippies. When an action scenes and chase sequence are required by the plot they are dutifully supplied. A high speed motorcycle chase between the two cops and a gang of bikers is simply conceived, well executed and practically presented. It stands out in contrast as to what has gone before in the film. The film’s soundtrack and selection of “needle drops” are also well chosen and work very well. Hardly a surprise given the director’s credentials. There is also some concert footage integrated into the plot which again highlights the cultural divide that is central to the plot.
It is not unusual for people from one creative industry to experiment with another. There is a long history of musicians crossing over to acting or film productions. Look no further than Frank Sinatra, David Bowie, Mick Jagger and George Harrison. Hence James William Guercio foray into filmmaking shouldn’t not be considered a surprise. However, the way that so many elements come together so well on his first and only film, certainly is. As to why he chose not to continue directing, is ultimately only known to Mr Guercio. After making Electra Glide in Blue, he transitioned over the next decade from music to the cattle, oil industries and other business ventures. This one time dalliance into filmmaking adds a further mystique to Electra Glide in Blue. A film very much of its time with its loose structure, tangential dialogue and bleak ending. Yet it is those very qualities and others that make it so interesting.
Gangster Squad (2013)
When I first saw the promotional trailer for Gangster Squad back in 2012, prior to its release, I wasn't especially impressed. I simply thought the film was another attempt to re-invent the gangster genre for a generation who were not especially familiar with it. I wasn't exactly overwhelmed with director Ruben Fleischer's resume either. I didn't particularly like Zombieland and haven't seen 30 Minutes Or Less. Then came the tragic mass shootings in Aurora, Colorado which led to the movie being delayed so that the original ending, which featured a shoot-out in a movie theatre, could be replaced. Hence when I finally watched this film recently, I wasn't expecting a movie up to the standards of say Once Upon A Time In America or Miller’s Crossing and it would seem that I was right do so. Gangster Squad is not especially noteworthy in any respect.
When I first saw the promotional trailer for Gangster Squad back in 2012, prior to its release, I wasn't especially impressed. I simply thought the film was another attempt to re-invent the gangster genre for a generation who were not especially familiar with it. I wasn't exactly overwhelmed with director Ruben Fleischer's resume either. I didn't particularly like Zombieland and haven't seen 30 Minutes Or Less. Then came the tragic mass shootings in Aurora, Colorado which led to the movie being delayed so that the original ending, which featured a shoot-out in a movie theatre, could be replaced. Hence when I finally watched this film recently, I wasn't expecting a movie up to the standards of say Once Upon A Time In America or Miller’s Crossing and it would seem that I was right do so. Gangster Squad is not especially noteworthy in any respect.
Set in 1949 Los Angeles, sadistic gangster Mickey Cohen (Sean Penn) expands his operations with the intention of controlling all criminal activity in the city. He has bribed sufficient officials and police, that no one is willing to cross him or testify against him. Everyone except Sergeant John O'Mara (Josh Brolin), a former World War II soldier, who wants to raise a family in a peaceful Los Angeles. Police Chief William Parker (Nick Nolte) decides to form a special unit to tackle Mickey Cohen, putting O'Mara in charge. O'Mara asks fellow cop and war veteran Jerry Wooters (Ryan Gosling) to join him. He initially refuses but reconsiders after he witnesses the murder of a young boy by Cohen's people. Despite initial setbacks, such as a casino raid thwarted by corrupt Burbank cops, the squad successfully starts to shut down key parts of Cohen’s operations, leading to violent reprisals.
Gangster Squad has a beautiful production design and a great amount of period detail lavished upon it. Unfortunately no such attention has been lavished upon the plot with Will Beall's screenplay playing like an over simplified version of The Untouchables. The movie attempts to bolster the ailing narrative with numerous action set pieces but these violent punctuation points lack any impact and are simply present out of necessity. The plot has none of the usual subtexts about poverty, honour among thieves, political or religious oppression that you usually find in this genre. Instead it’s all somewhat perfunctory. Gangster Squad suffers from all the usual problems of contemporary action films and thrillers. It looks great but rings hollow. The sort of film that you struggle to remember any specific detail a year later.
Sean Penn’s excessive performance as crime boss Cohen is trying and Emma Stone is miscast as a femme-fatale. The remainder of the cast, both old and young, struggle to bring any conviction to the uninspired dialogue. It is a criminal waste of such talents as Josh Brolin, Giovanni Ribisi and Nick Nolte. The movie’s hastily reshot conclusion is perfunctory, offering the spectacle of violence and precious little else. I was not overly concerned about the resulting plot holes arising from the rewrite, as I had precious little interest in the story or characters by this point. The overall impression I was left with after watching Gangster Squad, was that the entire production was a missed opportunity. It seems that everyone concerned with the film had obviously watched all the classics from the genre, but had sadly learned nothing from them.
Fluke (1995)
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.
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.
A mongrel street dog puppy is adopted by a elderly homeless lady called Bella (Collin Wilcox Paxton). She names him Fluke (Matthew Modine). After Bella dies, Fluke is befriended by a street-wise dog called Rumbo (Samuel L. Jackson) who teaches him to live in the moment. Fluke and Rumbo spend time with Bert (Bill Cobbs) who runs a burger stand. They also visit a scrapyard, run by Boss (Jon Polito). Fluke has recurring dreams about a man and a car crash. He eventually recalls a past life in which he was a successful businessman who had a wife and son. He feels compelled to seek them out and leaves Rumbo on bad terms. After tracking down his former wife, Carol (Nancy Travis) and son, Brian (Max Pomeranc), he eventually becomes their family dog. When his ex-business partner Jeff (Eric Stoltz) arrives Fluke suspects he may have been murdered by him in his former life and seeks to protect his family.
Director Carlo Carlei gained the attention of MGM studios, when they acquired the US distribution rights for his previous Italian film, Flight of the Innocent. He was given a one picture deal and subsequently wrote an adaptation of the James Herbert novel. Being an international filmmaker, Carlei takes a far more matter of fact approach to some of the story’s more adult themes. People die and the world moves on. Animals are treated cruelly. At one point Fluke is stolen and used for experiments by a cosmetic company. Later during a car crash, he is thrown through the windscreen. Although not particularly graphic, these scenes are shown candidly, lacking the emotional soft pedalling common to US filmmaking. However, many other scenes involving Fluke and Rumbo’s adventures are shot in the style and manner you’d expect from this genre.
Despite the rather unbalanced style and approach to the subject matter, Fluke has a respectable cast and production values. Performances are solid and the cinematography by Raffaele Mertes is colourful and quite dynamic. There is also a suitably poignant score by Italian composer Carlo Silotto, who doesn’t usually write for many mainstream US productions, as he doesn’t view them favourably. What CGI there is is mainly confined to brief glimpses of the afterlife. Overall Fluke gets its story across in an efficient 96 minutes. If it had been made by an independent studio and leaned more into the darker themes of the plot, it could have been a superior film. As to how contemporary audiences receive it, that remains a lottery. If you watch Fluke with the understanding that it’s not Homeward Bound: The Incredible Journey and the ending is not especially happy, then you’re better prepared.
Darkness Falls (2003)
During 1836, in the town of Darkness Falls, Maine, an elderly widow Matilda Dixon is adored by the town’s children as she gives them a gold coin whenever they lose a tooth. One day, after a house fire, Matilda is left burned and sensitive to sunlight, so she starts wearing a china mask. When two children are reported missing, Matilda is blamed by some locals, dragged from her home and hung. She curses the town, stating that whenever a child loses their last tooth, she would come for it. If the child looks at her, she will kill them. The missing children are subsequently found, so the citizens cover up their unjust lynching. In 1990, young Kyle Walsh awakes one night to find Matilda Walsh standing over him. Kyle’s mother is killed and he is blamed for her death and institutionalised. 12 years later, Kyle (Channey Kley) is released and tries to warn the town of the imminent danger when lightning disables the power supply. He is ignored by all until the deaths begin.
During 1836, in the town of Darkness Falls, Maine, an elderly widow Matilda Dixon is adored by the town’s children as she gives them a gold coin whenever they lose a tooth. One day, after a house fire, Matilda is left burned and sensitive to sunlight, so she starts wearing a china mask. When two children are reported missing, Matilda is blamed by some locals, dragged from her home and hung. She curses the town, stating that whenever a child loses their last tooth, she would come for it. If the child looks at her, she will kill them. The missing children are subsequently found, so the citizens cover up their unjust lynching. In 1990, young Kyle Walsh awakes one night to find Matilda Walsh standing over him. Kyle’s mother is killed and he is blamed for her death and institutionalised. 12 years later, Kyle (Channey Kley) is released and tries to warn the town of the imminent danger when lightning disables the power supply. He is ignored by all until the deaths begin.
Directed by Jonathan Liebesman, Darkness Falls is a functional horror vehicle which focuses more upon jump scares and tension, rather than explicit horror. It has a lean running time of 86 minutes and efficiently gets from A to B narratively. However, this is at the expense of any wider detail other than the immediate plot at hand. The studio allegedly excised what it considered to be superfluous backstory, character development and ambiguity about the supernatural threat, preferring a short sharp shock over a slow burn. Also, the inspiration for this feature length movie was a short film, again raising the question about there being sufficient material to sustain the story. As it stands, the characters sequentially appear on screen, providing the bare minimum of exposition before the film segues into a series of set pieces. The ending is functional, providing a suitable climax and closure.
The cast and performances are acceptable by genre standards. The most generous thing that can be said is that the characters are mostly harmless and the one annoying individual is dispatched very quickly. The score by Tyler Bates is not especially memorable but is eminently suitable for such generic cinema fare. The minor highlight of the film is Stan Winston’s creature design. Winston was brought in, as he often was, to replace another effects company whose concepts were deemed “unsatisfactory”. However, it is something audiences only get to see in the final ten minutes of the film. Overall, it would appear that the studio decision to edit the film down to the bone, has turned a potentially interesting horror movie into a merely adequate one. As it stands, Darkness Falls is the sort of film you watch when you’re tired and can’t be bothered to put something else on.
The Humanoid (1979)
The Humanoid is one of many international Star Wars knock-offs that flooded cinemas in the late seventies and early eighties. Like so many others, it is derivative (even to the extent of replicating specific scenes from George Lucas’ movie), replete with awful dialogue and has somewhat basic production values. However, it does have an interesting cast including Richard Kiel, Barbara Bach, Arthur Kennedy and Corinne Cléry. Kiel gained a lot of media attention after his appearance as the steel-toothed villain Jaws in the 1977 Bond film, The Spy Who Loved Me. His stature made him the perfect fit for the titular character in this Italian science fiction production. Sadly, beyond a curious lineup of actors, The Humanoid has little to distinguish it from so many similar movies. For example, if you’ve seen Starcrash then you’ll be adequately prepared for this film.
The Humanoid is one of many international Star Wars knock-offs that flooded cinemas in the late seventies and early eighties. Like so many others, it is derivative (even to the extent of replicating specific scenes from George Lucas’ movie), replete with awful dialogue and has somewhat basic production values. However, it does have an interesting cast including Richard Kiel, Barbara Bach, Arthur Kennedy and Corinne Cléry. Kiel gained a lot of media attention after his appearance as the steel-toothed villain Jaws in the 1977 Bond film, The Spy Who Loved Me. His stature made him the perfect fit for the titular character in this Italian science fiction production. Sadly, beyond a curious lineup of actors, The Humanoid has little to distinguish it from so many similar movies. For example, if you’ve seen Starcrash then you’ll be adequately prepared for this film.
In the future, the planet Metropolis (formerly Earth) is a utopia led by a leader called The Great Brother. Peace is threatened when Lord Graal (Ivan Rassimov) escapes from a prison satellite in a stolen warship. He attacks the Grovan Institute on Metropolis and steals a rare and powerful element called Kapitron. The only survivor of the raid is a scientist, Barbara Gibson (Corinne Cléry), who is warned of the imminent danger by her mysterious pupil Tom Tom (Marco Yeh). Meanwhile, Lord Graal travels to his hidden base on the planet Noxon where he is joined by Lady Agatha (Barbara Bach), the world's tyrannical queen. She has enlisted the help of a mad scientist Dr. Kraspin (Arthur Kennedy) who plans to make an army of unstoppable supersoldiers called “Humanoids”, using the stolen Kapitron. He targets a passing spaceship, piloted by Golob (Richard Kiel), as his first test subject.
The Humanoid being an Italian exploitation movie, is a prime example of “what you see is what you get”. If you are expecting a film with comparable production values to Star Wars, then more fool you. The visual effects are mainly miniatures by industry stalwart, Anthonio Margheriti. Rather than optical compositing there are a lot of “in camera” techniques used. There are a few matte paintings and some rather good foreground models by the legendary Emilio Ruiz del Río. The score is by Ennio Morricone. The costume design, like so many Italian films from this era, is striking. Lord Graal’s troops have a S&M vibe to them. However, Kip, the film’s novelty robot dog is somewhat clunky and lacks credibility. There is also a lot of low level violence, with endless laser shootings and high falls. During a torture scene where a nameless victim has their life essence drained by a fiendish machine, there’s some nudity thrown in for “reasons”.
If you enjoy the curious subgenre that is Italian ripoff movies or flirt with the spurious notion that some films are so bad, they’re good, then you may well enjoy The Humanoid. The dialogue added in post production is ripe and performances are all turned up to eleven. Richard Kiel amiably lumbers through his role and the film does not overstay its welcome. The curious subplot regarding Tom Tom has a surprising resolution, which may elicit a cry of “what the hell has that got to do with the price of Brussel Sprouts?” from viewers. Or you may not give a shit. Director Aldo Lado doesn’t exactly distinguish himself with this movie although he had previously filmed several gallos that were well received. The Humanoid is very much a niche product and should be watched accordingly. Casual viewers may be better off watching Battle Beyond the Stars instead.
A Man For All Seasons (1966)
Contemporary viewer’s may be perplexed by a film such as A Man For All Seasons. Why make a two our motion picture about a Tudor lawyer, statesman and scholar and their subsequent moral objection to the reigning monarchs marital status? Yet, during the sixties, it was entirely possible for a mainstream studio to produce a film based upon a stage play that dramatised such specific historical events. Furthermore, a film like this that relied upon strong performances and an intelligent script (and little more) could find a mainstream audience and be both a critical and commercial success. Nowadays, such productions still exist but they are now mainly the province of streaming services. Furthermore, the cinematic format has been replaced by that of a high budget TV show, which explores the topic at hand over an eight to ten hour running time.
Contemporary viewer’s may be perplexed by a film such as A Man For All Seasons. Why make a two our motion picture about a Tudor lawyer, statesman and scholar and their subsequent moral objection to the reigning monarchs marital status? Yet, during the sixties, it was entirely possible for a mainstream studio to produce a film based upon a stage play that dramatised such specific historical events. Furthermore, a film like this that relied upon strong performances and an intelligent script (and little more) could find a mainstream audience and be both a critical and commercial success. Nowadays, such productions still exist but they are now mainly the province of streaming services. Furthermore, the cinematic format has been replaced by that of a high budget TV show, which explores the topic at hand over an eight to ten hour running time.
Directed by Fred Zinnemann (High Noon, From Here to Eternity) and adapted by Robert Bolt from his own play, A Man For All Seasons explores Sir Thomas More’s relationship with King Henry VIII at the time of the monarch’s divorce from Catherine of Aragon and remarriage to Anne Boleyn. A devout Roman Catholic, Sir Thomas More (Paul Scofield) has a crisis of conscience regarding the legality of the divorce and the subsequent break with the Church of Rome. The King (Robert Shaw) holds More in high regard and does not want to compel him to support his position, preferring that his public approval is given freely. Sadly it is not, leading to More risking his liberty and safety on a matter of principle. The screenplay is articulate and intelligent, placing great weight upon the importance of spiritual peril. The fate of one’s immortal soul was far from a trivial concern in Tudor England. There was no separation of church and state at the time and religion was an integral part of every aspect of life.
A Man For All Seasons is filled with outstanding British actors of the time, such as Leo McKern, Dame Wendy Hiller, Nigel Davenport and Susannah York. A young John Hurt makes his mark as the career driven Richard Rich. But it is Paul Scofield who dominates the proceedings as a man of principle trying to steer a fateful course without betraying his values. His failure to accommodate the political imperatives of the time is both laudable and tragic. His performance is poignant and dignified. The film is very much an exploration of the concept of identity and personal integrity. Director Fred Zinnemann wisely eliminates some of the Brechtian elements of the play, focusing on a more linear narrative and traditional presentation. He also skilfully uses historical locations in Oxfordshire and Hampshire to double for Hampton Court Palace and Parliament.
The film does make several changes to historical events as a means of providing the story with a more conventional cinematic arc. The screenplay features a more detailed backstory with regard to Richard Rich (John Hurt), the solicitor-general and his prior association with More. However, the nature of Rich’s perjury during More’s trial is in accord with historians’ consensus on events. The film stresses the point that Rich has accommodated Thomas Cromwell, the King’s most senior minister, and has been subsequently made attorney-general of Wales. This prompts a pithy retort from More “Why, Richard, it profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world, but for Wales”? Robert Bolts liberally peppers the script with similarly acerbic, yet erudite exchanges. It is one of the major elements that gives such a straightforward plot its weight and gravitas.
A Man For All Seasons is a well honed, efficient historical drama and thoughtful exploration of the frequent incompatibility of personal moral rectitude with any sort of long established political institution. Be it the Church or the monarchy. At the start of the film Cardinal Wolsey (Orson Welles) regrets he did not serve God as well as he served his king. Sir Thomas More, on the other hand, states before his execution that he remains “His majesty's good servant...but God's first”. It is a most thought provoking juxtaposition. The film also stands as a masterclass in acting and remains a textbook example of the art of writing a good screenplay. A Man For All Seasons went on to win six Academy Awards at a time when such awards were still credible and relevant. It is also worth noting that it was the sixth highest grossing film in North America in 1966.
Flow (2024)
With the proliferation of lore driven, franchise movies in recent years, a culture of analysis has developed online. Hence you will find a lot of YouTube videos that claim to “explain” the ending of specific films or provide clarification of their respective themes and subtexts. While critical debate and discussion about cinema is welcome, I think it is a mistake to always look for a specific meaning in cinema. Even clearly narrative films can be ambiguous. Art is ultimately a very subjective field of expression open to personal interpretation. Which brings me neatly to Flow, an animated feature film which tells a compelling story but raises more questions than it answers. It leaves the viewer to fill in a lot of the blanks themselves and the film is all the better for this approach. Flow is an extraordinary example of animation and a fascinating example of innovative, thought provoking filmmaking. Quite the rarity these days.
With the proliferation of lore driven, franchise movies in recent years, a culture of analysis has developed online. Hence you will find a lot of YouTube videos that claim to “explain” the ending of specific films or provide clarification of their respective themes and subtexts. While critical debate and discussion about cinema is welcome, I think it is a mistake to always look for a specific meaning in cinema. Even clearly narrative films can be ambiguous. Art is ultimately a very subjective field of expression open to personal interpretation. Which brings me neatly to Flow, an animated feature film which tells a compelling story but raises more questions than it answers. It leaves the viewer to fill in a lot of the blanks themselves and the film is all the better for this approach. Flow is an extraordinary example of animation and a fascinating example of innovative, thought provoking filmmaking. Quite the rarity these days.
In a forest, a black cat looks at their reflection in a puddle. A rabbit runs past being chased by a mixed pack of domestic dogs. The cat returns to an abandoned house, through a garden filled with wooden cat sculptures. A massive wooden cat statue overlooks the house from a hill. The house appears to be the former home of an artist. The next day the cat returns to the forest and is caught in a stampede of deer. A flash flood ensues and the cat manages to climb a tree branch and reach dry land. Returning to the house the cat is followed by a friendly labrador, who is part of the pack the cat saw previously. Both animals become aware that the water is rising and seek shelter. The labrador joins its pack in a oarless row boat, while the cat climbs to the top of the giant cat statue. Overwhelmed by the water the cat finds safety in a drifting sailboat, which contains a capybara.
Flow begins with a simple premise. A cat is adrift in a sailboat with a capybara during what appears to be an ecological apocalypse. Over the course of the film other animals seek safety onboard. The friendly labrador returns, there is also a kleptomaniac lemur and an enigmatic secretary bird. The animals squabble at times but cooperate, initially out of necessity and ultimately due to companionship. There is no dialogue and the story is not excessively didactic, although a lot of the imagery presented may appear symbolic and open to interpretation. The visual style is intriguing with the animators opting to use open-source software Blender and utilising a cel shaded aesthetic. Underpinning the onscreen journey is an enigmatic synths score that at times is reminiscent of the work of Vangelis and John Carpenter. The film is a succinct 84 minutes. No screen time is wasted but neither are events rushed.
If you have been raised exclusively on Disney animation, you will find Flow to be the antithesis of your expectations. Instead of being a product of a vast, monolithic commercial entertainment corporation, filtered through focus groups and market research, Flow is a labour of love and primarily an artistic endeavour. Written, directed and produced by Gints Zilbalodis, who also co-wrote the score and was the film’s cinematographer, Flow took over five years to make, gaining financial support and international distribution along the way. As a film it works on many levels. At its simplest, it is a timeless adventure in which a group of animals survive adversity through mutual help. As a work of art, Flow is open to a variety of interpretations. None of which are right or wrong. Some will see the film as a clear ecological warning, where others may see it as a faith based parable. It certainly raises many philosophical questions.
Sometimes, it is perfectly fine for a film to just “be”. After watching Flow and considering it, I’m not even sure what genre it is. However, although I spent some time reflecting upon some possible explanations to events and imagery in the film, I decided to abandon them. I prefer let the way the film made me feel, be its defining point. Flow is a unique production, unclouded and unspoilt by obvious contemporary commercial consideration. It is a beautiful, thought provoking piece of animation, proving yet again that the medium is not just a vehicle for children’s entertainment. It is profound and quite moving. Scarce qualities in filmmaking these days. If you look at viewer reviews on iMDb you will see a clear divide in opinion. Literalists may struggle with Flow. Such is their want. Those open to an experience driven more by feelings may fare better.
A Working Man (2025)
Levon Cade (Jason Staham) is a former Royal Marine Commando who has retired from military service and now works as the leader of a construction team in Chicago. He has a close relationship with Joe and Carla Garcia (Michael Peña and Noemi Gonzalez ) who run the company and considers them as family. Outside of work, Levon is involved in a bitter custody battle for his daughter, against her maternal grandfather, who blames Levon for his daughter’s suicide. When Garcia's teenage daughter Jenny (Arianna Rivas) goes missing, Levon reluctantly agrees to help her parents and get her back. Beginning his search at the nightclub where Jenny was last seen, he soon discovers that she was abducted by Russian traffickers. Furthermore, the culprit is Dimi Kolisnyk (Maximilian Osinski), the wayward son of a senior ranking gangster.
Levon Cade (Jason Staham) is a former Royal Marine Commando who has retired from military service and now works as the leader of a construction team in Chicago. He has a close relationship with Joe and Carla Garcia (Michael Peña and Noemi Gonzalez ) who run the company and considers them as family. Outside of work, Levon is involved in a bitter custody battle for his daughter, against her maternal grandfather, who blames Levon for his daughter’s suicide. When Garcia's teenage daughter Jenny (Arianna Rivas) goes missing, Levon reluctantly agrees to help her parents and get her back. Beginning his search at the nightclub where Jenny was last seen, he soon discovers that she was abducted by Russian traffickers. Furthermore, the culprit is Dimi Kolisnyk (Maximilian Osinski), the wayward son of a senior ranking gangster.
A Working Man is based upon the novel Levon's Trade by Chuck Dixon. The screenplay is by Sylvester Stallone and David Ayer who also directed the film. Stallone had originally intended the basic scenario of the book to be the basis of a television series but it was repurposed as a feature film. It was deemed a more marketable property due to the number of sequels written by the original author. Whether these ever see the light of day remains to be seen and is dependent upon the box office performance of A Working Man. The film has the solid production values associated with a medium budget feature film and a cast of dependable character actors in supporting roles. The action scenes are well conceived, realised but somewhat stylised. Firearms knock people off their feets and villains take multiple blows to the head before going down. Everything that you expect from the genre and the star is front and centre. Yet there is something missing.
A Working Man has a few interesting ideas, such as the lead character performing his own, amateur investigation. Ayer adds a few flamboyant touches, such as the leader of a drug dealing motorcycle gang who sits on a chrome throne made of exhaust pipes and fairings. There are also quite a lot of subplots for a film of this nature, with various elements of the Russian mafia working at odds with each other. Sadly, the main plot line about Jenny Garcia’s kidnapping founders as she decides to fight back and not to be a victim. By the climax of the film it has almost become an afterthought. Overall, A Working Man drags under the weight of a plot which pitches several ideas and then abandons them. Statham, as ever, does much of the heavy lifting through his screen presence and personality. However, compared to Ayer’s previous film The Beekeeper, this one fails to assert its difference, despite trying hard to do so. The word “adequate” springs to mind.
The Monkey (2025)
Osgood Perkins has a distinct visual style and tone to his films. It is why his previous film, Longlegs, was such a welcome change from standard genre outings. It was atmospheric both visually and tonally, demonstrating a keen understanding of horror cinema. Hence he is the perfect director to helm this adaptation of a Stephen King short story. The plot is greatly expanded and the screenplay takes a lot of liberties with the source material but the main themes of your past being inescapable and the power of guilt remain front and centre. Due to the extreme and bizarre nature of much of the onscreen deaths, the film wisely has a strong streak of gallows humour running through it which is extremely well handled. Comedy can often be used to defuse or mitigate violence which can be narratively dishonest (think Fred Krueger). Here it adds to the cruel and capricious nature of the random deaths.
Osgood Perkins has a distinct visual style and tone to his films. It is why his previous film, Longlegs, was such a welcome change from standard genre outings. It was atmospheric both visually and tonally, demonstrating a keen understanding of horror cinema. Hence he is the perfect director to helm this adaptation of a Stephen King short story. The plot is greatly expanded and the screenplay takes a lot of liberties with the source material but the main themes of your past being inescapable and the power of guilt remain front and centre. Due to the extreme and bizarre nature of much of the onscreen deaths, the film wisely has a strong streak of gallows humour running through it which is extremely well handled. Comedy can often be used to defuse or mitigate violence which can be narratively dishonest (think Fred Krueger). Here it adds to the cruel and capricious nature of the random deaths.
In 1999, airline pilot Petey Shelburn (Adam Scott) attempts to dispose of a drum-playing toy monkey at an antiques shop. He warns the proprietor that the automaton is evil and a death always occurs after it plays its drums. The monkey subsequently spontaneously plays its drum resulting in a bizarre accident where the shop owner is disemboweled by a harpoon gun. Shortly after this incident, Petey goes missing, leaving his wife, Lois, to raise their identical twin sons, Hal and Bill. The twins later find the monkey in a closet filled with their father’s mementos. They turn the key and again the monkey plays its drum. Later that evening the twin’s babysitter is killed in a freak accident at a hibachi restaurant. Further tragedies blight the twins lives, leaving them marginalised and estranged. 25 years later, despite being thrown down a well, the Monkey returns to dog the twins’ adult lives.
If you look beyond the over the top set pieces and wry humour, The Monkey attempts to explore various schools of thought surrounding the subject of death. It reflects upon the deterministic nature of our mortality and questions the relevance of human agency. The titular simian automaton is both scary and possibly symbolic. Is it an avatar of death itself? A biblically themed cameo at the film’s climax seems to imply such. Theo James gives two solid performances as the adult twin brothers and the film has several intriguingly quirky characters to enjoy. The gore is turned up to eleven and is both gross and amusing. Overall Osgood Perkins’ dark and droll approach to The Monkey is possibly for the best. If the story had been presented and explored in a more serious manner, it may well have been too po-faced or dour. Instead the film reacts to the absurdity of its antagonists’ random homicides in the only way it can. Namely, with ironic laughter.
Dog Man (2025)
For those unfamiliar with Dav Pilkey’s graphic novel character Dog Man, he’s a half-dog, half-human police officer. This comic chimaera is the result of a surgical procedure carried out after Officer Knight and his trusty dog Greg are blown up while defusing a bomb. Greg’s head is grafted to Officer Knight's body. Post surgery, Dog Man (Peter Hastings) remains an officer of the law and continues to track his nemesis, Petey (Pete Davidson), an orange cat and criminal genius. However, despite positive media coverage and a high arrest rate, Dog Man incurs the ire of his Chief (Lil Rel Howery) who is jealous of his success. Furthermore, Dog Man becomes depressed due to the loss of his owner, girlfriend and former home. Meanwhile, Petey decides to clone himself in an attempt to find a worthy assistant and also plots to resurrect a deceased super villain, Flippy, who is an evil telekinetic fish.
For those unfamiliar with Dav Pilkey’s graphic novel character Dog Man, he’s a half-dog, half-human police officer. This comic chimaera is the result of a surgical procedure carried out after Officer Knight and his trusty dog Greg are blown up while defusing a bomb. Greg’s head is grafted to Officer Knight's body. Post surgery, Dog Man (Peter Hastings) remains an officer of the law and continues to track his nemesis, Petey (Pete Davidson), an orange cat and criminal genius. However, despite positive media coverage and a high arrest rate, Dog Man incurs the ire of his Chief (Lil Rel Howery) who is jealous of his success. Furthermore, Dog Man becomes depressed due to the loss of his owner, girlfriend and former home. Meanwhile, Petey decides to clone himself in an attempt to find a worthy assistant and also plots to resurrect a deceased super villain, Flippy, who is an evil telekinetic fish.
Dog Man is a visually impressive animated comedy that succeeds in being accessible to both children and adults. Kids will like the madcap humour and frenetic mayhem, where adults will smirk and guffaw at the abundant film references, pop culture humour and satire of commonplace cinematic tropes. Within the first seven minutes there is a homage to RoboCop and it is not an obvious one, clearly showing Peter Hastings’ (who also wrote and directed the film) movie literacy. There are continual sight gags, clever puns and good old-fashioned slapstick. The film has a bright colour palette and a very knowing style. It calls out its own use of a montage and continuously nods and winks at the audience. Dog Man is certainly well made and clever, especially with regard to the contrast between Dog Man’s boundless love and Petey’s cynical philosophy.
Despite all these good points, Dog Man starts to show its weaknesses after about 50 minutes. The fast pace of the story and the continuous barrage of jokes becomes a bit of a hindrance. The audience doesn’t get time to think or take stock. While you’re laughing at one gag, you potentially miss another. There’s also a celebrity voice actor cameo that doesn’t really add any value to the proceedings and stands out like a sore thumb. The secondary plot about Flippy feels like it’s a contrivance to get the plot from A to B, rather than a valid theme to be explored. Dog Man also feels like it’s lapsing into fan service at times. Hence, although there is much to enjoy both visually and narratively about this clever adaptation, the 90 minute running time can be quite taxing for adults. Children will probably have no issue with the fast pace and bombast.
Sting (2024)
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 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.
Charlotte (Alyla Browne ), a rebellious 12-year-old, lives in a rundown apartment block with her overworked stepfather, Ethan (Ryan Corr), her mother Heather (Penelope Mitchell), and her infant half-brother, Liam. Frequently left to her own devices, Charlotte discovers an unusual spider which she catches and keeps in a jar. Unbeknown to Charlotte, the spider originated from a luminous meteor that landed in her great-aunt's apartment. Charlotte nurtures the spider, which she names Sting and it subsequently grows at an astonishing pace. Initially, she conceals its increasing size, but as it becomes more challenging to keep hidden, her stepfather and the neighbours begin to observe unusual happenings within the building. Sting's rapid growth and voracious appetite soon result in the demise of pets and residents alike. Is Charlotte’s family safe?
Director Kiah Roache-Turner, builds the tensions with some clever jump scares based around shadows and household objects being mistaken for Sting. As for the spider itself, it is very well realised by Weta Workshop, Cumulus Visual Effects, and Spectrum Films. The majority of the visual effects are practical. Sting manages to provide gallows humour, with its wise cracking exterminator and comedy pets, along with the required horror elements of a “creature feature”. However, what makes the film more interesting than standard genre outings are the characters and the central theme of a daughter reconciling with her stepfather. The human aspects of the story are well handled and have a Joe Dante-esque quality. As I’ve said before, not every film has to be a cinematic milestone. A small, focused story that is well done, is a perfectly entertaining proposition. Sting provides exactly that.
They Came to a City (1944)
Humanity struggling to survive a dystopian future has been a mainstay of pop culture for several hundred years. They Came to a City, made in 1944 as World War II was drawing to a close, takes the opposite approach in which nine individuals are shown a utopian future and given a choice whether to join it or return to their existing lives. This experimental film based on a play by J. B. Priestly, is dialogue driven and struggles with its transition to cinema. Yet the striking minimalist set design and art direction by Michael Relph, along with the crisp and beautifully framed black and white cinematography by Stanley Pavey make it visually compelling. Functionally directed by Ealing Studios stalwart, Basil Dearden, They Came to a City is not a lost classic but it certainly is an unusually cerebral and socially outspoken piece of wartime cinema.
Humanity struggling to survive a dystopian future has been a mainstay of pop culture for several hundred years. They Came to a City, made in 1944 as World War II was drawing to a close, takes the opposite approach in which nine individuals are shown a utopian future and given a choice whether to join it or return to their existing lives. This experimental film based on a play by J. B. Priestly, is dialogue driven and struggles with its transition to cinema. Yet the striking minimalist set design and art direction by Michael Relph, along with the crisp and beautifully framed black and white cinematography by Stanley Pavey make it visually compelling. Functionally directed by Ealing Studios stalwart, Basil Dearden, They Came to a City is not a lost classic but it certainly is an unusually cerebral and socially outspoken piece of wartime cinema.
Nine people from the different UK social classes, find themselves mysteriously transported to a modernist walled city. They include Sir George Gedney (A. E. Matthews), a misanthropic aristocrat; Malcolm Stritton (Raymond Huntley), a politically dissatisfied bank clerk and his neurotic and domineering wife Dorothy (Renee Gadd); Alice Foster (Googie Withers), an unhappy and exploited waitress; Mr. Cudworth (Norman Shelley), a money-obsessed banker; Lady Loxfield (Mabel Terry Lewis) a needy and class conscious widow and her put upon daughter Philippa (Frances Rowe); Joe Dinmore (John Clements) a world weary, free-thinking seaman; and Mrs. Batley (Ada Reeve), a practical and philosophical charwoman. An opulent door opens allowing them to visit the unseen city, which is hinted to be a social paradise. However, they subsequently have to choose whether to stay forever in the city or to leave and never return.
At first glance this is an excessively verbose story, told through the medium of British acting of the time, which can be quite jarring to the modern audience. However, the dialogue is clever, telling and socially honest with the wisest person being the ageing charwoman. Performances are strong and honest. The political and social philosophising may seem somewhat naive to casual viewers but this was very much the mood of the nation in 1944. The horrors of World War II drove a robust public debate for social change, which was succinctly demonstrated by Winston Churchill's defeat in the 1946 General Election. Playwright, novelist and social commentator J. B. Priestley was a wartime correspondent and felt that the status quo needed to be addressed in a postwar settlement. However, he was wise enough to realise that there would be strong resistance to such ideas and They Came to a City includes characters who dislike the notion of any sort of change.
Critics at the time, as well as contemporary analysis, often cite the notion of any utopia as flawed, as it runs counter to human nature. As seaman Joe Dinmore states “They’ll tell us we can’t change human nature. That’s the oldest excuse in the world for doing nothing”. There are further prescient observations about bankers and finance. When Mr. Cudworth recounts how he told a citizen of the city that he worked in banking, they replied “we call that crime”. Again naysayers point out the “school boy socialism” of Priestley’s dialogue but here we are 80 years later and the same sentiments about the exploitative nature of untrammelled capitalism are still being made. Overall They Came to a City is a cinematic curate's egg but an engaging one. It should be viewed with the national mood of the time in mind, as context is key to enjoying this social fantasy.
The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim (2024)
I have always found it curious that there haven't been more feature films set in Middle-earth, after the success of Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy. However, a little research shows a very complex set of rights regarding Tolkien’s work, with different material being controlled and administered by different bodies. Hence, the market has not been saturated with officially licensed material. Thus, when The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim was announced to be in production, it aroused a great deal of curiosity both among fans and those with an interest in the wider film industry. To base an entire feature film on something that is effectively just a few paragraphs in the appendices of The Lord of the Rings is quite intriguing. The producers claimed it afforded them greater artistic freedom not to be constrained by an excess of lore. Industry pundits theorised that the film was being produced solely to ensure that wider rights were retained.
I have always found it curious that there haven't been more feature films set in Middle-earth, after the success of Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy. However, a little research shows a very complex set of rights regarding Tolkien’s work, with different material being controlled and administered by different bodies. Hence, the market has not been saturated with officially licensed material. Thus, when The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim was announced to be in production, it aroused a great deal of curiosity both among fans and those with an interest in the wider film industry. To base an entire feature film on something that is effectively just a few paragraphs in the appendices of The Lord of the Rings is quite intriguing. The producers claimed it afforded them greater artistic freedom not to be constrained by an excess of lore. Industry pundits theorised that the film was being produced solely to ensure that wider rights were retained.
Setting aside the provenance of the production, The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim is a competent anime fantasy film directed by Kenji Kamiyama. Set 183 years prior to the events of The Lord of the Rings, the film depicts the reign of Helm the Hammerhand, King of Rohan. During a council meeting with the Lords of Rohan, Freca Lord of Adorn requests that Helm’s daughter, Héra, marry his son Wulf to unite the Rohan. Freca being of part Dunlending blood and considered by many in Rohan as an outlander. However, Helm rejects the offer and rebuffs Freca. A fight ensues between the two leaders and Helm kills Freca with a single punch. Wulf leaves, vowing revenge and subsequently raises an army among the Dunlendings. A surprise attack on Edoras forces the Rohirrim to retreat to the Hornburg. With the death of her two brothers and her father stricken with grief, it falls to Héra to rally her people and turn the tide of the war.
From a production perspective, there is much to praise about The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim. The background art is sumptuous and vivid and there is a strong score by composer Stephen Gallagher. He cunningly uses classic themes by Howard Shore and further embellishes the soundtrack with solid material of his own. The animation is dynamic and doesn’t pull its punches. Limbs are severed and blood is spilt. The anime style works surprisingly well with the source material and certainly doesn’t look out of place. I am not a great fan of this medium but did not find it a deal breaker in any way. The voice acting is strong with the central characters having clear and distinct voices. The screenplay does not excessively diverge from established lore although it does make some changes for the sake of the narrative arc. Héra being an original character.
However, despite solid production values The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim has two fundamental problems. The first is the story simply cannot sustain its two hour running time and the film could easily have been 30 minutes shorter. What is an interesting footnote in the source text, remains such as a feature film and nothing more. The second is the compulsion that new entries in a franchise often have, to try and directly link to events that occurred in a previous movie. For example there is a totally unnecessary action scene that is resolved by the appearance of a beast identical to the “watcher in the water” outside the West-gate of Moria. It doesn’t really hold up logically and seems very arbitrary. There are also several other clumsy references to both Orcs and Gandalf as the screenplay hamfistedly attempts to link to the forthcoming events of The Lord of the Rings.
Hardcore Tolkien fans may get more enjoyment from The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim, than broader audiences. I found the film to be sufficiently entertaining but upon reflection it really doesn’t add much to the existing Tolkien cinematic universe. Also, as a Tolkien aficionado I can think of plenty of other stories referenced in the appendices of The Lord of the Rings, that would make a better feature film. I think The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim would have fared better if it was part of a smaller scale television show called “Tales of Middle-earth” or something similar and the story was told over a more concise running time. As it stands, this 134 minute animated film falls between two stools. It is not bad but it is not anything more than adequate. When you consider the pedigree of the production and who is involved, you expect a lot more.