Classic Movie Themes: Mackenna's Gold
Mackenna's Gold is a perfect example of the Western at its most decadent. Made at a time when the genre was becoming increasingly tired and facing strong competition from the Italian market, Hollywood decided that the way to renew public interest was to turn everything up to eleven and turn the Western into a multimillion dollar spectacle. The movie cost Columbia Pictures $14 million in 1969 and boasted an all-star cast, as well as action and special effects. However, it was not a smooth production and the studio seemed to get cold feet prior to its release. The Three hour running time was reduced to one hundred and twenty-eight minutes, leaving the final cut feeling somewhat uneven. Overall, the public were indifferent and the box office takings were low.
Mackenna's Gold is a perfect example of the Western at its most decadent. Made at a time when the genre was becoming increasingly tired and facing strong competition from the Italian market, Hollywood decided that the way to renew public interest was to turn everything up to eleven and turn the Western into a multimillion dollar spectacle. The movie cost Columbia Pictures $14 million in 1969 and boasted an all-star cast, as well as action and special effects. However, it was not a smooth production and the studio seemed to get cold feet prior to its release. The Three hour running time was reduced to one hundred and twenty-eight minutes, leaving the final cut feeling somewhat uneven. Overall, the public were indifferent and the box office takings were low.
Despite the movies flaws there is still much to like about Mackenna's Gold, although one’s enjoyment is frequently linked to the preposterous nature of the screenplay and the varying quality of the visual effects. One such aspect is the rather cool and groovy soundtrack by Quincy Jones. It has all his usual hallmarks such as crescendo's and tone colour shifts. Even within the confines of the Western idiom he manages to include a hint of his jazz and blues roots. The movie also features Jose Feliciano singing "Ole Turkey Buzzard", a song that re-occurs throughout the film. The cautionary lyrics regarding men killing each other in their lust for gold, mirror the on-screen story and change as the narrative progresses. It's catchy nature and somewhat incongruous inclusion in the movie’s score has earned it a somewhat cult reputation.
Ronald Erle Grainer (11 August 1922 – 21 February 1981) was a prolific Australian composer who is best remembered for his work in the United Kingdom during the sixties and seventies. He wrote numerous notable scores and theme music for several iconic television shows such as Doctor Who, Steptoe and Son and Tales of the Unexpected. He also composed the soundtrack for several major motion pictures such as Some People (1962), The Assassination Bureau (1969) and The Omega Man (1971). Grainer relocated to London from Australia in 1952 but it was not until 1960 that he gained critical success after writing the music for the popular TV show Maigret. He subsequently received an Ivor Novello award for “Outstanding Composition for Film, TV or Radio”.
The following is about a cultural change. That is not to say that it’s a value judgement or one of those posts you so frequently read by bloggers of a certain age, that essentially boil down to “things were better in my day”. It is merely an observation and like all observations it is not 100% universal. There will always be exceptions to the rule. I am simply painting with broad strokes a general truism for your consideration. My point being that people listen, experience and enjoy music differently these days compared to how they did three to four decades ago. I’m not talking about the science of hearing or anything complex like that. I am merely highlighting the change in the way we choose to experience music and how that has an impact upon its creation and presentation. So like Anne Elk, presenting her theory on the Brontosaurus, here is the axiom at the heart of this post.
Allonsanfàn (1974) is an Italian historical drama film written and directed by Paolo and Vittorio Taviani. The title of the film derives from the first words of the French Revolutionary anthem La Marseillaise (Allons enfants, IE “Arise, children”). It is also the name of a character in the story. Set against the backdrop of the Italian Unification in early 19th-century Italy, Marcello Mastroianni stars as an ageing revolutionary, Fulvio Imbriani, who becomes disillusioned after the Restoration and endeavours to betray his companions, who are organising an insurrection in Southern Italy. Allonsanfàn is a complex film that is not immediately accessible to those unfamiliar with the intricacies of Italian political history nor the arthouse style of the Taviani brothers. However, it is visually arresting and features a rousing score by Ennio Morricone.
Jerry Goldsmith’s contribution to Star Trek is immense. Yet simply listing the films and TV episodes he wrote music for does not adequately encapsulate the significance of his contribution to the franchise. His majestic, thoughtful and uplifting musical scores provide an emotional foundation that reflects the core ethos of Star Trek. They also create an invaluable sense of continuity that spans multiple shows and movies. Perhaps the most obvious example of this is his iconic title music for Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979) that was subsequently adopted as the theme tune for Star Trek: The Next Generation. His work was held in such high regard, when Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989) ran into production issues, it was thought that a Jerry Goldsmith soundtrack may well elevate the film. Sadly it didn’t but his work on that instalment was outstanding and among his best.
Halloween (1978) is both a genre and cinematic milestone. It made stars of Jamie Lee Curtis and director John Carpenter as well as kickstarting the slasher genre that dominated the box office for the next 15 years. Unlike many of the inferior imitations that followed in its wake, Halloween is not a gorefest but a far more suspenseful and unsettling film. It’s shocks and sinister atmosphere are the result of sumptuous panavision cinematography by Dean Cundey and inventive editing by Tommy Wallace and Charles Bornstein. Another invaluable asset to the film’s effectiveness is John Carpenter minimalistic synth and piano score which perfectly embellishes the film with an air of menace. After 33 years and various re-arrangements in subsequent sequels, the original Halloween Theme is still as effective today as it was when the film was first released.
Tenebrae (1982) is probably Dario Argento’s most accessible “giallo” for mainstream audiences. Although violent, it is not as narratively complex as Deep Red (1975) or as bat shit crazy as Phenomena (1985). The story centres on popular American novelist Peter Neal (Anthony Fanciosa) who is in Rome to promote his latest book. Events take a turn for the worst when a series of murders appear to have been inspired by his work. The plot twists and turns, the director explores themes such as dualism along with sexual aberration and blood is copiously spattered across the white walled interiors of modernist buildings. It is slick, disturbing and has a pounding synth and rock score by former Goblin members, Claudio Simonetti, Fabio Pignatelli, and Massimo Morante.
An American Werewolf in London is a genre milestone and one of the few horror films that successfully manages to balance humour and suspense without mitigating the overall tone of the story. 40 years on from its theatrical release it still holds up well with its bitter sweet love story, tragic themes and ground breaking transformation effects by Rick Baker. Director John Landis never really bettered this concise and effective genre outing. It hits the mark in virtually every part of the production. However, there is one aspect of the film that does suffer as a result of the director’s personal choices. Whether it is to the detriment of the overall film is debatable. The point in question is the film’s soundtrack and the director’s focus upon the song Blue Moon by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart.
Before we start, no I am not writing about Alexander Courage’s classic main theme for the original Star Trek show. I can add nothing further to that particular discussion and it remains iconic and inspiring, even when distilled down to just the initial fanfare. In this post I want to draw your attention to another piece of music from Star Trek that has permeated its way into popular culture. A cue that when heard, if the listener is familiar with its provenance, will instantly conjure up images of flying drop kicks, ear claps and judo chops. A piece of music that can be added to pretty much any video footage and instantly make it more heroic. Yes, I am talking about what has become generically known as Star Trek “fight music”. Or more specifically, the "The Ancient Battle/2nd Kroykah" cue from Amok Time (S02E01) composed by Gerald Fried. The scene during the koon-ut-kal-if-fee ritual in which Spock fights Kirk on the planet Vulcan for complicated “reasons”.
Classical music has often been used to great effect in cinema since the advent of sound. It has certain advantages over bespoke compositions, in that it can imbue a scene with a sense of gravitas and emotionally connect with viewers who may already be familiar with the piece being played. Legendary director Stanley Kubrick famously rejected Alex North’s score for 2001: A space Odyssey after finding the classical tracks he used for the temporary soundtrack complement the visuals perfectly. Over the years, some particular pieces of classical music have proven to be very popular and flexible, thus appearing in a wide variety of films across multiple genres. Hence, I have chosen two well known tracks that demonstrate this. I would also like to highlight contemporary classical music and have also selected one example that I feel demonstrates how the genre sublimely compliments cinema.
If you mention The Pink Panther (1963) I’d hazard a guess that most people will instantly think of Inspector Clouseau (and possibly throw in a quote in faux French about “Minkeys”) or hum or whistle the iconic theme tune. It’s blend of cool sixties Jazz and Lounge is both classy and evocative. Henry Mancini’s contribution to the Pink Panther franchise is commensurate to that of Peter Sellers and Blake Edwards. If you removed his musical scores from any of the films they would be greatly diminished. In fact one can argue that the movies made in the eighties after Sellers’ death are greatly bolstered by Mancini’s intelligent and accomplished musical accompaniment. The franchise may have run out of steam but Mancini never did so.
Back in August 2018, I posted seven of my favourite tracks from various video games that I’ve played over the years. I thought recently that it was high time that I did the same again. So here are a further five musical cues that I especially enjoy. All of which contribute greatly to the respective games that they feature in. Unlike film composers, musicians that write for video games do not always enjoy comparable exposure or attention. Yet often they have a more complex remit, having to write material for dozens of hours of content, rather than just two or three. Furthermore, the complete soundtrack to many video games often remain conspicuously absent, with fans having to data mine the game client to find the tracks that they love. Which is why it is important for those that enjoy video game music to show their support. Perhaps then more publishers will release full and comprehensive game soundtracks for digital download.
It was Friday the 13th yesterday, so I thought it was about time that I added Harry Manfredini’s iconic score to the annals of Classic Movie Themes. The 1980 slasher movie Friday the 13th has become as legendary in the pantheon of cinematic horror history as John Carpenter’s Halloween. Although there are marked differences between these two films, both use minimalist musical scores extremely effectively to punctuate the proceedings and embellish the overall atmosphere. However, Manfedini did not want to provide viewers with obvious audio cues during scenes of building tension. He preferred to focus his score upon the activities of the franchise's iconic killer, Jason Voorhees, and hence have strong musical cues when he was on screen. This approach meant that he had to use a unique musical motif to denote potential tension, without diminishing its effect on the audience by excessive use of obvious and melodramatic cues.
Game of Death was Bruce Lee’s fourth Hong Kong martial arts movie. Due to the success of his previous films he found himself in a position where he could finally write and direct a project himself. Filmed in late 1972 and early 1973, the film was put on hold midway through production when Hollywood offered him a starring role in Enter the Dragon. He died shortly after completing the US backed movie that made him an international star, so Game of Death remained unfinished. Several years later the rights to the raw footage were sold and recycled for a new movie, that kept the name but bore little resemblance to Lee’s original vision. For most of Game of Death, Kim Tai-jong and Yuen Biao double for Bruce Lee and it is only in the final act that audiences actually get to see about 12 minutes of material that he shot himself. The 1978 release of Game of Death, directed by Robert Clouse, is a mess but remains a cinematic curiosity. The scenes which genuinely feature Bruce Lee are outstanding, even in an abridged form.
The Long Good Friday not only launched then career of Bob Hoskins but remains a uniquely British take on the gangster genre. Featuring authentic performances and a credible plot, the screenplay touches upon many of the social and political issues of the time; police corruption, the IRA, urban renewal and the decline of industry, along with EEC membership and the free-market economy. It’s a gritty and unrelenting drama that is still relevant today. Furthermore, the film is filled with quotable dialogue and has several stand out scenes that showcase Bob Hoskins’ smouldering performance. It’s also offers of “who’s who” of British character actors and there is one sequence still has the power to shock even today.
A few years ago, I wrote a post about cult movie soundtracks and how many of these movies are often blessed with a high quality score from an established composer. The subject came up again recently when I was visiting the British Film Institute with friends, and several other examples were discussed. Hence, I thought it would be prudent to write a follow up post with another selection of material, as it continues to amaze me how often the most appalling films can still have outstanding soundtracks. With this idea in mind I've collated five films that are for various reasons are labelled “cult” and have suffered the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” over the years. All have scores of interests and note, though for different reasons. I have chosen a track from each soundtrack which I think highlights the musical excellence and integrity of the composers involved. The genres are varied as are the musical styles and nuances of each piece. All clearly demonstrate how a well-conceived score can embellish and enhance a movie, effectively becoming a character in its own right.
Lords of the Fallen is an action role-playing game from 2014, played from a third-person perspective. It is broadly in the same idiom to Darksiders and Dark Souls with the emphasis on complex and challenging combat. And it is for that reason that I didn’t get on with this title when I bought it in a Steam sale a few years ago. I felt that the long, protracted fights were an impediment to the narrative, which I quite enjoyed. However, the game was designed this way to appeal to the combat focused gamer and “git gud” culture. But I think that it’s important to try different genres of games from time to time and to step occasionally out of your comfort zone. I would cite the Hand of Fate series as a positive example of this. Both of those titles are from a genre I wouldn’t usually consider and playing them turned out to be a very positive experience
Alien is a unique genre milestone. It challenged the established aesthetic created by 2001: A Space Odyssey of space travel being pristine, clinical and high tech and replaced it with a grimy, industrial quality. The space tug Nostromo is also a conspicuously “blue collar”, civilian venture, underwritten by a large corporation. As for H. R Giger’s xenomorph, it redefined the depiction of extraterrestrial life in movies. Director Ridley Scott brought visual style and atmosphere to particularly unglamorous and dismal setting. He also scared the hell out of audiences at the time with his slow burn story structure and editing style that hints, rather than shows. Overall, Alien is a text book example of how to make a horror movie and put a new spin on a classic and well-trodden concept.
James Horner was a prolific, yet consistently good composer with a broad range of styles. Consider his score for 48 Hrs with its Jazz under currents and then compare it to his grand swashbuckling approach to Krull. They are radically different soundtracks, but both are extremely effective in embellishing their respective motion pictures. That was James Horner great talent. He knew when to be theatrical and bombastic but could also dial it back and be subtle, gentle and delicate. It made his body of work very diverse and memorable.
James Horner, although possessing a very broad and eclectic musical range, was in many respects a very traditional composer. He was certainly au fait with works of such giants as Miklós Rózsa, Korngold and Bernard Herrmann and it often manifested itself in his music through his use of the leitmotif. Perhaps the reason James Horner was so consistently good and crafted so many outstanding pieces of music, is because he never saw his profession as just a means to an end. As he said in an interview once, “I don’t look at this as just a job. I see music as art”.
Star Trek: Enterprise was the first show in the Star Trek pantheon to have a song performed by an established artist play over the opening credits, rather than a traditional theme tune. Up until 2001, the franchise had maintained a more formal approach, established with the iconic introduction to the original series composed by Alexander Courage. Needless to say, such a radical departure from established practise brought about consternation and debate among fans. In some respects, you can argue that point about the entire show itself, but that as they say, is an entirely different blog post. Needless to say, the dislike and hatred that the song Where My Heart Will Take Me engendered in certain quarters, lead to a petition to have it removed. Needless to say, this movement failed, and the show continued using it for four seasons. Seventeen years on this particular debacle has now died down and the song is often just referenced ironically by fans as an amusing anecdote and piece of Trek trivia.
According to Wikipedia “Hawk the Slayer is a 1980 British sword and sorcery adventure film directed by Terry Marcel and starring John Terry and Jack Palance. The film has developed a cult following”. That doesn’t do the movie justice by any reckoning. Hawk the Slayer is a quirky, low budget, high camp fantasy movie that compensates for its budgetary shortcoming by being so preposterously silly. It is loaded with hard boiled, fantasy steeped dialogue that parodies well known genre tropes. It treads a fine line between utter bilge and stupid fun. It is very much a product of its time and is also filled with British character actors. Some viewers will see nothing more than a cheap and cheerful cash-in on the eighties Sword and Sorcery boom. Others will delight at this inventive, stylised and silly fantasy orientated outing. Such is the nature of cult movies.
Film producer Julian Blaustein had a long-standing desire to make a film that addressed the fears and concerns of the post war Atomic Age. With the backing from Fox Studio Executive Darryl F. Zanuck, he hired screenwriter Edmund North to adapt the short story Farewell to the Master by Harry Bates. The screenplay provided a moral commentary about the ongoing arms race and featured an alien visitor with Christ like qualities who delivers an apocalyptic message. Veteran director Robert Wise was brought in head the project and a fine cast of established characters actors such as Michael Rennie, Patricia Neal Hugh Marlowe and Sam Jaffe was assembled. The finished movie has proven to be one of the greatest science fiction movies ever; it is The Day the Earth Stood Still made in 1951.
King Solomon’s Mines is a 1985 Cannon Films production based on the pulp works of H. Rider Haggard. It was quickly made to cash in on the ongoing success of Indiana Jones franchise, although the finished movie bears little resemblance to the classic original novel. Like most Cannon movies from that boom era, it was a cheap and fast enterprise that superficially sported a good cast, but ultimately didn’t do much with them. Veteran director J. Lee Thompson favoured a light and comic approach to the material, as the film’s budget could hardly sustain any major notable set pieces. Yet, it proved popular enough at the box office to warrant a sequel the following year. Allan Quatermain and the Lost City of Gold proved to be as equally silly but by then the public’s interest had waned.
A ten months ago, I wrote about the LOTRO soundtrack and listed some of my favourite tracks. This time round rather than just limit myself to music from one game, I thought it may be more interesting to broaden the remit. So, I have decided to upload seven of my favourite tracks and music cues from various games I have played over the last two decades. As with cinema, the soundtrack of a game plays a very important role. It can make a substantial impact on the players perceptions and enjoyment. The following tracks are examples that I feel have greatly enhanced a game. They’re also ones that I find particularly enjoyable. They are not in any order of preference.
Paul Verhoeven has seldom made a movie without some semblance of controversy associated with it, and his 1992 neo-noir Basic Instinct was no different. Even before its US release, Basic Instinct courted controversy due over its overt sexuality and graphic depiction of violence. It was strongly opposed by gay rights activists, who criticised the film's depiction of homosexual relationships and the portrayal of a bisexual woman as a homocidal narcissistic psychopath. The opening murder with an icepick is still shocking twenty six years later and is an excellent showcase for makeup FX artists Rob Bottin.
You can write pages on Gerry Anderson's 1968 Supermarionation series Joe 90. There's the morally ambiguous premise of giving an emotionally immature nine-year-old the experiences of an adult. Then the psychological effects of allowing him to kill at will. Then there's the perennial issue of scientists prostituting their skills to the intelligence community. One can also reflect upon the absence of any major female characters in the series and how that may impact upon Joe himself. Finally, when one finally arrives she's a gold-digging bitch who tries to exploit Joe’s Dad, Professor McClaine. Joe 90 is certainly a psychiatrist’s dream subject.
Despite the popularity of the TV show in 1965, the two spinoff Thunderbirds feature films were both box offices failures. This has often been attributed to the indifferently written screenplays that seem to have completely missed the sense of suspense that the fifty-minute episodes achieved. Both feature films feel rather slow and like extended episodes rather than big budget extravaganzas. They fail to do anything different with established characters and apart from showcasing more extensive miniature effects in a widescreen format, don’t really have much more to offer. It’s curious that the winning, character driven formula that worked on television was overlooked for these big screen outings.
I grew up during the seventies when network TV shows still put a lot of thought and effort into such things as their theme tune. It was a decade littered with memorable tracks that captured the essence of the shows they came from. Many have now become integral aspects of popular culture, leading to countless internet memes as well as becoming the ringtones of choice for many a fortysomething. However, things are very different now. You can have a staggeringly good theme for your show, but it can't possibly be longer than thirty seconds. And don’t think for a moment that viewers can listen to it again at the end, as it has now become standard practice to compress the credits into a third of the TV screen and preview what's coming next, while some link announcer spouts inanities. Mercifully, cable and streaming companies tend to treat their TV shows with greater respect. The lack of commercial advertising ensures a longer program duration and hence more focus on a theme tune. However, network TV still commands big audiences, yet hasn’t in recent years produced any TV show themes of note.
Dark City: Director's Cut (1998)
There are many directors who have cut their teeth working in the music industry. They have often fashioned their cinematic style and technique from the music videos they’ve made. Unfortunately, I am not a fan of this school of movie making. McG, for example represents to me the epitome of style over substance. I also detest this current trend for fast editing. It may well be pertinent for the music industry but I believe it is to the detriment of the narrative cinema. But there is one director from this background who has risen above his roots and exhibits true creative talent and a fundamental grasp of film. Alex Proyas, director of The Crow and I, Robot.
There are many directors who have cut their teeth working in the music industry. They have often fashioned their cinematic style and technique from the music videos they’ve made. Unfortunately, I am not a fan of this school of movie making. McG, for example represents to me the epitome of style over substance. I also detest this current trend for fast editing. It may well be pertinent for the music industry but I believe it is to the detriment of the narrative cinema. But there is one director from this background who has risen above his roots and exhibits true creative talent and a fundamental grasp of film. Alex Proyas, director of The Crow and I, Robot.
Dark City is an often-overlooked film, lost in the wake of the media hype surrounding The Matrix. Both have plot similarities and common themes. However, Dark City displays a deeper level of thought which is perhaps t why it lost favour with mainstream audiences not adequately equipped for its cerebral rigour. There is also a lack of a mainstream A list actor. Instead the film relies upon an international cast of established character actors. In 2008, director Alex Proyas re-edited the film, removing the original opening narration, adding additional material and some extra FX footage. The results are quite startling and have had quite an impact on the way the story is presented and which themes and motifs are emphasised.
Dark City starts off as a stylised film noir, with Rufus Sewel waking up in a motel with a dead prostitute. He's soon on the run from hard boiled cop, William Hurt. Can he trust his estranged wife Jennifer Connelly? Is he really mentally ill as his Doctor (Kiefer Sutherland) describes or is there something more sinister going on? Who are the trio of tall strangers dressed in black, who are pursuing him over the ersatz 1950s city? A postcard hints at possible clues that can be found at shell beach, an out of town resort. But despite being clearly sign posted, no underground train seems to go there. Matters just seem to get stranger, as peoples identities change along with streets and buildings. Why is it perpetually night time? As the story soon descends into a disturbing dystopian nightmare it becomes clear that there are sinister forces at work.
This director's cut of Dark City, turns a flawed but accomplished film into one that finally reaches its full potential. The detective story soon gives way to darker plot elements and expands into a gothic vision. The final act reveals an intriguing science fiction style dénouement. To say more would spoil the plot for those who have yet to see it. Let it suffice to say that Dark City is one of a handful of movies that successfully straddles multiple genres. The production design is striking mixing expressionism, art nouveau and fifties Americana. The story is reminiscent of Philip K. Dick work and has more than a hint of Kafka about it.
The cast is very eclectic (and international), featuring the talents of Ian Richardson, Richard O' Brien, Colin Friels, Bruce Spence and even John Bluthal (Frank Pickles from The Vicar of Dibley). Trevor Jones provides an evocative soundtrack. Proyas directs stylishly with a good grasp for story and character. This new cut, removes the voice over at the beginning which clumsily telegraphed the plot and places a more nuanced focus on the initial mystery. The theme of awaking from a perceived reality into a bleaker and more sinister alternative one, as mentioned earlier draws comparisons with The Matrix. However, the messianic allegory of that film is exchanged here for a more Nietzschian subtext.
Dark City by its very nature was always destined to become a cult film. Yet it actually is more than that, working on several levels. It can be viewed as a baroque science fantasy film or as a deeper commentary on the shallow and contrived nature of modern society. It is certainly a visually arresting and thoughtful if sombre film. It is not excessively violent, though it is somewhat grotesque and brooding. The ending may spark a further debate when you consider the implications.
Mainstream films are easy to recommend to people. They’re usually formulaic, work within clear parameters and they’re not controversial. Most people, when viewing such film on someone else’s suggestion, are left with a fairly simply choice. Did they like it or not? Whatever the outcome, no feathers are ruffled. No one looks at you askance afterwards and says “why the hell did you think I’d like that piece of shit”? If something like this happens, then you have clearly not recommended a mainstream film. Perhaps you’ve suggested something that’s a little more of an acquired taste. Something niche, from a very specific sub-genre. Which brings me neatly to Blazing Magnum AKA Strange Shadows in an Empty Room (1976). The US title gives the impression that this film is a hard boiled cop thriller, like so many others that followed in the wake of Dirty Harry. But there’s a clue in the European title. Yes, this movie has more than just a whiff of a giallo about it.
In the year 1860, Baron Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) faces execution by guillotine for the murders perpetrated by the creature he created. With the assistance of a hunchback named Karl (Oscar Quitak) he avoids death by beheading the priest who came to give him the last rites. The priest’s body is then mistakenly buried by the authorities. Three years later, Victor, now using the name Doctor Stein, has established himself as a prosperous physician in Karlsbrück, serving both affluent patients and the poor at a paupers’ hospital. Hans Kleve (Francis Matthews), a junior member of the medical council, recognises Victor and being an admirer, seeks to become his apprentice. Victor and Hans then undertake an experiment to transplant Karl’s living brain into a new, more refined body, rather than a grotesque monstrosity the Baron has previously made. Karl is eager to have a new healthy body, especially after encountering Margaret Conrad (Eunice Gayson), the charming new assistant at the hospital.
This movie questionnaire was originally created by Alexander from Cinemaniac Reviews. Sadly, I believe that website is now defunct. However, that doesn’t in anyway invalidate the questionnaire itself which has some very good questions about your relationship with cinema. Some of my answers to the questions posed are about films that I enjoy, as opposed to those that are considered cinematic classics. However, I have answered some questions more seriously than others, especially the one about undeserving recipients of the Best Film Oscar. I struggled with a couple of questions because I no longer go the cinema as frequently as I did 10 years ago. This is mainly due to the fact that a lot of the films I find interesting end up going straight to streaming after very brief theatrical releases. Some do not even get shown in cinemas. Hence I view far more at home. But I digress. On with the questions and answers. Feel free to comment below and share your views.
Exit 8 is a sophisticated and claustrophobic psychological thriller directed by Genki Kawamura, which skilfully transforms a minimalist indie walking-simulator game into a cinematic existential enigma. This overtly metaphorical film renders the repetitive nature and drudgery of modern working life into a physical environment in which the lead character is trapped and must find a way out. A random, brutal maze filled with an atmosphere of indifference to the lab rats that find themselves trapped within. Or is it their personal guilt that has put them there? Genki Kawamura’s psychological mystery draws inspiration from the Japanese video game of the same name, as well as from the cyclical nature of Groundhog Day and endless corridors of the Overlook Hotel in Kubrick’s The Shining. Although there are jump scares and some ghoulish imagery, this is not a horror vehicle. Instead this is a disquieting psychological drama with a strong sense of morality.
I wrote a post 18 month’s ago regarding whether a directors cut of a film is superior by default to the version originally shown in cinemas. Obviously the answer was no and I then went on to give three examples of films where I think the theatrical release is better to lengthier or substantially altered director’s cut that was subsequently made available at a later date. This time round in this post, I would like to do the complete opposite. I shall provide some examples of films that I think are significantly improved by a longer cut or a substantially, restructured edit. Note some of these examples are technically not a “director’s cuts” but a restoration or reconstruction of the director’s original vision. I shall endeavour to highlight what specific material or broader changes make each respective film “better”. As ever, all of these examples are a matter of subjective opinion and my views are presented as such, not “fact”.
In 1968 the dilapidated freighter Corita hastily leaves Freetown to avoid a customs inspection. Captain Lansen (Eric Porter) has a cargo of dangerous explosives which he is smuggling so he can finally retire. His ship’s passengers also have reasons for leaving in a hurry. Dr. Webster (Nigel Stock), together with his daughter Unity (Suzanna leigh), is relocating due to his indiscretions with patients and illegal operations. Alcoholic pianist Harry Tyler (Tony Beckley) is aimlessly drifting from port to port. Eva Peters (Hildegard Knef) is fleeing from her husband with stolen bearer bonds which she intend to use to buy back her son from his evil clutches Caracas. Ricaldi (Ben Carruthers), a questionable lawyer, is pursuing Eva to retrieve the stolen bonds. First officer Hemmings (Neil McCallum) suggests that the ship should return to Freetown after an imminent Hurricane warning. The Captain asks the passengers and they are unanimous that they do not wish to return. However a mutinous crew, the bad weather and the instability of the explosives force everyone to abandon ship. The survivors find themselves adrift in a lifeboat surrounded by a strange carnivorous seaweed.
Jason Statham is an exemplar of the US mantra of “staying in your lane”. He makes action movies and occasionally strays into action comedies. His formula broadly works and is sufficiently lucrative to keep Mr. Statham employed. Therefore, if you watch a film in which he stars, you have a fairly good idea of what you’ll be getting. Of late, the criteria for his action vehicles have become more succinct. Jason Statham will play an innocuous character, such as a construction foreman or a bee keeper. Something terrible will subsequently befall another character who Mr. Statham has an emotional connection with in some capacity. He will subsequently hunt down those responsible and meet out death and violence. At some point the villain of the story will enquire as to how this innocuous person is so lethal. Research will then show that our Jason is in fact an ex-police officer/special forces operative/international assassin. There’s then a showdown and the villain dies. Job done.
The Light at the Edge of the World presented itself as an action movie upon its release in 1971. Based upon a story by Jules Verne, the Spanish American co-production was driven by its star Kirk Douglas, who curiously hired British director Kevin Billington to helm the project. This tale of a lighthouse keeper fighting a war of attrition against a group of pirates that have captured his island, was market as an adventure film ostensibly in the idiom of the authors previous works and as a pirate movie. MGM bought the rights to distribute the film in the UK on the misunderstanding that it was a family friendly production. It was not and remains so. They subsequently had to cut 15 minutes of violence and torture as well as an undercurrent of sexual assault to secure a suitable rating. Conversely, the US distributors received an arbitrary PG rating, despite the fact this is one of a handful of films that honestly depicts pirates as murderers, rapists and worse.
It’s an established action film trope. The fire team comprised of ex-military personnel, move in on their target. Only to have the tables turned by someone they don’t deem a threat. What makes it different in The Last Stand of Ellen Cole is a throwaway line of dialogue. The bested operative lies bleeding on the floor and the protagonists stands over them ready to finish them off. “Don’t, I have a cat” they feebly plead. For me that was the icing on the cake. The movie had already established it was taking the “same old, same old” and doing something different. Something fun, if taken in the right spirit. This scene tipped the balance and I embraced this film because it was being honest about what it is. This is a modern B movie that decides to give a very specific sub-genre a makeover. Furthermore, its clearly done with an affectionate wink, which is very different to sly wink. This isn’t deliberate self-knowing irony. Its just a film doing something different and possibly silly but it genuinely wants to have fun with it.
David Koepp is no stranger to genre cinema, having written the screenplay for such films as Jurassic Park, Spider-man and War of the Worlds. Where these titles are big budget, major studio productions, Cold Storage is a far more modest production with a smaller scope. Adapted from his own novel, the screenplay is by David Koepp and the film is directed by British film-maker Jonny Campbell. At first glance, Cold Storage seems a somewhat derivative science fiction horror film with a relatively modest budget, financed through a convoluted US and French co-production. Lurid green and red colours feature heavily in the marketing artwork and it is easy, after a cursory look, to write the film off as cheap, generic, direct-to-streaming filler. However, Cold Storage is prime example of why you should not judge a book by it’s cover, or in this case, a film by its posters and online advertising. It is in fact an amusing and fun endeavour that can fill an evening.
Despite being considered by many as an original story, The Abominable Snowman (1957) is in fact a remake of a made for television play, The Creature, that was originally broadcast in the UK in 1955. Hammer Films would often purchase the rights of popular TV programs and subsequently re-work them for mainstream, international cinema. Larger production budgets and fewer censorship restrictions allowed them to make their cinematic interpretations more lurid, thus commercially viable. Hence The Quatermass Xperiment, Quatermass II and Quatermass and the Pit were all given a big screen makeover and were commercially successful. The Abominable Snowman was written by acclaimed writer Nigel Kneale, who also wrote the original television drama and the aforementioned Quatermass trilogy. Although ostensibly marketed as a horror film this production is actually an interesting blend of psychological thriller and science fiction.
There are certain subjects that are notoriously uncinematic. These tend to be things that exist or are undertaken mainly in the mind, rather than expressed in an overtly physical way. Computing, science and mathematics are good examples. Writing code or working out complex equations does not immediately lend themselves to a visual medium such as cinema. Therefore, any film dealing with the world of corporate finance has its work cut out. Hence writer-director J C Chandor immediately deserves praise for making Margin Call, a film about the financial crash of 2008, as gripping and compelling as any political thriller. He does this by keeping the financial elements of the story to a minimum, choosing instead to focus upon those who have become aware of the imminent crisis and their reaction to it. However, the film remains a tough watch with regard to the some of the characters and their respective personal morality or lack there of.
The 1937 Hindenburg disaster has remained an enduring mystery over the years. The physical mechanics of how this airship filled with 7,000,000 cubic feet of hydrogen gas caught fire has been fully explored over the decades and there are now several extremely plausible theories as to how it may have happened. However, there remains the possibility of sabotage. As such an idea has more dramatic potential than mechanical failure, it was used as the central theme of the 1975 disaster movie The Hindenburg. Directed by Robert Wise, the screenplay by Nelson Gidding explores a German resistance against the Nazi regime. The airship is targeted as it is a powerful propaganda symbol for Hitler’s Germany. Sadly despite some interesting ideas, a strong cast and solid, old school optical effects, The Hindenburg is a slow and somewhat ponderous production. Although the final 20 minutes of the film recreate the infamous explosion meticulously, it doesn’t quite compensate for the uneventful, dialogue driven investigation of the previous 100 minutes.
On the Eastern Front in 1943, a German Tiger tank crew led by Lieutenant Philip Gerkens (David Schütter) is sent on a mission to rescue the missing officer Paul von Hardenburg (Tilman Strauss) from a top-secret bunker that is at risk of falling into enemy hands. As they make their way through an eerie no-man’s land, they have to avoid Russian armoured vehicles that seem to be aware of their mission. They also encounter a German unit taking punitive action against a peasant village, in reprisal for partisan activity in the area. The youngest crew member, Michel (Yoran Leicher), talks of the land being home to ghosts and spirits. As the tank penetrates further into contested territory the crew become increasingly disturbed by the uncanny nature of their mission and begin to fall prey to their own inner fears.
Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic novel has been adapted for cinema and television numerous times. Perhaps the most well known is the 1950 Disney version, starring Robert Newton as Long John Silver. His eye rolling performance and exaggerated West Country accent is credited with popularising the stereotypical form of “pirate speech" that has become the pop culture default. Although an enjoyable film, it does gloss over the more sinister aspects of both the source text and history, perpetuating the myth that pirates are just loveable scoundrels. Many subsequent adaptations have fallen into the same trap to a greater or lesser degree. However, that is not the case with the 1990 version of Treasure island, which was made for the TNT cable network and released theatrically outside of the US. This darker and notably more violent adaptation closely follows the source text and is widely considered the most faithful to the book.
The Planet of the Apes movie franchise took a radical change of course with its third entry in the series. The first two films were set in the future and benefited from high production values to help realise a post apocalyptic earth. However, due to a substantial reduction of budget, Escape from the Planet of the Apes uses a time travel plot device to bring the ape protagonists to present day Los Angeles (1971 in this case). The result is a film with a much smaller narrative scope. However, although it lacks the science fiction spectacle of its predecessors, it features an interesting satirical exploration of celebrity culture and ponders what it is like to be deemed an enemy of the state. As ever, Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter provide exceptional lead performances as the Chimpanzees Cornelius and Zira. Escape from the Planet of the Apes also captures the pop culture vibe of seventies America.
It is not unusual for Disney to change film titles when marketing them outside of the US. In 2016 they renamed the animated feature film Zootopia to Zootropolis in the UK and Europe to avoid trademark conflicts with other existing businesses. For example there is a Danish zoo which already holds the “Zootopia” name. Similarly, in Germany there is a children’s book which caused copyright conflict, which led to the film being released under the title Zoomania. Such changes, although practical for legal reasons, can sometimes cause a degree of confusion. Especially as there are numerous, low budget productions companies that go out of their way to produce similarly titled “mockbusters” whenever there are big, tentpole, releases. So for clarity, Zootopia 2 has been released in the UK as Zootropolis 2.
Stephen King’s dystopian story, The Running Man, was previously adapted very loosely in 1987, as a vehicle for Arnold Schwarzenegger. That version focused mainly on the “Battle Royale” element of the story and leaned heavily into Arnie’s personality, rather than the politics of the book. It also wasn’t well received by the author. Edgar Wright’s remake follows the source text a lot more closely and is far more interested in its political themes and wider social commentary. Furthermore, this version re-establishes the everyman quality of the hero of Ben Richards, rather than him being the muscle bound, ex-military hero as per Mr. Schwarzenegger’s prior interpretation. This time round, The Running Man uses a lot of the visual and narrative tropes of contemporary reality TV, making this forty three year old story very relevant to today’s viewers and couching the film in a style that is recognisable and accessible.
The Haunted Dolls House is a short film based on a story by M.R. James about a unique antique that is subject to supernatural phenomenon. Adapted by Stephen Gray and David Lilley, this is the third of three short films based upon James’ work that the pair have made. It stars Steven Dolton as Mr. Dillet, a collector of antique dolls houses, who acquires a bargain only to discover that it harbours a ghostly secret. Made on an extremely modest budget over the course of 2012 this clever, innovative and rather sinister adaptation is a fine example of short film creativity. It manages to offer a unique visual depiction of M.R. James’ classic story whilst capturing the unsettling quality of the author’s work. Like so many independently made short films it is clearly a labour of love, made with modest resources. It succinctly captures the spirit of the author’s work and is both innovative and rewarding.
A lot of people may know Luke Evans from the live action version of Beauty and the Beast or Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit trilogy. With his matinee idol good looks, charming Welsh demeanour and his “smoky” tenor singing voice, he projects a sense of old school stardom. Which brings us to No One Lives; a film which is a radical departure from his previous work. His performance is disconcerting to say the least and the film is somewhat unhinged. Directed by Ryuhei Kitamura, who made an interesting adaptation of Clive Barker’s The Midnight Meat Train, this cinematic outing is similarly replete with robust shocks and gore. There are some interesting ideas about the nature of violence, Stockholm Syndrome and whether one should deny or embrace one’s nature. However, these are ultimately minor asides. Philosophical musings in between bouts of surprisingly striking unpleasantness.
In the near future, Kepler 822, a research and drilling facility located at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, suffers a sudden and catastrophic structural failure. There are only six survivors. Mechanical engineer Norah Price (Kristen Stewart), Captain Lucien (Vincent Cassel), biologist Emily Haversham (Jessica Henwick), engineer Liam Smith (John Gallagher Jr.) and crew members Rodrigo (Mamoudou Athie) and Paul (T.J. Miller). As all the functional escape pods have been used and they are unable to contact the surface, the Captain suggests using pressurized suits to walk one mile across the ocean floor to the Roebuck 641 drill installation. There they will find more escape pods. However, it soon becomes apparent that the disaster was not caused by an undersea earthquake and that they are not alone as they make their journey.
One of the most common objections raised regarding the Jurassic Park/Jurassic World franchise is that the films are specifically made to obtain a PG-13 rating from the Motion Picture Association, for purely commercial reasons. Hence, in all films, there is little on screen violence and the dinosaurs are mainly portrayed as a threat and a means of providing jump scares. When a character is killed by a dinosaur it usually happens off screen, is obscured by something else in frame, or is shown in long shot with very little detail. The realities of being eaten alive by a predator are conspicuously absent. Hence, audiences looking for films featuring more graphic dinosaur attacks, have not been well catered for apart from some minor direct-to-video titles. Primitive War finally fills this gap in the market with a frenetic genre mashup that strives to punch above is budgetary weight.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Apollo 18 (2011)
A fundamental requirement of cinema is that the audience suspends their sense of disbelief. Anything that breaks this will immediately has a negative impact upon the viewing experience. There are many things can severe this connection but the two most common seem to be obvious plot holes and Scooby Doo behaviour IE “Let’s split up…”. If these are the result of simply poor film making, then they can perhaps be forgiven. Every director has to learn their craft. However, if these two factors are present by design, then that is an unpardonable sin. Assuming that your audience is stupid, is insulting and the worse sort of hypocrisy.
A fundamental requirement of cinema is that the audience suspends their sense of disbelief. Anything that breaks this will immediately has a negative impact upon the viewing experience. There are many things can severe this connection but the two most common seem to be obvious plot holes and Scooby Doo behaviour IE “Let’s split up…”. If these are the result of simply poor film making, then they can perhaps be forgiven. Every director has to learn their craft. However, if these two factors are present by design, then that is an unpardonable sin. Assuming that your audience is stupid, is insulting and the worse sort of hypocrisy.
Apollo 18 has a strong start for a movie built around the found footage concept. It plays very nicely into the current appetite for conspiracy theories. The first thirty minutes where we meet the cast and learn of their covert mission to place monitoring equipment on the moon, is credible and intriguing. The cold war setting and the post-Watergate back drop do a lot to fuel the narrative. During this initial third of the movie, Apollo 18 plays more like a political thriller rather than a sci-fi shocker. But then director Gonzalo Lopez-Gallego goes and jumps the shark and all the previous good work goes out the window. It’s a common problem with contemporary film making. I remember having exactly the same thoughts when I saw Paranormal Activity.
After a string of anomalous events a key character makes the most illogical leap of thought and as a result the credibility simply melts away. You see, I take the attitude that NASA astronauts are trained professional, hand picked because of their skills and analytical mindset. Maintaining rational under extreme circumstances must surely feature in their training. So, I simply do not buy into the idea that, because they’ve found an abandoned Russian Lunar Module, a dead cosmonaut, picked up radio interference, had the flag that they planted removed and found some unidentified marking in the lunar soil, naturally concluded that it must be extraterrestrials. Scientists simply do not think this way.
The rest of the film is arbitrary and derivative bug hunt, with obviously telegraphed jumps. The conclusion involving complicit government agencies is predictable and uninspired. This is a shame because the film is very well made from a technical perspective. But once again we have a production that demonstrates a clear understanding of visuals but not plot construction. Furthermore, Apollo 18 also seems to forget that it is a found footage movie, with scenes and dialogue that are contrived to be more cinematic and come dangerously close to breaking the fourth wall.
With reference to the plot holes, I unlike other critics was not particularly bothered about the nebulous nature of the alien life forms featured in the film. I am happy to watch movies without every answer being given to me on a plate. Life is seldom clear cut, is it? However, I do balk at the fundamental flaw that permeates Apollo 18. The film comprises of 16 mm & 35 mm cine footage along with video material from external cameras. Now the latter may well have been broadcasted and thus been received and recorded back on earth. But the cine film had to be collected and developed. Does the film not hinge on the premise that no mission has subsequently returned to the moon? Also, the Russian Lunar Module and US Command module where both destroyed, therefore eliminating any footage they may have had. No, this is simply bad screen writing and brings me neatly full circle to my original point that I started with.
Mainstream films are easy to recommend to people. They’re usually formulaic, work within clear parameters and they’re not controversial. Most people, when viewing such film on someone else’s suggestion, are left with a fairly simply choice. Did they like it or not? Whatever the outcome, no feathers are ruffled. No one looks at you askance afterwards and says “why the hell did you think I’d like that piece of shit”? If something like this happens, then you have clearly not recommended a mainstream film. Perhaps you’ve suggested something that’s a little more of an acquired taste. Something niche, from a very specific sub-genre. Which brings me neatly to Blazing Magnum AKA Strange Shadows in an Empty Room (1976). The US title gives the impression that this film is a hard boiled cop thriller, like so many others that followed in the wake of Dirty Harry. But there’s a clue in the European title. Yes, this movie has more than just a whiff of a giallo about it.
In the year 1860, Baron Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) faces execution by guillotine for the murders perpetrated by the creature he created. With the assistance of a hunchback named Karl (Oscar Quitak) he avoids death by beheading the priest who came to give him the last rites. The priest’s body is then mistakenly buried by the authorities. Three years later, Victor, now using the name Doctor Stein, has established himself as a prosperous physician in Karlsbrück, serving both affluent patients and the poor at a paupers’ hospital. Hans Kleve (Francis Matthews), a junior member of the medical council, recognises Victor and being an admirer, seeks to become his apprentice. Victor and Hans then undertake an experiment to transplant Karl’s living brain into a new, more refined body, rather than a grotesque monstrosity the Baron has previously made. Karl is eager to have a new healthy body, especially after encountering Margaret Conrad (Eunice Gayson), the charming new assistant at the hospital.
This movie questionnaire was originally created by Alexander from Cinemaniac Reviews. Sadly, I believe that website is now defunct. However, that doesn’t in anyway invalidate the questionnaire itself which has some very good questions about your relationship with cinema. Some of my answers to the questions posed are about films that I enjoy, as opposed to those that are considered cinematic classics. However, I have answered some questions more seriously than others, especially the one about undeserving recipients of the Best Film Oscar. I struggled with a couple of questions because I no longer go the cinema as frequently as I did 10 years ago. This is mainly due to the fact that a lot of the films I find interesting end up going straight to streaming after very brief theatrical releases. Some do not even get shown in cinemas. Hence I view far more at home. But I digress. On with the questions and answers. Feel free to comment below and share your views.
Exit 8 is a sophisticated and claustrophobic psychological thriller directed by Genki Kawamura, which skilfully transforms a minimalist indie walking-simulator game into a cinematic existential enigma. This overtly metaphorical film renders the repetitive nature and drudgery of modern working life into a physical environment in which the lead character is trapped and must find a way out. A random, brutal maze filled with an atmosphere of indifference to the lab rats that find themselves trapped within. Or is it their personal guilt that has put them there? Genki Kawamura’s psychological mystery draws inspiration from the Japanese video game of the same name, as well as from the cyclical nature of Groundhog Day and endless corridors of the Overlook Hotel in Kubrick’s The Shining. Although there are jump scares and some ghoulish imagery, this is not a horror vehicle. Instead this is a disquieting psychological drama with a strong sense of morality.
I wrote a post 18 month’s ago regarding whether a directors cut of a film is superior by default to the version originally shown in cinemas. Obviously the answer was no and I then went on to give three examples of films where I think the theatrical release is better to lengthier or substantially altered director’s cut that was subsequently made available at a later date. This time round in this post, I would like to do the complete opposite. I shall provide some examples of films that I think are significantly improved by a longer cut or a substantially, restructured edit. Note some of these examples are technically not a “director’s cuts” but a restoration or reconstruction of the director’s original vision. I shall endeavour to highlight what specific material or broader changes make each respective film “better”. As ever, all of these examples are a matter of subjective opinion and my views are presented as such, not “fact”.
In 1968 the dilapidated freighter Corita hastily leaves Freetown to avoid a customs inspection. Captain Lansen (Eric Porter) has a cargo of dangerous explosives which he is smuggling so he can finally retire. His ship’s passengers also have reasons for leaving in a hurry. Dr. Webster (Nigel Stock), together with his daughter Unity (Suzanna leigh), is relocating due to his indiscretions with patients and illegal operations. Alcoholic pianist Harry Tyler (Tony Beckley) is aimlessly drifting from port to port. Eva Peters (Hildegard Knef) is fleeing from her husband with stolen bearer bonds which she intend to use to buy back her son from his evil clutches Caracas. Ricaldi (Ben Carruthers), a questionable lawyer, is pursuing Eva to retrieve the stolen bonds. First officer Hemmings (Neil McCallum) suggests that the ship should return to Freetown after an imminent Hurricane warning. The Captain asks the passengers and they are unanimous that they do not wish to return. However a mutinous crew, the bad weather and the instability of the explosives force everyone to abandon ship. The survivors find themselves adrift in a lifeboat surrounded by a strange carnivorous seaweed.
Jason Statham is an exemplar of the US mantra of “staying in your lane”. He makes action movies and occasionally strays into action comedies. His formula broadly works and is sufficiently lucrative to keep Mr. Statham employed. Therefore, if you watch a film in which he stars, you have a fairly good idea of what you’ll be getting. Of late, the criteria for his action vehicles have become more succinct. Jason Statham will play an innocuous character, such as a construction foreman or a bee keeper. Something terrible will subsequently befall another character who Mr. Statham has an emotional connection with in some capacity. He will subsequently hunt down those responsible and meet out death and violence. At some point the villain of the story will enquire as to how this innocuous person is so lethal. Research will then show that our Jason is in fact an ex-police officer/special forces operative/international assassin. There’s then a showdown and the villain dies. Job done.
The Light at the Edge of the World presented itself as an action movie upon its release in 1971. Based upon a story by Jules Verne, the Spanish American co-production was driven by its star Kirk Douglas, who curiously hired British director Kevin Billington to helm the project. This tale of a lighthouse keeper fighting a war of attrition against a group of pirates that have captured his island, was market as an adventure film ostensibly in the idiom of the authors previous works and as a pirate movie. MGM bought the rights to distribute the film in the UK on the misunderstanding that it was a family friendly production. It was not and remains so. They subsequently had to cut 15 minutes of violence and torture as well as an undercurrent of sexual assault to secure a suitable rating. Conversely, the US distributors received an arbitrary PG rating, despite the fact this is one of a handful of films that honestly depicts pirates as murderers, rapists and worse.
It’s an established action film trope. The fire team comprised of ex-military personnel, move in on their target. Only to have the tables turned by someone they don’t deem a threat. What makes it different in The Last Stand of Ellen Cole is a throwaway line of dialogue. The bested operative lies bleeding on the floor and the protagonists stands over them ready to finish them off. “Don’t, I have a cat” they feebly plead. For me that was the icing on the cake. The movie had already established it was taking the “same old, same old” and doing something different. Something fun, if taken in the right spirit. This scene tipped the balance and I embraced this film because it was being honest about what it is. This is a modern B movie that decides to give a very specific sub-genre a makeover. Furthermore, its clearly done with an affectionate wink, which is very different to sly wink. This isn’t deliberate self-knowing irony. Its just a film doing something different and possibly silly but it genuinely wants to have fun with it.
David Koepp is no stranger to genre cinema, having written the screenplay for such films as Jurassic Park, Spider-man and War of the Worlds. Where these titles are big budget, major studio productions, Cold Storage is a far more modest production with a smaller scope. Adapted from his own novel, the screenplay is by David Koepp and the film is directed by British film-maker Jonny Campbell. At first glance, Cold Storage seems a somewhat derivative science fiction horror film with a relatively modest budget, financed through a convoluted US and French co-production. Lurid green and red colours feature heavily in the marketing artwork and it is easy, after a cursory look, to write the film off as cheap, generic, direct-to-streaming filler. However, Cold Storage is prime example of why you should not judge a book by it’s cover, or in this case, a film by its posters and online advertising. It is in fact an amusing and fun endeavour that can fill an evening.
Despite being considered by many as an original story, The Abominable Snowman (1957) is in fact a remake of a made for television play, The Creature, that was originally broadcast in the UK in 1955. Hammer Films would often purchase the rights of popular TV programs and subsequently re-work them for mainstream, international cinema. Larger production budgets and fewer censorship restrictions allowed them to make their cinematic interpretations more lurid, thus commercially viable. Hence The Quatermass Xperiment, Quatermass II and Quatermass and the Pit were all given a big screen makeover and were commercially successful. The Abominable Snowman was written by acclaimed writer Nigel Kneale, who also wrote the original television drama and the aforementioned Quatermass trilogy. Although ostensibly marketed as a horror film this production is actually an interesting blend of psychological thriller and science fiction.
There are certain subjects that are notoriously uncinematic. These tend to be things that exist or are undertaken mainly in the mind, rather than expressed in an overtly physical way. Computing, science and mathematics are good examples. Writing code or working out complex equations does not immediately lend themselves to a visual medium such as cinema. Therefore, any film dealing with the world of corporate finance has its work cut out. Hence writer-director J C Chandor immediately deserves praise for making Margin Call, a film about the financial crash of 2008, as gripping and compelling as any political thriller. He does this by keeping the financial elements of the story to a minimum, choosing instead to focus upon those who have become aware of the imminent crisis and their reaction to it. However, the film remains a tough watch with regard to the some of the characters and their respective personal morality or lack there of.
The 1937 Hindenburg disaster has remained an enduring mystery over the years. The physical mechanics of how this airship filled with 7,000,000 cubic feet of hydrogen gas caught fire has been fully explored over the decades and there are now several extremely plausible theories as to how it may have happened. However, there remains the possibility of sabotage. As such an idea has more dramatic potential than mechanical failure, it was used as the central theme of the 1975 disaster movie The Hindenburg. Directed by Robert Wise, the screenplay by Nelson Gidding explores a German resistance against the Nazi regime. The airship is targeted as it is a powerful propaganda symbol for Hitler’s Germany. Sadly despite some interesting ideas, a strong cast and solid, old school optical effects, The Hindenburg is a slow and somewhat ponderous production. Although the final 20 minutes of the film recreate the infamous explosion meticulously, it doesn’t quite compensate for the uneventful, dialogue driven investigation of the previous 100 minutes.
On the Eastern Front in 1943, a German Tiger tank crew led by Lieutenant Philip Gerkens (David Schütter) is sent on a mission to rescue the missing officer Paul von Hardenburg (Tilman Strauss) from a top-secret bunker that is at risk of falling into enemy hands. As they make their way through an eerie no-man’s land, they have to avoid Russian armoured vehicles that seem to be aware of their mission. They also encounter a German unit taking punitive action against a peasant village, in reprisal for partisan activity in the area. The youngest crew member, Michel (Yoran Leicher), talks of the land being home to ghosts and spirits. As the tank penetrates further into contested territory the crew become increasingly disturbed by the uncanny nature of their mission and begin to fall prey to their own inner fears.
Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic novel has been adapted for cinema and television numerous times. Perhaps the most well known is the 1950 Disney version, starring Robert Newton as Long John Silver. His eye rolling performance and exaggerated West Country accent is credited with popularising the stereotypical form of “pirate speech" that has become the pop culture default. Although an enjoyable film, it does gloss over the more sinister aspects of both the source text and history, perpetuating the myth that pirates are just loveable scoundrels. Many subsequent adaptations have fallen into the same trap to a greater or lesser degree. However, that is not the case with the 1990 version of Treasure island, which was made for the TNT cable network and released theatrically outside of the US. This darker and notably more violent adaptation closely follows the source text and is widely considered the most faithful to the book.
The Planet of the Apes movie franchise took a radical change of course with its third entry in the series. The first two films were set in the future and benefited from high production values to help realise a post apocalyptic earth. However, due to a substantial reduction of budget, Escape from the Planet of the Apes uses a time travel plot device to bring the ape protagonists to present day Los Angeles (1971 in this case). The result is a film with a much smaller narrative scope. However, although it lacks the science fiction spectacle of its predecessors, it features an interesting satirical exploration of celebrity culture and ponders what it is like to be deemed an enemy of the state. As ever, Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter provide exceptional lead performances as the Chimpanzees Cornelius and Zira. Escape from the Planet of the Apes also captures the pop culture vibe of seventies America.
It is not unusual for Disney to change film titles when marketing them outside of the US. In 2016 they renamed the animated feature film Zootopia to Zootropolis in the UK and Europe to avoid trademark conflicts with other existing businesses. For example there is a Danish zoo which already holds the “Zootopia” name. Similarly, in Germany there is a children’s book which caused copyright conflict, which led to the film being released under the title Zoomania. Such changes, although practical for legal reasons, can sometimes cause a degree of confusion. Especially as there are numerous, low budget productions companies that go out of their way to produce similarly titled “mockbusters” whenever there are big, tentpole, releases. So for clarity, Zootopia 2 has been released in the UK as Zootropolis 2.
Stephen King’s dystopian story, The Running Man, was previously adapted very loosely in 1987, as a vehicle for Arnold Schwarzenegger. That version focused mainly on the “Battle Royale” element of the story and leaned heavily into Arnie’s personality, rather than the politics of the book. It also wasn’t well received by the author. Edgar Wright’s remake follows the source text a lot more closely and is far more interested in its political themes and wider social commentary. Furthermore, this version re-establishes the everyman quality of the hero of Ben Richards, rather than him being the muscle bound, ex-military hero as per Mr. Schwarzenegger’s prior interpretation. This time round, The Running Man uses a lot of the visual and narrative tropes of contemporary reality TV, making this forty three year old story very relevant to today’s viewers and couching the film in a style that is recognisable and accessible.
The Haunted Dolls House is a short film based on a story by M.R. James about a unique antique that is subject to supernatural phenomenon. Adapted by Stephen Gray and David Lilley, this is the third of three short films based upon James’ work that the pair have made. It stars Steven Dolton as Mr. Dillet, a collector of antique dolls houses, who acquires a bargain only to discover that it harbours a ghostly secret. Made on an extremely modest budget over the course of 2012 this clever, innovative and rather sinister adaptation is a fine example of short film creativity. It manages to offer a unique visual depiction of M.R. James’ classic story whilst capturing the unsettling quality of the author’s work. Like so many independently made short films it is clearly a labour of love, made with modest resources. It succinctly captures the spirit of the author’s work and is both innovative and rewarding.
A lot of people may know Luke Evans from the live action version of Beauty and the Beast or Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit trilogy. With his matinee idol good looks, charming Welsh demeanour and his “smoky” tenor singing voice, he projects a sense of old school stardom. Which brings us to No One Lives; a film which is a radical departure from his previous work. His performance is disconcerting to say the least and the film is somewhat unhinged. Directed by Ryuhei Kitamura, who made an interesting adaptation of Clive Barker’s The Midnight Meat Train, this cinematic outing is similarly replete with robust shocks and gore. There are some interesting ideas about the nature of violence, Stockholm Syndrome and whether one should deny or embrace one’s nature. However, these are ultimately minor asides. Philosophical musings in between bouts of surprisingly striking unpleasantness.
In the near future, Kepler 822, a research and drilling facility located at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, suffers a sudden and catastrophic structural failure. There are only six survivors. Mechanical engineer Norah Price (Kristen Stewart), Captain Lucien (Vincent Cassel), biologist Emily Haversham (Jessica Henwick), engineer Liam Smith (John Gallagher Jr.) and crew members Rodrigo (Mamoudou Athie) and Paul (T.J. Miller). As all the functional escape pods have been used and they are unable to contact the surface, the Captain suggests using pressurized suits to walk one mile across the ocean floor to the Roebuck 641 drill installation. There they will find more escape pods. However, it soon becomes apparent that the disaster was not caused by an undersea earthquake and that they are not alone as they make their journey.
One of the most common objections raised regarding the Jurassic Park/Jurassic World franchise is that the films are specifically made to obtain a PG-13 rating from the Motion Picture Association, for purely commercial reasons. Hence, in all films, there is little on screen violence and the dinosaurs are mainly portrayed as a threat and a means of providing jump scares. When a character is killed by a dinosaur it usually happens off screen, is obscured by something else in frame, or is shown in long shot with very little detail. The realities of being eaten alive by a predator are conspicuously absent. Hence, audiences looking for films featuring more graphic dinosaur attacks, have not been well catered for apart from some minor direct-to-video titles. Primitive War finally fills this gap in the market with a frenetic genre mashup that strives to punch above is budgetary weight.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Godzilla (2014)
Gareth Edwards directing debut Monsters, was a clever, subtle and genuinely moving human drama that just happened to be set against the background of alien lifeforms in a quarantine zone. He also managed to imbue the monsters of the title with a sense of depth. They were intriguing with their bio-luminescent communication and curious vocalisations. They were not simply an arbitrary MacGuffin and hinted at something far more complex. I was therefore very surprised and pleased that he has managed to maintain these qualities in his second feature film Godzilla. Despite being a massive studio undertaking his reboot of the classic franchise has a depth of soul that you seldom find in such mainstream material.
Gareth Edwards directing debut Monsters, was a clever, subtle and genuinely moving human drama that just happened to be set against the background of alien lifeforms in a quarantine zone. He also managed to imbue the monsters of the title with a sense of depth. They were intriguing with their bio-luminescent communication and curious vocalisations. They were not simply an arbitrary MacGuffin and hinted at something far more complex. I was therefore very surprised and pleased that he has managed to maintain these qualities in his second feature film Godzilla. Despite being a massive studio undertaking his reboot of the classic franchise has a depth of soul that you seldom find in such mainstream material.
Ishirō Honda's original Godzilla movie in its uncut Japanese format is a tragic and melancholic tale, as well as a clever metaphor for the nuclear age. Garth Edwards maintain this theme but also adds an environmental element, as well as a philosophical concept with Godzilla being a "force of nature". This is more than an exercise in spectacle and the movie has a genuine sense of awe as it shows us an apocalypse brought about by the natural world, that we are powerless to deal with. The monsters in this movie are more than just caricatures. They are living, breathing entities with complex lifecycles. They are also very much part of the world, a theme that the author Clive Barker was always keen to explore.
The human elements of Godzilla are also handled in a different fashion to the standard formula. We are not saddled with heroes that have all the answers and who can miraculously save the world. As with Monsters there is a domestic drama being played out between Joe Brody (Bryan Cranston) a scientist grieving for his dead wife and his son Lieutenant Ford Brody (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) of the USN. Ford has to constantly bail out his Father from his conspiracy theory driven misadventures. This in turn places a strain on his own domestic relations with his Wife Elle Brody (Elizabeth Olsen) and their son. These simple narrative themes, work well against the catastrophic big picture.
Steven Spielberg has always been good at finding the right balance between the everyday and the incredible, both visually and thematically. There are traces of that approach here in Gareth Edwards directorial style. He elects to be extremely measured in what he shows, very much like Jaws, until the third act. This is a decision that I thoroughly approve of, although it will not be to everyone's liking. Some people have already complained that there is not enough Godzilla in the movie. However, I suspect they are more fans of spectacle and not necessarily interested in the director’s wider vision. I would also argue that the English dialogue version of many of the original Godzilla movies often robbed them of the finer plot points and simply focused on man-in-suit action, thus changing expectations of the US market.
Visually Godzilla is an outstanding experience. Seldom has such destruction been depicted with such gravitas. The movie takes a bleak tone so don't go looking for any witty quips or banter. It’s all played very straight faced. The visual effects give Godzilla an immense sense of scale as well as the M.U.T.O.S. This is one occasion when 3D does help the proceedings. There is also a tangible sense of the human cost to all the mayhem, without resorting to cliché. Furthermore, composer Alexandre Desplat has managed to craft the right sort of soundtrack for the proceedings. It has clear thematic influences from the original Japanese movies and is suitable sombre. Pretty much every aspect of this production seems to have been thought about in an intelligent manner.
Godzilla is a rare beast these days, in so far as it’s a blockbuster with a far greater amount of thought behind it. Not everything works. Sometimes the script follows the less interesting characters about and a few of them drop out of the proceedings without logical real reason. But the movie maintains a sense of integrity about its subject matter. Furthermore, considering that director Gareth Edwards has managed to produce a movie of this type, via the studio system and still managed to stamp his personal style upon it, is a major achievement. This is one of those rare times where I eagerly await a sequel, as long as it maintains the high standard that has been established by the first instalment.
Mainstream films are easy to recommend to people. They’re usually formulaic, work within clear parameters and they’re not controversial. Most people, when viewing such film on someone else’s suggestion, are left with a fairly simply choice. Did they like it or not? Whatever the outcome, no feathers are ruffled. No one looks at you askance afterwards and says “why the hell did you think I’d like that piece of shit”? If something like this happens, then you have clearly not recommended a mainstream film. Perhaps you’ve suggested something that’s a little more of an acquired taste. Something niche, from a very specific sub-genre. Which brings me neatly to Blazing Magnum AKA Strange Shadows in an Empty Room (1976). The US title gives the impression that this film is a hard boiled cop thriller, like so many others that followed in the wake of Dirty Harry. But there’s a clue in the European title. Yes, this movie has more than just a whiff of a giallo about it.
In the year 1860, Baron Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) faces execution by guillotine for the murders perpetrated by the creature he created. With the assistance of a hunchback named Karl (Oscar Quitak) he avoids death by beheading the priest who came to give him the last rites. The priest’s body is then mistakenly buried by the authorities. Three years later, Victor, now using the name Doctor Stein, has established himself as a prosperous physician in Karlsbrück, serving both affluent patients and the poor at a paupers’ hospital. Hans Kleve (Francis Matthews), a junior member of the medical council, recognises Victor and being an admirer, seeks to become his apprentice. Victor and Hans then undertake an experiment to transplant Karl’s living brain into a new, more refined body, rather than a grotesque monstrosity the Baron has previously made. Karl is eager to have a new healthy body, especially after encountering Margaret Conrad (Eunice Gayson), the charming new assistant at the hospital.
This movie questionnaire was originally created by Alexander from Cinemaniac Reviews. Sadly, I believe that website is now defunct. However, that doesn’t in anyway invalidate the questionnaire itself which has some very good questions about your relationship with cinema. Some of my answers to the questions posed are about films that I enjoy, as opposed to those that are considered cinematic classics. However, I have answered some questions more seriously than others, especially the one about undeserving recipients of the Best Film Oscar. I struggled with a couple of questions because I no longer go the cinema as frequently as I did 10 years ago. This is mainly due to the fact that a lot of the films I find interesting end up going straight to streaming after very brief theatrical releases. Some do not even get shown in cinemas. Hence I view far more at home. But I digress. On with the questions and answers. Feel free to comment below and share your views.
Exit 8 is a sophisticated and claustrophobic psychological thriller directed by Genki Kawamura, which skilfully transforms a minimalist indie walking-simulator game into a cinematic existential enigma. This overtly metaphorical film renders the repetitive nature and drudgery of modern working life into a physical environment in which the lead character is trapped and must find a way out. A random, brutal maze filled with an atmosphere of indifference to the lab rats that find themselves trapped within. Or is it their personal guilt that has put them there? Genki Kawamura’s psychological mystery draws inspiration from the Japanese video game of the same name, as well as from the cyclical nature of Groundhog Day and endless corridors of the Overlook Hotel in Kubrick’s The Shining. Although there are jump scares and some ghoulish imagery, this is not a horror vehicle. Instead this is a disquieting psychological drama with a strong sense of morality.
I wrote a post 18 month’s ago regarding whether a directors cut of a film is superior by default to the version originally shown in cinemas. Obviously the answer was no and I then went on to give three examples of films where I think the theatrical release is better to lengthier or substantially altered director’s cut that was subsequently made available at a later date. This time round in this post, I would like to do the complete opposite. I shall provide some examples of films that I think are significantly improved by a longer cut or a substantially, restructured edit. Note some of these examples are technically not a “director’s cuts” but a restoration or reconstruction of the director’s original vision. I shall endeavour to highlight what specific material or broader changes make each respective film “better”. As ever, all of these examples are a matter of subjective opinion and my views are presented as such, not “fact”.
In 1968 the dilapidated freighter Corita hastily leaves Freetown to avoid a customs inspection. Captain Lansen (Eric Porter) has a cargo of dangerous explosives which he is smuggling so he can finally retire. His ship’s passengers also have reasons for leaving in a hurry. Dr. Webster (Nigel Stock), together with his daughter Unity (Suzanna leigh), is relocating due to his indiscretions with patients and illegal operations. Alcoholic pianist Harry Tyler (Tony Beckley) is aimlessly drifting from port to port. Eva Peters (Hildegard Knef) is fleeing from her husband with stolen bearer bonds which she intend to use to buy back her son from his evil clutches Caracas. Ricaldi (Ben Carruthers), a questionable lawyer, is pursuing Eva to retrieve the stolen bonds. First officer Hemmings (Neil McCallum) suggests that the ship should return to Freetown after an imminent Hurricane warning. The Captain asks the passengers and they are unanimous that they do not wish to return. However a mutinous crew, the bad weather and the instability of the explosives force everyone to abandon ship. The survivors find themselves adrift in a lifeboat surrounded by a strange carnivorous seaweed.
Jason Statham is an exemplar of the US mantra of “staying in your lane”. He makes action movies and occasionally strays into action comedies. His formula broadly works and is sufficiently lucrative to keep Mr. Statham employed. Therefore, if you watch a film in which he stars, you have a fairly good idea of what you’ll be getting. Of late, the criteria for his action vehicles have become more succinct. Jason Statham will play an innocuous character, such as a construction foreman or a bee keeper. Something terrible will subsequently befall another character who Mr. Statham has an emotional connection with in some capacity. He will subsequently hunt down those responsible and meet out death and violence. At some point the villain of the story will enquire as to how this innocuous person is so lethal. Research will then show that our Jason is in fact an ex-police officer/special forces operative/international assassin. There’s then a showdown and the villain dies. Job done.
The Light at the Edge of the World presented itself as an action movie upon its release in 1971. Based upon a story by Jules Verne, the Spanish American co-production was driven by its star Kirk Douglas, who curiously hired British director Kevin Billington to helm the project. This tale of a lighthouse keeper fighting a war of attrition against a group of pirates that have captured his island, was market as an adventure film ostensibly in the idiom of the authors previous works and as a pirate movie. MGM bought the rights to distribute the film in the UK on the misunderstanding that it was a family friendly production. It was not and remains so. They subsequently had to cut 15 minutes of violence and torture as well as an undercurrent of sexual assault to secure a suitable rating. Conversely, the US distributors received an arbitrary PG rating, despite the fact this is one of a handful of films that honestly depicts pirates as murderers, rapists and worse.
It’s an established action film trope. The fire team comprised of ex-military personnel, move in on their target. Only to have the tables turned by someone they don’t deem a threat. What makes it different in The Last Stand of Ellen Cole is a throwaway line of dialogue. The bested operative lies bleeding on the floor and the protagonists stands over them ready to finish them off. “Don’t, I have a cat” they feebly plead. For me that was the icing on the cake. The movie had already established it was taking the “same old, same old” and doing something different. Something fun, if taken in the right spirit. This scene tipped the balance and I embraced this film because it was being honest about what it is. This is a modern B movie that decides to give a very specific sub-genre a makeover. Furthermore, its clearly done with an affectionate wink, which is very different to sly wink. This isn’t deliberate self-knowing irony. Its just a film doing something different and possibly silly but it genuinely wants to have fun with it.
David Koepp is no stranger to genre cinema, having written the screenplay for such films as Jurassic Park, Spider-man and War of the Worlds. Where these titles are big budget, major studio productions, Cold Storage is a far more modest production with a smaller scope. Adapted from his own novel, the screenplay is by David Koepp and the film is directed by British film-maker Jonny Campbell. At first glance, Cold Storage seems a somewhat derivative science fiction horror film with a relatively modest budget, financed through a convoluted US and French co-production. Lurid green and red colours feature heavily in the marketing artwork and it is easy, after a cursory look, to write the film off as cheap, generic, direct-to-streaming filler. However, Cold Storage is prime example of why you should not judge a book by it’s cover, or in this case, a film by its posters and online advertising. It is in fact an amusing and fun endeavour that can fill an evening.
Despite being considered by many as an original story, The Abominable Snowman (1957) is in fact a remake of a made for television play, The Creature, that was originally broadcast in the UK in 1955. Hammer Films would often purchase the rights of popular TV programs and subsequently re-work them for mainstream, international cinema. Larger production budgets and fewer censorship restrictions allowed them to make their cinematic interpretations more lurid, thus commercially viable. Hence The Quatermass Xperiment, Quatermass II and Quatermass and the Pit were all given a big screen makeover and were commercially successful. The Abominable Snowman was written by acclaimed writer Nigel Kneale, who also wrote the original television drama and the aforementioned Quatermass trilogy. Although ostensibly marketed as a horror film this production is actually an interesting blend of psychological thriller and science fiction.
There are certain subjects that are notoriously uncinematic. These tend to be things that exist or are undertaken mainly in the mind, rather than expressed in an overtly physical way. Computing, science and mathematics are good examples. Writing code or working out complex equations does not immediately lend themselves to a visual medium such as cinema. Therefore, any film dealing with the world of corporate finance has its work cut out. Hence writer-director J C Chandor immediately deserves praise for making Margin Call, a film about the financial crash of 2008, as gripping and compelling as any political thriller. He does this by keeping the financial elements of the story to a minimum, choosing instead to focus upon those who have become aware of the imminent crisis and their reaction to it. However, the film remains a tough watch with regard to the some of the characters and their respective personal morality or lack there of.
The 1937 Hindenburg disaster has remained an enduring mystery over the years. The physical mechanics of how this airship filled with 7,000,000 cubic feet of hydrogen gas caught fire has been fully explored over the decades and there are now several extremely plausible theories as to how it may have happened. However, there remains the possibility of sabotage. As such an idea has more dramatic potential than mechanical failure, it was used as the central theme of the 1975 disaster movie The Hindenburg. Directed by Robert Wise, the screenplay by Nelson Gidding explores a German resistance against the Nazi regime. The airship is targeted as it is a powerful propaganda symbol for Hitler’s Germany. Sadly despite some interesting ideas, a strong cast and solid, old school optical effects, The Hindenburg is a slow and somewhat ponderous production. Although the final 20 minutes of the film recreate the infamous explosion meticulously, it doesn’t quite compensate for the uneventful, dialogue driven investigation of the previous 100 minutes.
On the Eastern Front in 1943, a German Tiger tank crew led by Lieutenant Philip Gerkens (David Schütter) is sent on a mission to rescue the missing officer Paul von Hardenburg (Tilman Strauss) from a top-secret bunker that is at risk of falling into enemy hands. As they make their way through an eerie no-man’s land, they have to avoid Russian armoured vehicles that seem to be aware of their mission. They also encounter a German unit taking punitive action against a peasant village, in reprisal for partisan activity in the area. The youngest crew member, Michel (Yoran Leicher), talks of the land being home to ghosts and spirits. As the tank penetrates further into contested territory the crew become increasingly disturbed by the uncanny nature of their mission and begin to fall prey to their own inner fears.
Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic novel has been adapted for cinema and television numerous times. Perhaps the most well known is the 1950 Disney version, starring Robert Newton as Long John Silver. His eye rolling performance and exaggerated West Country accent is credited with popularising the stereotypical form of “pirate speech" that has become the pop culture default. Although an enjoyable film, it does gloss over the more sinister aspects of both the source text and history, perpetuating the myth that pirates are just loveable scoundrels. Many subsequent adaptations have fallen into the same trap to a greater or lesser degree. However, that is not the case with the 1990 version of Treasure island, which was made for the TNT cable network and released theatrically outside of the US. This darker and notably more violent adaptation closely follows the source text and is widely considered the most faithful to the book.
The Planet of the Apes movie franchise took a radical change of course with its third entry in the series. The first two films were set in the future and benefited from high production values to help realise a post apocalyptic earth. However, due to a substantial reduction of budget, Escape from the Planet of the Apes uses a time travel plot device to bring the ape protagonists to present day Los Angeles (1971 in this case). The result is a film with a much smaller narrative scope. However, although it lacks the science fiction spectacle of its predecessors, it features an interesting satirical exploration of celebrity culture and ponders what it is like to be deemed an enemy of the state. As ever, Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter provide exceptional lead performances as the Chimpanzees Cornelius and Zira. Escape from the Planet of the Apes also captures the pop culture vibe of seventies America.
It is not unusual for Disney to change film titles when marketing them outside of the US. In 2016 they renamed the animated feature film Zootopia to Zootropolis in the UK and Europe to avoid trademark conflicts with other existing businesses. For example there is a Danish zoo which already holds the “Zootopia” name. Similarly, in Germany there is a children’s book which caused copyright conflict, which led to the film being released under the title Zoomania. Such changes, although practical for legal reasons, can sometimes cause a degree of confusion. Especially as there are numerous, low budget productions companies that go out of their way to produce similarly titled “mockbusters” whenever there are big, tentpole, releases. So for clarity, Zootopia 2 has been released in the UK as Zootropolis 2.
Stephen King’s dystopian story, The Running Man, was previously adapted very loosely in 1987, as a vehicle for Arnold Schwarzenegger. That version focused mainly on the “Battle Royale” element of the story and leaned heavily into Arnie’s personality, rather than the politics of the book. It also wasn’t well received by the author. Edgar Wright’s remake follows the source text a lot more closely and is far more interested in its political themes and wider social commentary. Furthermore, this version re-establishes the everyman quality of the hero of Ben Richards, rather than him being the muscle bound, ex-military hero as per Mr. Schwarzenegger’s prior interpretation. This time round, The Running Man uses a lot of the visual and narrative tropes of contemporary reality TV, making this forty three year old story very relevant to today’s viewers and couching the film in a style that is recognisable and accessible.
The Haunted Dolls House is a short film based on a story by M.R. James about a unique antique that is subject to supernatural phenomenon. Adapted by Stephen Gray and David Lilley, this is the third of three short films based upon James’ work that the pair have made. It stars Steven Dolton as Mr. Dillet, a collector of antique dolls houses, who acquires a bargain only to discover that it harbours a ghostly secret. Made on an extremely modest budget over the course of 2012 this clever, innovative and rather sinister adaptation is a fine example of short film creativity. It manages to offer a unique visual depiction of M.R. James’ classic story whilst capturing the unsettling quality of the author’s work. Like so many independently made short films it is clearly a labour of love, made with modest resources. It succinctly captures the spirit of the author’s work and is both innovative and rewarding.
A lot of people may know Luke Evans from the live action version of Beauty and the Beast or Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit trilogy. With his matinee idol good looks, charming Welsh demeanour and his “smoky” tenor singing voice, he projects a sense of old school stardom. Which brings us to No One Lives; a film which is a radical departure from his previous work. His performance is disconcerting to say the least and the film is somewhat unhinged. Directed by Ryuhei Kitamura, who made an interesting adaptation of Clive Barker’s The Midnight Meat Train, this cinematic outing is similarly replete with robust shocks and gore. There are some interesting ideas about the nature of violence, Stockholm Syndrome and whether one should deny or embrace one’s nature. However, these are ultimately minor asides. Philosophical musings in between bouts of surprisingly striking unpleasantness.
In the near future, Kepler 822, a research and drilling facility located at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, suffers a sudden and catastrophic structural failure. There are only six survivors. Mechanical engineer Norah Price (Kristen Stewart), Captain Lucien (Vincent Cassel), biologist Emily Haversham (Jessica Henwick), engineer Liam Smith (John Gallagher Jr.) and crew members Rodrigo (Mamoudou Athie) and Paul (T.J. Miller). As all the functional escape pods have been used and they are unable to contact the surface, the Captain suggests using pressurized suits to walk one mile across the ocean floor to the Roebuck 641 drill installation. There they will find more escape pods. However, it soon becomes apparent that the disaster was not caused by an undersea earthquake and that they are not alone as they make their journey.
One of the most common objections raised regarding the Jurassic Park/Jurassic World franchise is that the films are specifically made to obtain a PG-13 rating from the Motion Picture Association, for purely commercial reasons. Hence, in all films, there is little on screen violence and the dinosaurs are mainly portrayed as a threat and a means of providing jump scares. When a character is killed by a dinosaur it usually happens off screen, is obscured by something else in frame, or is shown in long shot with very little detail. The realities of being eaten alive by a predator are conspicuously absent. Hence, audiences looking for films featuring more graphic dinosaur attacks, have not been well catered for apart from some minor direct-to-video titles. Primitive War finally fills this gap in the market with a frenetic genre mashup that strives to punch above is budgetary weight.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Pacific Rim (2013)
At first glance Pacific Rim may appear to be yet another exercise in Hollywood excess. Another bloated, vacuous spectacle made by cynics who have no other motive than to part the unwary cinemagoer from their hard-earned cash. Fortunately, it is not one of those movies. It is big and certainly visually impressive but it also has a plot, likeable characters, a global overview and a sense of integrity regarding the genre it lovingly references. In every respect, this is a superior example of the summer blockbuster genre and it can all be attributed to the unique talents of Guillermo del Toro.
At first glance Pacific Rim may appear to be yet another exercise in Hollywood excess. Another bloated, vacuous spectacle made by cynics who have no other motive than to part the unwary cinemagoer from their hard-earned cash. Fortunately, it is not one of those movies. It is big and certainly visually impressive but it also has a plot, likeable characters, a global overview and a sense of integrity regarding the genre it lovingly references. In every respect, this is a superior example of the summer blockbuster genre and it can all be attributed to the unique talents of Guillermo del Toro.
Del Toro is a man of passion, intelligence and an inherent understanding of the subtleties of cinema. His diverse portfolio of work shows how he is equally at home with the cerebral and the spectacular. Pacific Rim is very much an example of the latter but it has far more substance than many movies of this kind. The director's clever nuances and flair for creativity are present throughout the movie. Although this a homage to the great Toho productions of the sixties and seventies, Pacific Rim is far from a conceit or an indulgence. It is a very public and accessible ode to a genre that shaped the director's childhood.
So, what makes Pacific Rim head and shoulders above the competition? The fresh perspective that Guillermo del Toro brings to the proceedings. It is not the US that saves the world but people from all nations. The focus of events has a very far eastern flavour and an international cast, all of whom have well developed characters and backstories (by genre standards). There is humour provided by two bickering scientists which not only entertains but is a clear reference to Japanese monster movie tropes. The visuals are both original and creative providing a genuine sense of scale and threat. Yet the Kaiju's still have Godzilla-esque quirks and mannerisms. Ramin Djawadi score also echoes iconic themes from the Toho glory days.
Pacific Rim also eschews the usual broad strokes of Hollywood. The female lead Mako Mori (Rinko Kikuchi) is a far more interesting protagonist than we usually see. The cultural differences between East and West are touched upon but not in any clichéd fashion. As ever the director has a scene in which a small child is terrified and it is a very potent sequence. Yet it has significance to the plot and is far more sophisticated means of explaining motivation. Films so often these days simply think they can define a character’s actions in the most arbitrary manner.
Pacific Rim is not without some shortcomings and the biggest is possibly the length of some of the action scenes. Where younger viewers may delight in an unleavened diet of CGI, the more mature viewer may grow a little tired during the third act. However, there it can be argued that when you get a major studio to bankroll a project such as this for $190 Million, then there is a requirement to indulge them. The 3D process also impacts upon the elegance of Guillermo Navarro cinematography and at times darkens the image too much.
Simply put Pacific Rim puts the Transformers franchise to shame and shows them up for the disposable and hollow products that they are. The movie also showcases the powerful presence of Idris Elba and once again has an American lead character, played by a Brit (Charlie Hunnam). Del Toro regular, Ron Perlman, has an extended cameo and a lot of fun with a rather quirky role. Production designer Andrew Neskoromny gives a very convincing wartime feel to the movie, especially the Jaegers themselves. Under Guillermo del Toro's guidance all these strands come together to make a movie that is far more than the sum of its parts. I'm left pondering how different and potentially better The Hobbit may have been under his creative auspices.
Mainstream films are easy to recommend to people. They’re usually formulaic, work within clear parameters and they’re not controversial. Most people, when viewing such film on someone else’s suggestion, are left with a fairly simply choice. Did they like it or not? Whatever the outcome, no feathers are ruffled. No one looks at you askance afterwards and says “why the hell did you think I’d like that piece of shit”? If something like this happens, then you have clearly not recommended a mainstream film. Perhaps you’ve suggested something that’s a little more of an acquired taste. Something niche, from a very specific sub-genre. Which brings me neatly to Blazing Magnum AKA Strange Shadows in an Empty Room (1976). The US title gives the impression that this film is a hard boiled cop thriller, like so many others that followed in the wake of Dirty Harry. But there’s a clue in the European title. Yes, this movie has more than just a whiff of a giallo about it.
In the year 1860, Baron Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) faces execution by guillotine for the murders perpetrated by the creature he created. With the assistance of a hunchback named Karl (Oscar Quitak) he avoids death by beheading the priest who came to give him the last rites. The priest’s body is then mistakenly buried by the authorities. Three years later, Victor, now using the name Doctor Stein, has established himself as a prosperous physician in Karlsbrück, serving both affluent patients and the poor at a paupers’ hospital. Hans Kleve (Francis Matthews), a junior member of the medical council, recognises Victor and being an admirer, seeks to become his apprentice. Victor and Hans then undertake an experiment to transplant Karl’s living brain into a new, more refined body, rather than a grotesque monstrosity the Baron has previously made. Karl is eager to have a new healthy body, especially after encountering Margaret Conrad (Eunice Gayson), the charming new assistant at the hospital.
This movie questionnaire was originally created by Alexander from Cinemaniac Reviews. Sadly, I believe that website is now defunct. However, that doesn’t in anyway invalidate the questionnaire itself which has some very good questions about your relationship with cinema. Some of my answers to the questions posed are about films that I enjoy, as opposed to those that are considered cinematic classics. However, I have answered some questions more seriously than others, especially the one about undeserving recipients of the Best Film Oscar. I struggled with a couple of questions because I no longer go the cinema as frequently as I did 10 years ago. This is mainly due to the fact that a lot of the films I find interesting end up going straight to streaming after very brief theatrical releases. Some do not even get shown in cinemas. Hence I view far more at home. But I digress. On with the questions and answers. Feel free to comment below and share your views.
Exit 8 is a sophisticated and claustrophobic psychological thriller directed by Genki Kawamura, which skilfully transforms a minimalist indie walking-simulator game into a cinematic existential enigma. This overtly metaphorical film renders the repetitive nature and drudgery of modern working life into a physical environment in which the lead character is trapped and must find a way out. A random, brutal maze filled with an atmosphere of indifference to the lab rats that find themselves trapped within. Or is it their personal guilt that has put them there? Genki Kawamura’s psychological mystery draws inspiration from the Japanese video game of the same name, as well as from the cyclical nature of Groundhog Day and endless corridors of the Overlook Hotel in Kubrick’s The Shining. Although there are jump scares and some ghoulish imagery, this is not a horror vehicle. Instead this is a disquieting psychological drama with a strong sense of morality.
I wrote a post 18 month’s ago regarding whether a directors cut of a film is superior by default to the version originally shown in cinemas. Obviously the answer was no and I then went on to give three examples of films where I think the theatrical release is better to lengthier or substantially altered director’s cut that was subsequently made available at a later date. This time round in this post, I would like to do the complete opposite. I shall provide some examples of films that I think are significantly improved by a longer cut or a substantially, restructured edit. Note some of these examples are technically not a “director’s cuts” but a restoration or reconstruction of the director’s original vision. I shall endeavour to highlight what specific material or broader changes make each respective film “better”. As ever, all of these examples are a matter of subjective opinion and my views are presented as such, not “fact”.
In 1968 the dilapidated freighter Corita hastily leaves Freetown to avoid a customs inspection. Captain Lansen (Eric Porter) has a cargo of dangerous explosives which he is smuggling so he can finally retire. His ship’s passengers also have reasons for leaving in a hurry. Dr. Webster (Nigel Stock), together with his daughter Unity (Suzanna leigh), is relocating due to his indiscretions with patients and illegal operations. Alcoholic pianist Harry Tyler (Tony Beckley) is aimlessly drifting from port to port. Eva Peters (Hildegard Knef) is fleeing from her husband with stolen bearer bonds which she intend to use to buy back her son from his evil clutches Caracas. Ricaldi (Ben Carruthers), a questionable lawyer, is pursuing Eva to retrieve the stolen bonds. First officer Hemmings (Neil McCallum) suggests that the ship should return to Freetown after an imminent Hurricane warning. The Captain asks the passengers and they are unanimous that they do not wish to return. However a mutinous crew, the bad weather and the instability of the explosives force everyone to abandon ship. The survivors find themselves adrift in a lifeboat surrounded by a strange carnivorous seaweed.
Jason Statham is an exemplar of the US mantra of “staying in your lane”. He makes action movies and occasionally strays into action comedies. His formula broadly works and is sufficiently lucrative to keep Mr. Statham employed. Therefore, if you watch a film in which he stars, you have a fairly good idea of what you’ll be getting. Of late, the criteria for his action vehicles have become more succinct. Jason Statham will play an innocuous character, such as a construction foreman or a bee keeper. Something terrible will subsequently befall another character who Mr. Statham has an emotional connection with in some capacity. He will subsequently hunt down those responsible and meet out death and violence. At some point the villain of the story will enquire as to how this innocuous person is so lethal. Research will then show that our Jason is in fact an ex-police officer/special forces operative/international assassin. There’s then a showdown and the villain dies. Job done.
The Light at the Edge of the World presented itself as an action movie upon its release in 1971. Based upon a story by Jules Verne, the Spanish American co-production was driven by its star Kirk Douglas, who curiously hired British director Kevin Billington to helm the project. This tale of a lighthouse keeper fighting a war of attrition against a group of pirates that have captured his island, was market as an adventure film ostensibly in the idiom of the authors previous works and as a pirate movie. MGM bought the rights to distribute the film in the UK on the misunderstanding that it was a family friendly production. It was not and remains so. They subsequently had to cut 15 minutes of violence and torture as well as an undercurrent of sexual assault to secure a suitable rating. Conversely, the US distributors received an arbitrary PG rating, despite the fact this is one of a handful of films that honestly depicts pirates as murderers, rapists and worse.
It’s an established action film trope. The fire team comprised of ex-military personnel, move in on their target. Only to have the tables turned by someone they don’t deem a threat. What makes it different in The Last Stand of Ellen Cole is a throwaway line of dialogue. The bested operative lies bleeding on the floor and the protagonists stands over them ready to finish them off. “Don’t, I have a cat” they feebly plead. For me that was the icing on the cake. The movie had already established it was taking the “same old, same old” and doing something different. Something fun, if taken in the right spirit. This scene tipped the balance and I embraced this film because it was being honest about what it is. This is a modern B movie that decides to give a very specific sub-genre a makeover. Furthermore, its clearly done with an affectionate wink, which is very different to sly wink. This isn’t deliberate self-knowing irony. Its just a film doing something different and possibly silly but it genuinely wants to have fun with it.
David Koepp is no stranger to genre cinema, having written the screenplay for such films as Jurassic Park, Spider-man and War of the Worlds. Where these titles are big budget, major studio productions, Cold Storage is a far more modest production with a smaller scope. Adapted from his own novel, the screenplay is by David Koepp and the film is directed by British film-maker Jonny Campbell. At first glance, Cold Storage seems a somewhat derivative science fiction horror film with a relatively modest budget, financed through a convoluted US and French co-production. Lurid green and red colours feature heavily in the marketing artwork and it is easy, after a cursory look, to write the film off as cheap, generic, direct-to-streaming filler. However, Cold Storage is prime example of why you should not judge a book by it’s cover, or in this case, a film by its posters and online advertising. It is in fact an amusing and fun endeavour that can fill an evening.
Despite being considered by many as an original story, The Abominable Snowman (1957) is in fact a remake of a made for television play, The Creature, that was originally broadcast in the UK in 1955. Hammer Films would often purchase the rights of popular TV programs and subsequently re-work them for mainstream, international cinema. Larger production budgets and fewer censorship restrictions allowed them to make their cinematic interpretations more lurid, thus commercially viable. Hence The Quatermass Xperiment, Quatermass II and Quatermass and the Pit were all given a big screen makeover and were commercially successful. The Abominable Snowman was written by acclaimed writer Nigel Kneale, who also wrote the original television drama and the aforementioned Quatermass trilogy. Although ostensibly marketed as a horror film this production is actually an interesting blend of psychological thriller and science fiction.
There are certain subjects that are notoriously uncinematic. These tend to be things that exist or are undertaken mainly in the mind, rather than expressed in an overtly physical way. Computing, science and mathematics are good examples. Writing code or working out complex equations does not immediately lend themselves to a visual medium such as cinema. Therefore, any film dealing with the world of corporate finance has its work cut out. Hence writer-director J C Chandor immediately deserves praise for making Margin Call, a film about the financial crash of 2008, as gripping and compelling as any political thriller. He does this by keeping the financial elements of the story to a minimum, choosing instead to focus upon those who have become aware of the imminent crisis and their reaction to it. However, the film remains a tough watch with regard to the some of the characters and their respective personal morality or lack there of.
The 1937 Hindenburg disaster has remained an enduring mystery over the years. The physical mechanics of how this airship filled with 7,000,000 cubic feet of hydrogen gas caught fire has been fully explored over the decades and there are now several extremely plausible theories as to how it may have happened. However, there remains the possibility of sabotage. As such an idea has more dramatic potential than mechanical failure, it was used as the central theme of the 1975 disaster movie The Hindenburg. Directed by Robert Wise, the screenplay by Nelson Gidding explores a German resistance against the Nazi regime. The airship is targeted as it is a powerful propaganda symbol for Hitler’s Germany. Sadly despite some interesting ideas, a strong cast and solid, old school optical effects, The Hindenburg is a slow and somewhat ponderous production. Although the final 20 minutes of the film recreate the infamous explosion meticulously, it doesn’t quite compensate for the uneventful, dialogue driven investigation of the previous 100 minutes.
On the Eastern Front in 1943, a German Tiger tank crew led by Lieutenant Philip Gerkens (David Schütter) is sent on a mission to rescue the missing officer Paul von Hardenburg (Tilman Strauss) from a top-secret bunker that is at risk of falling into enemy hands. As they make their way through an eerie no-man’s land, they have to avoid Russian armoured vehicles that seem to be aware of their mission. They also encounter a German unit taking punitive action against a peasant village, in reprisal for partisan activity in the area. The youngest crew member, Michel (Yoran Leicher), talks of the land being home to ghosts and spirits. As the tank penetrates further into contested territory the crew become increasingly disturbed by the uncanny nature of their mission and begin to fall prey to their own inner fears.
Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic novel has been adapted for cinema and television numerous times. Perhaps the most well known is the 1950 Disney version, starring Robert Newton as Long John Silver. His eye rolling performance and exaggerated West Country accent is credited with popularising the stereotypical form of “pirate speech" that has become the pop culture default. Although an enjoyable film, it does gloss over the more sinister aspects of both the source text and history, perpetuating the myth that pirates are just loveable scoundrels. Many subsequent adaptations have fallen into the same trap to a greater or lesser degree. However, that is not the case with the 1990 version of Treasure island, which was made for the TNT cable network and released theatrically outside of the US. This darker and notably more violent adaptation closely follows the source text and is widely considered the most faithful to the book.
The Planet of the Apes movie franchise took a radical change of course with its third entry in the series. The first two films were set in the future and benefited from high production values to help realise a post apocalyptic earth. However, due to a substantial reduction of budget, Escape from the Planet of the Apes uses a time travel plot device to bring the ape protagonists to present day Los Angeles (1971 in this case). The result is a film with a much smaller narrative scope. However, although it lacks the science fiction spectacle of its predecessors, it features an interesting satirical exploration of celebrity culture and ponders what it is like to be deemed an enemy of the state. As ever, Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter provide exceptional lead performances as the Chimpanzees Cornelius and Zira. Escape from the Planet of the Apes also captures the pop culture vibe of seventies America.
It is not unusual for Disney to change film titles when marketing them outside of the US. In 2016 they renamed the animated feature film Zootopia to Zootropolis in the UK and Europe to avoid trademark conflicts with other existing businesses. For example there is a Danish zoo which already holds the “Zootopia” name. Similarly, in Germany there is a children’s book which caused copyright conflict, which led to the film being released under the title Zoomania. Such changes, although practical for legal reasons, can sometimes cause a degree of confusion. Especially as there are numerous, low budget productions companies that go out of their way to produce similarly titled “mockbusters” whenever there are big, tentpole, releases. So for clarity, Zootopia 2 has been released in the UK as Zootropolis 2.
Stephen King’s dystopian story, The Running Man, was previously adapted very loosely in 1987, as a vehicle for Arnold Schwarzenegger. That version focused mainly on the “Battle Royale” element of the story and leaned heavily into Arnie’s personality, rather than the politics of the book. It also wasn’t well received by the author. Edgar Wright’s remake follows the source text a lot more closely and is far more interested in its political themes and wider social commentary. Furthermore, this version re-establishes the everyman quality of the hero of Ben Richards, rather than him being the muscle bound, ex-military hero as per Mr. Schwarzenegger’s prior interpretation. This time round, The Running Man uses a lot of the visual and narrative tropes of contemporary reality TV, making this forty three year old story very relevant to today’s viewers and couching the film in a style that is recognisable and accessible.
The Haunted Dolls House is a short film based on a story by M.R. James about a unique antique that is subject to supernatural phenomenon. Adapted by Stephen Gray and David Lilley, this is the third of three short films based upon James’ work that the pair have made. It stars Steven Dolton as Mr. Dillet, a collector of antique dolls houses, who acquires a bargain only to discover that it harbours a ghostly secret. Made on an extremely modest budget over the course of 2012 this clever, innovative and rather sinister adaptation is a fine example of short film creativity. It manages to offer a unique visual depiction of M.R. James’ classic story whilst capturing the unsettling quality of the author’s work. Like so many independently made short films it is clearly a labour of love, made with modest resources. It succinctly captures the spirit of the author’s work and is both innovative and rewarding.
A lot of people may know Luke Evans from the live action version of Beauty and the Beast or Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit trilogy. With his matinee idol good looks, charming Welsh demeanour and his “smoky” tenor singing voice, he projects a sense of old school stardom. Which brings us to No One Lives; a film which is a radical departure from his previous work. His performance is disconcerting to say the least and the film is somewhat unhinged. Directed by Ryuhei Kitamura, who made an interesting adaptation of Clive Barker’s The Midnight Meat Train, this cinematic outing is similarly replete with robust shocks and gore. There are some interesting ideas about the nature of violence, Stockholm Syndrome and whether one should deny or embrace one’s nature. However, these are ultimately minor asides. Philosophical musings in between bouts of surprisingly striking unpleasantness.
In the near future, Kepler 822, a research and drilling facility located at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, suffers a sudden and catastrophic structural failure. There are only six survivors. Mechanical engineer Norah Price (Kristen Stewart), Captain Lucien (Vincent Cassel), biologist Emily Haversham (Jessica Henwick), engineer Liam Smith (John Gallagher Jr.) and crew members Rodrigo (Mamoudou Athie) and Paul (T.J. Miller). As all the functional escape pods have been used and they are unable to contact the surface, the Captain suggests using pressurized suits to walk one mile across the ocean floor to the Roebuck 641 drill installation. There they will find more escape pods. However, it soon becomes apparent that the disaster was not caused by an undersea earthquake and that they are not alone as they make their journey.
One of the most common objections raised regarding the Jurassic Park/Jurassic World franchise is that the films are specifically made to obtain a PG-13 rating from the Motion Picture Association, for purely commercial reasons. Hence, in all films, there is little on screen violence and the dinosaurs are mainly portrayed as a threat and a means of providing jump scares. When a character is killed by a dinosaur it usually happens off screen, is obscured by something else in frame, or is shown in long shot with very little detail. The realities of being eaten alive by a predator are conspicuously absent. Hence, audiences looking for films featuring more graphic dinosaur attacks, have not been well catered for apart from some minor direct-to-video titles. Primitive War finally fills this gap in the market with a frenetic genre mashup that strives to punch above is budgetary weight.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
The Expendables 3 Unrated Edition (2014)
The theatrical release of The Expendables 3 in 2014 was severely hamstrung by the producer’s decision to court a wider audience with a PG-13 rating. The film although profitable, still fell short of its predecessor’s box office taking. Many fans of the franchise subsequently looked to the DVD and Blu-ray release to provide a harder cut of the movie, similar to the previous R rated instalments.
Sadly, this was not the case. The Expendables 3 Unrated Edition does include some additional action content and one new expositionary scene but overall there is nothing that radically improves the film or makes it stronger in content than the theatrical release.
The theatrical release of The Expendables 3 in 2014 was severely hamstrung by the producer’s decision to court a wider audience with a PG-13 rating. The film although profitable, still fell short of its predecessor’s box office taking. Many fans of the franchise subsequently looked to the DVD and Blu-ray release to provide a harder cut of the movie, similar to the previous R rated instalments.
Sadly, this was not the case. The Expendables 3 Unrated Edition does include some additional action content and one new expositionary scene but overall there is nothing that radically improves the film or makes it stronger in content than the theatrical release.
What Unrated Edition of the movie offers is five minutes of extra material, including an additional scene of dialogue between the younger member of the mercenary team. It should be noted that it makes no significant difference to the film’s narrative. The remainder of new content consists of additional action sequences in the movie’s climatic battle. This is predominantly expanded knife work by Doc (Wesley Snipes) and Lee Christmas (Jason Statham). There is also a smattering of additional profanity throughout the proceedings. Although this new material would have pushed the movie into an R rating if it had been included in the theatrical release, it still wouldn't have made it comparable to the first two films.
So, to clarify the situation, the first two major action scenes in the The Expendables 3 Unrated Edition are the same as the theatrical release. The train rescue and the dock shootout remain relatively bloodless, although they are well constructed. I was especially saddened that nothing was added to the scene in which a steel cable was strung across the rail track. I was hoping for some decapitations and bisections but no such luck. It is not until about fifty minutes into the movie we get the first new content. An additional scene aboard the transport plane where the new team of Expendables discuss Stonebanks (Mel Gibson). It neither enhances nor detracts from the theatrical version and just reinforces the established group dynamics.
It is during the final battle in the ruined hotel, that the bulk of the new material is added. However this is mainly longer edits of fights and the use of alternative takes. For example there is a scene where Jason Statham uses a soldier as a meat shield that I don't recollect being in the theatrical release.
The changes to the various knife fights are as follows. There are more stabbings with an emphasis upon sound effects. Wesley Snipes knifes a group of soldiers in more detail and Jason Statham dispatches a particularly large foe by stabbing down into his shoulder with a large blade.
Other differences include more physical blows during the hand to hand combat and possibly more bullet impacts (although these remain conspicuously bloodless). Because the changes are so minor it is hard to tell without doing a direct side by side comparison between theatrical and unrated edition. I suspect there may be some nominal CGI blood spray and bullet holes added to the Mel Gibson's demise. I'm sure a more comprehensive analysis between versions will eventually appear over at Movie-Censorship.com in due course.
Sadly, The Expendables 3 Unrated Edition does not fundamentally change my opinion of the overall movie. It was a mistake by the film makers to make such a tonal shift and although the longer cut can offer some solid action entertainment, it lacks the bombast and excess of its two prequels. If a fourth movie is forthcoming let us hope it returns to a format that appeals to the core demographic.
Mainstream films are easy to recommend to people. They’re usually formulaic, work within clear parameters and they’re not controversial. Most people, when viewing such film on someone else’s suggestion, are left with a fairly simply choice. Did they like it or not? Whatever the outcome, no feathers are ruffled. No one looks at you askance afterwards and says “why the hell did you think I’d like that piece of shit”? If something like this happens, then you have clearly not recommended a mainstream film. Perhaps you’ve suggested something that’s a little more of an acquired taste. Something niche, from a very specific sub-genre. Which brings me neatly to Blazing Magnum AKA Strange Shadows in an Empty Room (1976). The US title gives the impression that this film is a hard boiled cop thriller, like so many others that followed in the wake of Dirty Harry. But there’s a clue in the European title. Yes, this movie has more than just a whiff of a giallo about it.
Jason Statham is an exemplar of the US mantra of “staying in your lane”. He makes action movies and occasionally strays into action comedies. His formula broadly works and is sufficiently lucrative to keep Mr. Statham employed. Therefore, if you watch a film in which he stars, you have a fairly good idea of what you’ll be getting. Of late, the criteria for his action vehicles have become more succinct. Jason Statham will play an innocuous character, such as a construction foreman or a bee keeper. Something terrible will subsequently befall another character who Mr. Statham has an emotional connection with in some capacity. He will subsequently hunt down those responsible and meet out death and violence. At some point the villain of the story will enquire as to how this innocuous person is so lethal. Research will then show that our Jason is in fact an ex-police officer/special forces operative/international assassin. There’s then a showdown and the villain dies. Job done.
The Light at the Edge of the World presented itself as an action movie upon its release in 1971. Based upon a story by Jules Verne, the Spanish American co-production was driven by its star Kirk Douglas, who curiously hired British director Kevin Billington to helm the project. This tale of a lighthouse keeper fighting a war of attrition against a group of pirates that have captured his island, was market as an adventure film ostensibly in the idiom of the authors previous works and as a pirate movie. MGM bought the rights to distribute the film in the UK on the misunderstanding that it was a family friendly production. It was not and remains so. They subsequently had to cut 15 minutes of violence and torture as well as an undercurrent of sexual assault to secure a suitable rating. Conversely, the US distributors received an arbitrary PG rating, despite the fact this is one of a handful of films that honestly depicts pirates as murderers, rapists and worse.
It’s an established action film trope. The fire team comprised of ex-military personnel, move in on their target. Only to have the tables turned by someone they don’t deem a threat. What makes it different in The Last Stand of Ellen Cole is a throwaway line of dialogue. The bested operative lies bleeding on the floor and the protagonists stands over them ready to finish them off. “Don’t, I have a cat” they feebly plead. For me that was the icing on the cake. The movie had already established it was taking the “same old, same old” and doing something different. Something fun, if taken in the right spirit. This scene tipped the balance and I embraced this film because it was being honest about what it is. This is a modern B movie that decides to give a very specific sub-genre a makeover. Furthermore, its clearly done with an affectionate wink, which is very different to sly wink. This isn’t deliberate self-knowing irony. Its just a film doing something different and possibly silly but it genuinely wants to have fun with it.
Stephen King’s dystopian story, The Running Man, was previously adapted very loosely in 1987, as a vehicle for Arnold Schwarzenegger. That version focused mainly on the “Battle Royale” element of the story and leaned heavily into Arnie’s personality, rather than the politics of the book. It also wasn’t well received by the author. Edgar Wright’s remake follows the source text a lot more closely and is far more interested in its political themes and wider social commentary. Furthermore, this version re-establishes the everyman quality of the hero of Ben Richards, rather than him being the muscle bound, ex-military hero as per Mr. Schwarzenegger’s prior interpretation. This time round, The Running Man uses a lot of the visual and narrative tropes of contemporary reality TV, making this forty three year old story very relevant to today’s viewers and couching the film in a style that is recognisable and accessible.
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.
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.
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.
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.
PC Nicholas Angel (Simon Pegg) is an exemplary Police Officer, with a strict adherence to the letter of the law. As a result of making the rest of the London Metropolitan Police look bad, he is transferred to the rural town of Sandford, Gloucestershire. On arrival, Angel finds that the local Inspector, Frank Butterman (Jim Broadbent), takes a far more laissez-faire approach to policing. His colleagues are incompetent and he is further hampered by the Neighbourhood Watch Alliance (NWA), who prioritise low crime statistics over law enforcement due to their desire to win the title of “Village of the Year”. Furthermore, Angel is partnered with the Inspector’s son, Constable Danny Butterman (Nick Frost), who is infatuated with “buddy cop” movies and is in awe of Angel’s London experience. “Have you ever fired two guns while jumping through the air?” However, a sudden spate of grisly accidents lead Angel to believe that there's more to the seemingly tranquil and picture-perfect community than meets the eye.
As a collection of history's worst tyrants and criminal masterminds gather to plot a war to wipe out millions, one man must race against time to stop them. Discover the origins of the very first independent intelligence agency in The King's Man. Based on the Comic Book “The Secret Service” by Mark Millar and Dave Gibbons. 20th Century Studios
Matthew Vaughn’s The King’s Man is an inconsistent film, both narratively and tonally. It veers between serious themes and stylised, hyperbolic action. At times it does quite a good job of exploring such complex subjects as global politics, mechanised warfare and colonialism. Sadly it then wrenches the viewer out of these cerebral reveries as it lapses into the sort of over the top action sequences that were notable in the two earlier films. It’s a shame because The King’s Man gets so many other aspects of the production right. The casting is very interesting, especially Ralph Fiennes as the “pacifist” Duke of Oxford. He is actually a very good fit for the action genre. Djimon Hounsou and Gemma Arterton are given little backstory beyond being respectively the faithful manservant and the family nanny but both are notable due to their own inherent acting chops and personal charisma. Rhys Ifans obviously has a great time as Grigori Rasputin, ensuring all the man’s vices are robustly depicted.
On paper, a video games franchise such as Assassin’s Creed lends itself perfectly to a cinematic adaptation. The parkour action scenes, the historical settings and the contemporary conspiracy theory themes are all elements that should play well with a modern youth audience. Hence with the backing of a major studio such as Twentieth Century Fox and a budget of $125 million, the 2016 movie should have been a guaranteed box office hit. The casting of Michael Fassbender, an actor who is comfortable with serious roles and big Hollywood franchises, should have carried this film comfortably over the finishing line. Director Justin Kurzel, who had found critical success with his adaptation of MacBeth a year previously, must have looked like a safe pair of hands to handle such a project. Sadly, that was not the case. Assassin’s Creed is not the sum of its parts, in fact many elements appear to be pulling in opposite directions. The resulting feature film is staggeringly dull, soulless and a chore to watch. A testament to how modern big budget franchise movies have become a production line, with all the art stripped from them.
300: Rise of an Empire is a curious beast, being neither a sequel nor a prequel. It is infact a tale that takes place simultaneously with those of the original movie. While Gerard Butler is busy making a last stand at the Battle of Thermopylae, fellow warrior and politician Themistokles, played by the singularly uncharismatic Sullivan Stapleton, leads a similar army of buffed Greeks against the Persian fleet. Once again we have a movie that is the epitome of style over substance, complete with a sound design that challenges what can physically be endured by human hearing. They say the first casualty of war is innocence but in this type of movie it's closely followed by historical accuracy and authentic depictions of ethnicity. 300: Rise of an Empire is a cinematic assault upon the senses but not in a good way like Mad Max: Fury Road.
Back in September 2017, Liam Neeson stated in an interview with Sky News that he was retiring from the action genre, due to his age. He felt that audiences would question his credibility in such roles. After the release of The Commuter (2018) and Cold Pursuit (2019) Mr Neeson appeared to return to human dramas and films that focus on performance rather than punching man and beast. Ordinary Love and Made in Italy, both released in 2019, demonstrate the actor’s versatility and skill. People seem to forget that he is a thespian who was initially known for his character driven roles in films such as The Mission (1986), Rob Roy (1995 and Michael Collins (1996). It was only in 2008 that he reinvented himself as an action hero. It’s all a far cry from Schindler’s List and his performance that earned him an academy award nomination. The reason I mention all of this is because The Ice Road is the third action movie I’ve seen in 2021 that stars Liam Neeson.
One of the stand out tropes of the modern action film is that the stakes are always cranked right up to 11. Terrorists, biological weapons and nuclear bombs are common threats in such movies with a hero or heroes trying to save the world from death and destruction or worse. However, back in the sixties and seventies, things were a little more straight forward and in some respects more credible. Take When Eight Bells Toll, released in 1971, for example. British Treasury secret agent Phillip Calvert investigates the theft of £8,000,000 in gold bullion by a gang of international smugglers. In the context of the times this was no small beer however it’s somewhat mundane compared to fighting super villains and their space lasers. Frankly I prefer these low key plot devices as they can make a film a little more plausible within the confines of the genre. A concept that is often forgotten today.
Forensic accountant Owen Casserly (Jake Weber) flees his home with his teenage son Connor (Finn Little) when he discovers he has been targeted by a pair of assassins (Nicholas Hoult and Aidan Gillen) who have been hired to stop him giving evidence in a major corruption case. Connor witnesses the murder of his father after their car is run off the road. Entrusted with important written evidence, he escapes into the dense forests of the Montana wilderness pursued by the killers. Seeking help he runs into smokejumper Hannah Faber (Angelina Jolie) who is stationed at a remote fire lookout tower. Hannah suffers from PTSD from a previous forest fire in which she was unable to save three young boys. Hannah attempts to lead Connor through the forest to safety. Meanwhile the assassins set fire to the forest to divert the attention of the authorities and cover their tracks.
I must admit that I did not have particularly high hopes for Paul W S Anderson's remake of the 1975 Roger Corman produced cult classic. Anderson’s work varies greatly. Event Horizon and Soldier are solid genre films but I still have not fully come to terms with Alien vs. Predator. Jason Statham is also a name that divides the public, with solid material such as The Transporter and unfathomable tosh like Revolver. But despite these considerations, Death Race is in fact quite a surprise and does not follow the path that so many remakes do. It takes the basic themes and concept associated with the original and tries to do something different with them. It doesn’t reinvent the wheel nor is it a genre milestone. But it does offer a different spin on things, have some engaging action scenes and provide some dumb but enjoyable entertainment. When combined with snacks and some beer this is a passable way to kill 111 minutes.
I did not watch Zero Dark Thirty upon its initial release, due to the politics surrounding it. I wanted to be able to view it free from bipartisan debate. Eight years on I believe this now achievable and although debate still exists it is now more measured and less strident. Zero Dark Thirty is certainly a compelling movie. It plays as a docudrama, providing an in-depth study of the US intelligence services hunt for Osama Bin Laden. It cannot be faulted on a technical level and the performances are very strong. It does not adopt a celebratory or triumphalist tone in its approach to the story. Director Kathryn Bigelow endeavours to keep the proceedings focused upon the intricacies of an intelligence driven manhunt. There is little or no tubthumping, jingoism. The decision to find Bin Laden is shown as a political and military exercise of foreign policy. The film solely focuses on the story from a US perspective but that is perfectly acceptable as it is not intended to be an exploration of geo-politics.
Firestorm was originally written as a vehicle for Sylvester Stallone, however when the production company Savoy Pictures went bankrupt the screenplay was bought by Twentieth Fox and the scope of the movie reduced to suit a lower budget. It’s broadly similar to Cliffhanger in so far as the lead character is a specialist in a certain field who runs afoul of criminals in a perilous environment. Whereas Cliffhanger is set in the Rocky Mountains, Firestorm takes place in the forests of Northern Wyoming. After the script was revised four times, the finished screenplay was given a final “polish” by Graham Yost who has considerable experience with the action movie genre. As stallone was no longer associated with the project and the production had been repurposed to be less extravagant, the movie was assigned to former NFL star Howie Long. Long had already appeared in the John Woo movie Broken Arrow (1996) and the Firestorm was seen as a means to give him a star vehicle.
The original French movies District 13 and its sequel District 13: Ultimatum, conceived and produced by Luc Besson, were enjoyable variations of the Escape from New York theme. Their charm lay in their European pedigree and the skilful use of parkour. The two leads, David Belle and Cyril Raffaelli, were eminently suited to the minimalist roles and the screenplays were fun. Half of these movies appeal was the fact that they were not mainstream US products. Brick Mansions is the Hollywood remake of District 13, as well as being Paul Walkers’ final movie. Sadly, this film is far from a fitting epitaph, being devoid of any charisma or innovations. It is blandly shot , poorly edited and has been stripped of everything that made the original entertaining.
Arnold Schwarzenegger's return to the big screen after his political career has been uneven to say the least. His cameos in The Expendables and The Expendables 2 were well received, with their self referential charm and age related irony. Yet his first major movie The Last Stand, although competent, failed to find an audience. Escape Plan fared better at the box office but did not put Arnie back on the A list. Effectively there's a large percentage of the contemporary cinematic audience who were born after his heyday and are simply not overt fans of his work. His core audience is more than likely of the age group that consume most of their film entertainment at home. Which may explain why Sabotage tanked in the US upon release on March 28th 2014. It was the worst opening box office of Arnie's career. He used to break first day opening records.
Sequels and reboots are hardly a new concept and have been a part of Hollywood culture since the 1930s. The success of the Universal Horror movies from that era being a prime example of direct follow ups and retconned movies. However, there is one fundamental rule that distinguishes a good sequel from a bad one. You should never mitigate, undermine or make irrelevant the events of the previous movie, just to provide your new film with a raison d'être. For example, the events of Aliens do not contradict or trivialise those that happened in Alien. In fact with that franchise there is a very clear logical progression between the two movies. The same is true for Mad Max and Mad Max 2 or Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back. The key is to progress a story, enhance it or explore things from an alternative angle and bring something new to the cinematic table. Sadly this philosophy is all too often lost on corporate film making. Which means that many sequels are just tedious replays of prior films. Terminator: Dark Fate falls squarely into this category.
The enduring appeal of the character John Rambo in First Blood comes from the fact that he is a traumatised ex- service man who keeps himself to himself as he drifts from job to job, trying to come to terms with his wartime experiences. His poor treatment at the hands of a small-town Sheriff is a succinct metaphor for the social and political indifference that Vietnam veterans were shown upon their return to the US. He’s a man with a code in a world that no longer has any use for him. His simple and honest patriotism is not returned and he is in fact viewed with shame by many from the nation he loves. Furthermore, the first movie does not paint him as a cold-blooded killer. Despite provocation he is not the first person to shoot to kill. Rambo is in many ways a victim. A broken man, who society has asked to do unspeakable things. Now society wants nothing to do with him and fears the “monster” they created. Although clearly an action movie, First Blood had narrative depth and a flawed but sympathetic protagonist. 37 years and four movies later, such dramatic themes have long left the franchise. The central character is indeed a caricature of its former self.
It was hardly surprising that the movie adaptation of Chris Kyle's autobiography American Sniper, would cause controversy. The Iraq war, US Foreign Policy and national pride are seldom subjects that are discussed in a calm and measured fashion. And then there are the personal politics of director Clint Eastwood to consider. Hence there were claims from some quarters upon the movie’s release, that it was Islamophobic and counter claims that criticisms of the late Chris Kyle were unpatriotic. There still remain issues regarding the authenticity of events depicted in the source text and subsequently the movies screenplay by Jason Hall. Yet none of these factors have in anyway impacted upon the film's box office returns which currently stands at $247,900,417 worldwide.
Do I really need to present you with some sort of plot synopsis for Transporter 3? No, I didn’t think so. More of the same as Frank Martin (Jason Statham) and his police chum, Inspector Tarconi (Francois Berleand) become embroiled in yet another high-octane escapade. There's fights, car stunts, exotic international locations and a strong sense of humour. This time, the disposable love interest is a Ukrainian girl named Valentina (Natalya Rudakova) who fulfils her role succinctly. The film benefits by being set back in Europe, after the mistake of basing Transporter 2 in the US. This time, the story takes us to such locations as Budapest and Odessa. The international film crew once again bring a veneer of panache to the production that is conspicuously absent in US action movies. For a modest budget fil, Transporter 3 it looks very good. Again the proceedings are given a boost by a pertinent soundtrack by Alexandre Azaria and a selection of European “tunes”.
Jason Bourne originally graced our screens for the first time seventeen years ago. The Bourne Identity was a gritty, minimalist take on the espionage genre and a welcome change from the excesses of the Pierce Brosnan Bond era. The story arc was sustained over three movies and ended efficiently and succinctly. After which Matt Damon moved on, as did the director of two of the movies, Paul Greengrass. Which leaves us with The Bourne Legacy; the tangential sequel that arrived in 2012. A film that exists because the money men and bean counters hate to pass up on a franchise until it has been squeezed utterly dry. Hence, they commissioned the writer of the series, Tony Gilroy, to come up with a screenplay and direct a spinoff movie. Jeremy Renner was cast in the lead role. Yet despite narrative and production continuity, The Bourne Legacy was not a Jason Bourne movie with the star appeal of Matt Damon. Although the film turned a profit, it had the lowest box office returns out of the entire franchise.
During the eighties there was a clear league table of action movie stars. By the mid-nineties this system fell into decline and the Hollywood lacked any clearly defined exponents of the genre. A decade later, due to the success of Luc Besson’s Transporter films, Jason Statham became a bankable box office star in this field. When you look at Statham's early work in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels it is hard to envisage the "mockney geezer" as an international action star. Yet he has successfully stepped into the role and enjoys a large following. I enjoy his work as he has a likeable on-screen persona. My 88-year-old Mum likes him to because "he wears nice suits". The action genre seldom reaches such a diverse demographic.
Before we start, I recollect that one well known UK critic described Safe House as sub-Tony Scott, upon its release. Now I’ve always been conflicted over Scott’s back catalogue, as I’ve always found his movies to be hampered by their own unique style. The subtleties of his characters and depth of his themes are all too often drowned out by his frenetic style and fast paced editing. Therefore a comment such as this really sets off alarm bells for me. Having recently watched The Equalizer 2, I wanted a further fix of Denzel Washington in a similar action vehicle. As Safe House was available on Netflix UK, I decided to kill a couple of hours and see what actually constitutes as “sub-Tony Scott”.
Into the Storm (2014)
When I first saw the trailers for Into the Storm back in 2014, I was far from impressed. I thought to myself, I bet that's just a CGI FX show reel with some second-rate plot tacked on as an afterthought. So, I elected not to see the movie upon release and forgot about it. The other night I was in the mood for some easy entertainment. Nothing heavy, just something that would provide an amusing diversion for an hour and a half or so. I wasn't setting the bar particularly high. Then I remembered Into the Storm and as I’ve always had a weakness for the Disaster Movie genre, I thought to myself, that may do the trick. Sadly, it didn't. This is far from a dumb but fun, popcorn movie like San Andreas. Into the Storm is an insultingly stupid piece of cinema that left me feeling angry and slightly unclean due to watching something so crass.
When I first saw the trailers for Into the Storm back in 2014, I was far from impressed. I thought to myself, I bet that's just a CGI FX show reel with some second-rate plot tacked on as an afterthought. So, I elected not to see the movie upon release and forgot about it. The other night I was in the mood for some easy entertainment. Nothing heavy, just something that would provide an amusing diversion for an hour and a half or so. I wasn't setting the bar particularly high. Then I remembered Into the Storm and as I’ve always had a weakness for the Disaster Movie genre, I thought to myself, that may do the trick. Sadly, it didn't. This is far from a dumb but fun, popcorn movie like San Andreas. Into the Storm is an insultingly stupid piece of cinema that left me feeling angry and slightly unclean due to watching something so crass.
Usually I won't take the bait and allow my buttons to be pushed when confronted by such contrived film making. However, Into the Storm actually succeeded in making me angry. It is appallingly written, with a paper-thin plot, filled with the most singularly tedious stereotypes and clichés. There's a Father estranged from his sons, a Mother who may be putting her work before her daughter and a documentary film maker who'll do anything to get the scoop, yet ultimately sacrifices himself to save the day. Then we have a wealth of teenagers designed to represent all the various different subsets of youth culture. The film also includes a quota of "Red Shirts" characters that conveniently die at strategic points in the narrative. However, the jewel in the crown of Into the Storm has to be the pair of comedy Redknecks. They're excruciatingly embarrassing to watch.
What is so offensive about this movie is that fact that it’s obviously the product of a committee meeting, where a bunch of suits had a brainstorming session. Such people are devoid of any artistic creativity or personal integrity and to them film making is just a process. A means to an end, devoid of anything else other than a desire to make money. They have nothing but contempt for their audience, the same way drug dealers has nothing but loathing for their customers. Forget the apocryphal notion of a film being so bad, it’s good. Into the Storm is just an awful, cynical, crass piece of film making. Utterly hollow, soulless and devoid of any joy. Do not dignify this cinematic insult with either your time or money.
Mainstream films are easy to recommend to people. They’re usually formulaic, work within clear parameters and they’re not controversial. Most people, when viewing such film on someone else’s suggestion, are left with a fairly simply choice. Did they like it or not? Whatever the outcome, no feathers are ruffled. No one looks at you askance afterwards and says “why the hell did you think I’d like that piece of shit”? If something like this happens, then you have clearly not recommended a mainstream film. Perhaps you’ve suggested something that’s a little more of an acquired taste. Something niche, from a very specific sub-genre. Which brings me neatly to Blazing Magnum AKA Strange Shadows in an Empty Room (1976). The US title gives the impression that this film is a hard boiled cop thriller, like so many others that followed in the wake of Dirty Harry. But there’s a clue in the European title. Yes, this movie has more than just a whiff of a giallo about it.
In the year 1860, Baron Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) faces execution by guillotine for the murders perpetrated by the creature he created. With the assistance of a hunchback named Karl (Oscar Quitak) he avoids death by beheading the priest who came to give him the last rites. The priest’s body is then mistakenly buried by the authorities. Three years later, Victor, now using the name Doctor Stein, has established himself as a prosperous physician in Karlsbrück, serving both affluent patients and the poor at a paupers’ hospital. Hans Kleve (Francis Matthews), a junior member of the medical council, recognises Victor and being an admirer, seeks to become his apprentice. Victor and Hans then undertake an experiment to transplant Karl’s living brain into a new, more refined body, rather than a grotesque monstrosity the Baron has previously made. Karl is eager to have a new healthy body, especially after encountering Margaret Conrad (Eunice Gayson), the charming new assistant at the hospital.
This movie questionnaire was originally created by Alexander from Cinemaniac Reviews. Sadly, I believe that website is now defunct. However, that doesn’t in anyway invalidate the questionnaire itself which has some very good questions about your relationship with cinema. Some of my answers to the questions posed are about films that I enjoy, as opposed to those that are considered cinematic classics. However, I have answered some questions more seriously than others, especially the one about undeserving recipients of the Best Film Oscar. I struggled with a couple of questions because I no longer go the cinema as frequently as I did 10 years ago. This is mainly due to the fact that a lot of the films I find interesting end up going straight to streaming after very brief theatrical releases. Some do not even get shown in cinemas. Hence I view far more at home. But I digress. On with the questions and answers. Feel free to comment below and share your views.
Exit 8 is a sophisticated and claustrophobic psychological thriller directed by Genki Kawamura, which skilfully transforms a minimalist indie walking-simulator game into a cinematic existential enigma. This overtly metaphorical film renders the repetitive nature and drudgery of modern working life into a physical environment in which the lead character is trapped and must find a way out. A random, brutal maze filled with an atmosphere of indifference to the lab rats that find themselves trapped within. Or is it their personal guilt that has put them there? Genki Kawamura’s psychological mystery draws inspiration from the Japanese video game of the same name, as well as from the cyclical nature of Groundhog Day and endless corridors of the Overlook Hotel in Kubrick’s The Shining. Although there are jump scares and some ghoulish imagery, this is not a horror vehicle. Instead this is a disquieting psychological drama with a strong sense of morality.
I wrote a post 18 month’s ago regarding whether a directors cut of a film is superior by default to the version originally shown in cinemas. Obviously the answer was no and I then went on to give three examples of films where I think the theatrical release is better to lengthier or substantially altered director’s cut that was subsequently made available at a later date. This time round in this post, I would like to do the complete opposite. I shall provide some examples of films that I think are significantly improved by a longer cut or a substantially, restructured edit. Note some of these examples are technically not a “director’s cuts” but a restoration or reconstruction of the director’s original vision. I shall endeavour to highlight what specific material or broader changes make each respective film “better”. As ever, all of these examples are a matter of subjective opinion and my views are presented as such, not “fact”.
In 1968 the dilapidated freighter Corita hastily leaves Freetown to avoid a customs inspection. Captain Lansen (Eric Porter) has a cargo of dangerous explosives which he is smuggling so he can finally retire. His ship’s passengers also have reasons for leaving in a hurry. Dr. Webster (Nigel Stock), together with his daughter Unity (Suzanna leigh), is relocating due to his indiscretions with patients and illegal operations. Alcoholic pianist Harry Tyler (Tony Beckley) is aimlessly drifting from port to port. Eva Peters (Hildegard Knef) is fleeing from her husband with stolen bearer bonds which she intend to use to buy back her son from his evil clutches Caracas. Ricaldi (Ben Carruthers), a questionable lawyer, is pursuing Eva to retrieve the stolen bonds. First officer Hemmings (Neil McCallum) suggests that the ship should return to Freetown after an imminent Hurricane warning. The Captain asks the passengers and they are unanimous that they do not wish to return. However a mutinous crew, the bad weather and the instability of the explosives force everyone to abandon ship. The survivors find themselves adrift in a lifeboat surrounded by a strange carnivorous seaweed.
Jason Statham is an exemplar of the US mantra of “staying in your lane”. He makes action movies and occasionally strays into action comedies. His formula broadly works and is sufficiently lucrative to keep Mr. Statham employed. Therefore, if you watch a film in which he stars, you have a fairly good idea of what you’ll be getting. Of late, the criteria for his action vehicles have become more succinct. Jason Statham will play an innocuous character, such as a construction foreman or a bee keeper. Something terrible will subsequently befall another character who Mr. Statham has an emotional connection with in some capacity. He will subsequently hunt down those responsible and meet out death and violence. At some point the villain of the story will enquire as to how this innocuous person is so lethal. Research will then show that our Jason is in fact an ex-police officer/special forces operative/international assassin. There’s then a showdown and the villain dies. Job done.
The Light at the Edge of the World presented itself as an action movie upon its release in 1971. Based upon a story by Jules Verne, the Spanish American co-production was driven by its star Kirk Douglas, who curiously hired British director Kevin Billington to helm the project. This tale of a lighthouse keeper fighting a war of attrition against a group of pirates that have captured his island, was market as an adventure film ostensibly in the idiom of the authors previous works and as a pirate movie. MGM bought the rights to distribute the film in the UK on the misunderstanding that it was a family friendly production. It was not and remains so. They subsequently had to cut 15 minutes of violence and torture as well as an undercurrent of sexual assault to secure a suitable rating. Conversely, the US distributors received an arbitrary PG rating, despite the fact this is one of a handful of films that honestly depicts pirates as murderers, rapists and worse.
It’s an established action film trope. The fire team comprised of ex-military personnel, move in on their target. Only to have the tables turned by someone they don’t deem a threat. What makes it different in The Last Stand of Ellen Cole is a throwaway line of dialogue. The bested operative lies bleeding on the floor and the protagonists stands over them ready to finish them off. “Don’t, I have a cat” they feebly plead. For me that was the icing on the cake. The movie had already established it was taking the “same old, same old” and doing something different. Something fun, if taken in the right spirit. This scene tipped the balance and I embraced this film because it was being honest about what it is. This is a modern B movie that decides to give a very specific sub-genre a makeover. Furthermore, its clearly done with an affectionate wink, which is very different to sly wink. This isn’t deliberate self-knowing irony. Its just a film doing something different and possibly silly but it genuinely wants to have fun with it.
David Koepp is no stranger to genre cinema, having written the screenplay for such films as Jurassic Park, Spider-man and War of the Worlds. Where these titles are big budget, major studio productions, Cold Storage is a far more modest production with a smaller scope. Adapted from his own novel, the screenplay is by David Koepp and the film is directed by British film-maker Jonny Campbell. At first glance, Cold Storage seems a somewhat derivative science fiction horror film with a relatively modest budget, financed through a convoluted US and French co-production. Lurid green and red colours feature heavily in the marketing artwork and it is easy, after a cursory look, to write the film off as cheap, generic, direct-to-streaming filler. However, Cold Storage is prime example of why you should not judge a book by it’s cover, or in this case, a film by its posters and online advertising. It is in fact an amusing and fun endeavour that can fill an evening.
Despite being considered by many as an original story, The Abominable Snowman (1957) is in fact a remake of a made for television play, The Creature, that was originally broadcast in the UK in 1955. Hammer Films would often purchase the rights of popular TV programs and subsequently re-work them for mainstream, international cinema. Larger production budgets and fewer censorship restrictions allowed them to make their cinematic interpretations more lurid, thus commercially viable. Hence The Quatermass Xperiment, Quatermass II and Quatermass and the Pit were all given a big screen makeover and were commercially successful. The Abominable Snowman was written by acclaimed writer Nigel Kneale, who also wrote the original television drama and the aforementioned Quatermass trilogy. Although ostensibly marketed as a horror film this production is actually an interesting blend of psychological thriller and science fiction.
There are certain subjects that are notoriously uncinematic. These tend to be things that exist or are undertaken mainly in the mind, rather than expressed in an overtly physical way. Computing, science and mathematics are good examples. Writing code or working out complex equations does not immediately lend themselves to a visual medium such as cinema. Therefore, any film dealing with the world of corporate finance has its work cut out. Hence writer-director J C Chandor immediately deserves praise for making Margin Call, a film about the financial crash of 2008, as gripping and compelling as any political thriller. He does this by keeping the financial elements of the story to a minimum, choosing instead to focus upon those who have become aware of the imminent crisis and their reaction to it. However, the film remains a tough watch with regard to the some of the characters and their respective personal morality or lack there of.
The 1937 Hindenburg disaster has remained an enduring mystery over the years. The physical mechanics of how this airship filled with 7,000,000 cubic feet of hydrogen gas caught fire has been fully explored over the decades and there are now several extremely plausible theories as to how it may have happened. However, there remains the possibility of sabotage. As such an idea has more dramatic potential than mechanical failure, it was used as the central theme of the 1975 disaster movie The Hindenburg. Directed by Robert Wise, the screenplay by Nelson Gidding explores a German resistance against the Nazi regime. The airship is targeted as it is a powerful propaganda symbol for Hitler’s Germany. Sadly despite some interesting ideas, a strong cast and solid, old school optical effects, The Hindenburg is a slow and somewhat ponderous production. Although the final 20 minutes of the film recreate the infamous explosion meticulously, it doesn’t quite compensate for the uneventful, dialogue driven investigation of the previous 100 minutes.
On the Eastern Front in 1943, a German Tiger tank crew led by Lieutenant Philip Gerkens (David Schütter) is sent on a mission to rescue the missing officer Paul von Hardenburg (Tilman Strauss) from a top-secret bunker that is at risk of falling into enemy hands. As they make their way through an eerie no-man’s land, they have to avoid Russian armoured vehicles that seem to be aware of their mission. They also encounter a German unit taking punitive action against a peasant village, in reprisal for partisan activity in the area. The youngest crew member, Michel (Yoran Leicher), talks of the land being home to ghosts and spirits. As the tank penetrates further into contested territory the crew become increasingly disturbed by the uncanny nature of their mission and begin to fall prey to their own inner fears.
Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic novel has been adapted for cinema and television numerous times. Perhaps the most well known is the 1950 Disney version, starring Robert Newton as Long John Silver. His eye rolling performance and exaggerated West Country accent is credited with popularising the stereotypical form of “pirate speech" that has become the pop culture default. Although an enjoyable film, it does gloss over the more sinister aspects of both the source text and history, perpetuating the myth that pirates are just loveable scoundrels. Many subsequent adaptations have fallen into the same trap to a greater or lesser degree. However, that is not the case with the 1990 version of Treasure island, which was made for the TNT cable network and released theatrically outside of the US. This darker and notably more violent adaptation closely follows the source text and is widely considered the most faithful to the book.
The Planet of the Apes movie franchise took a radical change of course with its third entry in the series. The first two films were set in the future and benefited from high production values to help realise a post apocalyptic earth. However, due to a substantial reduction of budget, Escape from the Planet of the Apes uses a time travel plot device to bring the ape protagonists to present day Los Angeles (1971 in this case). The result is a film with a much smaller narrative scope. However, although it lacks the science fiction spectacle of its predecessors, it features an interesting satirical exploration of celebrity culture and ponders what it is like to be deemed an enemy of the state. As ever, Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter provide exceptional lead performances as the Chimpanzees Cornelius and Zira. Escape from the Planet of the Apes also captures the pop culture vibe of seventies America.
It is not unusual for Disney to change film titles when marketing them outside of the US. In 2016 they renamed the animated feature film Zootopia to Zootropolis in the UK and Europe to avoid trademark conflicts with other existing businesses. For example there is a Danish zoo which already holds the “Zootopia” name. Similarly, in Germany there is a children’s book which caused copyright conflict, which led to the film being released under the title Zoomania. Such changes, although practical for legal reasons, can sometimes cause a degree of confusion. Especially as there are numerous, low budget productions companies that go out of their way to produce similarly titled “mockbusters” whenever there are big, tentpole, releases. So for clarity, Zootopia 2 has been released in the UK as Zootropolis 2.
Stephen King’s dystopian story, The Running Man, was previously adapted very loosely in 1987, as a vehicle for Arnold Schwarzenegger. That version focused mainly on the “Battle Royale” element of the story and leaned heavily into Arnie’s personality, rather than the politics of the book. It also wasn’t well received by the author. Edgar Wright’s remake follows the source text a lot more closely and is far more interested in its political themes and wider social commentary. Furthermore, this version re-establishes the everyman quality of the hero of Ben Richards, rather than him being the muscle bound, ex-military hero as per Mr. Schwarzenegger’s prior interpretation. This time round, The Running Man uses a lot of the visual and narrative tropes of contemporary reality TV, making this forty three year old story very relevant to today’s viewers and couching the film in a style that is recognisable and accessible.
The Haunted Dolls House is a short film based on a story by M.R. James about a unique antique that is subject to supernatural phenomenon. Adapted by Stephen Gray and David Lilley, this is the third of three short films based upon James’ work that the pair have made. It stars Steven Dolton as Mr. Dillet, a collector of antique dolls houses, who acquires a bargain only to discover that it harbours a ghostly secret. Made on an extremely modest budget over the course of 2012 this clever, innovative and rather sinister adaptation is a fine example of short film creativity. It manages to offer a unique visual depiction of M.R. James’ classic story whilst capturing the unsettling quality of the author’s work. Like so many independently made short films it is clearly a labour of love, made with modest resources. It succinctly captures the spirit of the author’s work and is both innovative and rewarding.
A lot of people may know Luke Evans from the live action version of Beauty and the Beast or Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit trilogy. With his matinee idol good looks, charming Welsh demeanour and his “smoky” tenor singing voice, he projects a sense of old school stardom. Which brings us to No One Lives; a film which is a radical departure from his previous work. His performance is disconcerting to say the least and the film is somewhat unhinged. Directed by Ryuhei Kitamura, who made an interesting adaptation of Clive Barker’s The Midnight Meat Train, this cinematic outing is similarly replete with robust shocks and gore. There are some interesting ideas about the nature of violence, Stockholm Syndrome and whether one should deny or embrace one’s nature. However, these are ultimately minor asides. Philosophical musings in between bouts of surprisingly striking unpleasantness.
In the near future, Kepler 822, a research and drilling facility located at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, suffers a sudden and catastrophic structural failure. There are only six survivors. Mechanical engineer Norah Price (Kristen Stewart), Captain Lucien (Vincent Cassel), biologist Emily Haversham (Jessica Henwick), engineer Liam Smith (John Gallagher Jr.) and crew members Rodrigo (Mamoudou Athie) and Paul (T.J. Miller). As all the functional escape pods have been used and they are unable to contact the surface, the Captain suggests using pressurized suits to walk one mile across the ocean floor to the Roebuck 641 drill installation. There they will find more escape pods. However, it soon becomes apparent that the disaster was not caused by an undersea earthquake and that they are not alone as they make their journey.
One of the most common objections raised regarding the Jurassic Park/Jurassic World franchise is that the films are specifically made to obtain a PG-13 rating from the Motion Picture Association, for purely commercial reasons. Hence, in all films, there is little on screen violence and the dinosaurs are mainly portrayed as a threat and a means of providing jump scares. When a character is killed by a dinosaur it usually happens off screen, is obscured by something else in frame, or is shown in long shot with very little detail. The realities of being eaten alive by a predator are conspicuously absent. Hence, audiences looking for films featuring more graphic dinosaur attacks, have not been well catered for apart from some minor direct-to-video titles. Primitive War finally fills this gap in the market with a frenetic genre mashup that strives to punch above is budgetary weight.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
30 Days of Night (2007)
Every once in while an established genre will get a new interpretation that gives it fresh impetus. 30 Days of Night did exactly that to the Vampire mythos ten years ago and is a very good horror film as well. Based on a well-known series of graphic novels by Steve Niles and Ben Templesmith, it tells how a remote Alaskan town falls under siege by a group of the undead, during the extended period of darkness that comes in winter; the thirty days of night of the title. Local Sheriff Josh Hartnett suspects something is wrong when the remote towns transport and telecommunications are sabotaged. Is the vagrant arrested for these crimes a lunatic or a “familiar” for more sinister forces?
Every once in while an established genre will get a new interpretation that gives it fresh impetus. 30 Days of Night did exactly that to the Vampire mythos ten years ago and is a very good horror film as well. Based on a well-known series of graphic novels by Steve Niles and Ben Templesmith, it tells how a remote Alaskan town falls under siege by a group of the undead, during the extended period of darkness that comes in winter; the thirty days of night of the title. Local Sheriff Josh Hartnett suspects something is wrong when the remote towns transport and telecommunications are sabotaged. Is the vagrant arrested for these crimes a lunatic or a “familiar” for more sinister forces?
What is refreshing in this instance is the fact that the Vampires back story is left suitably vague. There is also a complete omission of any religious inference. There are no crucifixes wielded here. The human characters are also likeable. The themes of death and how we face it are explored with people you have sympathy for. The production also has some solid special effects. Be warned, there is a lot of brutal violence. Heads are hacked off rather than swept of the neck with a single blow. 30 Days of Night also attempts to join that exclusive cinematic club of showing a child killing on screen. However, as the child is a Vampire, it does not quite have the same impact.
I haven't enjoyed a film of this kind as much since Blade 1 and 2 and the seminal Near Dark, which is the revisionist vampire film by which all others must be judged. It is good to see the undead treated in a way other than the traditional Eastern European idiom with all the psycho-sexual connotations. No capes, no bats or camp accents. In this instance, they are simply a force of nature that needs to be endured like the winter nights themselves. Be warned, if you are a fan of traditional romantic conclusions, then you may balk at 30 Days of Night ending. The film is hard edged and doesn't pull its punches. Don't say I didn't tell you.
In the year 1860, Baron Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) faces execution by guillotine for the murders perpetrated by the creature he created. With the assistance of a hunchback named Karl (Oscar Quitak) he avoids death by beheading the priest who came to give him the last rites. The priest’s body is then mistakenly buried by the authorities. Three years later, Victor, now using the name Doctor Stein, has established himself as a prosperous physician in Karlsbrück, serving both affluent patients and the poor at a paupers’ hospital. Hans Kleve (Francis Matthews), a junior member of the medical council, recognises Victor and being an admirer, seeks to become his apprentice. Victor and Hans then undertake an experiment to transplant Karl’s living brain into a new, more refined body, rather than a grotesque monstrosity the Baron has previously made. Karl is eager to have a new healthy body, especially after encountering Margaret Conrad (Eunice Gayson), the charming new assistant at the hospital.
Exit 8 is a sophisticated and claustrophobic psychological thriller directed by Genki Kawamura, which skilfully transforms a minimalist indie walking-simulator game into a cinematic existential enigma. This overtly metaphorical film renders the repetitive nature and drudgery of modern working life into a physical environment in which the lead character is trapped and must find a way out. A random, brutal maze filled with an atmosphere of indifference to the lab rats that find themselves trapped within. Or is it their personal guilt that has put them there? Genki Kawamura’s psychological mystery draws inspiration from the Japanese video game of the same name, as well as from the cyclical nature of Groundhog Day and endless corridors of the Overlook Hotel in Kubrick’s The Shining. Although there are jump scares and some ghoulish imagery, this is not a horror vehicle. Instead this is a disquieting psychological drama with a strong sense of morality.
In 1968 the dilapidated freighter Corita hastily leaves Freetown to avoid a customs inspection. Captain Lansen (Eric Porter) has a cargo of dangerous explosives which he is smuggling so he can finally retire. His ship’s passengers also have reasons for leaving in a hurry. Dr. Webster (Nigel Stock), together with his daughter Unity (Suzanna leigh), is relocating due to his indiscretions with patients and illegal operations. Alcoholic pianist Harry Tyler (Tony Beckley) is aimlessly drifting from port to port. Eva Peters (Hildegard Knef) is fleeing from her husband with stolen bearer bonds which she intend to use to buy back her son from his evil clutches Caracas. Ricaldi (Ben Carruthers), a questionable lawyer, is pursuing Eva to retrieve the stolen bonds. First officer Hemmings (Neil McCallum) suggests that the ship should return to Freetown after an imminent Hurricane warning. The Captain asks the passengers and they are unanimous that they do not wish to return. However a mutinous crew, the bad weather and the instability of the explosives force everyone to abandon ship. The survivors find themselves adrift in a lifeboat surrounded by a strange carnivorous seaweed.
David Koepp is no stranger to genre cinema, having written the screenplay for such films as Jurassic Park, Spider-man and War of the Worlds. Where these titles are big budget, major studio productions, Cold Storage is a far more modest production with a smaller scope. Adapted from his own novel, the screenplay is by David Koepp and the film is directed by British film-maker Jonny Campbell. At first glance, Cold Storage seems a somewhat derivative science fiction horror film with a relatively modest budget, financed through a convoluted US and French co-production. Lurid green and red colours feature heavily in the marketing artwork and it is easy, after a cursory look, to write the film off as cheap, generic, direct-to-streaming filler. However, Cold Storage is prime example of why you should not judge a book by it’s cover, or in this case, a film by its posters and online advertising. It is in fact an amusing and fun endeavour that can fill an evening.
Despite being considered by many as an original story, The Abominable Snowman (1957) is in fact a remake of a made for television play, The Creature, that was originally broadcast in the UK in 1955. Hammer Films would often purchase the rights of popular TV programs and subsequently re-work them for mainstream, international cinema. Larger production budgets and fewer censorship restrictions allowed them to make their cinematic interpretations more lurid, thus commercially viable. Hence The Quatermass Xperiment, Quatermass II and Quatermass and the Pit were all given a big screen makeover and were commercially successful. The Abominable Snowman was written by acclaimed writer Nigel Kneale, who also wrote the original television drama and the aforementioned Quatermass trilogy. Although ostensibly marketed as a horror film this production is actually an interesting blend of psychological thriller and science fiction.
The Haunted Dolls House is a short film based on a story by M.R. James about a unique antique that is subject to supernatural phenomenon. Adapted by Stephen Gray and David Lilley, this is the third of three short films based upon James’ work that the pair have made. It stars Steven Dolton as Mr. Dillet, a collector of antique dolls houses, who acquires a bargain only to discover that it harbours a ghostly secret. Made on an extremely modest budget over the course of 2012 this clever, innovative and rather sinister adaptation is a fine example of short film creativity. It manages to offer a unique visual depiction of M.R. James’ classic story whilst capturing the unsettling quality of the author’s work. Like so many independently made short films it is clearly a labour of love, made with modest resources. It succinctly captures the spirit of the author’s work and is both innovative and rewarding.
A lot of people may know Luke Evans from the live action version of Beauty and the Beast or Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit trilogy. With his matinee idol good looks, charming Welsh demeanour and his “smoky” tenor singing voice, he projects a sense of old school stardom. Which brings us to No One Lives; a film which is a radical departure from his previous work. His performance is disconcerting to say the least and the film is somewhat unhinged. Directed by Ryuhei Kitamura, who made an interesting adaptation of Clive Barker’s The Midnight Meat Train, this cinematic outing is similarly replete with robust shocks and gore. There are some interesting ideas about the nature of violence, Stockholm Syndrome and whether one should deny or embrace one’s nature. However, these are ultimately minor asides. Philosophical musings in between bouts of surprisingly striking unpleasantness.
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 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Some films are made with the intention of starting a franchise, others evolve into one after a surprise box office success and lucrative sequels. Alien (1979) falls into the latter category. A mid-budget science fiction horror film that was well crafted and then benefited immensely by being released at just the right time. Sadly, many franchises become derailed and enter into a death spiral due to competing artistic visions, cynical studio politics and cinematic ignorance. This has certainly afflicted all subsequent Alien films after James Cameron’s magnificent Aliens (1986). Sometimes, a franchise can correct its course and do something fresh with the source material. Prey (2022) is a fine example of this with director Dan Trachtenberg bringing fresh vigour and intelligence back to the Predator movies. I believe that was the intention with Alien Romulus (2024). Sadly, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter is a popular entry among fans of the franchise. This is mainly due to the return of makeup artist, Tom Savini, who creates several notable death scenes and a bravura ending for Jason Voorhees. There is also an attempt by writer Barney Cohen to have a more involving story compared to previous entries in the series. Director Joseph Zito, who previously directed the above average slasher movie The Prowler AKA Rosemary’s Killer (1981), brings a harder edge to the proceedings, making Jason more menacing than in the previous instalment. As ever, the film was dismissed by the critics but performed well at the box office. Producer Frank Mancuso Jr fully intended for this film to be a definitive end to the series, as he was becoming increasingly concerned that his association with the franchise was having a negative impact upon his career.
Set directly after the events of the previous film, Friday the 13th Part III is again about a group of friends staying near Crystal Lake who encounter Jason Voorhees as he embarks upon another killing spree. Shot in 3D the film has a less sleazy tone than its predecessors although the formula remains the same. The set pieces and death scenes are more elaborate and less clinical, taking advantage of the 3D picture format. The film marks the first appearance of Jason's signature hockey mask, which subsequently became a trademark of both the character and the franchise. Originally conceived to be an end to the series of films, Friday the 13th Part III performed extremely well at the box office, earning $36.7 million on a budget of $2.2 million. As a result, the franchise was given a stay of execution and a further sequel was commissioned.
Originally, Friday the 13th Part 2 was intended to be an anthology film based on the superstition associated with the date. However, after the popularity of the original film's surprise ending, the producers opted to continue the story and mythology surrounding Camp Crystal Lake. This eventually became the parameters which all future films would broadly work within. Friday the 13th Part 2 is a more polished production than the first movie, benefitting from twice the budget of the original. The quick turnaround meant that Paramount Pictures could continue to capitalise on the popularity of the slasher genre. However, there was growing social pushback against these types of films, from Christian lobby groups and other “concerned parties”. Hence, Friday the 13th Part 2 ran into problems with the MPAA ratings board and cuts were imposed. Something that would continuously plague the franchise over the years.
Writing any kind of review for the original Friday the 13th movie seems somewhat redundant, as it has been analysed and written about numerous times before. If you’re interested in the film’s production as well as its subsequent impact on US cinema at the time, then there is an excellent summary on Wikipedia. Having recently rewatched the entire franchise, courtesy of the Shout Factory’s Friday the 13th Collection Deluxe Edition, I have a few thoughts I’d like to share. The picture quality of all the films is very good, offering a lot more visual information compared to previous releases. The amount of “extras” included in the box set is prodigious. I suspect that these are the best versions that we’re ever likely to see. Fans hoping that one day all the cut footage will be found and re-integrated into each film are likely to remain disappointed. Some material has surfaced but sadly a lot of deleted and extended scenes have been destroyed.
George A. Romero's Day Of The Dead (1985) is a bleak and remorseless masterpiece. The final entry in his “Dead Trilogy”, its central theme is that in a world on the brink of destruction, man is still the biggest threat to his own existence. It is well scripted, clinically accurate in its observations on human nature and thought provoking, despite having its budget cut just weeks before production commenced. 40 years later it is revered as a genre milestone and is considered one of Romero’s finest works. Sadly, the 2008 “remake” directed by Steve Miner, who has a background in slasher and exploitation movies, takes a contrasting approach, to say the least. It certainly has very little to do with Romero’s film and one can’t help but assume that it is nothing more than a cynical cash in. Setting aside comparisons with the original, this is not in any way a standout zombie film in its own right.
Although I was unaware of it, there was a guerrilla marketing campaign for Longlegs which was focused on the internet rather than traditional television adverts. Hence the film gained a lot of interest prior to its release and as well as some some disproportionate expectations. Then immediately after its theatrical debut, the matter was further compounded by a possible excess of gushing praise as the film was “over reviewed”. Therefore I maintained a degree of scepticism about Longlegs and tempered my expectations prior to watching it. Any film that is hailed as the next Silence of the Lambs, featuring a “traumatising” performance by Nicholas Cage needs to be keenly scrutinised so that its cinematic merits can be carefully separated from the surrounding hyperbole. After viewing I found Longlegs to be a finely honed, atmospheric and precisely targeted horror thriller but not the genre milestone that some would claim.
As a rule, it is always a challenge to end a trilogy of films successfully. Writing a satisfying denouement to a standalone movie is hard enough. To be able to conclude all pertinent story arcs and themes that have been sustained over three feature films, to everyone’s liking is far harder to achieve. In the case of The Final Conflict (1981), the last instalment of The Omen trilogy, writer Andrew Birkin does manage to resolve all of the external, internal and philosophical stakes, which are the fundamental components of a cinematic screenplay. Unfortunately, it is done in an incredibly underwhelming manner, which left audiences feeling cheated. The last time good defeated evil evil in such an unspectacular fashion was in Hammer’s To the Devil a Daughter (1976). This is why, in spite of solid production values, The Final Conflict is the least popular of the films about the Antichrist, Damien Thorn.
Halloween III: Season of the Witch is a film that often provokes a strong reaction from genre fans. This is mainly due to it not having any direct connection to the previous two films. The absence of Michael Myers in such a franchise was a serious mistake and the subsequent poor box office returns endorsed this. Yet if this film had been released as a separate product it may not have performed so poorly. After re-examining Halloween III: Season of the Witch there are many aspects of interest. Despite a troubled production, the film is an intriguing anomaly that tried to be different during a decade where the established horror formula was “stalk n' slash”. It does have a very bleak tone and some consider it to be mean spirited as the cast are killed off one by one. Perhaps theme of child sacrifice caused audiences to balk?
Ghostwatch is a controversial British horror “mockumentary” produced by the BBC that was first broadcast on October 31st 1992. Written by Stephen Volk and produced by Ruth Baumgarten it is now considered a milestone in UK broadcasting. This was mainly due to the strong reaction it provoked from the public, many of whom failed to grasp that it was a drama. At the time it raised serious questions about responsible programming and caused a furore in the British press. It has curiously never been shown since by the BBC. Ghostwatch remains a talking point to this day and is a text book example of the power of television as well as the publics enduring belief in the supernatural.
Event Horizon is a curious movie hybrid, mixing plot elements from classic sci-fi and horror genres. It has been labelled “Hellraiser in Space” by some lazy critics, although I think there's far more to it than that. Perhaps a more apt description would be a Gothic horror story set in space. The movie has garnered a cult reputation since its release in 1997, mainly due to its graphic imagery and troubled production history. It does indeed have some quite shocking sequences but the lightning editing does not show as much as some would think. Paramount forced director Paul W S Anderson to reduce the original one hundred and thirty minute running time down to a more manageable ninety, after unfavourable test screenings. Much of the violence was allegedly removed as a result of that process. Sadly nothing survives of the removed material other than a VHS workprint. Hence a restored director’s cut is therefore unlikely.
The peace of tranquillity of Santa Ynes, Utah, is shattered when the town becomes the focus of several hit and run deaths, by a mysterious and apparently driverless, black car. After the Sheriff (John Marley) is run down, it is down to Captain Wade Parent (James Brolin) and his deputies to protect the town from this sinister threat. Is the car simply a driven by a mad man or is there a more supernatural explanation? When the car menaces a local school marching band, the teachers and students take refuge in the nearby cemetery. Does the cars inability to enter consecrated ground provide a clue to its otherworldly origins and offer a potential solution? As the death count increases and the population becomes more fearful, the Captain and his team of deputies form a desperate plan to see if they can lure the car into a trap.
The key to success in the horror genre is to try and find an innovative new angle on tried and tested themes and tropes. The Night Flier is an often-overlooked gem, that takes a unique perspective on vampirism and features strong performances as well as an intelligent and thoughtful screenplay. It builds a sense of foreboding during it’s first two acts and teases audiences with some unpleasant prosthetic effects, courtesy of KNB EFX Group. The climax of the movie is both thought provoking and suitably unpleasant. Furthermore, The Night Flier even manages to make a coherent criticism of tabloid culture and morals of those journalists working in the industry. It’s a damn shame that this modest but well-crafted genre movie didn’t get the attention it deserved when it was initially released in 1997.
Dr. Terror's House of Horrors was the first portmanteau horror movie by Amicus Productions. The small British studio was founded by producers and screenwriters Milton Subotsky and Max Rosenberg. As the horror genre grew in popularity due to the success of Hammer films, Amicus saw the potential in the portmanteau format. Subotsky in particular held Ealing Studios 1945 classic Dead of Night in very high regard. Although only a modest budget movie, Dr. Terror's House of Horrors proved to be financially successful and led to a series of similarly structured films over the next decade. These included Torture Garden (1967), The House That Dripped Blood (1970), Asylum (1972), Tales from the Crypt (1972), The Vault of Horror (1973), From Beyond the Grave (1974),
Ghost Story is a deliberately superficial adaptation of the novel by Peter Straub. If you’ve read the book and are expecting a verbatim retelling of the plot, then you will be disappointed. It’s complex narrative structure and the abundance of characters do not immediately lend themselves to mainstream film making. However, if you like tales of the supernatural and solid performances from Hollywood legends, then this may well be for you. John Irvin has always been a workman like director and has therefore often been overlooked. Films such as Hamburger Hill and When Trumpets Fade show a great deal of focus and a clear understanding of the mechanics of cinema.
Classic Movie Themes: Coogan’s Bluff
Coogan's Bluff was the first of many movie collaborations between Clint Eastwood and legendary director Don Siegel. The film is a traditional “fish out of water” tale that still rings true today. Arizona cop, Coogan, is sent to New York to collect a prisoner. Unfortunately, he escapes, forcing Coogan to search through the weirdest and most dangerous place he's ever experienced; New York in 1968.
Lalo Schifrin's score for Coogan's Bluff, is a hip contemporary score (for its time) that has all the composer's trademark funk material. The music encompasses a variety of idioms from western to eastern, with elements of jazz, rock and funk. It really captures the mood of the times tapping into the sixties motif, with use of such instruments as tabla and sitar.
Coogan's Bluff was the first of many movie collaborations between Clint Eastwood and legendary director Don Siegel. The film is a traditional “fish out of water” tale that still rings true today. Arizona cop, Coogan, is sent to New York to collect a prisoner. Unfortunately, he escapes, forcing Coogan to search through the weirdest and most dangerous place he's ever experienced; New York in 1968.
Lalo Schifrin's score for Coogan's Bluff, is a hip contemporary score (for its time) that has all the composer's trademark funk material. The music encompasses a variety of idioms from western to eastern, with elements of jazz, rock and funk. It really captures the mood of the times tapping into the sixties motif, with use of such instruments as tabla and sitar.
One of the most memorable scenes in the movie is Coogan's visit to a night club. Nothing dates a film more than the inclusion of popular music or concert footage. Coogan's Bluff exemplifies this with its depiction of late sixties counter-culture. Viewers are treated to liquid light shows, psychedelic music, sexual liberation and drugs. The icing on the cake is the song played by the band, Pigeon-Toed Orange Peel. It’s a formulaic number that somehow manages to tread a fine line between cliché and satire, whilst still being devilishly catchy.
The Planet of the Apes movie franchise took a radical change of course with its third entry in the series. The first two films were set in the future and benefited from high production values to help realise a post apocalyptic earth. However, due to a substantial reduction of budget, Escape from the Planet of the Apes uses a time travel plot device to bring the ape protagonists to present day Los Angeles (1971 in this case). The result is a film with a much smaller narrative scope. However, although it lacks the science fiction spectacle of its predecessors, it features an interesting satirical exploration of celebrity culture and ponders what it is like to be deemed an enemy of the state. As ever, Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter provide exceptional lead performances as the Chimpanzees Cornelius and Zira. Escape from the Planet of the Apes also captures the pop culture vibe of seventies America.
Ronald Erle Grainer (11 August 1922 – 21 February 1981) was a prolific Australian composer who is best remembered for his work in the United Kingdom during the sixties and seventies. He wrote numerous notable scores and theme music for several iconic television shows such as Doctor Who, Steptoe and Son and Tales of the Unexpected. He also composed the soundtrack for several major motion pictures such as Some People (1962), The Assassination Bureau (1969) and The Omega Man (1971). Grainer relocated to London from Australia in 1952 but it was not until 1960 that he gained critical success after writing the music for the popular TV show Maigret. He subsequently received an Ivor Novello award for “Outstanding Composition for Film, TV or Radio”.
The following is about a cultural change. That is not to say that it’s a value judgement or one of those posts you so frequently read by bloggers of a certain age, that essentially boil down to “things were better in my day”. It is merely an observation and like all observations it is not 100% universal. There will always be exceptions to the rule. I am simply painting with broad strokes a general truism for your consideration. My point being that people listen, experience and enjoy music differently these days compared to how they did three to four decades ago. I’m not talking about the science of hearing or anything complex like that. I am merely highlighting the change in the way we choose to experience music and how that has an impact upon its creation and presentation. So like Anne Elk, presenting her theory on the Brontosaurus, here is the axiom at the heart of this post.
Allonsanfàn (1974) is an Italian historical drama film written and directed by Paolo and Vittorio Taviani. The title of the film derives from the first words of the French Revolutionary anthem La Marseillaise (Allons enfants, IE “Arise, children”). It is also the name of a character in the story. Set against the backdrop of the Italian Unification in early 19th-century Italy, Marcello Mastroianni stars as an ageing revolutionary, Fulvio Imbriani, who becomes disillusioned after the Restoration and endeavours to betray his companions, who are organising an insurrection in Southern Italy. Allonsanfàn is a complex film that is not immediately accessible to those unfamiliar with the intricacies of Italian political history nor the arthouse style of the Taviani brothers. However, it is visually arresting and features a rousing score by Ennio Morricone.
Jerry Goldsmith’s contribution to Star Trek is immense. Yet simply listing the films and TV episodes he wrote music for does not adequately encapsulate the significance of his contribution to the franchise. His majestic, thoughtful and uplifting musical scores provide an emotional foundation that reflects the core ethos of Star Trek. They also create an invaluable sense of continuity that spans multiple shows and movies. Perhaps the most obvious example of this is his iconic title music for Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979) that was subsequently adopted as the theme tune for Star Trek: The Next Generation. His work was held in such high regard, when Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989) ran into production issues, it was thought that a Jerry Goldsmith soundtrack may well elevate the film. Sadly it didn’t but his work on that instalment was outstanding and among his best.
Halloween (1978) is both a genre and cinematic milestone. It made stars of Jamie Lee Curtis and director John Carpenter as well as kickstarting the slasher genre that dominated the box office for the next 15 years. Unlike many of the inferior imitations that followed in its wake, Halloween is not a gorefest but a far more suspenseful and unsettling film. It’s shocks and sinister atmosphere are the result of sumptuous panavision cinematography by Dean Cundey and inventive editing by Tommy Wallace and Charles Bornstein. Another invaluable asset to the film’s effectiveness is John Carpenter minimalistic synth and piano score which perfectly embellishes the film with an air of menace. After 33 years and various re-arrangements in subsequent sequels, the original Halloween Theme is still as effective today as it was when the film was first released.
Tenebrae (1982) is probably Dario Argento’s most accessible “giallo” for mainstream audiences. Although violent, it is not as narratively complex as Deep Red (1975) or as bat shit crazy as Phenomena (1985). The story centres on popular American novelist Peter Neal (Anthony Fanciosa) who is in Rome to promote his latest book. Events take a turn for the worst when a series of murders appear to have been inspired by his work. The plot twists and turns, the director explores themes such as dualism along with sexual aberration and blood is copiously spattered across the white walled interiors of modernist buildings. It is slick, disturbing and has a pounding synth and rock score by former Goblin members, Claudio Simonetti, Fabio Pignatelli, and Massimo Morante.
An American Werewolf in London is a genre milestone and one of the few horror films that successfully manages to balance humour and suspense without mitigating the overall tone of the story. 40 years on from its theatrical release it still holds up well with its bitter sweet love story, tragic themes and ground breaking transformation effects by Rick Baker. Director John Landis never really bettered this concise and effective genre outing. It hits the mark in virtually every part of the production. However, there is one aspect of the film that does suffer as a result of the director’s personal choices. Whether it is to the detriment of the overall film is debatable. The point in question is the film’s soundtrack and the director’s focus upon the song Blue Moon by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart.
Before we start, no I am not writing about Alexander Courage’s classic main theme for the original Star Trek show. I can add nothing further to that particular discussion and it remains iconic and inspiring, even when distilled down to just the initial fanfare. In this post I want to draw your attention to another piece of music from Star Trek that has permeated its way into popular culture. A cue that when heard, if the listener is familiar with its provenance, will instantly conjure up images of flying drop kicks, ear claps and judo chops. A piece of music that can be added to pretty much any video footage and instantly make it more heroic. Yes, I am talking about what has become generically known as Star Trek “fight music”. Or more specifically, the "The Ancient Battle/2nd Kroykah" cue from Amok Time (S02E01) composed by Gerald Fried. The scene during the koon-ut-kal-if-fee ritual in which Spock fights Kirk on the planet Vulcan for complicated “reasons”.
Classical music has often been used to great effect in cinema since the advent of sound. It has certain advantages over bespoke compositions, in that it can imbue a scene with a sense of gravitas and emotionally connect with viewers who may already be familiar with the piece being played. Legendary director Stanley Kubrick famously rejected Alex North’s score for 2001: A space Odyssey after finding the classical tracks he used for the temporary soundtrack complement the visuals perfectly. Over the years, some particular pieces of classical music have proven to be very popular and flexible, thus appearing in a wide variety of films across multiple genres. Hence, I have chosen two well known tracks that demonstrate this. I would also like to highlight contemporary classical music and have also selected one example that I feel demonstrates how the genre sublimely compliments cinema.
If you mention The Pink Panther (1963) I’d hazard a guess that most people will instantly think of Inspector Clouseau (and possibly throw in a quote in faux French about “Minkeys”) or hum or whistle the iconic theme tune. It’s blend of cool sixties Jazz and Lounge is both classy and evocative. Henry Mancini’s contribution to the Pink Panther franchise is commensurate to that of Peter Sellers and Blake Edwards. If you removed his musical scores from any of the films they would be greatly diminished. In fact one can argue that the movies made in the eighties after Sellers’ death are greatly bolstered by Mancini’s intelligent and accomplished musical accompaniment. The franchise may have run out of steam but Mancini never did so.
Back in August 2018, I posted seven of my favourite tracks from various video games that I’ve played over the years. I thought recently that it was high time that I did the same again. So here are a further five musical cues that I especially enjoy. All of which contribute greatly to the respective games that they feature in. Unlike film composers, musicians that write for video games do not always enjoy comparable exposure or attention. Yet often they have a more complex remit, having to write material for dozens of hours of content, rather than just two or three. Furthermore, the complete soundtrack to many video games often remain conspicuously absent, with fans having to data mine the game client to find the tracks that they love. Which is why it is important for those that enjoy video game music to show their support. Perhaps then more publishers will release full and comprehensive game soundtracks for digital download.
It was Friday the 13th yesterday, so I thought it was about time that I added Harry Manfredini’s iconic score to the annals of Classic Movie Themes. The 1980 slasher movie Friday the 13th has become as legendary in the pantheon of cinematic horror history as John Carpenter’s Halloween. Although there are marked differences between these two films, both use minimalist musical scores extremely effectively to punctuate the proceedings and embellish the overall atmosphere. However, Manfedini did not want to provide viewers with obvious audio cues during scenes of building tension. He preferred to focus his score upon the activities of the franchise's iconic killer, Jason Voorhees, and hence have strong musical cues when he was on screen. This approach meant that he had to use a unique musical motif to denote potential tension, without diminishing its effect on the audience by excessive use of obvious and melodramatic cues.
Game of Death was Bruce Lee’s fourth Hong Kong martial arts movie. Due to the success of his previous films he found himself in a position where he could finally write and direct a project himself. Filmed in late 1972 and early 1973, the film was put on hold midway through production when Hollywood offered him a starring role in Enter the Dragon. He died shortly after completing the US backed movie that made him an international star, so Game of Death remained unfinished. Several years later the rights to the raw footage were sold and recycled for a new movie, that kept the name but bore little resemblance to Lee’s original vision. For most of Game of Death, Kim Tai-jong and Yuen Biao double for Bruce Lee and it is only in the final act that audiences actually get to see about 12 minutes of material that he shot himself. The 1978 release of Game of Death, directed by Robert Clouse, is a mess but remains a cinematic curiosity. The scenes which genuinely feature Bruce Lee are outstanding, even in an abridged form.
The Long Good Friday not only launched then career of Bob Hoskins but remains a uniquely British take on the gangster genre. Featuring authentic performances and a credible plot, the screenplay touches upon many of the social and political issues of the time; police corruption, the IRA, urban renewal and the decline of industry, along with EEC membership and the free-market economy. It’s a gritty and unrelenting drama that is still relevant today. Furthermore, the film is filled with quotable dialogue and has several stand out scenes that showcase Bob Hoskins’ smouldering performance. It’s also offers of “who’s who” of British character actors and there is one sequence still has the power to shock even today.
A few years ago, I wrote a post about cult movie soundtracks and how many of these movies are often blessed with a high quality score from an established composer. The subject came up again recently when I was visiting the British Film Institute with friends, and several other examples were discussed. Hence, I thought it would be prudent to write a follow up post with another selection of material, as it continues to amaze me how often the most appalling films can still have outstanding soundtracks. With this idea in mind I've collated five films that are for various reasons are labelled “cult” and have suffered the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” over the years. All have scores of interests and note, though for different reasons. I have chosen a track from each soundtrack which I think highlights the musical excellence and integrity of the composers involved. The genres are varied as are the musical styles and nuances of each piece. All clearly demonstrate how a well-conceived score can embellish and enhance a movie, effectively becoming a character in its own right.
Lords of the Fallen is an action role-playing game from 2014, played from a third-person perspective. It is broadly in the same idiom to Darksiders and Dark Souls with the emphasis on complex and challenging combat. And it is for that reason that I didn’t get on with this title when I bought it in a Steam sale a few years ago. I felt that the long, protracted fights were an impediment to the narrative, which I quite enjoyed. However, the game was designed this way to appeal to the combat focused gamer and “git gud” culture. But I think that it’s important to try different genres of games from time to time and to step occasionally out of your comfort zone. I would cite the Hand of Fate series as a positive example of this. Both of those titles are from a genre I wouldn’t usually consider and playing them turned out to be a very positive experience
Alien is a unique genre milestone. It challenged the established aesthetic created by 2001: A Space Odyssey of space travel being pristine, clinical and high tech and replaced it with a grimy, industrial quality. The space tug Nostromo is also a conspicuously “blue collar”, civilian venture, underwritten by a large corporation. As for H. R Giger’s xenomorph, it redefined the depiction of extraterrestrial life in movies. Director Ridley Scott brought visual style and atmosphere to particularly unglamorous and dismal setting. He also scared the hell out of audiences at the time with his slow burn story structure and editing style that hints, rather than shows. Overall, Alien is a text book example of how to make a horror movie and put a new spin on a classic and well-trodden concept.
James Horner was a prolific, yet consistently good composer with a broad range of styles. Consider his score for 48 Hrs with its Jazz under currents and then compare it to his grand swashbuckling approach to Krull. They are radically different soundtracks, but both are extremely effective in embellishing their respective motion pictures. That was James Horner great talent. He knew when to be theatrical and bombastic but could also dial it back and be subtle, gentle and delicate. It made his body of work very diverse and memorable.
James Horner, although possessing a very broad and eclectic musical range, was in many respects a very traditional composer. He was certainly au fait with works of such giants as Miklós Rózsa, Korngold and Bernard Herrmann and it often manifested itself in his music through his use of the leitmotif. Perhaps the reason James Horner was so consistently good and crafted so many outstanding pieces of music, is because he never saw his profession as just a means to an end. As he said in an interview once, “I don’t look at this as just a job. I see music as art”.
Star Trek: Enterprise was the first show in the Star Trek pantheon to have a song performed by an established artist play over the opening credits, rather than a traditional theme tune. Up until 2001, the franchise had maintained a more formal approach, established with the iconic introduction to the original series composed by Alexander Courage. Needless to say, such a radical departure from established practise brought about consternation and debate among fans. In some respects, you can argue that point about the entire show itself, but that as they say, is an entirely different blog post. Needless to say, the dislike and hatred that the song Where My Heart Will Take Me engendered in certain quarters, lead to a petition to have it removed. Needless to say, this movement failed, and the show continued using it for four seasons. Seventeen years on this particular debacle has now died down and the song is often just referenced ironically by fans as an amusing anecdote and piece of Trek trivia.
According to Wikipedia “Hawk the Slayer is a 1980 British sword and sorcery adventure film directed by Terry Marcel and starring John Terry and Jack Palance. The film has developed a cult following”. That doesn’t do the movie justice by any reckoning. Hawk the Slayer is a quirky, low budget, high camp fantasy movie that compensates for its budgetary shortcoming by being so preposterously silly. It is loaded with hard boiled, fantasy steeped dialogue that parodies well known genre tropes. It treads a fine line between utter bilge and stupid fun. It is very much a product of its time and is also filled with British character actors. Some viewers will see nothing more than a cheap and cheerful cash-in on the eighties Sword and Sorcery boom. Others will delight at this inventive, stylised and silly fantasy orientated outing. Such is the nature of cult movies.
Film producer Julian Blaustein had a long-standing desire to make a film that addressed the fears and concerns of the post war Atomic Age. With the backing from Fox Studio Executive Darryl F. Zanuck, he hired screenwriter Edmund North to adapt the short story Farewell to the Master by Harry Bates. The screenplay provided a moral commentary about the ongoing arms race and featured an alien visitor with Christ like qualities who delivers an apocalyptic message. Veteran director Robert Wise was brought in head the project and a fine cast of established characters actors such as Michael Rennie, Patricia Neal Hugh Marlowe and Sam Jaffe was assembled. The finished movie has proven to be one of the greatest science fiction movies ever; it is The Day the Earth Stood Still made in 1951.
King Solomon’s Mines is a 1985 Cannon Films production based on the pulp works of H. Rider Haggard. It was quickly made to cash in on the ongoing success of Indiana Jones franchise, although the finished movie bears little resemblance to the classic original novel. Like most Cannon movies from that boom era, it was a cheap and fast enterprise that superficially sported a good cast, but ultimately didn’t do much with them. Veteran director J. Lee Thompson favoured a light and comic approach to the material, as the film’s budget could hardly sustain any major notable set pieces. Yet, it proved popular enough at the box office to warrant a sequel the following year. Allan Quatermain and the Lost City of Gold proved to be as equally silly but by then the public’s interest had waned.
A ten months ago, I wrote about the LOTRO soundtrack and listed some of my favourite tracks. This time round rather than just limit myself to music from one game, I thought it may be more interesting to broaden the remit. So, I have decided to upload seven of my favourite tracks and music cues from various games I have played over the last two decades. As with cinema, the soundtrack of a game plays a very important role. It can make a substantial impact on the players perceptions and enjoyment. The following tracks are examples that I feel have greatly enhanced a game. They’re also ones that I find particularly enjoyable. They are not in any order of preference.
Paul Verhoeven has seldom made a movie without some semblance of controversy associated with it, and his 1992 neo-noir Basic Instinct was no different. Even before its US release, Basic Instinct courted controversy due over its overt sexuality and graphic depiction of violence. It was strongly opposed by gay rights activists, who criticised the film's depiction of homosexual relationships and the portrayal of a bisexual woman as a homocidal narcissistic psychopath. The opening murder with an icepick is still shocking twenty six years later and is an excellent showcase for makeup FX artists Rob Bottin.
You can write pages on Gerry Anderson's 1968 Supermarionation series Joe 90. There's the morally ambiguous premise of giving an emotionally immature nine-year-old the experiences of an adult. Then the psychological effects of allowing him to kill at will. Then there's the perennial issue of scientists prostituting their skills to the intelligence community. One can also reflect upon the absence of any major female characters in the series and how that may impact upon Joe himself. Finally, when one finally arrives she's a gold-digging bitch who tries to exploit Joe’s Dad, Professor McClaine. Joe 90 is certainly a psychiatrist’s dream subject.
Despite the popularity of the TV show in 1965, the two spinoff Thunderbirds feature films were both box offices failures. This has often been attributed to the indifferently written screenplays that seem to have completely missed the sense of suspense that the fifty-minute episodes achieved. Both feature films feel rather slow and like extended episodes rather than big budget extravaganzas. They fail to do anything different with established characters and apart from showcasing more extensive miniature effects in a widescreen format, don’t really have much more to offer. It’s curious that the winning, character driven formula that worked on television was overlooked for these big screen outings.
I grew up during the seventies when network TV shows still put a lot of thought and effort into such things as their theme tune. It was a decade littered with memorable tracks that captured the essence of the shows they came from. Many have now become integral aspects of popular culture, leading to countless internet memes as well as becoming the ringtones of choice for many a fortysomething. However, things are very different now. You can have a staggeringly good theme for your show, but it can't possibly be longer than thirty seconds. And don’t think for a moment that viewers can listen to it again at the end, as it has now become standard practice to compress the credits into a third of the TV screen and preview what's coming next, while some link announcer spouts inanities. Mercifully, cable and streaming companies tend to treat their TV shows with greater respect. The lack of commercial advertising ensures a longer program duration and hence more focus on a theme tune. However, network TV still commands big audiences, yet hasn’t in recent years produced any TV show themes of note.
The Asphyx (1973)
The Asphyx (AKA The Horror of Death) was released in 1973, just as the as the horror genre was about to be totally redefined by The Exorcist forever. William Friedkin’s magnum opus moved the genre away from its traditional Gothic based, literate and low budget roots and took the horror movie into the realm of the blockbuster. Special effects and shock proved to be more bankable than the old school approach of studios such as Hammer. That's one of the reasons why The Asphyx was a box-office flop. Fondly remembered by a few as a "thinking man's horror film" this cinematic curiosity’s greatest asset is also its Achilles Heel. The movie is perhaps too plot heavy and cerebral, failing to give even the most patient of audiences the shocks that they craved. Since its release this film has been seldom seen on television and has often been poorly treated on home media.
The Asphyx (AKA The Horror of Death) was released in 1973, just as the as the horror genre was about to be totally redefined by The Exorcist forever. William Friedkin’s magnum opus moved the genre away from its traditional Gothic based, literate and low budget roots and took the horror movie into the realm of the blockbuster. Special effects and shock proved to be more bankable than the old school approach of studios such as Hammer. That's one of the reasons why The Asphyx was a box-office flop. Fondly remembered by a few as a "thinking man's horror film" this cinematic curiosity’s greatest asset is also its Achilles Heel. The movie is perhaps too plot heavy and cerebral, failing to give even the most patient of audiences the shocks that they craved. Since its release this film has been seldom seen on television and has often been poorly treated on home media.
The film’s premise is simple but intriguing. A nineteenth century British philanthropist and amateur psychic researcher embarks on a fateful quest for immortality. Sir Hugo Cunningham (nicely played by Robert Stephens) after experimenting with taking photographs of dying people, discovers the presence of a nebulous spirit of the dead, known in mythology as the Asphyx. It appears at the moment of an individual’s death and is only visible via photographic plate. Sir Hugo becomes obsessed with capturing his own Asphyx and thus ensuring his immortality, so he can pursue a life of science. However, this enterprise does not progress as Sir Hugo expects and there are consequences both for himself and his family.
With its verbose, literate script, well defined characters and fascinating themes, The Asphyx is the epitome of the low budget style and creativity that became passé in the early to mid- seventies. The chills are subtle but effective under the direction of Peter Newbrook and the widescreen cinematography by Freddie Young adds polish as well as elegance to the proceedings. Filled with fa oreboding atmosphere and an accurate period production design, this is an intelligently conceived horror film that relies more on story than shocks. There is little violence and the only visual effects are those of the screaming Asphyx as Sir Hugo attempts to capture it. These are simplistic and brief.
The plot and themes of this film reflect the thinking of many psychic researchers of this period. Vaguely similar ideas were explored in the film Flatliners, however, one cannot compare the two in any other fashion. The Asphyx has a creative plot that avoids some of the usual cinematic and genre clichés. The drama between the central characters is well conceived and holds the audience's attention. The final codicil is haunting, memorable and somewhat sad. Overall The Asphyx is a minor horror classic that deserves far wider recognition. I therefore wholeheartedly recommended it to more discerning viewers that prefer plot driven narratives over cheap scares.
In the year 1860, Baron Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) faces execution by guillotine for the murders perpetrated by the creature he created. With the assistance of a hunchback named Karl (Oscar Quitak) he avoids death by beheading the priest who came to give him the last rites. The priest’s body is then mistakenly buried by the authorities. Three years later, Victor, now using the name Doctor Stein, has established himself as a prosperous physician in Karlsbrück, serving both affluent patients and the poor at a paupers’ hospital. Hans Kleve (Francis Matthews), a junior member of the medical council, recognises Victor and being an admirer, seeks to become his apprentice. Victor and Hans then undertake an experiment to transplant Karl’s living brain into a new, more refined body, rather than a grotesque monstrosity the Baron has previously made. Karl is eager to have a new healthy body, especially after encountering Margaret Conrad (Eunice Gayson), the charming new assistant at the hospital.
Exit 8 is a sophisticated and claustrophobic psychological thriller directed by Genki Kawamura, which skilfully transforms a minimalist indie walking-simulator game into a cinematic existential enigma. This overtly metaphorical film renders the repetitive nature and drudgery of modern working life into a physical environment in which the lead character is trapped and must find a way out. A random, brutal maze filled with an atmosphere of indifference to the lab rats that find themselves trapped within. Or is it their personal guilt that has put them there? Genki Kawamura’s psychological mystery draws inspiration from the Japanese video game of the same name, as well as from the cyclical nature of Groundhog Day and endless corridors of the Overlook Hotel in Kubrick’s The Shining. Although there are jump scares and some ghoulish imagery, this is not a horror vehicle. Instead this is a disquieting psychological drama with a strong sense of morality.
In 1968 the dilapidated freighter Corita hastily leaves Freetown to avoid a customs inspection. Captain Lansen (Eric Porter) has a cargo of dangerous explosives which he is smuggling so he can finally retire. His ship’s passengers also have reasons for leaving in a hurry. Dr. Webster (Nigel Stock), together with his daughter Unity (Suzanna leigh), is relocating due to his indiscretions with patients and illegal operations. Alcoholic pianist Harry Tyler (Tony Beckley) is aimlessly drifting from port to port. Eva Peters (Hildegard Knef) is fleeing from her husband with stolen bearer bonds which she intend to use to buy back her son from his evil clutches Caracas. Ricaldi (Ben Carruthers), a questionable lawyer, is pursuing Eva to retrieve the stolen bonds. First officer Hemmings (Neil McCallum) suggests that the ship should return to Freetown after an imminent Hurricane warning. The Captain asks the passengers and they are unanimous that they do not wish to return. However a mutinous crew, the bad weather and the instability of the explosives force everyone to abandon ship. The survivors find themselves adrift in a lifeboat surrounded by a strange carnivorous seaweed.
David Koepp is no stranger to genre cinema, having written the screenplay for such films as Jurassic Park, Spider-man and War of the Worlds. Where these titles are big budget, major studio productions, Cold Storage is a far more modest production with a smaller scope. Adapted from his own novel, the screenplay is by David Koepp and the film is directed by British film-maker Jonny Campbell. At first glance, Cold Storage seems a somewhat derivative science fiction horror film with a relatively modest budget, financed through a convoluted US and French co-production. Lurid green and red colours feature heavily in the marketing artwork and it is easy, after a cursory look, to write the film off as cheap, generic, direct-to-streaming filler. However, Cold Storage is prime example of why you should not judge a book by it’s cover, or in this case, a film by its posters and online advertising. It is in fact an amusing and fun endeavour that can fill an evening.
Despite being considered by many as an original story, The Abominable Snowman (1957) is in fact a remake of a made for television play, The Creature, that was originally broadcast in the UK in 1955. Hammer Films would often purchase the rights of popular TV programs and subsequently re-work them for mainstream, international cinema. Larger production budgets and fewer censorship restrictions allowed them to make their cinematic interpretations more lurid, thus commercially viable. Hence The Quatermass Xperiment, Quatermass II and Quatermass and the Pit were all given a big screen makeover and were commercially successful. The Abominable Snowman was written by acclaimed writer Nigel Kneale, who also wrote the original television drama and the aforementioned Quatermass trilogy. Although ostensibly marketed as a horror film this production is actually an interesting blend of psychological thriller and science fiction.
The Haunted Dolls House is a short film based on a story by M.R. James about a unique antique that is subject to supernatural phenomenon. Adapted by Stephen Gray and David Lilley, this is the third of three short films based upon James’ work that the pair have made. It stars Steven Dolton as Mr. Dillet, a collector of antique dolls houses, who acquires a bargain only to discover that it harbours a ghostly secret. Made on an extremely modest budget over the course of 2012 this clever, innovative and rather sinister adaptation is a fine example of short film creativity. It manages to offer a unique visual depiction of M.R. James’ classic story whilst capturing the unsettling quality of the author’s work. Like so many independently made short films it is clearly a labour of love, made with modest resources. It succinctly captures the spirit of the author’s work and is both innovative and rewarding.
A lot of people may know Luke Evans from the live action version of Beauty and the Beast or Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit trilogy. With his matinee idol good looks, charming Welsh demeanour and his “smoky” tenor singing voice, he projects a sense of old school stardom. Which brings us to No One Lives; a film which is a radical departure from his previous work. His performance is disconcerting to say the least and the film is somewhat unhinged. Directed by Ryuhei Kitamura, who made an interesting adaptation of Clive Barker’s The Midnight Meat Train, this cinematic outing is similarly replete with robust shocks and gore. There are some interesting ideas about the nature of violence, Stockholm Syndrome and whether one should deny or embrace one’s nature. However, these are ultimately minor asides. Philosophical musings in between bouts of surprisingly striking unpleasantness.
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 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Some films are made with the intention of starting a franchise, others evolve into one after a surprise box office success and lucrative sequels. Alien (1979) falls into the latter category. A mid-budget science fiction horror film that was well crafted and then benefited immensely by being released at just the right time. Sadly, many franchises become derailed and enter into a death spiral due to competing artistic visions, cynical studio politics and cinematic ignorance. This has certainly afflicted all subsequent Alien films after James Cameron’s magnificent Aliens (1986). Sometimes, a franchise can correct its course and do something fresh with the source material. Prey (2022) is a fine example of this with director Dan Trachtenberg bringing fresh vigour and intelligence back to the Predator movies. I believe that was the intention with Alien Romulus (2024). Sadly, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter is a popular entry among fans of the franchise. This is mainly due to the return of makeup artist, Tom Savini, who creates several notable death scenes and a bravura ending for Jason Voorhees. There is also an attempt by writer Barney Cohen to have a more involving story compared to previous entries in the series. Director Joseph Zito, who previously directed the above average slasher movie The Prowler AKA Rosemary’s Killer (1981), brings a harder edge to the proceedings, making Jason more menacing than in the previous instalment. As ever, the film was dismissed by the critics but performed well at the box office. Producer Frank Mancuso Jr fully intended for this film to be a definitive end to the series, as he was becoming increasingly concerned that his association with the franchise was having a negative impact upon his career.
Set directly after the events of the previous film, Friday the 13th Part III is again about a group of friends staying near Crystal Lake who encounter Jason Voorhees as he embarks upon another killing spree. Shot in 3D the film has a less sleazy tone than its predecessors although the formula remains the same. The set pieces and death scenes are more elaborate and less clinical, taking advantage of the 3D picture format. The film marks the first appearance of Jason's signature hockey mask, which subsequently became a trademark of both the character and the franchise. Originally conceived to be an end to the series of films, Friday the 13th Part III performed extremely well at the box office, earning $36.7 million on a budget of $2.2 million. As a result, the franchise was given a stay of execution and a further sequel was commissioned.
Originally, Friday the 13th Part 2 was intended to be an anthology film based on the superstition associated with the date. However, after the popularity of the original film's surprise ending, the producers opted to continue the story and mythology surrounding Camp Crystal Lake. This eventually became the parameters which all future films would broadly work within. Friday the 13th Part 2 is a more polished production than the first movie, benefitting from twice the budget of the original. The quick turnaround meant that Paramount Pictures could continue to capitalise on the popularity of the slasher genre. However, there was growing social pushback against these types of films, from Christian lobby groups and other “concerned parties”. Hence, Friday the 13th Part 2 ran into problems with the MPAA ratings board and cuts were imposed. Something that would continuously plague the franchise over the years.
Writing any kind of review for the original Friday the 13th movie seems somewhat redundant, as it has been analysed and written about numerous times before. If you’re interested in the film’s production as well as its subsequent impact on US cinema at the time, then there is an excellent summary on Wikipedia. Having recently rewatched the entire franchise, courtesy of the Shout Factory’s Friday the 13th Collection Deluxe Edition, I have a few thoughts I’d like to share. The picture quality of all the films is very good, offering a lot more visual information compared to previous releases. The amount of “extras” included in the box set is prodigious. I suspect that these are the best versions that we’re ever likely to see. Fans hoping that one day all the cut footage will be found and re-integrated into each film are likely to remain disappointed. Some material has surfaced but sadly a lot of deleted and extended scenes have been destroyed.
George A. Romero's Day Of The Dead (1985) is a bleak and remorseless masterpiece. The final entry in his “Dead Trilogy”, its central theme is that in a world on the brink of destruction, man is still the biggest threat to his own existence. It is well scripted, clinically accurate in its observations on human nature and thought provoking, despite having its budget cut just weeks before production commenced. 40 years later it is revered as a genre milestone and is considered one of Romero’s finest works. Sadly, the 2008 “remake” directed by Steve Miner, who has a background in slasher and exploitation movies, takes a contrasting approach, to say the least. It certainly has very little to do with Romero’s film and one can’t help but assume that it is nothing more than a cynical cash in. Setting aside comparisons with the original, this is not in any way a standout zombie film in its own right.
Although I was unaware of it, there was a guerrilla marketing campaign for Longlegs which was focused on the internet rather than traditional television adverts. Hence the film gained a lot of interest prior to its release and as well as some some disproportionate expectations. Then immediately after its theatrical debut, the matter was further compounded by a possible excess of gushing praise as the film was “over reviewed”. Therefore I maintained a degree of scepticism about Longlegs and tempered my expectations prior to watching it. Any film that is hailed as the next Silence of the Lambs, featuring a “traumatising” performance by Nicholas Cage needs to be keenly scrutinised so that its cinematic merits can be carefully separated from the surrounding hyperbole. After viewing I found Longlegs to be a finely honed, atmospheric and precisely targeted horror thriller but not the genre milestone that some would claim.
As a rule, it is always a challenge to end a trilogy of films successfully. Writing a satisfying denouement to a standalone movie is hard enough. To be able to conclude all pertinent story arcs and themes that have been sustained over three feature films, to everyone’s liking is far harder to achieve. In the case of The Final Conflict (1981), the last instalment of The Omen trilogy, writer Andrew Birkin does manage to resolve all of the external, internal and philosophical stakes, which are the fundamental components of a cinematic screenplay. Unfortunately, it is done in an incredibly underwhelming manner, which left audiences feeling cheated. The last time good defeated evil evil in such an unspectacular fashion was in Hammer’s To the Devil a Daughter (1976). This is why, in spite of solid production values, The Final Conflict is the least popular of the films about the Antichrist, Damien Thorn.
Halloween III: Season of the Witch is a film that often provokes a strong reaction from genre fans. This is mainly due to it not having any direct connection to the previous two films. The absence of Michael Myers in such a franchise was a serious mistake and the subsequent poor box office returns endorsed this. Yet if this film had been released as a separate product it may not have performed so poorly. After re-examining Halloween III: Season of the Witch there are many aspects of interest. Despite a troubled production, the film is an intriguing anomaly that tried to be different during a decade where the established horror formula was “stalk n' slash”. It does have a very bleak tone and some consider it to be mean spirited as the cast are killed off one by one. Perhaps theme of child sacrifice caused audiences to balk?
Ghostwatch is a controversial British horror “mockumentary” produced by the BBC that was first broadcast on October 31st 1992. Written by Stephen Volk and produced by Ruth Baumgarten it is now considered a milestone in UK broadcasting. This was mainly due to the strong reaction it provoked from the public, many of whom failed to grasp that it was a drama. At the time it raised serious questions about responsible programming and caused a furore in the British press. It has curiously never been shown since by the BBC. Ghostwatch remains a talking point to this day and is a text book example of the power of television as well as the publics enduring belief in the supernatural.
Event Horizon is a curious movie hybrid, mixing plot elements from classic sci-fi and horror genres. It has been labelled “Hellraiser in Space” by some lazy critics, although I think there's far more to it than that. Perhaps a more apt description would be a Gothic horror story set in space. The movie has garnered a cult reputation since its release in 1997, mainly due to its graphic imagery and troubled production history. It does indeed have some quite shocking sequences but the lightning editing does not show as much as some would think. Paramount forced director Paul W S Anderson to reduce the original one hundred and thirty minute running time down to a more manageable ninety, after unfavourable test screenings. Much of the violence was allegedly removed as a result of that process. Sadly nothing survives of the removed material other than a VHS workprint. Hence a restored director’s cut is therefore unlikely.
The peace of tranquillity of Santa Ynes, Utah, is shattered when the town becomes the focus of several hit and run deaths, by a mysterious and apparently driverless, black car. After the Sheriff (John Marley) is run down, it is down to Captain Wade Parent (James Brolin) and his deputies to protect the town from this sinister threat. Is the car simply a driven by a mad man or is there a more supernatural explanation? When the car menaces a local school marching band, the teachers and students take refuge in the nearby cemetery. Does the cars inability to enter consecrated ground provide a clue to its otherworldly origins and offer a potential solution? As the death count increases and the population becomes more fearful, the Captain and his team of deputies form a desperate plan to see if they can lure the car into a trap.
The key to success in the horror genre is to try and find an innovative new angle on tried and tested themes and tropes. The Night Flier is an often-overlooked gem, that takes a unique perspective on vampirism and features strong performances as well as an intelligent and thoughtful screenplay. It builds a sense of foreboding during it’s first two acts and teases audiences with some unpleasant prosthetic effects, courtesy of KNB EFX Group. The climax of the movie is both thought provoking and suitably unpleasant. Furthermore, The Night Flier even manages to make a coherent criticism of tabloid culture and morals of those journalists working in the industry. It’s a damn shame that this modest but well-crafted genre movie didn’t get the attention it deserved when it was initially released in 1997.
Dr. Terror's House of Horrors was the first portmanteau horror movie by Amicus Productions. The small British studio was founded by producers and screenwriters Milton Subotsky and Max Rosenberg. As the horror genre grew in popularity due to the success of Hammer films, Amicus saw the potential in the portmanteau format. Subotsky in particular held Ealing Studios 1945 classic Dead of Night in very high regard. Although only a modest budget movie, Dr. Terror's House of Horrors proved to be financially successful and led to a series of similarly structured films over the next decade. These included Torture Garden (1967), The House That Dripped Blood (1970), Asylum (1972), Tales from the Crypt (1972), The Vault of Horror (1973), From Beyond the Grave (1974),
Ghost Story is a deliberately superficial adaptation of the novel by Peter Straub. If you’ve read the book and are expecting a verbatim retelling of the plot, then you will be disappointed. It’s complex narrative structure and the abundance of characters do not immediately lend themselves to mainstream film making. However, if you like tales of the supernatural and solid performances from Hollywood legends, then this may well be for you. John Irvin has always been a workman like director and has therefore often been overlooked. Films such as Hamburger Hill and When Trumpets Fade show a great deal of focus and a clear understanding of the mechanics of cinema.
Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
As a sequel is due out in September, I thought I’d revisit Kingsman: The Secret Service. Contrary to the movies titles and the implied homage seen in the various trailers, the film is not as clichéd as the genre it's set in. Nor does it draw too heavily from its graphic novel source material. As with Kick Ass director Matthew Vaughn has managed to smooth over the rough edges of this films antecedents and create a rather unique, stylised and extremely entertaining hybrid. It is a somewhat niche market undertaking and won't appeal to all audiences but if you like all out action, knowing satire and a liberal dose of gallows humour then this movie is most likely for you.
As a sequel is due out in September, I thought I’d revisit Kingsman: The Secret Service. Contrary to the movies titles and the implied homage seen in the various trailers, the film is not as clichéd as the genre it's set in. Nor does it draw too heavily from its graphic novel source material. As with Kick Ass director Matthew Vaughn has managed to smooth over the rough edges of this films antecedents and create a rather unique, stylised and extremely entertaining hybrid. It is a somewhat niche market undertaking and won't appeal to all audiences but if you like all out action, knowing satire and a liberal dose of gallows humour then this movie is most likely for you.
Kingsman is an independent international agency specialising in the elimination of global terrorist threats; something they like to do with as much panache and class as possible. After the death of one of their operatives, Kingsman agent Harry Heart (Colin Firth) decides to replace him with a rather disreputable, unemployed youth called Eggsy (Egerton), whose father was in fact a fellow Kingsman. Thus, follows a fish out of water tale, as Eggsy has to pass the rigours of the Kingsman training program, while the agency has to counter the machinations of multi-billionaire entrepreneur Richmond Valentine (Jackson) and his obligatory plan for world domination.
Now this is all very contrived and certainly there's a lot of plot themes that we've seen before but the movie has an incredible sense of style and some of the most dynamic and fluid action scenes of recent years. Let me stress that this is really over the top gratuitous stuff, yet it works perfectly within its own internal logic. Colin Firth is a pleasure to watch playing against type and adapting to the material effortlessly. The set piece in which single handedly slays an entire church congregation that has become psychotic, is very impressive. Michael Caine, Mark Strong and Samuel L. Jackson also greatly elevate the proceedings. I thought that Taron Egerton as Eggsy would be the movie weakest link but he surprisingly makes the role his own.
Sadly, the movie does have a flaw running through it and it's based around the institutionalised sexism that has always been prevalent in this genre. Consider any Connery Bond movie and you'll get the idea. Matthew Vaughn and Jane Goldman strive to satirise this theme but it ends out having the reverse effect and somewhat derails the final act. The gag at the end of the film in which Princess Tilde gives Eggsy his “reward” is somewhat tasteless. It's a shame because I'm pretty sure that was not the intention but tonally this doesn't work. Yet this isn't an enough of a defect to spoil the entire movie, which in other respects has quite a moral undertone.
Kingsman: The Secret Service was a surprise hit for Twentieth Century Fox back in 2015. The film had a production cost of $81 million but saw a total box office gross of $414,351,546, which is a handsome return by Hollywood standards. Therefore a sequel was inevitable and so we have Kingsman: The Golden Circle hitting the UK cinemas on 29th September. The budget has now increased to $140 million but the writing and directing talent remains the same. Hopefully, audiences will be given a similarly stylised and satirical take on the international spy genre, that will prove as entertaining as the first. I’m happy to give the movie the benefit of the doubt, because after all “manners maketh man”.
Mainstream films are easy to recommend to people. They’re usually formulaic, work within clear parameters and they’re not controversial. Most people, when viewing such film on someone else’s suggestion, are left with a fairly simply choice. Did they like it or not? Whatever the outcome, no feathers are ruffled. No one looks at you askance afterwards and says “why the hell did you think I’d like that piece of shit”? If something like this happens, then you have clearly not recommended a mainstream film. Perhaps you’ve suggested something that’s a little more of an acquired taste. Something niche, from a very specific sub-genre. Which brings me neatly to Blazing Magnum AKA Strange Shadows in an Empty Room (1976). The US title gives the impression that this film is a hard boiled cop thriller, like so many others that followed in the wake of Dirty Harry. But there’s a clue in the European title. Yes, this movie has more than just a whiff of a giallo about it.
In the year 1860, Baron Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) faces execution by guillotine for the murders perpetrated by the creature he created. With the assistance of a hunchback named Karl (Oscar Quitak) he avoids death by beheading the priest who came to give him the last rites. The priest’s body is then mistakenly buried by the authorities. Three years later, Victor, now using the name Doctor Stein, has established himself as a prosperous physician in Karlsbrück, serving both affluent patients and the poor at a paupers’ hospital. Hans Kleve (Francis Matthews), a junior member of the medical council, recognises Victor and being an admirer, seeks to become his apprentice. Victor and Hans then undertake an experiment to transplant Karl’s living brain into a new, more refined body, rather than a grotesque monstrosity the Baron has previously made. Karl is eager to have a new healthy body, especially after encountering Margaret Conrad (Eunice Gayson), the charming new assistant at the hospital.
This movie questionnaire was originally created by Alexander from Cinemaniac Reviews. Sadly, I believe that website is now defunct. However, that doesn’t in anyway invalidate the questionnaire itself which has some very good questions about your relationship with cinema. Some of my answers to the questions posed are about films that I enjoy, as opposed to those that are considered cinematic classics. However, I have answered some questions more seriously than others, especially the one about undeserving recipients of the Best Film Oscar. I struggled with a couple of questions because I no longer go the cinema as frequently as I did 10 years ago. This is mainly due to the fact that a lot of the films I find interesting end up going straight to streaming after very brief theatrical releases. Some do not even get shown in cinemas. Hence I view far more at home. But I digress. On with the questions and answers. Feel free to comment below and share your views.
Exit 8 is a sophisticated and claustrophobic psychological thriller directed by Genki Kawamura, which skilfully transforms a minimalist indie walking-simulator game into a cinematic existential enigma. This overtly metaphorical film renders the repetitive nature and drudgery of modern working life into a physical environment in which the lead character is trapped and must find a way out. A random, brutal maze filled with an atmosphere of indifference to the lab rats that find themselves trapped within. Or is it their personal guilt that has put them there? Genki Kawamura’s psychological mystery draws inspiration from the Japanese video game of the same name, as well as from the cyclical nature of Groundhog Day and endless corridors of the Overlook Hotel in Kubrick’s The Shining. Although there are jump scares and some ghoulish imagery, this is not a horror vehicle. Instead this is a disquieting psychological drama with a strong sense of morality.
I wrote a post 18 month’s ago regarding whether a directors cut of a film is superior by default to the version originally shown in cinemas. Obviously the answer was no and I then went on to give three examples of films where I think the theatrical release is better to lengthier or substantially altered director’s cut that was subsequently made available at a later date. This time round in this post, I would like to do the complete opposite. I shall provide some examples of films that I think are significantly improved by a longer cut or a substantially, restructured edit. Note some of these examples are technically not a “director’s cuts” but a restoration or reconstruction of the director’s original vision. I shall endeavour to highlight what specific material or broader changes make each respective film “better”. As ever, all of these examples are a matter of subjective opinion and my views are presented as such, not “fact”.
In 1968 the dilapidated freighter Corita hastily leaves Freetown to avoid a customs inspection. Captain Lansen (Eric Porter) has a cargo of dangerous explosives which he is smuggling so he can finally retire. His ship’s passengers also have reasons for leaving in a hurry. Dr. Webster (Nigel Stock), together with his daughter Unity (Suzanna leigh), is relocating due to his indiscretions with patients and illegal operations. Alcoholic pianist Harry Tyler (Tony Beckley) is aimlessly drifting from port to port. Eva Peters (Hildegard Knef) is fleeing from her husband with stolen bearer bonds which she intend to use to buy back her son from his evil clutches Caracas. Ricaldi (Ben Carruthers), a questionable lawyer, is pursuing Eva to retrieve the stolen bonds. First officer Hemmings (Neil McCallum) suggests that the ship should return to Freetown after an imminent Hurricane warning. The Captain asks the passengers and they are unanimous that they do not wish to return. However a mutinous crew, the bad weather and the instability of the explosives force everyone to abandon ship. The survivors find themselves adrift in a lifeboat surrounded by a strange carnivorous seaweed.
Jason Statham is an exemplar of the US mantra of “staying in your lane”. He makes action movies and occasionally strays into action comedies. His formula broadly works and is sufficiently lucrative to keep Mr. Statham employed. Therefore, if you watch a film in which he stars, you have a fairly good idea of what you’ll be getting. Of late, the criteria for his action vehicles have become more succinct. Jason Statham will play an innocuous character, such as a construction foreman or a bee keeper. Something terrible will subsequently befall another character who Mr. Statham has an emotional connection with in some capacity. He will subsequently hunt down those responsible and meet out death and violence. At some point the villain of the story will enquire as to how this innocuous person is so lethal. Research will then show that our Jason is in fact an ex-police officer/special forces operative/international assassin. There’s then a showdown and the villain dies. Job done.
The Light at the Edge of the World presented itself as an action movie upon its release in 1971. Based upon a story by Jules Verne, the Spanish American co-production was driven by its star Kirk Douglas, who curiously hired British director Kevin Billington to helm the project. This tale of a lighthouse keeper fighting a war of attrition against a group of pirates that have captured his island, was market as an adventure film ostensibly in the idiom of the authors previous works and as a pirate movie. MGM bought the rights to distribute the film in the UK on the misunderstanding that it was a family friendly production. It was not and remains so. They subsequently had to cut 15 minutes of violence and torture as well as an undercurrent of sexual assault to secure a suitable rating. Conversely, the US distributors received an arbitrary PG rating, despite the fact this is one of a handful of films that honestly depicts pirates as murderers, rapists and worse.
It’s an established action film trope. The fire team comprised of ex-military personnel, move in on their target. Only to have the tables turned by someone they don’t deem a threat. What makes it different in The Last Stand of Ellen Cole is a throwaway line of dialogue. The bested operative lies bleeding on the floor and the protagonists stands over them ready to finish them off. “Don’t, I have a cat” they feebly plead. For me that was the icing on the cake. The movie had already established it was taking the “same old, same old” and doing something different. Something fun, if taken in the right spirit. This scene tipped the balance and I embraced this film because it was being honest about what it is. This is a modern B movie that decides to give a very specific sub-genre a makeover. Furthermore, its clearly done with an affectionate wink, which is very different to sly wink. This isn’t deliberate self-knowing irony. Its just a film doing something different and possibly silly but it genuinely wants to have fun with it.
David Koepp is no stranger to genre cinema, having written the screenplay for such films as Jurassic Park, Spider-man and War of the Worlds. Where these titles are big budget, major studio productions, Cold Storage is a far more modest production with a smaller scope. Adapted from his own novel, the screenplay is by David Koepp and the film is directed by British film-maker Jonny Campbell. At first glance, Cold Storage seems a somewhat derivative science fiction horror film with a relatively modest budget, financed through a convoluted US and French co-production. Lurid green and red colours feature heavily in the marketing artwork and it is easy, after a cursory look, to write the film off as cheap, generic, direct-to-streaming filler. However, Cold Storage is prime example of why you should not judge a book by it’s cover, or in this case, a film by its posters and online advertising. It is in fact an amusing and fun endeavour that can fill an evening.
Despite being considered by many as an original story, The Abominable Snowman (1957) is in fact a remake of a made for television play, The Creature, that was originally broadcast in the UK in 1955. Hammer Films would often purchase the rights of popular TV programs and subsequently re-work them for mainstream, international cinema. Larger production budgets and fewer censorship restrictions allowed them to make their cinematic interpretations more lurid, thus commercially viable. Hence The Quatermass Xperiment, Quatermass II and Quatermass and the Pit were all given a big screen makeover and were commercially successful. The Abominable Snowman was written by acclaimed writer Nigel Kneale, who also wrote the original television drama and the aforementioned Quatermass trilogy. Although ostensibly marketed as a horror film this production is actually an interesting blend of psychological thriller and science fiction.
There are certain subjects that are notoriously uncinematic. These tend to be things that exist or are undertaken mainly in the mind, rather than expressed in an overtly physical way. Computing, science and mathematics are good examples. Writing code or working out complex equations does not immediately lend themselves to a visual medium such as cinema. Therefore, any film dealing with the world of corporate finance has its work cut out. Hence writer-director J C Chandor immediately deserves praise for making Margin Call, a film about the financial crash of 2008, as gripping and compelling as any political thriller. He does this by keeping the financial elements of the story to a minimum, choosing instead to focus upon those who have become aware of the imminent crisis and their reaction to it. However, the film remains a tough watch with regard to the some of the characters and their respective personal morality or lack there of.
The 1937 Hindenburg disaster has remained an enduring mystery over the years. The physical mechanics of how this airship filled with 7,000,000 cubic feet of hydrogen gas caught fire has been fully explored over the decades and there are now several extremely plausible theories as to how it may have happened. However, there remains the possibility of sabotage. As such an idea has more dramatic potential than mechanical failure, it was used as the central theme of the 1975 disaster movie The Hindenburg. Directed by Robert Wise, the screenplay by Nelson Gidding explores a German resistance against the Nazi regime. The airship is targeted as it is a powerful propaganda symbol for Hitler’s Germany. Sadly despite some interesting ideas, a strong cast and solid, old school optical effects, The Hindenburg is a slow and somewhat ponderous production. Although the final 20 minutes of the film recreate the infamous explosion meticulously, it doesn’t quite compensate for the uneventful, dialogue driven investigation of the previous 100 minutes.
On the Eastern Front in 1943, a German Tiger tank crew led by Lieutenant Philip Gerkens (David Schütter) is sent on a mission to rescue the missing officer Paul von Hardenburg (Tilman Strauss) from a top-secret bunker that is at risk of falling into enemy hands. As they make their way through an eerie no-man’s land, they have to avoid Russian armoured vehicles that seem to be aware of their mission. They also encounter a German unit taking punitive action against a peasant village, in reprisal for partisan activity in the area. The youngest crew member, Michel (Yoran Leicher), talks of the land being home to ghosts and spirits. As the tank penetrates further into contested territory the crew become increasingly disturbed by the uncanny nature of their mission and begin to fall prey to their own inner fears.
Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic novel has been adapted for cinema and television numerous times. Perhaps the most well known is the 1950 Disney version, starring Robert Newton as Long John Silver. His eye rolling performance and exaggerated West Country accent is credited with popularising the stereotypical form of “pirate speech" that has become the pop culture default. Although an enjoyable film, it does gloss over the more sinister aspects of both the source text and history, perpetuating the myth that pirates are just loveable scoundrels. Many subsequent adaptations have fallen into the same trap to a greater or lesser degree. However, that is not the case with the 1990 version of Treasure island, which was made for the TNT cable network and released theatrically outside of the US. This darker and notably more violent adaptation closely follows the source text and is widely considered the most faithful to the book.
The Planet of the Apes movie franchise took a radical change of course with its third entry in the series. The first two films were set in the future and benefited from high production values to help realise a post apocalyptic earth. However, due to a substantial reduction of budget, Escape from the Planet of the Apes uses a time travel plot device to bring the ape protagonists to present day Los Angeles (1971 in this case). The result is a film with a much smaller narrative scope. However, although it lacks the science fiction spectacle of its predecessors, it features an interesting satirical exploration of celebrity culture and ponders what it is like to be deemed an enemy of the state. As ever, Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter provide exceptional lead performances as the Chimpanzees Cornelius and Zira. Escape from the Planet of the Apes also captures the pop culture vibe of seventies America.
It is not unusual for Disney to change film titles when marketing them outside of the US. In 2016 they renamed the animated feature film Zootopia to Zootropolis in the UK and Europe to avoid trademark conflicts with other existing businesses. For example there is a Danish zoo which already holds the “Zootopia” name. Similarly, in Germany there is a children’s book which caused copyright conflict, which led to the film being released under the title Zoomania. Such changes, although practical for legal reasons, can sometimes cause a degree of confusion. Especially as there are numerous, low budget productions companies that go out of their way to produce similarly titled “mockbusters” whenever there are big, tentpole, releases. So for clarity, Zootopia 2 has been released in the UK as Zootropolis 2.
Stephen King’s dystopian story, The Running Man, was previously adapted very loosely in 1987, as a vehicle for Arnold Schwarzenegger. That version focused mainly on the “Battle Royale” element of the story and leaned heavily into Arnie’s personality, rather than the politics of the book. It also wasn’t well received by the author. Edgar Wright’s remake follows the source text a lot more closely and is far more interested in its political themes and wider social commentary. Furthermore, this version re-establishes the everyman quality of the hero of Ben Richards, rather than him being the muscle bound, ex-military hero as per Mr. Schwarzenegger’s prior interpretation. This time round, The Running Man uses a lot of the visual and narrative tropes of contemporary reality TV, making this forty three year old story very relevant to today’s viewers and couching the film in a style that is recognisable and accessible.
The Haunted Dolls House is a short film based on a story by M.R. James about a unique antique that is subject to supernatural phenomenon. Adapted by Stephen Gray and David Lilley, this is the third of three short films based upon James’ work that the pair have made. It stars Steven Dolton as Mr. Dillet, a collector of antique dolls houses, who acquires a bargain only to discover that it harbours a ghostly secret. Made on an extremely modest budget over the course of 2012 this clever, innovative and rather sinister adaptation is a fine example of short film creativity. It manages to offer a unique visual depiction of M.R. James’ classic story whilst capturing the unsettling quality of the author’s work. Like so many independently made short films it is clearly a labour of love, made with modest resources. It succinctly captures the spirit of the author’s work and is both innovative and rewarding.
A lot of people may know Luke Evans from the live action version of Beauty and the Beast or Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit trilogy. With his matinee idol good looks, charming Welsh demeanour and his “smoky” tenor singing voice, he projects a sense of old school stardom. Which brings us to No One Lives; a film which is a radical departure from his previous work. His performance is disconcerting to say the least and the film is somewhat unhinged. Directed by Ryuhei Kitamura, who made an interesting adaptation of Clive Barker’s The Midnight Meat Train, this cinematic outing is similarly replete with robust shocks and gore. There are some interesting ideas about the nature of violence, Stockholm Syndrome and whether one should deny or embrace one’s nature. However, these are ultimately minor asides. Philosophical musings in between bouts of surprisingly striking unpleasantness.
In the near future, Kepler 822, a research and drilling facility located at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, suffers a sudden and catastrophic structural failure. There are only six survivors. Mechanical engineer Norah Price (Kristen Stewart), Captain Lucien (Vincent Cassel), biologist Emily Haversham (Jessica Henwick), engineer Liam Smith (John Gallagher Jr.) and crew members Rodrigo (Mamoudou Athie) and Paul (T.J. Miller). As all the functional escape pods have been used and they are unable to contact the surface, the Captain suggests using pressurized suits to walk one mile across the ocean floor to the Roebuck 641 drill installation. There they will find more escape pods. However, it soon becomes apparent that the disaster was not caused by an undersea earthquake and that they are not alone as they make their journey.
One of the most common objections raised regarding the Jurassic Park/Jurassic World franchise is that the films are specifically made to obtain a PG-13 rating from the Motion Picture Association, for purely commercial reasons. Hence, in all films, there is little on screen violence and the dinosaurs are mainly portrayed as a threat and a means of providing jump scares. When a character is killed by a dinosaur it usually happens off screen, is obscured by something else in frame, or is shown in long shot with very little detail. The realities of being eaten alive by a predator are conspicuously absent. Hence, audiences looking for films featuring more graphic dinosaur attacks, have not been well catered for apart from some minor direct-to-video titles. Primitive War finally fills this gap in the market with a frenetic genre mashup that strives to punch above is budgetary weight.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
The Objective (2008)
Daniel Myrick has experience when it comes to low-budget productions, having co-written The Blair Witch Project. The Objective offers a promising science fiction story set in contemporary Afghanistan, hinting at both supernatural and extraterrestrial plot themes. The spartan, low budget production along with minimal use of special effects allows the story to be the focus of the movie. As with Pontypool, many questions are raised throughout the course of the plot and the attentive viewer is required to listen and consider what is presented, rather than just blindly accept everything on face value.
Daniel Myrick has experience when it comes to low-budget productions, having co-written The Blair Witch Project. The Objective offers a promising science fiction story set in contemporary Afghanistan, hinting at both supernatural and extraterrestrial plot themes. The spartan, low budget production along with minimal use of special effects allows the story to be the focus of the movie. As with Pontypool, many questions are raised throughout the course of the plot and the attentive viewer is required to listen and consider what is presented, rather than just blindly accept everything on face value.
It is the ambiguity of the story (which mixes Djinn mythology, British colonial history with elements of Erich von Däniken) and the way the protagonists struggle to come to grips with the ongoing events that proves so intriguing. A re-occurring theme throughout The Objective is how one’s personal frame of reference can sometimes limit how you interpret and quantify any new experience. Director Daniel Myrick utilises a classic plot device, in which the establishment tries to suppress events, fearing they will cause social unrest, if made known to the general public.
Although far from perfect, with average performances, clunky dialogue and a rather artificial narration, The Objective still manages to absorb and entertain. The low budget works to the films advantage, with action scenes feeling more like news footage. Instead of shocks there is an increasing atmosphere of disquiet which builds well over the ninety-minute running time. The mixture of genres works rather well and the films conclusion is suitably open ended and will definitely provoke debate. Overall, it’s best to file The Objective under “interesting curiosity”.
Mainstream films are easy to recommend to people. They’re usually formulaic, work within clear parameters and they’re not controversial. Most people, when viewing such film on someone else’s suggestion, are left with a fairly simply choice. Did they like it or not? Whatever the outcome, no feathers are ruffled. No one looks at you askance afterwards and says “why the hell did you think I’d like that piece of shit”? If something like this happens, then you have clearly not recommended a mainstream film. Perhaps you’ve suggested something that’s a little more of an acquired taste. Something niche, from a very specific sub-genre. Which brings me neatly to Blazing Magnum AKA Strange Shadows in an Empty Room (1976). The US title gives the impression that this film is a hard boiled cop thriller, like so many others that followed in the wake of Dirty Harry. But there’s a clue in the European title. Yes, this movie has more than just a whiff of a giallo about it.
In the year 1860, Baron Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) faces execution by guillotine for the murders perpetrated by the creature he created. With the assistance of a hunchback named Karl (Oscar Quitak) he avoids death by beheading the priest who came to give him the last rites. The priest’s body is then mistakenly buried by the authorities. Three years later, Victor, now using the name Doctor Stein, has established himself as a prosperous physician in Karlsbrück, serving both affluent patients and the poor at a paupers’ hospital. Hans Kleve (Francis Matthews), a junior member of the medical council, recognises Victor and being an admirer, seeks to become his apprentice. Victor and Hans then undertake an experiment to transplant Karl’s living brain into a new, more refined body, rather than a grotesque monstrosity the Baron has previously made. Karl is eager to have a new healthy body, especially after encountering Margaret Conrad (Eunice Gayson), the charming new assistant at the hospital.
This movie questionnaire was originally created by Alexander from Cinemaniac Reviews. Sadly, I believe that website is now defunct. However, that doesn’t in anyway invalidate the questionnaire itself which has some very good questions about your relationship with cinema. Some of my answers to the questions posed are about films that I enjoy, as opposed to those that are considered cinematic classics. However, I have answered some questions more seriously than others, especially the one about undeserving recipients of the Best Film Oscar. I struggled with a couple of questions because I no longer go the cinema as frequently as I did 10 years ago. This is mainly due to the fact that a lot of the films I find interesting end up going straight to streaming after very brief theatrical releases. Some do not even get shown in cinemas. Hence I view far more at home. But I digress. On with the questions and answers. Feel free to comment below and share your views.
Exit 8 is a sophisticated and claustrophobic psychological thriller directed by Genki Kawamura, which skilfully transforms a minimalist indie walking-simulator game into a cinematic existential enigma. This overtly metaphorical film renders the repetitive nature and drudgery of modern working life into a physical environment in which the lead character is trapped and must find a way out. A random, brutal maze filled with an atmosphere of indifference to the lab rats that find themselves trapped within. Or is it their personal guilt that has put them there? Genki Kawamura’s psychological mystery draws inspiration from the Japanese video game of the same name, as well as from the cyclical nature of Groundhog Day and endless corridors of the Overlook Hotel in Kubrick’s The Shining. Although there are jump scares and some ghoulish imagery, this is not a horror vehicle. Instead this is a disquieting psychological drama with a strong sense of morality.
I wrote a post 18 month’s ago regarding whether a directors cut of a film is superior by default to the version originally shown in cinemas. Obviously the answer was no and I then went on to give three examples of films where I think the theatrical release is better to lengthier or substantially altered director’s cut that was subsequently made available at a later date. This time round in this post, I would like to do the complete opposite. I shall provide some examples of films that I think are significantly improved by a longer cut or a substantially, restructured edit. Note some of these examples are technically not a “director’s cuts” but a restoration or reconstruction of the director’s original vision. I shall endeavour to highlight what specific material or broader changes make each respective film “better”. As ever, all of these examples are a matter of subjective opinion and my views are presented as such, not “fact”.
In 1968 the dilapidated freighter Corita hastily leaves Freetown to avoid a customs inspection. Captain Lansen (Eric Porter) has a cargo of dangerous explosives which he is smuggling so he can finally retire. His ship’s passengers also have reasons for leaving in a hurry. Dr. Webster (Nigel Stock), together with his daughter Unity (Suzanna leigh), is relocating due to his indiscretions with patients and illegal operations. Alcoholic pianist Harry Tyler (Tony Beckley) is aimlessly drifting from port to port. Eva Peters (Hildegard Knef) is fleeing from her husband with stolen bearer bonds which she intend to use to buy back her son from his evil clutches Caracas. Ricaldi (Ben Carruthers), a questionable lawyer, is pursuing Eva to retrieve the stolen bonds. First officer Hemmings (Neil McCallum) suggests that the ship should return to Freetown after an imminent Hurricane warning. The Captain asks the passengers and they are unanimous that they do not wish to return. However a mutinous crew, the bad weather and the instability of the explosives force everyone to abandon ship. The survivors find themselves adrift in a lifeboat surrounded by a strange carnivorous seaweed.
Jason Statham is an exemplar of the US mantra of “staying in your lane”. He makes action movies and occasionally strays into action comedies. His formula broadly works and is sufficiently lucrative to keep Mr. Statham employed. Therefore, if you watch a film in which he stars, you have a fairly good idea of what you’ll be getting. Of late, the criteria for his action vehicles have become more succinct. Jason Statham will play an innocuous character, such as a construction foreman or a bee keeper. Something terrible will subsequently befall another character who Mr. Statham has an emotional connection with in some capacity. He will subsequently hunt down those responsible and meet out death and violence. At some point the villain of the story will enquire as to how this innocuous person is so lethal. Research will then show that our Jason is in fact an ex-police officer/special forces operative/international assassin. There’s then a showdown and the villain dies. Job done.
The Light at the Edge of the World presented itself as an action movie upon its release in 1971. Based upon a story by Jules Verne, the Spanish American co-production was driven by its star Kirk Douglas, who curiously hired British director Kevin Billington to helm the project. This tale of a lighthouse keeper fighting a war of attrition against a group of pirates that have captured his island, was market as an adventure film ostensibly in the idiom of the authors previous works and as a pirate movie. MGM bought the rights to distribute the film in the UK on the misunderstanding that it was a family friendly production. It was not and remains so. They subsequently had to cut 15 minutes of violence and torture as well as an undercurrent of sexual assault to secure a suitable rating. Conversely, the US distributors received an arbitrary PG rating, despite the fact this is one of a handful of films that honestly depicts pirates as murderers, rapists and worse.
It’s an established action film trope. The fire team comprised of ex-military personnel, move in on their target. Only to have the tables turned by someone they don’t deem a threat. What makes it different in The Last Stand of Ellen Cole is a throwaway line of dialogue. The bested operative lies bleeding on the floor and the protagonists stands over them ready to finish them off. “Don’t, I have a cat” they feebly plead. For me that was the icing on the cake. The movie had already established it was taking the “same old, same old” and doing something different. Something fun, if taken in the right spirit. This scene tipped the balance and I embraced this film because it was being honest about what it is. This is a modern B movie that decides to give a very specific sub-genre a makeover. Furthermore, its clearly done with an affectionate wink, which is very different to sly wink. This isn’t deliberate self-knowing irony. Its just a film doing something different and possibly silly but it genuinely wants to have fun with it.
David Koepp is no stranger to genre cinema, having written the screenplay for such films as Jurassic Park, Spider-man and War of the Worlds. Where these titles are big budget, major studio productions, Cold Storage is a far more modest production with a smaller scope. Adapted from his own novel, the screenplay is by David Koepp and the film is directed by British film-maker Jonny Campbell. At first glance, Cold Storage seems a somewhat derivative science fiction horror film with a relatively modest budget, financed through a convoluted US and French co-production. Lurid green and red colours feature heavily in the marketing artwork and it is easy, after a cursory look, to write the film off as cheap, generic, direct-to-streaming filler. However, Cold Storage is prime example of why you should not judge a book by it’s cover, or in this case, a film by its posters and online advertising. It is in fact an amusing and fun endeavour that can fill an evening.
Despite being considered by many as an original story, The Abominable Snowman (1957) is in fact a remake of a made for television play, The Creature, that was originally broadcast in the UK in 1955. Hammer Films would often purchase the rights of popular TV programs and subsequently re-work them for mainstream, international cinema. Larger production budgets and fewer censorship restrictions allowed them to make their cinematic interpretations more lurid, thus commercially viable. Hence The Quatermass Xperiment, Quatermass II and Quatermass and the Pit were all given a big screen makeover and were commercially successful. The Abominable Snowman was written by acclaimed writer Nigel Kneale, who also wrote the original television drama and the aforementioned Quatermass trilogy. Although ostensibly marketed as a horror film this production is actually an interesting blend of psychological thriller and science fiction.
There are certain subjects that are notoriously uncinematic. These tend to be things that exist or are undertaken mainly in the mind, rather than expressed in an overtly physical way. Computing, science and mathematics are good examples. Writing code or working out complex equations does not immediately lend themselves to a visual medium such as cinema. Therefore, any film dealing with the world of corporate finance has its work cut out. Hence writer-director J C Chandor immediately deserves praise for making Margin Call, a film about the financial crash of 2008, as gripping and compelling as any political thriller. He does this by keeping the financial elements of the story to a minimum, choosing instead to focus upon those who have become aware of the imminent crisis and their reaction to it. However, the film remains a tough watch with regard to the some of the characters and their respective personal morality or lack there of.
The 1937 Hindenburg disaster has remained an enduring mystery over the years. The physical mechanics of how this airship filled with 7,000,000 cubic feet of hydrogen gas caught fire has been fully explored over the decades and there are now several extremely plausible theories as to how it may have happened. However, there remains the possibility of sabotage. As such an idea has more dramatic potential than mechanical failure, it was used as the central theme of the 1975 disaster movie The Hindenburg. Directed by Robert Wise, the screenplay by Nelson Gidding explores a German resistance against the Nazi regime. The airship is targeted as it is a powerful propaganda symbol for Hitler’s Germany. Sadly despite some interesting ideas, a strong cast and solid, old school optical effects, The Hindenburg is a slow and somewhat ponderous production. Although the final 20 minutes of the film recreate the infamous explosion meticulously, it doesn’t quite compensate for the uneventful, dialogue driven investigation of the previous 100 minutes.
On the Eastern Front in 1943, a German Tiger tank crew led by Lieutenant Philip Gerkens (David Schütter) is sent on a mission to rescue the missing officer Paul von Hardenburg (Tilman Strauss) from a top-secret bunker that is at risk of falling into enemy hands. As they make their way through an eerie no-man’s land, they have to avoid Russian armoured vehicles that seem to be aware of their mission. They also encounter a German unit taking punitive action against a peasant village, in reprisal for partisan activity in the area. The youngest crew member, Michel (Yoran Leicher), talks of the land being home to ghosts and spirits. As the tank penetrates further into contested territory the crew become increasingly disturbed by the uncanny nature of their mission and begin to fall prey to their own inner fears.
Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic novel has been adapted for cinema and television numerous times. Perhaps the most well known is the 1950 Disney version, starring Robert Newton as Long John Silver. His eye rolling performance and exaggerated West Country accent is credited with popularising the stereotypical form of “pirate speech" that has become the pop culture default. Although an enjoyable film, it does gloss over the more sinister aspects of both the source text and history, perpetuating the myth that pirates are just loveable scoundrels. Many subsequent adaptations have fallen into the same trap to a greater or lesser degree. However, that is not the case with the 1990 version of Treasure island, which was made for the TNT cable network and released theatrically outside of the US. This darker and notably more violent adaptation closely follows the source text and is widely considered the most faithful to the book.
The Planet of the Apes movie franchise took a radical change of course with its third entry in the series. The first two films were set in the future and benefited from high production values to help realise a post apocalyptic earth. However, due to a substantial reduction of budget, Escape from the Planet of the Apes uses a time travel plot device to bring the ape protagonists to present day Los Angeles (1971 in this case). The result is a film with a much smaller narrative scope. However, although it lacks the science fiction spectacle of its predecessors, it features an interesting satirical exploration of celebrity culture and ponders what it is like to be deemed an enemy of the state. As ever, Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter provide exceptional lead performances as the Chimpanzees Cornelius and Zira. Escape from the Planet of the Apes also captures the pop culture vibe of seventies America.
It is not unusual for Disney to change film titles when marketing them outside of the US. In 2016 they renamed the animated feature film Zootopia to Zootropolis in the UK and Europe to avoid trademark conflicts with other existing businesses. For example there is a Danish zoo which already holds the “Zootopia” name. Similarly, in Germany there is a children’s book which caused copyright conflict, which led to the film being released under the title Zoomania. Such changes, although practical for legal reasons, can sometimes cause a degree of confusion. Especially as there are numerous, low budget productions companies that go out of their way to produce similarly titled “mockbusters” whenever there are big, tentpole, releases. So for clarity, Zootopia 2 has been released in the UK as Zootropolis 2.
Stephen King’s dystopian story, The Running Man, was previously adapted very loosely in 1987, as a vehicle for Arnold Schwarzenegger. That version focused mainly on the “Battle Royale” element of the story and leaned heavily into Arnie’s personality, rather than the politics of the book. It also wasn’t well received by the author. Edgar Wright’s remake follows the source text a lot more closely and is far more interested in its political themes and wider social commentary. Furthermore, this version re-establishes the everyman quality of the hero of Ben Richards, rather than him being the muscle bound, ex-military hero as per Mr. Schwarzenegger’s prior interpretation. This time round, The Running Man uses a lot of the visual and narrative tropes of contemporary reality TV, making this forty three year old story very relevant to today’s viewers and couching the film in a style that is recognisable and accessible.
The Haunted Dolls House is a short film based on a story by M.R. James about a unique antique that is subject to supernatural phenomenon. Adapted by Stephen Gray and David Lilley, this is the third of three short films based upon James’ work that the pair have made. It stars Steven Dolton as Mr. Dillet, a collector of antique dolls houses, who acquires a bargain only to discover that it harbours a ghostly secret. Made on an extremely modest budget over the course of 2012 this clever, innovative and rather sinister adaptation is a fine example of short film creativity. It manages to offer a unique visual depiction of M.R. James’ classic story whilst capturing the unsettling quality of the author’s work. Like so many independently made short films it is clearly a labour of love, made with modest resources. It succinctly captures the spirit of the author’s work and is both innovative and rewarding.
A lot of people may know Luke Evans from the live action version of Beauty and the Beast or Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit trilogy. With his matinee idol good looks, charming Welsh demeanour and his “smoky” tenor singing voice, he projects a sense of old school stardom. Which brings us to No One Lives; a film which is a radical departure from his previous work. His performance is disconcerting to say the least and the film is somewhat unhinged. Directed by Ryuhei Kitamura, who made an interesting adaptation of Clive Barker’s The Midnight Meat Train, this cinematic outing is similarly replete with robust shocks and gore. There are some interesting ideas about the nature of violence, Stockholm Syndrome and whether one should deny or embrace one’s nature. However, these are ultimately minor asides. Philosophical musings in between bouts of surprisingly striking unpleasantness.
In the near future, Kepler 822, a research and drilling facility located at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, suffers a sudden and catastrophic structural failure. There are only six survivors. Mechanical engineer Norah Price (Kristen Stewart), Captain Lucien (Vincent Cassel), biologist Emily Haversham (Jessica Henwick), engineer Liam Smith (John Gallagher Jr.) and crew members Rodrigo (Mamoudou Athie) and Paul (T.J. Miller). As all the functional escape pods have been used and they are unable to contact the surface, the Captain suggests using pressurized suits to walk one mile across the ocean floor to the Roebuck 641 drill installation. There they will find more escape pods. However, it soon becomes apparent that the disaster was not caused by an undersea earthquake and that they are not alone as they make their journey.
One of the most common objections raised regarding the Jurassic Park/Jurassic World franchise is that the films are specifically made to obtain a PG-13 rating from the Motion Picture Association, for purely commercial reasons. Hence, in all films, there is little on screen violence and the dinosaurs are mainly portrayed as a threat and a means of providing jump scares. When a character is killed by a dinosaur it usually happens off screen, is obscured by something else in frame, or is shown in long shot with very little detail. The realities of being eaten alive by a predator are conspicuously absent. Hence, audiences looking for films featuring more graphic dinosaur attacks, have not been well catered for apart from some minor direct-to-video titles. Primitive War finally fills this gap in the market with a frenetic genre mashup that strives to punch above is budgetary weight.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Wilderness (2006)
Independent British Horror films often showcase some of the best up and coming talent about. Neil Marshall was a prime example of this back in 2002 with his debut film Dog Soldiers. He has subsequently produced an interesting body of work in both cinema and television. Independent horror films offer a great deal of flexibility to writes and directors, affording them an opportunity to explore themes that larger studios simply will not touch. Happy endings, moral subtexts, glamorous leads are not de rigueur. In fact, they are potentially a hindrance. The genre is a platform for gritty and often unpleasant tales that explore the darker side of human nature. Michael J. Bassett's Wilderness falls squarely into this category, offering a grim but gripping story.
Independent British Horror films often showcase some of the best up and coming talent about. Neil Marshall was a prime example of this back in 2002 with his debut film Dog Soldiers. He has subsequently produced an interesting body of work in both cinema and television. Independent horror films offer a great deal of flexibility to writes and directors, affording them an opportunity to explore themes that larger studios simply will not touch. Happy endings, moral subtexts, glamorous leads are not de rigueur. In fact, they are potentially a hindrance. The genre is a platform for gritty and often unpleasant tales that explore the darker side of human nature. Michael J. Bassett's Wilderness falls squarely into this category, offering a grim but gripping story.
The somewhat lurid UK DVD packaging calls this film “Predator, meets Scum, meets Lord of the Flies” which rather succinctly breakdowns the story. There is also a major spoiler photo on the back sleeve which ruins the plot. However, considering the film features Sean Pertwee, an actor who always seems to meet a painful and unpleasant end in whatever he appears, may be this is not such a giveaway after all. The story follows a group of young offenders, with a list of unpleasant criminal traits, as they travel to a remote island for an outward-bound course and “team building” exercise. One by one they fall victim to a hidden homicidal manic. Is this merely a cruel chance of fate, or is there a more sinister motive behind these events.
On first look, Wilderness is hardly brimming with original ideas and director Michael J. Bassett treats us to numerous homages to famous genre films. However, what viewers do get as a bonus are some well-defined characters that you can actually identify with. So often these days we have to endure films exclusively populated by people we could not careless about. Not so here. The sociopath and the sex offender are particularly interesting roles with a surprising amount of depth. Performances are good all round and it’s that inherent British quality I mentioned earlier that gives this film a little more credibility and vitality. This is not a slick glossy production. Being so would be counterproductive. The stark quality to the production design means we focus on the narrative.
Be warned, this film has a “15” rating in the UK and it's a particularly strong one at that. The killer uses a crossbow, knife and hunting dogs to kill his prey. There is one death scene that stands out and may well make the casual viewer flinch. There is also some staged animal violence which may not be well received by dog lovers. The dialogue includes liberal doses of British colloquialism throughout the film but this is not out of step with the story or the characters. Wilderness is also well paced, balancing both plot exposition and shocks. Overall the one hundred minutes plus running time is used very well. It would also be remiss of me if I didn’t mention the excellent use of location photography in Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland.
At a time when the US market seems incapable of making anything other than substandard remakes of classic films, foreign movies or just uninspired jump scare horror films; it is refreshing to find a British production that shows some creativity and difference. Yes, Wilderness is derivative in its basic premise but the formula provides an opportunity to present some valid characters and credible dialogue. It chooses to avoid arbitrary distinctions between good and bad, instead offering more nuanced ideas as to why people do terrible things. There is also a sincere approach to the entire film, showing the love of a genuine genre fan and not the cynical, contrived workmanship of a studio hack. Therefore, I would recommended Wilderness to anyone who enjoyed Dog Soldiers.
Mainstream films are easy to recommend to people. They’re usually formulaic, work within clear parameters and they’re not controversial. Most people, when viewing such film on someone else’s suggestion, are left with a fairly simply choice. Did they like it or not? Whatever the outcome, no feathers are ruffled. No one looks at you askance afterwards and says “why the hell did you think I’d like that piece of shit”? If something like this happens, then you have clearly not recommended a mainstream film. Perhaps you’ve suggested something that’s a little more of an acquired taste. Something niche, from a very specific sub-genre. Which brings me neatly to Blazing Magnum AKA Strange Shadows in an Empty Room (1976). The US title gives the impression that this film is a hard boiled cop thriller, like so many others that followed in the wake of Dirty Harry. But there’s a clue in the European title. Yes, this movie has more than just a whiff of a giallo about it.
In the year 1860, Baron Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) faces execution by guillotine for the murders perpetrated by the creature he created. With the assistance of a hunchback named Karl (Oscar Quitak) he avoids death by beheading the priest who came to give him the last rites. The priest’s body is then mistakenly buried by the authorities. Three years later, Victor, now using the name Doctor Stein, has established himself as a prosperous physician in Karlsbrück, serving both affluent patients and the poor at a paupers’ hospital. Hans Kleve (Francis Matthews), a junior member of the medical council, recognises Victor and being an admirer, seeks to become his apprentice. Victor and Hans then undertake an experiment to transplant Karl’s living brain into a new, more refined body, rather than a grotesque monstrosity the Baron has previously made. Karl is eager to have a new healthy body, especially after encountering Margaret Conrad (Eunice Gayson), the charming new assistant at the hospital.
This movie questionnaire was originally created by Alexander from Cinemaniac Reviews. Sadly, I believe that website is now defunct. However, that doesn’t in anyway invalidate the questionnaire itself which has some very good questions about your relationship with cinema. Some of my answers to the questions posed are about films that I enjoy, as opposed to those that are considered cinematic classics. However, I have answered some questions more seriously than others, especially the one about undeserving recipients of the Best Film Oscar. I struggled with a couple of questions because I no longer go the cinema as frequently as I did 10 years ago. This is mainly due to the fact that a lot of the films I find interesting end up going straight to streaming after very brief theatrical releases. Some do not even get shown in cinemas. Hence I view far more at home. But I digress. On with the questions and answers. Feel free to comment below and share your views.
Exit 8 is a sophisticated and claustrophobic psychological thriller directed by Genki Kawamura, which skilfully transforms a minimalist indie walking-simulator game into a cinematic existential enigma. This overtly metaphorical film renders the repetitive nature and drudgery of modern working life into a physical environment in which the lead character is trapped and must find a way out. A random, brutal maze filled with an atmosphere of indifference to the lab rats that find themselves trapped within. Or is it their personal guilt that has put them there? Genki Kawamura’s psychological mystery draws inspiration from the Japanese video game of the same name, as well as from the cyclical nature of Groundhog Day and endless corridors of the Overlook Hotel in Kubrick’s The Shining. Although there are jump scares and some ghoulish imagery, this is not a horror vehicle. Instead this is a disquieting psychological drama with a strong sense of morality.
I wrote a post 18 month’s ago regarding whether a directors cut of a film is superior by default to the version originally shown in cinemas. Obviously the answer was no and I then went on to give three examples of films where I think the theatrical release is better to lengthier or substantially altered director’s cut that was subsequently made available at a later date. This time round in this post, I would like to do the complete opposite. I shall provide some examples of films that I think are significantly improved by a longer cut or a substantially, restructured edit. Note some of these examples are technically not a “director’s cuts” but a restoration or reconstruction of the director’s original vision. I shall endeavour to highlight what specific material or broader changes make each respective film “better”. As ever, all of these examples are a matter of subjective opinion and my views are presented as such, not “fact”.
In 1968 the dilapidated freighter Corita hastily leaves Freetown to avoid a customs inspection. Captain Lansen (Eric Porter) has a cargo of dangerous explosives which he is smuggling so he can finally retire. His ship’s passengers also have reasons for leaving in a hurry. Dr. Webster (Nigel Stock), together with his daughter Unity (Suzanna leigh), is relocating due to his indiscretions with patients and illegal operations. Alcoholic pianist Harry Tyler (Tony Beckley) is aimlessly drifting from port to port. Eva Peters (Hildegard Knef) is fleeing from her husband with stolen bearer bonds which she intend to use to buy back her son from his evil clutches Caracas. Ricaldi (Ben Carruthers), a questionable lawyer, is pursuing Eva to retrieve the stolen bonds. First officer Hemmings (Neil McCallum) suggests that the ship should return to Freetown after an imminent Hurricane warning. The Captain asks the passengers and they are unanimous that they do not wish to return. However a mutinous crew, the bad weather and the instability of the explosives force everyone to abandon ship. The survivors find themselves adrift in a lifeboat surrounded by a strange carnivorous seaweed.
Jason Statham is an exemplar of the US mantra of “staying in your lane”. He makes action movies and occasionally strays into action comedies. His formula broadly works and is sufficiently lucrative to keep Mr. Statham employed. Therefore, if you watch a film in which he stars, you have a fairly good idea of what you’ll be getting. Of late, the criteria for his action vehicles have become more succinct. Jason Statham will play an innocuous character, such as a construction foreman or a bee keeper. Something terrible will subsequently befall another character who Mr. Statham has an emotional connection with in some capacity. He will subsequently hunt down those responsible and meet out death and violence. At some point the villain of the story will enquire as to how this innocuous person is so lethal. Research will then show that our Jason is in fact an ex-police officer/special forces operative/international assassin. There’s then a showdown and the villain dies. Job done.
The Light at the Edge of the World presented itself as an action movie upon its release in 1971. Based upon a story by Jules Verne, the Spanish American co-production was driven by its star Kirk Douglas, who curiously hired British director Kevin Billington to helm the project. This tale of a lighthouse keeper fighting a war of attrition against a group of pirates that have captured his island, was market as an adventure film ostensibly in the idiom of the authors previous works and as a pirate movie. MGM bought the rights to distribute the film in the UK on the misunderstanding that it was a family friendly production. It was not and remains so. They subsequently had to cut 15 minutes of violence and torture as well as an undercurrent of sexual assault to secure a suitable rating. Conversely, the US distributors received an arbitrary PG rating, despite the fact this is one of a handful of films that honestly depicts pirates as murderers, rapists and worse.
It’s an established action film trope. The fire team comprised of ex-military personnel, move in on their target. Only to have the tables turned by someone they don’t deem a threat. What makes it different in The Last Stand of Ellen Cole is a throwaway line of dialogue. The bested operative lies bleeding on the floor and the protagonists stands over them ready to finish them off. “Don’t, I have a cat” they feebly plead. For me that was the icing on the cake. The movie had already established it was taking the “same old, same old” and doing something different. Something fun, if taken in the right spirit. This scene tipped the balance and I embraced this film because it was being honest about what it is. This is a modern B movie that decides to give a very specific sub-genre a makeover. Furthermore, its clearly done with an affectionate wink, which is very different to sly wink. This isn’t deliberate self-knowing irony. Its just a film doing something different and possibly silly but it genuinely wants to have fun with it.
David Koepp is no stranger to genre cinema, having written the screenplay for such films as Jurassic Park, Spider-man and War of the Worlds. Where these titles are big budget, major studio productions, Cold Storage is a far more modest production with a smaller scope. Adapted from his own novel, the screenplay is by David Koepp and the film is directed by British film-maker Jonny Campbell. At first glance, Cold Storage seems a somewhat derivative science fiction horror film with a relatively modest budget, financed through a convoluted US and French co-production. Lurid green and red colours feature heavily in the marketing artwork and it is easy, after a cursory look, to write the film off as cheap, generic, direct-to-streaming filler. However, Cold Storage is prime example of why you should not judge a book by it’s cover, or in this case, a film by its posters and online advertising. It is in fact an amusing and fun endeavour that can fill an evening.
Despite being considered by many as an original story, The Abominable Snowman (1957) is in fact a remake of a made for television play, The Creature, that was originally broadcast in the UK in 1955. Hammer Films would often purchase the rights of popular TV programs and subsequently re-work them for mainstream, international cinema. Larger production budgets and fewer censorship restrictions allowed them to make their cinematic interpretations more lurid, thus commercially viable. Hence The Quatermass Xperiment, Quatermass II and Quatermass and the Pit were all given a big screen makeover and were commercially successful. The Abominable Snowman was written by acclaimed writer Nigel Kneale, who also wrote the original television drama and the aforementioned Quatermass trilogy. Although ostensibly marketed as a horror film this production is actually an interesting blend of psychological thriller and science fiction.
There are certain subjects that are notoriously uncinematic. These tend to be things that exist or are undertaken mainly in the mind, rather than expressed in an overtly physical way. Computing, science and mathematics are good examples. Writing code or working out complex equations does not immediately lend themselves to a visual medium such as cinema. Therefore, any film dealing with the world of corporate finance has its work cut out. Hence writer-director J C Chandor immediately deserves praise for making Margin Call, a film about the financial crash of 2008, as gripping and compelling as any political thriller. He does this by keeping the financial elements of the story to a minimum, choosing instead to focus upon those who have become aware of the imminent crisis and their reaction to it. However, the film remains a tough watch with regard to the some of the characters and their respective personal morality or lack there of.
The 1937 Hindenburg disaster has remained an enduring mystery over the years. The physical mechanics of how this airship filled with 7,000,000 cubic feet of hydrogen gas caught fire has been fully explored over the decades and there are now several extremely plausible theories as to how it may have happened. However, there remains the possibility of sabotage. As such an idea has more dramatic potential than mechanical failure, it was used as the central theme of the 1975 disaster movie The Hindenburg. Directed by Robert Wise, the screenplay by Nelson Gidding explores a German resistance against the Nazi regime. The airship is targeted as it is a powerful propaganda symbol for Hitler’s Germany. Sadly despite some interesting ideas, a strong cast and solid, old school optical effects, The Hindenburg is a slow and somewhat ponderous production. Although the final 20 minutes of the film recreate the infamous explosion meticulously, it doesn’t quite compensate for the uneventful, dialogue driven investigation of the previous 100 minutes.
On the Eastern Front in 1943, a German Tiger tank crew led by Lieutenant Philip Gerkens (David Schütter) is sent on a mission to rescue the missing officer Paul von Hardenburg (Tilman Strauss) from a top-secret bunker that is at risk of falling into enemy hands. As they make their way through an eerie no-man’s land, they have to avoid Russian armoured vehicles that seem to be aware of their mission. They also encounter a German unit taking punitive action against a peasant village, in reprisal for partisan activity in the area. The youngest crew member, Michel (Yoran Leicher), talks of the land being home to ghosts and spirits. As the tank penetrates further into contested territory the crew become increasingly disturbed by the uncanny nature of their mission and begin to fall prey to their own inner fears.
Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic novel has been adapted for cinema and television numerous times. Perhaps the most well known is the 1950 Disney version, starring Robert Newton as Long John Silver. His eye rolling performance and exaggerated West Country accent is credited with popularising the stereotypical form of “pirate speech" that has become the pop culture default. Although an enjoyable film, it does gloss over the more sinister aspects of both the source text and history, perpetuating the myth that pirates are just loveable scoundrels. Many subsequent adaptations have fallen into the same trap to a greater or lesser degree. However, that is not the case with the 1990 version of Treasure island, which was made for the TNT cable network and released theatrically outside of the US. This darker and notably more violent adaptation closely follows the source text and is widely considered the most faithful to the book.
The Planet of the Apes movie franchise took a radical change of course with its third entry in the series. The first two films were set in the future and benefited from high production values to help realise a post apocalyptic earth. However, due to a substantial reduction of budget, Escape from the Planet of the Apes uses a time travel plot device to bring the ape protagonists to present day Los Angeles (1971 in this case). The result is a film with a much smaller narrative scope. However, although it lacks the science fiction spectacle of its predecessors, it features an interesting satirical exploration of celebrity culture and ponders what it is like to be deemed an enemy of the state. As ever, Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter provide exceptional lead performances as the Chimpanzees Cornelius and Zira. Escape from the Planet of the Apes also captures the pop culture vibe of seventies America.
It is not unusual for Disney to change film titles when marketing them outside of the US. In 2016 they renamed the animated feature film Zootopia to Zootropolis in the UK and Europe to avoid trademark conflicts with other existing businesses. For example there is a Danish zoo which already holds the “Zootopia” name. Similarly, in Germany there is a children’s book which caused copyright conflict, which led to the film being released under the title Zoomania. Such changes, although practical for legal reasons, can sometimes cause a degree of confusion. Especially as there are numerous, low budget productions companies that go out of their way to produce similarly titled “mockbusters” whenever there are big, tentpole, releases. So for clarity, Zootopia 2 has been released in the UK as Zootropolis 2.
Stephen King’s dystopian story, The Running Man, was previously adapted very loosely in 1987, as a vehicle for Arnold Schwarzenegger. That version focused mainly on the “Battle Royale” element of the story and leaned heavily into Arnie’s personality, rather than the politics of the book. It also wasn’t well received by the author. Edgar Wright’s remake follows the source text a lot more closely and is far more interested in its political themes and wider social commentary. Furthermore, this version re-establishes the everyman quality of the hero of Ben Richards, rather than him being the muscle bound, ex-military hero as per Mr. Schwarzenegger’s prior interpretation. This time round, The Running Man uses a lot of the visual and narrative tropes of contemporary reality TV, making this forty three year old story very relevant to today’s viewers and couching the film in a style that is recognisable and accessible.
The Haunted Dolls House is a short film based on a story by M.R. James about a unique antique that is subject to supernatural phenomenon. Adapted by Stephen Gray and David Lilley, this is the third of three short films based upon James’ work that the pair have made. It stars Steven Dolton as Mr. Dillet, a collector of antique dolls houses, who acquires a bargain only to discover that it harbours a ghostly secret. Made on an extremely modest budget over the course of 2012 this clever, innovative and rather sinister adaptation is a fine example of short film creativity. It manages to offer a unique visual depiction of M.R. James’ classic story whilst capturing the unsettling quality of the author’s work. Like so many independently made short films it is clearly a labour of love, made with modest resources. It succinctly captures the spirit of the author’s work and is both innovative and rewarding.
A lot of people may know Luke Evans from the live action version of Beauty and the Beast or Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit trilogy. With his matinee idol good looks, charming Welsh demeanour and his “smoky” tenor singing voice, he projects a sense of old school stardom. Which brings us to No One Lives; a film which is a radical departure from his previous work. His performance is disconcerting to say the least and the film is somewhat unhinged. Directed by Ryuhei Kitamura, who made an interesting adaptation of Clive Barker’s The Midnight Meat Train, this cinematic outing is similarly replete with robust shocks and gore. There are some interesting ideas about the nature of violence, Stockholm Syndrome and whether one should deny or embrace one’s nature. However, these are ultimately minor asides. Philosophical musings in between bouts of surprisingly striking unpleasantness.
In the near future, Kepler 822, a research and drilling facility located at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, suffers a sudden and catastrophic structural failure. There are only six survivors. Mechanical engineer Norah Price (Kristen Stewart), Captain Lucien (Vincent Cassel), biologist Emily Haversham (Jessica Henwick), engineer Liam Smith (John Gallagher Jr.) and crew members Rodrigo (Mamoudou Athie) and Paul (T.J. Miller). As all the functional escape pods have been used and they are unable to contact the surface, the Captain suggests using pressurized suits to walk one mile across the ocean floor to the Roebuck 641 drill installation. There they will find more escape pods. However, it soon becomes apparent that the disaster was not caused by an undersea earthquake and that they are not alone as they make their journey.
One of the most common objections raised regarding the Jurassic Park/Jurassic World franchise is that the films are specifically made to obtain a PG-13 rating from the Motion Picture Association, for purely commercial reasons. Hence, in all films, there is little on screen violence and the dinosaurs are mainly portrayed as a threat and a means of providing jump scares. When a character is killed by a dinosaur it usually happens off screen, is obscured by something else in frame, or is shown in long shot with very little detail. The realities of being eaten alive by a predator are conspicuously absent. Hence, audiences looking for films featuring more graphic dinosaur attacks, have not been well catered for apart from some minor direct-to-video titles. Primitive War finally fills this gap in the market with a frenetic genre mashup that strives to punch above is budgetary weight.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
The Hunting Party (1971)
The Hunting Party is a curious Western, made at a time when the genre was struggling to maintain its popularity with the viewing public. Melissa Ruger (Candice Bergen) is a school teacher married to wealthy Cattle Baron, Brandt Ruger (Gene Hackman). When she is abducted by outlaw Frank Calder (Oliver Reed) and his gang, he husband is naturally incensed. He quickly arranges a posse of business associates and uses his personal fortune to equips them all with the latest long-range hunting rifles with telescopic sights. He then sets off in pursuit of Calder's trail before they can cross the border. However, it soon becomes apparent to Ruger’s associates that he may have other motives than just rescuing his wife.
The Hunting Party is a curious Western, made at a time when the genre was struggling to maintain its popularity with the viewing public. Melissa Ruger (Candice Bergen) is a school teacher married to wealthy Cattle Baron, Brandt Ruger (Gene Hackman). When she is abducted by outlaw Frank Calder (Oliver Reed) and his gang, he husband is naturally incensed. He quickly arranges a posse of business associates and uses his personal fortune to equips them all with the latest long-range hunting rifles with telescopic sights. He then sets off in pursuit of Calder's trail before they can cross the border. However, it soon becomes apparent to Ruger’s associates that he may have other motives than just rescuing his wife.
Shot on location in Almería Spain, this gritty western has a strong cast and an intriguing premise. Calder kidnaps Melissa so she can teach him to read. Ruger, a brutal, sadistic and sexually impotent man, is more concerned about maintaining his reputation and demonstrating that no one touches his property. Melissa is drawn to Calder despite his outlaw persona and hopes to save him from himself. However, director Don Medford fails to develop any of these story lines and instead opts to shock with sexual violence and brutal slow-motion shootouts. Ruger’s long-range rifles allow him and his posse to conveniently pick off Calder's men from a great distance.
Despite the films shortcoming it is very interesting to see Oliver Reed in a western and as ever, he acquits himself as well despite the flaws in the screenplay. There is an solid soundtrack by Riz Ortolani and good make up effects by José Antonio Sánchez. The seventies produced many hybrid westerns as the genre strived to maintain its relevance. Sadly, The Hunting Party ultimately fails to make its mark. The themes of Stockholm Syndrome and self-fulfilment are left undeveloped. The film tries to emulate Peckinpah but falls short of his narrative standards. Perhaps director Don Medford, thought the bleak ending was making a broader point. As it stands it simply ends a story that has nowhere else to go.
From the 1950s to the mid 1970s, most major film stars would appear in a western at some point in their career. The western genre was simply too popular and lucrative to avoid or dismiss. So it probably won’t come as a surprise to learn that after he walked away from James Bond in 1967, Sean Connery appeared in the western Shalako, a year later. Based on a novel by Louis L’Amour, this European financed production with an international cast is a curious beast that straddles two competing approaches to the genre. The traditional, romanticised western with its stylised tropes was giving way to a grittier, revisionist approach. Shalako still feels like an example of the former but director Edward Dmytryk does not shy away from the more contemporary use of violence. The film drags, especially during the awkward romantic interludes between Connery and Brigitte Bardot. But the action scenes are quite gritty and some of the story’s themes are quite dour.
Soldier Blue is an American Revisionist Western from 1970, directed by Ralph Nelson, telling a fictionalised account of the events surrounding the 1864 Sand Creek massacre in the Colorado Territory. It was written by John Gay based on the novel "Arrow in the Sun" by Theodore V. Olsen and starred Candice Bergen, Peter Strauss, and Donald Pleasence. The title song was performed by Buffy Sainte-Marie. Released during the height of the Vietnam War against the backdrop of the Mỹ Lai massacre, it provided a depiction of a notorious incident in the history of the American frontier, in which troops massacred an undefended village of Cheyenne and Arapaho Indians. The film creates a back story involving the escape of white survivors from an earlier massacre of U.S. Cavalry troops by Indians. The film was controversial at the time not only as a revisionist western but for its graphic levels of violence. Director Nelson, pushed the depiction of the violence to new levels, showing graphic rape scenes, as well as "realistic" atrocities.
I have been revisiting the western genre and reacquainting myself with some of its more cerebral examples. Ulzanna’s Raid (1972) and Tom Horn (1980) certainly helped remind me of the diversity of themes and the scope of subjects that this genre has explored over the years. Obviously due to the westerns decline in popularity, there are fewer examples to cite from recent years, although I would single out Open Range (2003) and 3:10 to Yuma (2007). However, Appaloosa (2008) is a movie that embodies all the narrative qualities that a good western can achieve and furthermore it does so without the need to re-invent the wheel. In structural terms, this is old school cinema and all the better for it.
Stephen King’s body of work has proven to be an invaluable source of material for film and television over the last forty years. The results have often been as varied as the books themselves. Because of the inherent differences between the respective mediums, sometimes the complexity and sheer scope of King’s work can be lost in translation from one to the other. It’s happened before with several high-profile adaptations and it will no doubt happen again. The Dark Tower is a classic example failing to capture the essence of King’s work. Trying to distil and convey a mythos that is spread over eight volumes, into a single movie is a tall order for any director and screen writer. It can be cogently argued that material of this sort is better suited to television where lengthy, complex story arcs can be indulged and characters can be explored at leisure. In fact, during it’s time in development hell, The Dark Tower was at one point destined to be adapted for the small screen. However, the desire to create a lucrative film franchise ultimately prevailed.
The Hunting Party is a curious Western, made at a time when the genre was struggling to maintain its popularity with the viewing public. Melissa Ruger (Candice Bergen) is a school teacher married to wealthy Cattle Baron, Brandt Ruger (Gene Hackman). When she is abducted by outlaw Frank Calder (Oliver Reed) and his gang, he husband is naturally incensed. He quickly arranges a posse of business associates and uses his personal fortune to equips them all with the latest long-range hunting rifles with telescopic sights. He then sets off in pursuit of Calder's trail before they can cross the border. However, it soon becomes apparent to Ruger’s associates that he may have other motives than just rescuing his wife.
The Outlaw Josey Wales is often hailed as the last great western from the golden era of the genre. As a child when I first saw the movie, I failed to appreciate its subtleties, having been raised on a more traditional diet of movies from this genre such as El Dorado. It has only been in more recent years that I have revised my opinion of this finely crafted piece of cinema. It is radically different from the much of Clint Eastwood's earlier work and most certainly displays a quality in his film making that was not apparent previously.
El Dorado opens with a montage of paintings by celebrated Western artists Olaf Weighorst. These beautiful pictures in many ways reflect the nature of the movie, depicting a stylised representation of the Old West that despite its beauty, never really existed. Director Howard Hawks includes every possible genre trope and meme into El Dorado but far from being a handicap, it makes the movie a perfect distillation of Hollywood Western. The pairing of John Wayne and Robert Mitchum is sublime as the two effortlessly riff off each other. If you need an example of how the Western is the most flexible and accessible movie genre, then El Dorado is a text book example.
As the Western waned in popularity in the seventies, the Italian market was still further revising this already stylised genre with a distinctly comedic element. The uniquely European approach to slapstick was introduced as a mean to try and explore the genre in new ways. Unlike US comedy Westerns such as The Hallelujah Trail and There Was a Crooked Man, their Italians counterparts seemed to have an allegorical theme and as ever a heavy political sub-text. They were also steeped in the unique audio and visual style of their makers.
Dracula Untold (2014)
I passed on opportunity of seeing Dracula Untold at the cinema in late 2014, as I was not overly impressed by what I had seen from the trailers. I finally caught up with Universal's reboot of the franchise, hoping that a home viewing and tempered expectations would make me more cordially disposed towards the film. Sadly, the movie turned out exactly as I had surmised, proving to be a superficial under taking with no narrative depth. Furthermore, is was a bloodless action film, rather than a true horror movie, resulting in a very unsatisfying compromise. The fact that this movie made over $200 million globally at the box office saddens me.
I passed on opportunity of seeing Dracula Untold at the cinema in late 2014, as I was not overly impressed by what I had seen from the trailers. I finally caught up with Universal's reboot of the franchise, hoping that a home viewing and tempered expectations would make me more cordially disposed towards the film. Sadly, the movie turned out exactly as I had surmised, proving to be a superficial under taking with no narrative depth. Furthermore, is was a bloodless action film, rather than a true horror movie, resulting in a very unsatisfying compromise. The fact that this movie made over $200 million globally at the box office saddens me.
Dracula Untold benefits from the presence of Luke Evans as Vlad the Impaler. He is a likeable actor with old fashioned good looks. Sadly, there's is precious little for him to do during the films somewhat brief ninety-two-minute running time. The plot, dialogue and character development are perfunctory to say the least. Writers Matt Sazama and Burk Sharpless script offers no depth or sophistication, rendering everything binary and simplistic. Dominic Cooper has zero credibility as the villainous Turkish Sultan, Mehmed the Conqueror. He is simply "bad" because that's what we are told in the most pedestrian fashion. Similarly, the passionate relationship between Vlad and his wife, Mirena (Sarah Gadon) lacks any dramatic conviction.
As usual these days with movies that hope to start a teen friendly franchise, the entire production seems far more concerned with visual style and overall ambience. The effects are impressive but cannot ultimately sustain a movie of this nature. The lack of emotional content meant that I was fundamentally indifferent to the central character’s plight. Furthermore, I couldn't even take comfort in the action sequences as they're meticulously edited to the requirements of the rating. This is a bloodless vampire movie and with little or no suspense and unpleasantness. Not even the scenes with Charles Dance as the master vampire can save things. This is a woefully anaemic tale about the undead, which is contradictory in itself.
Perhaps the most saddening thing about Dracula Untold is the fact that I can't even summon the energy to get angry about what a poor movie it is. This is simply par for the course. The movie was conceived and pitched with a very specific market in mind. One that is young and unfamiliar with the superior cinematic heritage that exists. The tone, pacing and superficial nature of the film is tailor made for an audience that loves to consume such material. While this demographic continues to robustly support such material then the studios will naturally continue to churn it out. It will be interesting to see if Universal Studios reboot of The Mummy this summer is any improvement cinematically.
Mainstream films are easy to recommend to people. They’re usually formulaic, work within clear parameters and they’re not controversial. Most people, when viewing such film on someone else’s suggestion, are left with a fairly simply choice. Did they like it or not? Whatever the outcome, no feathers are ruffled. No one looks at you askance afterwards and says “why the hell did you think I’d like that piece of shit”? If something like this happens, then you have clearly not recommended a mainstream film. Perhaps you’ve suggested something that’s a little more of an acquired taste. Something niche, from a very specific sub-genre. Which brings me neatly to Blazing Magnum AKA Strange Shadows in an Empty Room (1976). The US title gives the impression that this film is a hard boiled cop thriller, like so many others that followed in the wake of Dirty Harry. But there’s a clue in the European title. Yes, this movie has more than just a whiff of a giallo about it.
In the year 1860, Baron Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) faces execution by guillotine for the murders perpetrated by the creature he created. With the assistance of a hunchback named Karl (Oscar Quitak) he avoids death by beheading the priest who came to give him the last rites. The priest’s body is then mistakenly buried by the authorities. Three years later, Victor, now using the name Doctor Stein, has established himself as a prosperous physician in Karlsbrück, serving both affluent patients and the poor at a paupers’ hospital. Hans Kleve (Francis Matthews), a junior member of the medical council, recognises Victor and being an admirer, seeks to become his apprentice. Victor and Hans then undertake an experiment to transplant Karl’s living brain into a new, more refined body, rather than a grotesque monstrosity the Baron has previously made. Karl is eager to have a new healthy body, especially after encountering Margaret Conrad (Eunice Gayson), the charming new assistant at the hospital.
This movie questionnaire was originally created by Alexander from Cinemaniac Reviews. Sadly, I believe that website is now defunct. However, that doesn’t in anyway invalidate the questionnaire itself which has some very good questions about your relationship with cinema. Some of my answers to the questions posed are about films that I enjoy, as opposed to those that are considered cinematic classics. However, I have answered some questions more seriously than others, especially the one about undeserving recipients of the Best Film Oscar. I struggled with a couple of questions because I no longer go the cinema as frequently as I did 10 years ago. This is mainly due to the fact that a lot of the films I find interesting end up going straight to streaming after very brief theatrical releases. Some do not even get shown in cinemas. Hence I view far more at home. But I digress. On with the questions and answers. Feel free to comment below and share your views.
Exit 8 is a sophisticated and claustrophobic psychological thriller directed by Genki Kawamura, which skilfully transforms a minimalist indie walking-simulator game into a cinematic existential enigma. This overtly metaphorical film renders the repetitive nature and drudgery of modern working life into a physical environment in which the lead character is trapped and must find a way out. A random, brutal maze filled with an atmosphere of indifference to the lab rats that find themselves trapped within. Or is it their personal guilt that has put them there? Genki Kawamura’s psychological mystery draws inspiration from the Japanese video game of the same name, as well as from the cyclical nature of Groundhog Day and endless corridors of the Overlook Hotel in Kubrick’s The Shining. Although there are jump scares and some ghoulish imagery, this is not a horror vehicle. Instead this is a disquieting psychological drama with a strong sense of morality.
I wrote a post 18 month’s ago regarding whether a directors cut of a film is superior by default to the version originally shown in cinemas. Obviously the answer was no and I then went on to give three examples of films where I think the theatrical release is better to lengthier or substantially altered director’s cut that was subsequently made available at a later date. This time round in this post, I would like to do the complete opposite. I shall provide some examples of films that I think are significantly improved by a longer cut or a substantially, restructured edit. Note some of these examples are technically not a “director’s cuts” but a restoration or reconstruction of the director’s original vision. I shall endeavour to highlight what specific material or broader changes make each respective film “better”. As ever, all of these examples are a matter of subjective opinion and my views are presented as such, not “fact”.
In 1968 the dilapidated freighter Corita hastily leaves Freetown to avoid a customs inspection. Captain Lansen (Eric Porter) has a cargo of dangerous explosives which he is smuggling so he can finally retire. His ship’s passengers also have reasons for leaving in a hurry. Dr. Webster (Nigel Stock), together with his daughter Unity (Suzanna leigh), is relocating due to his indiscretions with patients and illegal operations. Alcoholic pianist Harry Tyler (Tony Beckley) is aimlessly drifting from port to port. Eva Peters (Hildegard Knef) is fleeing from her husband with stolen bearer bonds which she intend to use to buy back her son from his evil clutches Caracas. Ricaldi (Ben Carruthers), a questionable lawyer, is pursuing Eva to retrieve the stolen bonds. First officer Hemmings (Neil McCallum) suggests that the ship should return to Freetown after an imminent Hurricane warning. The Captain asks the passengers and they are unanimous that they do not wish to return. However a mutinous crew, the bad weather and the instability of the explosives force everyone to abandon ship. The survivors find themselves adrift in a lifeboat surrounded by a strange carnivorous seaweed.
Jason Statham is an exemplar of the US mantra of “staying in your lane”. He makes action movies and occasionally strays into action comedies. His formula broadly works and is sufficiently lucrative to keep Mr. Statham employed. Therefore, if you watch a film in which he stars, you have a fairly good idea of what you’ll be getting. Of late, the criteria for his action vehicles have become more succinct. Jason Statham will play an innocuous character, such as a construction foreman or a bee keeper. Something terrible will subsequently befall another character who Mr. Statham has an emotional connection with in some capacity. He will subsequently hunt down those responsible and meet out death and violence. At some point the villain of the story will enquire as to how this innocuous person is so lethal. Research will then show that our Jason is in fact an ex-police officer/special forces operative/international assassin. There’s then a showdown and the villain dies. Job done.
The Light at the Edge of the World presented itself as an action movie upon its release in 1971. Based upon a story by Jules Verne, the Spanish American co-production was driven by its star Kirk Douglas, who curiously hired British director Kevin Billington to helm the project. This tale of a lighthouse keeper fighting a war of attrition against a group of pirates that have captured his island, was market as an adventure film ostensibly in the idiom of the authors previous works and as a pirate movie. MGM bought the rights to distribute the film in the UK on the misunderstanding that it was a family friendly production. It was not and remains so. They subsequently had to cut 15 minutes of violence and torture as well as an undercurrent of sexual assault to secure a suitable rating. Conversely, the US distributors received an arbitrary PG rating, despite the fact this is one of a handful of films that honestly depicts pirates as murderers, rapists and worse.
It’s an established action film trope. The fire team comprised of ex-military personnel, move in on their target. Only to have the tables turned by someone they don’t deem a threat. What makes it different in The Last Stand of Ellen Cole is a throwaway line of dialogue. The bested operative lies bleeding on the floor and the protagonists stands over them ready to finish them off. “Don’t, I have a cat” they feebly plead. For me that was the icing on the cake. The movie had already established it was taking the “same old, same old” and doing something different. Something fun, if taken in the right spirit. This scene tipped the balance and I embraced this film because it was being honest about what it is. This is a modern B movie that decides to give a very specific sub-genre a makeover. Furthermore, its clearly done with an affectionate wink, which is very different to sly wink. This isn’t deliberate self-knowing irony. Its just a film doing something different and possibly silly but it genuinely wants to have fun with it.
David Koepp is no stranger to genre cinema, having written the screenplay for such films as Jurassic Park, Spider-man and War of the Worlds. Where these titles are big budget, major studio productions, Cold Storage is a far more modest production with a smaller scope. Adapted from his own novel, the screenplay is by David Koepp and the film is directed by British film-maker Jonny Campbell. At first glance, Cold Storage seems a somewhat derivative science fiction horror film with a relatively modest budget, financed through a convoluted US and French co-production. Lurid green and red colours feature heavily in the marketing artwork and it is easy, after a cursory look, to write the film off as cheap, generic, direct-to-streaming filler. However, Cold Storage is prime example of why you should not judge a book by it’s cover, or in this case, a film by its posters and online advertising. It is in fact an amusing and fun endeavour that can fill an evening.
Despite being considered by many as an original story, The Abominable Snowman (1957) is in fact a remake of a made for television play, The Creature, that was originally broadcast in the UK in 1955. Hammer Films would often purchase the rights of popular TV programs and subsequently re-work them for mainstream, international cinema. Larger production budgets and fewer censorship restrictions allowed them to make their cinematic interpretations more lurid, thus commercially viable. Hence The Quatermass Xperiment, Quatermass II and Quatermass and the Pit were all given a big screen makeover and were commercially successful. The Abominable Snowman was written by acclaimed writer Nigel Kneale, who also wrote the original television drama and the aforementioned Quatermass trilogy. Although ostensibly marketed as a horror film this production is actually an interesting blend of psychological thriller and science fiction.
There are certain subjects that are notoriously uncinematic. These tend to be things that exist or are undertaken mainly in the mind, rather than expressed in an overtly physical way. Computing, science and mathematics are good examples. Writing code or working out complex equations does not immediately lend themselves to a visual medium such as cinema. Therefore, any film dealing with the world of corporate finance has its work cut out. Hence writer-director J C Chandor immediately deserves praise for making Margin Call, a film about the financial crash of 2008, as gripping and compelling as any political thriller. He does this by keeping the financial elements of the story to a minimum, choosing instead to focus upon those who have become aware of the imminent crisis and their reaction to it. However, the film remains a tough watch with regard to the some of the characters and their respective personal morality or lack there of.
The 1937 Hindenburg disaster has remained an enduring mystery over the years. The physical mechanics of how this airship filled with 7,000,000 cubic feet of hydrogen gas caught fire has been fully explored over the decades and there are now several extremely plausible theories as to how it may have happened. However, there remains the possibility of sabotage. As such an idea has more dramatic potential than mechanical failure, it was used as the central theme of the 1975 disaster movie The Hindenburg. Directed by Robert Wise, the screenplay by Nelson Gidding explores a German resistance against the Nazi regime. The airship is targeted as it is a powerful propaganda symbol for Hitler’s Germany. Sadly despite some interesting ideas, a strong cast and solid, old school optical effects, The Hindenburg is a slow and somewhat ponderous production. Although the final 20 minutes of the film recreate the infamous explosion meticulously, it doesn’t quite compensate for the uneventful, dialogue driven investigation of the previous 100 minutes.
On the Eastern Front in 1943, a German Tiger tank crew led by Lieutenant Philip Gerkens (David Schütter) is sent on a mission to rescue the missing officer Paul von Hardenburg (Tilman Strauss) from a top-secret bunker that is at risk of falling into enemy hands. As they make their way through an eerie no-man’s land, they have to avoid Russian armoured vehicles that seem to be aware of their mission. They also encounter a German unit taking punitive action against a peasant village, in reprisal for partisan activity in the area. The youngest crew member, Michel (Yoran Leicher), talks of the land being home to ghosts and spirits. As the tank penetrates further into contested territory the crew become increasingly disturbed by the uncanny nature of their mission and begin to fall prey to their own inner fears.
Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic novel has been adapted for cinema and television numerous times. Perhaps the most well known is the 1950 Disney version, starring Robert Newton as Long John Silver. His eye rolling performance and exaggerated West Country accent is credited with popularising the stereotypical form of “pirate speech" that has become the pop culture default. Although an enjoyable film, it does gloss over the more sinister aspects of both the source text and history, perpetuating the myth that pirates are just loveable scoundrels. Many subsequent adaptations have fallen into the same trap to a greater or lesser degree. However, that is not the case with the 1990 version of Treasure island, which was made for the TNT cable network and released theatrically outside of the US. This darker and notably more violent adaptation closely follows the source text and is widely considered the most faithful to the book.
The Planet of the Apes movie franchise took a radical change of course with its third entry in the series. The first two films were set in the future and benefited from high production values to help realise a post apocalyptic earth. However, due to a substantial reduction of budget, Escape from the Planet of the Apes uses a time travel plot device to bring the ape protagonists to present day Los Angeles (1971 in this case). The result is a film with a much smaller narrative scope. However, although it lacks the science fiction spectacle of its predecessors, it features an interesting satirical exploration of celebrity culture and ponders what it is like to be deemed an enemy of the state. As ever, Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter provide exceptional lead performances as the Chimpanzees Cornelius and Zira. Escape from the Planet of the Apes also captures the pop culture vibe of seventies America.
It is not unusual for Disney to change film titles when marketing them outside of the US. In 2016 they renamed the animated feature film Zootopia to Zootropolis in the UK and Europe to avoid trademark conflicts with other existing businesses. For example there is a Danish zoo which already holds the “Zootopia” name. Similarly, in Germany there is a children’s book which caused copyright conflict, which led to the film being released under the title Zoomania. Such changes, although practical for legal reasons, can sometimes cause a degree of confusion. Especially as there are numerous, low budget productions companies that go out of their way to produce similarly titled “mockbusters” whenever there are big, tentpole, releases. So for clarity, Zootopia 2 has been released in the UK as Zootropolis 2.
Stephen King’s dystopian story, The Running Man, was previously adapted very loosely in 1987, as a vehicle for Arnold Schwarzenegger. That version focused mainly on the “Battle Royale” element of the story and leaned heavily into Arnie’s personality, rather than the politics of the book. It also wasn’t well received by the author. Edgar Wright’s remake follows the source text a lot more closely and is far more interested in its political themes and wider social commentary. Furthermore, this version re-establishes the everyman quality of the hero of Ben Richards, rather than him being the muscle bound, ex-military hero as per Mr. Schwarzenegger’s prior interpretation. This time round, The Running Man uses a lot of the visual and narrative tropes of contemporary reality TV, making this forty three year old story very relevant to today’s viewers and couching the film in a style that is recognisable and accessible.
The Haunted Dolls House is a short film based on a story by M.R. James about a unique antique that is subject to supernatural phenomenon. Adapted by Stephen Gray and David Lilley, this is the third of three short films based upon James’ work that the pair have made. It stars Steven Dolton as Mr. Dillet, a collector of antique dolls houses, who acquires a bargain only to discover that it harbours a ghostly secret. Made on an extremely modest budget over the course of 2012 this clever, innovative and rather sinister adaptation is a fine example of short film creativity. It manages to offer a unique visual depiction of M.R. James’ classic story whilst capturing the unsettling quality of the author’s work. Like so many independently made short films it is clearly a labour of love, made with modest resources. It succinctly captures the spirit of the author’s work and is both innovative and rewarding.
A lot of people may know Luke Evans from the live action version of Beauty and the Beast or Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit trilogy. With his matinee idol good looks, charming Welsh demeanour and his “smoky” tenor singing voice, he projects a sense of old school stardom. Which brings us to No One Lives; a film which is a radical departure from his previous work. His performance is disconcerting to say the least and the film is somewhat unhinged. Directed by Ryuhei Kitamura, who made an interesting adaptation of Clive Barker’s The Midnight Meat Train, this cinematic outing is similarly replete with robust shocks and gore. There are some interesting ideas about the nature of violence, Stockholm Syndrome and whether one should deny or embrace one’s nature. However, these are ultimately minor asides. Philosophical musings in between bouts of surprisingly striking unpleasantness.
In the near future, Kepler 822, a research and drilling facility located at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, suffers a sudden and catastrophic structural failure. There are only six survivors. Mechanical engineer Norah Price (Kristen Stewart), Captain Lucien (Vincent Cassel), biologist Emily Haversham (Jessica Henwick), engineer Liam Smith (John Gallagher Jr.) and crew members Rodrigo (Mamoudou Athie) and Paul (T.J. Miller). As all the functional escape pods have been used and they are unable to contact the surface, the Captain suggests using pressurized suits to walk one mile across the ocean floor to the Roebuck 641 drill installation. There they will find more escape pods. However, it soon becomes apparent that the disaster was not caused by an undersea earthquake and that they are not alone as they make their journey.
One of the most common objections raised regarding the Jurassic Park/Jurassic World franchise is that the films are specifically made to obtain a PG-13 rating from the Motion Picture Association, for purely commercial reasons. Hence, in all films, there is little on screen violence and the dinosaurs are mainly portrayed as a threat and a means of providing jump scares. When a character is killed by a dinosaur it usually happens off screen, is obscured by something else in frame, or is shown in long shot with very little detail. The realities of being eaten alive by a predator are conspicuously absent. Hence, audiences looking for films featuring more graphic dinosaur attacks, have not been well catered for apart from some minor direct-to-video titles. Primitive War finally fills this gap in the market with a frenetic genre mashup that strives to punch above is budgetary weight.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Classic Movie Themes: The Taking of Pelham One Two Three
The Taking of Pelham One Two Three, is possibly one of the best thrillers of the Seventies. Not only does this underground heist movie have a well-crafted screenplay filled with hard-boiled dialogue and dry quips, it also features a cast of quality character actors, such as Walther Matthau, Robert Shaw and Martin Balsam. It also boasts a superb score by composer David Shire. This embellishes the film, underpinning the key dramatic and action sequences. Over the years The Taking of Pelham One Two Three soundtrack has become very popular with collectors and fans.
The Taking of Pelham One Two Three, is possibly one of the best thrillers of the Seventies. Not only does this underground heist movie have a well-crafted screenplay filled with hard-boiled dialogue and dry quips, it also features a cast of quality character actors, such as Walther Matthau, Robert Shaw and Martin Balsam. It also boasts a superb score by composer David Shire. This embellishes the film, underpinning the key dramatic and action sequences. Over the years The Taking of Pelham One Two Three soundtrack has become very popular with collectors and fans.
Shire uses serial techniques and a funky multicultural rhythm section for the main theme. The twelve-tone composition method creates an unusual, somewhat dissonant melody. It is brass heavy with a healthy dose of electric piano. This was often the instrument of choice of that other great composer of the time, Lalo Schifrin. The overall style is intended to evoke the bustle and diversity of New York City, with it pounding rhythm. Shire received two Grammy nominations for his work on the film. Here are both the opening and closing variations of the central theme from the film, for your enjoyment.
The Planet of the Apes movie franchise took a radical change of course with its third entry in the series. The first two films were set in the future and benefited from high production values to help realise a post apocalyptic earth. However, due to a substantial reduction of budget, Escape from the Planet of the Apes uses a time travel plot device to bring the ape protagonists to present day Los Angeles (1971 in this case). The result is a film with a much smaller narrative scope. However, although it lacks the science fiction spectacle of its predecessors, it features an interesting satirical exploration of celebrity culture and ponders what it is like to be deemed an enemy of the state. As ever, Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter provide exceptional lead performances as the Chimpanzees Cornelius and Zira. Escape from the Planet of the Apes also captures the pop culture vibe of seventies America.
Ronald Erle Grainer (11 August 1922 – 21 February 1981) was a prolific Australian composer who is best remembered for his work in the United Kingdom during the sixties and seventies. He wrote numerous notable scores and theme music for several iconic television shows such as Doctor Who, Steptoe and Son and Tales of the Unexpected. He also composed the soundtrack for several major motion pictures such as Some People (1962), The Assassination Bureau (1969) and The Omega Man (1971). Grainer relocated to London from Australia in 1952 but it was not until 1960 that he gained critical success after writing the music for the popular TV show Maigret. He subsequently received an Ivor Novello award for “Outstanding Composition for Film, TV or Radio”.
The following is about a cultural change. That is not to say that it’s a value judgement or one of those posts you so frequently read by bloggers of a certain age, that essentially boil down to “things were better in my day”. It is merely an observation and like all observations it is not 100% universal. There will always be exceptions to the rule. I am simply painting with broad strokes a general truism for your consideration. My point being that people listen, experience and enjoy music differently these days compared to how they did three to four decades ago. I’m not talking about the science of hearing or anything complex like that. I am merely highlighting the change in the way we choose to experience music and how that has an impact upon its creation and presentation. So like Anne Elk, presenting her theory on the Brontosaurus, here is the axiom at the heart of this post.
Allonsanfàn (1974) is an Italian historical drama film written and directed by Paolo and Vittorio Taviani. The title of the film derives from the first words of the French Revolutionary anthem La Marseillaise (Allons enfants, IE “Arise, children”). It is also the name of a character in the story. Set against the backdrop of the Italian Unification in early 19th-century Italy, Marcello Mastroianni stars as an ageing revolutionary, Fulvio Imbriani, who becomes disillusioned after the Restoration and endeavours to betray his companions, who are organising an insurrection in Southern Italy. Allonsanfàn is a complex film that is not immediately accessible to those unfamiliar with the intricacies of Italian political history nor the arthouse style of the Taviani brothers. However, it is visually arresting and features a rousing score by Ennio Morricone.
Jerry Goldsmith’s contribution to Star Trek is immense. Yet simply listing the films and TV episodes he wrote music for does not adequately encapsulate the significance of his contribution to the franchise. His majestic, thoughtful and uplifting musical scores provide an emotional foundation that reflects the core ethos of Star Trek. They also create an invaluable sense of continuity that spans multiple shows and movies. Perhaps the most obvious example of this is his iconic title music for Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979) that was subsequently adopted as the theme tune for Star Trek: The Next Generation. His work was held in such high regard, when Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989) ran into production issues, it was thought that a Jerry Goldsmith soundtrack may well elevate the film. Sadly it didn’t but his work on that instalment was outstanding and among his best.
Halloween (1978) is both a genre and cinematic milestone. It made stars of Jamie Lee Curtis and director John Carpenter as well as kickstarting the slasher genre that dominated the box office for the next 15 years. Unlike many of the inferior imitations that followed in its wake, Halloween is not a gorefest but a far more suspenseful and unsettling film. It’s shocks and sinister atmosphere are the result of sumptuous panavision cinematography by Dean Cundey and inventive editing by Tommy Wallace and Charles Bornstein. Another invaluable asset to the film’s effectiveness is John Carpenter minimalistic synth and piano score which perfectly embellishes the film with an air of menace. After 33 years and various re-arrangements in subsequent sequels, the original Halloween Theme is still as effective today as it was when the film was first released.
Tenebrae (1982) is probably Dario Argento’s most accessible “giallo” for mainstream audiences. Although violent, it is not as narratively complex as Deep Red (1975) or as bat shit crazy as Phenomena (1985). The story centres on popular American novelist Peter Neal (Anthony Fanciosa) who is in Rome to promote his latest book. Events take a turn for the worst when a series of murders appear to have been inspired by his work. The plot twists and turns, the director explores themes such as dualism along with sexual aberration and blood is copiously spattered across the white walled interiors of modernist buildings. It is slick, disturbing and has a pounding synth and rock score by former Goblin members, Claudio Simonetti, Fabio Pignatelli, and Massimo Morante.
An American Werewolf in London is a genre milestone and one of the few horror films that successfully manages to balance humour and suspense without mitigating the overall tone of the story. 40 years on from its theatrical release it still holds up well with its bitter sweet love story, tragic themes and ground breaking transformation effects by Rick Baker. Director John Landis never really bettered this concise and effective genre outing. It hits the mark in virtually every part of the production. However, there is one aspect of the film that does suffer as a result of the director’s personal choices. Whether it is to the detriment of the overall film is debatable. The point in question is the film’s soundtrack and the director’s focus upon the song Blue Moon by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart.
Before we start, no I am not writing about Alexander Courage’s classic main theme for the original Star Trek show. I can add nothing further to that particular discussion and it remains iconic and inspiring, even when distilled down to just the initial fanfare. In this post I want to draw your attention to another piece of music from Star Trek that has permeated its way into popular culture. A cue that when heard, if the listener is familiar with its provenance, will instantly conjure up images of flying drop kicks, ear claps and judo chops. A piece of music that can be added to pretty much any video footage and instantly make it more heroic. Yes, I am talking about what has become generically known as Star Trek “fight music”. Or more specifically, the "The Ancient Battle/2nd Kroykah" cue from Amok Time (S02E01) composed by Gerald Fried. The scene during the koon-ut-kal-if-fee ritual in which Spock fights Kirk on the planet Vulcan for complicated “reasons”.
Classical music has often been used to great effect in cinema since the advent of sound. It has certain advantages over bespoke compositions, in that it can imbue a scene with a sense of gravitas and emotionally connect with viewers who may already be familiar with the piece being played. Legendary director Stanley Kubrick famously rejected Alex North’s score for 2001: A space Odyssey after finding the classical tracks he used for the temporary soundtrack complement the visuals perfectly. Over the years, some particular pieces of classical music have proven to be very popular and flexible, thus appearing in a wide variety of films across multiple genres. Hence, I have chosen two well known tracks that demonstrate this. I would also like to highlight contemporary classical music and have also selected one example that I feel demonstrates how the genre sublimely compliments cinema.
If you mention The Pink Panther (1963) I’d hazard a guess that most people will instantly think of Inspector Clouseau (and possibly throw in a quote in faux French about “Minkeys”) or hum or whistle the iconic theme tune. It’s blend of cool sixties Jazz and Lounge is both classy and evocative. Henry Mancini’s contribution to the Pink Panther franchise is commensurate to that of Peter Sellers and Blake Edwards. If you removed his musical scores from any of the films they would be greatly diminished. In fact one can argue that the movies made in the eighties after Sellers’ death are greatly bolstered by Mancini’s intelligent and accomplished musical accompaniment. The franchise may have run out of steam but Mancini never did so.
Back in August 2018, I posted seven of my favourite tracks from various video games that I’ve played over the years. I thought recently that it was high time that I did the same again. So here are a further five musical cues that I especially enjoy. All of which contribute greatly to the respective games that they feature in. Unlike film composers, musicians that write for video games do not always enjoy comparable exposure or attention. Yet often they have a more complex remit, having to write material for dozens of hours of content, rather than just two or three. Furthermore, the complete soundtrack to many video games often remain conspicuously absent, with fans having to data mine the game client to find the tracks that they love. Which is why it is important for those that enjoy video game music to show their support. Perhaps then more publishers will release full and comprehensive game soundtracks for digital download.
It was Friday the 13th yesterday, so I thought it was about time that I added Harry Manfredini’s iconic score to the annals of Classic Movie Themes. The 1980 slasher movie Friday the 13th has become as legendary in the pantheon of cinematic horror history as John Carpenter’s Halloween. Although there are marked differences between these two films, both use minimalist musical scores extremely effectively to punctuate the proceedings and embellish the overall atmosphere. However, Manfedini did not want to provide viewers with obvious audio cues during scenes of building tension. He preferred to focus his score upon the activities of the franchise's iconic killer, Jason Voorhees, and hence have strong musical cues when he was on screen. This approach meant that he had to use a unique musical motif to denote potential tension, without diminishing its effect on the audience by excessive use of obvious and melodramatic cues.
Game of Death was Bruce Lee’s fourth Hong Kong martial arts movie. Due to the success of his previous films he found himself in a position where he could finally write and direct a project himself. Filmed in late 1972 and early 1973, the film was put on hold midway through production when Hollywood offered him a starring role in Enter the Dragon. He died shortly after completing the US backed movie that made him an international star, so Game of Death remained unfinished. Several years later the rights to the raw footage were sold and recycled for a new movie, that kept the name but bore little resemblance to Lee’s original vision. For most of Game of Death, Kim Tai-jong and Yuen Biao double for Bruce Lee and it is only in the final act that audiences actually get to see about 12 minutes of material that he shot himself. The 1978 release of Game of Death, directed by Robert Clouse, is a mess but remains a cinematic curiosity. The scenes which genuinely feature Bruce Lee are outstanding, even in an abridged form.
The Long Good Friday not only launched then career of Bob Hoskins but remains a uniquely British take on the gangster genre. Featuring authentic performances and a credible plot, the screenplay touches upon many of the social and political issues of the time; police corruption, the IRA, urban renewal and the decline of industry, along with EEC membership and the free-market economy. It’s a gritty and unrelenting drama that is still relevant today. Furthermore, the film is filled with quotable dialogue and has several stand out scenes that showcase Bob Hoskins’ smouldering performance. It’s also offers of “who’s who” of British character actors and there is one sequence still has the power to shock even today.
A few years ago, I wrote a post about cult movie soundtracks and how many of these movies are often blessed with a high quality score from an established composer. The subject came up again recently when I was visiting the British Film Institute with friends, and several other examples were discussed. Hence, I thought it would be prudent to write a follow up post with another selection of material, as it continues to amaze me how often the most appalling films can still have outstanding soundtracks. With this idea in mind I've collated five films that are for various reasons are labelled “cult” and have suffered the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” over the years. All have scores of interests and note, though for different reasons. I have chosen a track from each soundtrack which I think highlights the musical excellence and integrity of the composers involved. The genres are varied as are the musical styles and nuances of each piece. All clearly demonstrate how a well-conceived score can embellish and enhance a movie, effectively becoming a character in its own right.
Lords of the Fallen is an action role-playing game from 2014, played from a third-person perspective. It is broadly in the same idiom to Darksiders and Dark Souls with the emphasis on complex and challenging combat. And it is for that reason that I didn’t get on with this title when I bought it in a Steam sale a few years ago. I felt that the long, protracted fights were an impediment to the narrative, which I quite enjoyed. However, the game was designed this way to appeal to the combat focused gamer and “git gud” culture. But I think that it’s important to try different genres of games from time to time and to step occasionally out of your comfort zone. I would cite the Hand of Fate series as a positive example of this. Both of those titles are from a genre I wouldn’t usually consider and playing them turned out to be a very positive experience
Alien is a unique genre milestone. It challenged the established aesthetic created by 2001: A Space Odyssey of space travel being pristine, clinical and high tech and replaced it with a grimy, industrial quality. The space tug Nostromo is also a conspicuously “blue collar”, civilian venture, underwritten by a large corporation. As for H. R Giger’s xenomorph, it redefined the depiction of extraterrestrial life in movies. Director Ridley Scott brought visual style and atmosphere to particularly unglamorous and dismal setting. He also scared the hell out of audiences at the time with his slow burn story structure and editing style that hints, rather than shows. Overall, Alien is a text book example of how to make a horror movie and put a new spin on a classic and well-trodden concept.
James Horner was a prolific, yet consistently good composer with a broad range of styles. Consider his score for 48 Hrs with its Jazz under currents and then compare it to his grand swashbuckling approach to Krull. They are radically different soundtracks, but both are extremely effective in embellishing their respective motion pictures. That was James Horner great talent. He knew when to be theatrical and bombastic but could also dial it back and be subtle, gentle and delicate. It made his body of work very diverse and memorable.
James Horner, although possessing a very broad and eclectic musical range, was in many respects a very traditional composer. He was certainly au fait with works of such giants as Miklós Rózsa, Korngold and Bernard Herrmann and it often manifested itself in his music through his use of the leitmotif. Perhaps the reason James Horner was so consistently good and crafted so many outstanding pieces of music, is because he never saw his profession as just a means to an end. As he said in an interview once, “I don’t look at this as just a job. I see music as art”.
Star Trek: Enterprise was the first show in the Star Trek pantheon to have a song performed by an established artist play over the opening credits, rather than a traditional theme tune. Up until 2001, the franchise had maintained a more formal approach, established with the iconic introduction to the original series composed by Alexander Courage. Needless to say, such a radical departure from established practise brought about consternation and debate among fans. In some respects, you can argue that point about the entire show itself, but that as they say, is an entirely different blog post. Needless to say, the dislike and hatred that the song Where My Heart Will Take Me engendered in certain quarters, lead to a petition to have it removed. Needless to say, this movement failed, and the show continued using it for four seasons. Seventeen years on this particular debacle has now died down and the song is often just referenced ironically by fans as an amusing anecdote and piece of Trek trivia.
According to Wikipedia “Hawk the Slayer is a 1980 British sword and sorcery adventure film directed by Terry Marcel and starring John Terry and Jack Palance. The film has developed a cult following”. That doesn’t do the movie justice by any reckoning. Hawk the Slayer is a quirky, low budget, high camp fantasy movie that compensates for its budgetary shortcoming by being so preposterously silly. It is loaded with hard boiled, fantasy steeped dialogue that parodies well known genre tropes. It treads a fine line between utter bilge and stupid fun. It is very much a product of its time and is also filled with British character actors. Some viewers will see nothing more than a cheap and cheerful cash-in on the eighties Sword and Sorcery boom. Others will delight at this inventive, stylised and silly fantasy orientated outing. Such is the nature of cult movies.
Film producer Julian Blaustein had a long-standing desire to make a film that addressed the fears and concerns of the post war Atomic Age. With the backing from Fox Studio Executive Darryl F. Zanuck, he hired screenwriter Edmund North to adapt the short story Farewell to the Master by Harry Bates. The screenplay provided a moral commentary about the ongoing arms race and featured an alien visitor with Christ like qualities who delivers an apocalyptic message. Veteran director Robert Wise was brought in head the project and a fine cast of established characters actors such as Michael Rennie, Patricia Neal Hugh Marlowe and Sam Jaffe was assembled. The finished movie has proven to be one of the greatest science fiction movies ever; it is The Day the Earth Stood Still made in 1951.
King Solomon’s Mines is a 1985 Cannon Films production based on the pulp works of H. Rider Haggard. It was quickly made to cash in on the ongoing success of Indiana Jones franchise, although the finished movie bears little resemblance to the classic original novel. Like most Cannon movies from that boom era, it was a cheap and fast enterprise that superficially sported a good cast, but ultimately didn’t do much with them. Veteran director J. Lee Thompson favoured a light and comic approach to the material, as the film’s budget could hardly sustain any major notable set pieces. Yet, it proved popular enough at the box office to warrant a sequel the following year. Allan Quatermain and the Lost City of Gold proved to be as equally silly but by then the public’s interest had waned.
A ten months ago, I wrote about the LOTRO soundtrack and listed some of my favourite tracks. This time round rather than just limit myself to music from one game, I thought it may be more interesting to broaden the remit. So, I have decided to upload seven of my favourite tracks and music cues from various games I have played over the last two decades. As with cinema, the soundtrack of a game plays a very important role. It can make a substantial impact on the players perceptions and enjoyment. The following tracks are examples that I feel have greatly enhanced a game. They’re also ones that I find particularly enjoyable. They are not in any order of preference.
Paul Verhoeven has seldom made a movie without some semblance of controversy associated with it, and his 1992 neo-noir Basic Instinct was no different. Even before its US release, Basic Instinct courted controversy due over its overt sexuality and graphic depiction of violence. It was strongly opposed by gay rights activists, who criticised the film's depiction of homosexual relationships and the portrayal of a bisexual woman as a homocidal narcissistic psychopath. The opening murder with an icepick is still shocking twenty six years later and is an excellent showcase for makeup FX artists Rob Bottin.
You can write pages on Gerry Anderson's 1968 Supermarionation series Joe 90. There's the morally ambiguous premise of giving an emotionally immature nine-year-old the experiences of an adult. Then the psychological effects of allowing him to kill at will. Then there's the perennial issue of scientists prostituting their skills to the intelligence community. One can also reflect upon the absence of any major female characters in the series and how that may impact upon Joe himself. Finally, when one finally arrives she's a gold-digging bitch who tries to exploit Joe’s Dad, Professor McClaine. Joe 90 is certainly a psychiatrist’s dream subject.
Despite the popularity of the TV show in 1965, the two spinoff Thunderbirds feature films were both box offices failures. This has often been attributed to the indifferently written screenplays that seem to have completely missed the sense of suspense that the fifty-minute episodes achieved. Both feature films feel rather slow and like extended episodes rather than big budget extravaganzas. They fail to do anything different with established characters and apart from showcasing more extensive miniature effects in a widescreen format, don’t really have much more to offer. It’s curious that the winning, character driven formula that worked on television was overlooked for these big screen outings.
I grew up during the seventies when network TV shows still put a lot of thought and effort into such things as their theme tune. It was a decade littered with memorable tracks that captured the essence of the shows they came from. Many have now become integral aspects of popular culture, leading to countless internet memes as well as becoming the ringtones of choice for many a fortysomething. However, things are very different now. You can have a staggeringly good theme for your show, but it can't possibly be longer than thirty seconds. And don’t think for a moment that viewers can listen to it again at the end, as it has now become standard practice to compress the credits into a third of the TV screen and preview what's coming next, while some link announcer spouts inanities. Mercifully, cable and streaming companies tend to treat their TV shows with greater respect. The lack of commercial advertising ensures a longer program duration and hence more focus on a theme tune. However, network TV still commands big audiences, yet hasn’t in recent years produced any TV show themes of note.
Spooks: The Greater Good (2015)
I'm not the first to say it but there is a distinct John Buchanesque streak running through Spooks: The Greater Good. Despite all the high-tech trappings we have grown accustomed to in modern day thrillers, this is still at its heart a “hero on the run” movie with sinister unseen forces hot in pursuit. This modest production never feels cheap, although it does lack a degree of polish and panache that we see in its contemporary. Yet it's sub John le Carré narrative provides a pleasant counterbalance to the budget action set pieces.
I'm not the first to say it but there is a distinct John Buchanesque streak running through Spooks: The Greater Good. Despite all the high-tech trappings we have grown accustomed to in modern day thrillers, this is still at its heart a “hero on the run” movie with sinister unseen forces hot in pursuit. This modest production never feels cheap, although it does lack a degree of polish and panache that we see in its contemporary. Yet it's sub John le Carré narrative provides a pleasant counterbalance to the budget action set pieces.
Director, Bharat Nalluri, shows off the London locations extremely well with scenes set in such locations as Heathrow, Waterloo Bridge, the West End and the ubiquitous Whitehall. There are plenty of sweeping panoramic shots of the city, highlighting the sharp contrast between old and new architecture. This plays well into the unfolding storyline which pits the old guard of the intelligence service against those forces that seek a different role within the modern world. These may not be the most original of themes but they play out well within the context of this franchise.
Kit Harington plays Will Holloway, a former operative who left the services under dubious circumstances. When a high-value terrorist, Qasim (Elyes Gabel) escapes custody during a routine handover, Will must team with disgraced MI5 Intelligence Chief Harry Pearce (Peter Firth) to track him down before an imminent terrorist attack on London. Pearce hints that all is not be as it may seem and that the entire situation may be subject to external manipulation. A stream of double crosses soon implies that Pearce is indeed right.
What surprised me the most about Spooks: The Greater Good was the producers decision not to pander to the mainstream and create yet more generic PG-13 rated action fodder. Spooks: The Greater Good has some tightly edited action sequences, complete with bullet hits and bloodshed. It may not be a return to the gritty era of The 3 Days of the Condor but it's a lot more satisfying than the sanitised content that passes for the Thriller genre these days. Then again Spooks (AKA MI-5) the TV show was not known for being tame. The Deep Fat Fryer incident from the original series still looms large in fans memories.
As with most quality spy films, the ambiguity of the government forces and the undercurrent of constant duplicity that makes the story engaging. It is pleasing to see Peter Firth, who appeared in every episode of the series, return as spy master Sir Harry Pearce, who suspects that British intelligence may well have gone rogue. He has always been the most compelling asset of the original franchise. Spooks: The Greater Good may not be a A-list movie but is far from disappointment. It entertains, without re-inventing the wheel and provides an acceptable appendix to the original show. I can think of worse legacies to leave.
Mainstream films are easy to recommend to people. They’re usually formulaic, work within clear parameters and they’re not controversial. Most people, when viewing such film on someone else’s suggestion, are left with a fairly simply choice. Did they like it or not? Whatever the outcome, no feathers are ruffled. No one looks at you askance afterwards and says “why the hell did you think I’d like that piece of shit”? If something like this happens, then you have clearly not recommended a mainstream film. Perhaps you’ve suggested something that’s a little more of an acquired taste. Something niche, from a very specific sub-genre. Which brings me neatly to Blazing Magnum AKA Strange Shadows in an Empty Room (1976). The US title gives the impression that this film is a hard boiled cop thriller, like so many others that followed in the wake of Dirty Harry. But there’s a clue in the European title. Yes, this movie has more than just a whiff of a giallo about it.
In the year 1860, Baron Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) faces execution by guillotine for the murders perpetrated by the creature he created. With the assistance of a hunchback named Karl (Oscar Quitak) he avoids death by beheading the priest who came to give him the last rites. The priest’s body is then mistakenly buried by the authorities. Three years later, Victor, now using the name Doctor Stein, has established himself as a prosperous physician in Karlsbrück, serving both affluent patients and the poor at a paupers’ hospital. Hans Kleve (Francis Matthews), a junior member of the medical council, recognises Victor and being an admirer, seeks to become his apprentice. Victor and Hans then undertake an experiment to transplant Karl’s living brain into a new, more refined body, rather than a grotesque monstrosity the Baron has previously made. Karl is eager to have a new healthy body, especially after encountering Margaret Conrad (Eunice Gayson), the charming new assistant at the hospital.
This movie questionnaire was originally created by Alexander from Cinemaniac Reviews. Sadly, I believe that website is now defunct. However, that doesn’t in anyway invalidate the questionnaire itself which has some very good questions about your relationship with cinema. Some of my answers to the questions posed are about films that I enjoy, as opposed to those that are considered cinematic classics. However, I have answered some questions more seriously than others, especially the one about undeserving recipients of the Best Film Oscar. I struggled with a couple of questions because I no longer go the cinema as frequently as I did 10 years ago. This is mainly due to the fact that a lot of the films I find interesting end up going straight to streaming after very brief theatrical releases. Some do not even get shown in cinemas. Hence I view far more at home. But I digress. On with the questions and answers. Feel free to comment below and share your views.
Exit 8 is a sophisticated and claustrophobic psychological thriller directed by Genki Kawamura, which skilfully transforms a minimalist indie walking-simulator game into a cinematic existential enigma. This overtly metaphorical film renders the repetitive nature and drudgery of modern working life into a physical environment in which the lead character is trapped and must find a way out. A random, brutal maze filled with an atmosphere of indifference to the lab rats that find themselves trapped within. Or is it their personal guilt that has put them there? Genki Kawamura’s psychological mystery draws inspiration from the Japanese video game of the same name, as well as from the cyclical nature of Groundhog Day and endless corridors of the Overlook Hotel in Kubrick’s The Shining. Although there are jump scares and some ghoulish imagery, this is not a horror vehicle. Instead this is a disquieting psychological drama with a strong sense of morality.
I wrote a post 18 month’s ago regarding whether a directors cut of a film is superior by default to the version originally shown in cinemas. Obviously the answer was no and I then went on to give three examples of films where I think the theatrical release is better to lengthier or substantially altered director’s cut that was subsequently made available at a later date. This time round in this post, I would like to do the complete opposite. I shall provide some examples of films that I think are significantly improved by a longer cut or a substantially, restructured edit. Note some of these examples are technically not a “director’s cuts” but a restoration or reconstruction of the director’s original vision. I shall endeavour to highlight what specific material or broader changes make each respective film “better”. As ever, all of these examples are a matter of subjective opinion and my views are presented as such, not “fact”.
In 1968 the dilapidated freighter Corita hastily leaves Freetown to avoid a customs inspection. Captain Lansen (Eric Porter) has a cargo of dangerous explosives which he is smuggling so he can finally retire. His ship’s passengers also have reasons for leaving in a hurry. Dr. Webster (Nigel Stock), together with his daughter Unity (Suzanna leigh), is relocating due to his indiscretions with patients and illegal operations. Alcoholic pianist Harry Tyler (Tony Beckley) is aimlessly drifting from port to port. Eva Peters (Hildegard Knef) is fleeing from her husband with stolen bearer bonds which she intend to use to buy back her son from his evil clutches Caracas. Ricaldi (Ben Carruthers), a questionable lawyer, is pursuing Eva to retrieve the stolen bonds. First officer Hemmings (Neil McCallum) suggests that the ship should return to Freetown after an imminent Hurricane warning. The Captain asks the passengers and they are unanimous that they do not wish to return. However a mutinous crew, the bad weather and the instability of the explosives force everyone to abandon ship. The survivors find themselves adrift in a lifeboat surrounded by a strange carnivorous seaweed.
Jason Statham is an exemplar of the US mantra of “staying in your lane”. He makes action movies and occasionally strays into action comedies. His formula broadly works and is sufficiently lucrative to keep Mr. Statham employed. Therefore, if you watch a film in which he stars, you have a fairly good idea of what you’ll be getting. Of late, the criteria for his action vehicles have become more succinct. Jason Statham will play an innocuous character, such as a construction foreman or a bee keeper. Something terrible will subsequently befall another character who Mr. Statham has an emotional connection with in some capacity. He will subsequently hunt down those responsible and meet out death and violence. At some point the villain of the story will enquire as to how this innocuous person is so lethal. Research will then show that our Jason is in fact an ex-police officer/special forces operative/international assassin. There’s then a showdown and the villain dies. Job done.
The Light at the Edge of the World presented itself as an action movie upon its release in 1971. Based upon a story by Jules Verne, the Spanish American co-production was driven by its star Kirk Douglas, who curiously hired British director Kevin Billington to helm the project. This tale of a lighthouse keeper fighting a war of attrition against a group of pirates that have captured his island, was market as an adventure film ostensibly in the idiom of the authors previous works and as a pirate movie. MGM bought the rights to distribute the film in the UK on the misunderstanding that it was a family friendly production. It was not and remains so. They subsequently had to cut 15 minutes of violence and torture as well as an undercurrent of sexual assault to secure a suitable rating. Conversely, the US distributors received an arbitrary PG rating, despite the fact this is one of a handful of films that honestly depicts pirates as murderers, rapists and worse.
It’s an established action film trope. The fire team comprised of ex-military personnel, move in on their target. Only to have the tables turned by someone they don’t deem a threat. What makes it different in The Last Stand of Ellen Cole is a throwaway line of dialogue. The bested operative lies bleeding on the floor and the protagonists stands over them ready to finish them off. “Don’t, I have a cat” they feebly plead. For me that was the icing on the cake. The movie had already established it was taking the “same old, same old” and doing something different. Something fun, if taken in the right spirit. This scene tipped the balance and I embraced this film because it was being honest about what it is. This is a modern B movie that decides to give a very specific sub-genre a makeover. Furthermore, its clearly done with an affectionate wink, which is very different to sly wink. This isn’t deliberate self-knowing irony. Its just a film doing something different and possibly silly but it genuinely wants to have fun with it.
David Koepp is no stranger to genre cinema, having written the screenplay for such films as Jurassic Park, Spider-man and War of the Worlds. Where these titles are big budget, major studio productions, Cold Storage is a far more modest production with a smaller scope. Adapted from his own novel, the screenplay is by David Koepp and the film is directed by British film-maker Jonny Campbell. At first glance, Cold Storage seems a somewhat derivative science fiction horror film with a relatively modest budget, financed through a convoluted US and French co-production. Lurid green and red colours feature heavily in the marketing artwork and it is easy, after a cursory look, to write the film off as cheap, generic, direct-to-streaming filler. However, Cold Storage is prime example of why you should not judge a book by it’s cover, or in this case, a film by its posters and online advertising. It is in fact an amusing and fun endeavour that can fill an evening.
Despite being considered by many as an original story, The Abominable Snowman (1957) is in fact a remake of a made for television play, The Creature, that was originally broadcast in the UK in 1955. Hammer Films would often purchase the rights of popular TV programs and subsequently re-work them for mainstream, international cinema. Larger production budgets and fewer censorship restrictions allowed them to make their cinematic interpretations more lurid, thus commercially viable. Hence The Quatermass Xperiment, Quatermass II and Quatermass and the Pit were all given a big screen makeover and were commercially successful. The Abominable Snowman was written by acclaimed writer Nigel Kneale, who also wrote the original television drama and the aforementioned Quatermass trilogy. Although ostensibly marketed as a horror film this production is actually an interesting blend of psychological thriller and science fiction.
There are certain subjects that are notoriously uncinematic. These tend to be things that exist or are undertaken mainly in the mind, rather than expressed in an overtly physical way. Computing, science and mathematics are good examples. Writing code or working out complex equations does not immediately lend themselves to a visual medium such as cinema. Therefore, any film dealing with the world of corporate finance has its work cut out. Hence writer-director J C Chandor immediately deserves praise for making Margin Call, a film about the financial crash of 2008, as gripping and compelling as any political thriller. He does this by keeping the financial elements of the story to a minimum, choosing instead to focus upon those who have become aware of the imminent crisis and their reaction to it. However, the film remains a tough watch with regard to the some of the characters and their respective personal morality or lack there of.
The 1937 Hindenburg disaster has remained an enduring mystery over the years. The physical mechanics of how this airship filled with 7,000,000 cubic feet of hydrogen gas caught fire has been fully explored over the decades and there are now several extremely plausible theories as to how it may have happened. However, there remains the possibility of sabotage. As such an idea has more dramatic potential than mechanical failure, it was used as the central theme of the 1975 disaster movie The Hindenburg. Directed by Robert Wise, the screenplay by Nelson Gidding explores a German resistance against the Nazi regime. The airship is targeted as it is a powerful propaganda symbol for Hitler’s Germany. Sadly despite some interesting ideas, a strong cast and solid, old school optical effects, The Hindenburg is a slow and somewhat ponderous production. Although the final 20 minutes of the film recreate the infamous explosion meticulously, it doesn’t quite compensate for the uneventful, dialogue driven investigation of the previous 100 minutes.
On the Eastern Front in 1943, a German Tiger tank crew led by Lieutenant Philip Gerkens (David Schütter) is sent on a mission to rescue the missing officer Paul von Hardenburg (Tilman Strauss) from a top-secret bunker that is at risk of falling into enemy hands. As they make their way through an eerie no-man’s land, they have to avoid Russian armoured vehicles that seem to be aware of their mission. They also encounter a German unit taking punitive action against a peasant village, in reprisal for partisan activity in the area. The youngest crew member, Michel (Yoran Leicher), talks of the land being home to ghosts and spirits. As the tank penetrates further into contested territory the crew become increasingly disturbed by the uncanny nature of their mission and begin to fall prey to their own inner fears.
Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic novel has been adapted for cinema and television numerous times. Perhaps the most well known is the 1950 Disney version, starring Robert Newton as Long John Silver. His eye rolling performance and exaggerated West Country accent is credited with popularising the stereotypical form of “pirate speech" that has become the pop culture default. Although an enjoyable film, it does gloss over the more sinister aspects of both the source text and history, perpetuating the myth that pirates are just loveable scoundrels. Many subsequent adaptations have fallen into the same trap to a greater or lesser degree. However, that is not the case with the 1990 version of Treasure island, which was made for the TNT cable network and released theatrically outside of the US. This darker and notably more violent adaptation closely follows the source text and is widely considered the most faithful to the book.
The Planet of the Apes movie franchise took a radical change of course with its third entry in the series. The first two films were set in the future and benefited from high production values to help realise a post apocalyptic earth. However, due to a substantial reduction of budget, Escape from the Planet of the Apes uses a time travel plot device to bring the ape protagonists to present day Los Angeles (1971 in this case). The result is a film with a much smaller narrative scope. However, although it lacks the science fiction spectacle of its predecessors, it features an interesting satirical exploration of celebrity culture and ponders what it is like to be deemed an enemy of the state. As ever, Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter provide exceptional lead performances as the Chimpanzees Cornelius and Zira. Escape from the Planet of the Apes also captures the pop culture vibe of seventies America.
It is not unusual for Disney to change film titles when marketing them outside of the US. In 2016 they renamed the animated feature film Zootopia to Zootropolis in the UK and Europe to avoid trademark conflicts with other existing businesses. For example there is a Danish zoo which already holds the “Zootopia” name. Similarly, in Germany there is a children’s book which caused copyright conflict, which led to the film being released under the title Zoomania. Such changes, although practical for legal reasons, can sometimes cause a degree of confusion. Especially as there are numerous, low budget productions companies that go out of their way to produce similarly titled “mockbusters” whenever there are big, tentpole, releases. So for clarity, Zootopia 2 has been released in the UK as Zootropolis 2.
Stephen King’s dystopian story, The Running Man, was previously adapted very loosely in 1987, as a vehicle for Arnold Schwarzenegger. That version focused mainly on the “Battle Royale” element of the story and leaned heavily into Arnie’s personality, rather than the politics of the book. It also wasn’t well received by the author. Edgar Wright’s remake follows the source text a lot more closely and is far more interested in its political themes and wider social commentary. Furthermore, this version re-establishes the everyman quality of the hero of Ben Richards, rather than him being the muscle bound, ex-military hero as per Mr. Schwarzenegger’s prior interpretation. This time round, The Running Man uses a lot of the visual and narrative tropes of contemporary reality TV, making this forty three year old story very relevant to today’s viewers and couching the film in a style that is recognisable and accessible.
The Haunted Dolls House is a short film based on a story by M.R. James about a unique antique that is subject to supernatural phenomenon. Adapted by Stephen Gray and David Lilley, this is the third of three short films based upon James’ work that the pair have made. It stars Steven Dolton as Mr. Dillet, a collector of antique dolls houses, who acquires a bargain only to discover that it harbours a ghostly secret. Made on an extremely modest budget over the course of 2012 this clever, innovative and rather sinister adaptation is a fine example of short film creativity. It manages to offer a unique visual depiction of M.R. James’ classic story whilst capturing the unsettling quality of the author’s work. Like so many independently made short films it is clearly a labour of love, made with modest resources. It succinctly captures the spirit of the author’s work and is both innovative and rewarding.
A lot of people may know Luke Evans from the live action version of Beauty and the Beast or Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit trilogy. With his matinee idol good looks, charming Welsh demeanour and his “smoky” tenor singing voice, he projects a sense of old school stardom. Which brings us to No One Lives; a film which is a radical departure from his previous work. His performance is disconcerting to say the least and the film is somewhat unhinged. Directed by Ryuhei Kitamura, who made an interesting adaptation of Clive Barker’s The Midnight Meat Train, this cinematic outing is similarly replete with robust shocks and gore. There are some interesting ideas about the nature of violence, Stockholm Syndrome and whether one should deny or embrace one’s nature. However, these are ultimately minor asides. Philosophical musings in between bouts of surprisingly striking unpleasantness.
In the near future, Kepler 822, a research and drilling facility located at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, suffers a sudden and catastrophic structural failure. There are only six survivors. Mechanical engineer Norah Price (Kristen Stewart), Captain Lucien (Vincent Cassel), biologist Emily Haversham (Jessica Henwick), engineer Liam Smith (John Gallagher Jr.) and crew members Rodrigo (Mamoudou Athie) and Paul (T.J. Miller). As all the functional escape pods have been used and they are unable to contact the surface, the Captain suggests using pressurized suits to walk one mile across the ocean floor to the Roebuck 641 drill installation. There they will find more escape pods. However, it soon becomes apparent that the disaster was not caused by an undersea earthquake and that they are not alone as they make their journey.
One of the most common objections raised regarding the Jurassic Park/Jurassic World franchise is that the films are specifically made to obtain a PG-13 rating from the Motion Picture Association, for purely commercial reasons. Hence, in all films, there is little on screen violence and the dinosaurs are mainly portrayed as a threat and a means of providing jump scares. When a character is killed by a dinosaur it usually happens off screen, is obscured by something else in frame, or is shown in long shot with very little detail. The realities of being eaten alive by a predator are conspicuously absent. Hence, audiences looking for films featuring more graphic dinosaur attacks, have not been well catered for apart from some minor direct-to-video titles. Primitive War finally fills this gap in the market with a frenetic genre mashup that strives to punch above is budgetary weight.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Valkyrie (2008)
In terms of its production values, Valkyrie is a throwback to the big budget war films of the sixties and seventies. However, that is where the similarities end. This is not a stylised action movie with the Nazis simply as a dramatic foil. Valkyrie focuses on facts, narrative and performances. Director Bryan Singer ensures that the true story that the film depicts is driven by the central characters. Overall Valkyrie is a very laudable production and although not an outstanding feature film, it is competently made, broadly historically accurate whilst and entertaining.
In terms of its production values, Valkyrie is a throwback to the big budget war films of the sixties and seventies. However, that is where the similarities end. This is not a stylised action movie with the Nazis simply as a dramatic foil. Valkyrie focuses on facts, narrative and performances. Director Bryan Singer ensures that the true story that the film depicts is driven by the central characters. Overall Valkyrie is a very laudable production and although not an outstanding feature film, it is competently made, broadly historically accurate whilst and entertaining.
The story manages to be genuinely suspenseful and conveys the magnitude of the plotter’s intentions. It efficiently follows the facts and is not side-tracked by superfluous sub plots or needless human drama. It clearly shows the real threat to families of the protagonists and conveys the paranoia of the German High command. Valkyrie assumes that the audience has an adequate knowledge of wartime events and does not make the mistake of trying to show why Hitler should be killed. Nor does it make the traditional Hollywood mistake of trying to render the complexities of wartime politics, down to “good Germans versus Bad Nazi”.
With regard to Tom Cruise, I’m not at all interested in his star status, his personal life or his religious beliefs. I have enjoyed his performances in several films in the past and he does not disappoint as Klaus von Stauffenberg. The rest of the ensemble cast works very well. Bill Nighy, Tom Wilkinson and the dignified Terence Stamp are all on top form, although a little underused. Eddie Izzard further demonstrates his acting talents. It should be noted that the mainly British cast do not attempt any stereotypical German accent but rather opt for neutral dialogue delivery.
Technically, the production design is accurate and authentic. The film manages to convey an atmosphere of a nation losing a war and an “ideology” that has become tarnished. The dilemma of whether to hedge your bets or endeavour to change an impossible situation, is explored efficiently and in a thought provoking way. Valkyrie remains as politically neutral as it can and strives to show career soldiers unhappy with the regime they see as betraying their country. They wish to prove that Germany and Hitler are not the same thing.
It is interesting to see a studio tackle a story that, despite its inherent drama, has an outcome that is a forgone conclusion. Like Ron Howard’s Apollo 13, the need to engage the audience with the fate of the characters is the key to the film’s success. I must admit that I was engrossed in Valkyrie and managed to disconnect my mind from the inevitable ending. However, due to the lack of historical knowledge among so many of today’s viewing public, perhaps this isn’t such an issue. May due to the march of time, the events depicted in Valkyrie may well have less impact. None the less Valkyrie is a competent and polished movie as well as a welcome change from standard multiplex fodder.
Mainstream films are easy to recommend to people. They’re usually formulaic, work within clear parameters and they’re not controversial. Most people, when viewing such film on someone else’s suggestion, are left with a fairly simply choice. Did they like it or not? Whatever the outcome, no feathers are ruffled. No one looks at you askance afterwards and says “why the hell did you think I’d like that piece of shit”? If something like this happens, then you have clearly not recommended a mainstream film. Perhaps you’ve suggested something that’s a little more of an acquired taste. Something niche, from a very specific sub-genre. Which brings me neatly to Blazing Magnum AKA Strange Shadows in an Empty Room (1976). The US title gives the impression that this film is a hard boiled cop thriller, like so many others that followed in the wake of Dirty Harry. But there’s a clue in the European title. Yes, this movie has more than just a whiff of a giallo about it.
In the year 1860, Baron Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) faces execution by guillotine for the murders perpetrated by the creature he created. With the assistance of a hunchback named Karl (Oscar Quitak) he avoids death by beheading the priest who came to give him the last rites. The priest’s body is then mistakenly buried by the authorities. Three years later, Victor, now using the name Doctor Stein, has established himself as a prosperous physician in Karlsbrück, serving both affluent patients and the poor at a paupers’ hospital. Hans Kleve (Francis Matthews), a junior member of the medical council, recognises Victor and being an admirer, seeks to become his apprentice. Victor and Hans then undertake an experiment to transplant Karl’s living brain into a new, more refined body, rather than a grotesque monstrosity the Baron has previously made. Karl is eager to have a new healthy body, especially after encountering Margaret Conrad (Eunice Gayson), the charming new assistant at the hospital.
This movie questionnaire was originally created by Alexander from Cinemaniac Reviews. Sadly, I believe that website is now defunct. However, that doesn’t in anyway invalidate the questionnaire itself which has some very good questions about your relationship with cinema. Some of my answers to the questions posed are about films that I enjoy, as opposed to those that are considered cinematic classics. However, I have answered some questions more seriously than others, especially the one about undeserving recipients of the Best Film Oscar. I struggled with a couple of questions because I no longer go the cinema as frequently as I did 10 years ago. This is mainly due to the fact that a lot of the films I find interesting end up going straight to streaming after very brief theatrical releases. Some do not even get shown in cinemas. Hence I view far more at home. But I digress. On with the questions and answers. Feel free to comment below and share your views.
Exit 8 is a sophisticated and claustrophobic psychological thriller directed by Genki Kawamura, which skilfully transforms a minimalist indie walking-simulator game into a cinematic existential enigma. This overtly metaphorical film renders the repetitive nature and drudgery of modern working life into a physical environment in which the lead character is trapped and must find a way out. A random, brutal maze filled with an atmosphere of indifference to the lab rats that find themselves trapped within. Or is it their personal guilt that has put them there? Genki Kawamura’s psychological mystery draws inspiration from the Japanese video game of the same name, as well as from the cyclical nature of Groundhog Day and endless corridors of the Overlook Hotel in Kubrick’s The Shining. Although there are jump scares and some ghoulish imagery, this is not a horror vehicle. Instead this is a disquieting psychological drama with a strong sense of morality.
I wrote a post 18 month’s ago regarding whether a directors cut of a film is superior by default to the version originally shown in cinemas. Obviously the answer was no and I then went on to give three examples of films where I think the theatrical release is better to lengthier or substantially altered director’s cut that was subsequently made available at a later date. This time round in this post, I would like to do the complete opposite. I shall provide some examples of films that I think are significantly improved by a longer cut or a substantially, restructured edit. Note some of these examples are technically not a “director’s cuts” but a restoration or reconstruction of the director’s original vision. I shall endeavour to highlight what specific material or broader changes make each respective film “better”. As ever, all of these examples are a matter of subjective opinion and my views are presented as such, not “fact”.
In 1968 the dilapidated freighter Corita hastily leaves Freetown to avoid a customs inspection. Captain Lansen (Eric Porter) has a cargo of dangerous explosives which he is smuggling so he can finally retire. His ship’s passengers also have reasons for leaving in a hurry. Dr. Webster (Nigel Stock), together with his daughter Unity (Suzanna leigh), is relocating due to his indiscretions with patients and illegal operations. Alcoholic pianist Harry Tyler (Tony Beckley) is aimlessly drifting from port to port. Eva Peters (Hildegard Knef) is fleeing from her husband with stolen bearer bonds which she intend to use to buy back her son from his evil clutches Caracas. Ricaldi (Ben Carruthers), a questionable lawyer, is pursuing Eva to retrieve the stolen bonds. First officer Hemmings (Neil McCallum) suggests that the ship should return to Freetown after an imminent Hurricane warning. The Captain asks the passengers and they are unanimous that they do not wish to return. However a mutinous crew, the bad weather and the instability of the explosives force everyone to abandon ship. The survivors find themselves adrift in a lifeboat surrounded by a strange carnivorous seaweed.
Jason Statham is an exemplar of the US mantra of “staying in your lane”. He makes action movies and occasionally strays into action comedies. His formula broadly works and is sufficiently lucrative to keep Mr. Statham employed. Therefore, if you watch a film in which he stars, you have a fairly good idea of what you’ll be getting. Of late, the criteria for his action vehicles have become more succinct. Jason Statham will play an innocuous character, such as a construction foreman or a bee keeper. Something terrible will subsequently befall another character who Mr. Statham has an emotional connection with in some capacity. He will subsequently hunt down those responsible and meet out death and violence. At some point the villain of the story will enquire as to how this innocuous person is so lethal. Research will then show that our Jason is in fact an ex-police officer/special forces operative/international assassin. There’s then a showdown and the villain dies. Job done.
The Light at the Edge of the World presented itself as an action movie upon its release in 1971. Based upon a story by Jules Verne, the Spanish American co-production was driven by its star Kirk Douglas, who curiously hired British director Kevin Billington to helm the project. This tale of a lighthouse keeper fighting a war of attrition against a group of pirates that have captured his island, was market as an adventure film ostensibly in the idiom of the authors previous works and as a pirate movie. MGM bought the rights to distribute the film in the UK on the misunderstanding that it was a family friendly production. It was not and remains so. They subsequently had to cut 15 minutes of violence and torture as well as an undercurrent of sexual assault to secure a suitable rating. Conversely, the US distributors received an arbitrary PG rating, despite the fact this is one of a handful of films that honestly depicts pirates as murderers, rapists and worse.
It’s an established action film trope. The fire team comprised of ex-military personnel, move in on their target. Only to have the tables turned by someone they don’t deem a threat. What makes it different in The Last Stand of Ellen Cole is a throwaway line of dialogue. The bested operative lies bleeding on the floor and the protagonists stands over them ready to finish them off. “Don’t, I have a cat” they feebly plead. For me that was the icing on the cake. The movie had already established it was taking the “same old, same old” and doing something different. Something fun, if taken in the right spirit. This scene tipped the balance and I embraced this film because it was being honest about what it is. This is a modern B movie that decides to give a very specific sub-genre a makeover. Furthermore, its clearly done with an affectionate wink, which is very different to sly wink. This isn’t deliberate self-knowing irony. Its just a film doing something different and possibly silly but it genuinely wants to have fun with it.
David Koepp is no stranger to genre cinema, having written the screenplay for such films as Jurassic Park, Spider-man and War of the Worlds. Where these titles are big budget, major studio productions, Cold Storage is a far more modest production with a smaller scope. Adapted from his own novel, the screenplay is by David Koepp and the film is directed by British film-maker Jonny Campbell. At first glance, Cold Storage seems a somewhat derivative science fiction horror film with a relatively modest budget, financed through a convoluted US and French co-production. Lurid green and red colours feature heavily in the marketing artwork and it is easy, after a cursory look, to write the film off as cheap, generic, direct-to-streaming filler. However, Cold Storage is prime example of why you should not judge a book by it’s cover, or in this case, a film by its posters and online advertising. It is in fact an amusing and fun endeavour that can fill an evening.
Despite being considered by many as an original story, The Abominable Snowman (1957) is in fact a remake of a made for television play, The Creature, that was originally broadcast in the UK in 1955. Hammer Films would often purchase the rights of popular TV programs and subsequently re-work them for mainstream, international cinema. Larger production budgets and fewer censorship restrictions allowed them to make their cinematic interpretations more lurid, thus commercially viable. Hence The Quatermass Xperiment, Quatermass II and Quatermass and the Pit were all given a big screen makeover and were commercially successful. The Abominable Snowman was written by acclaimed writer Nigel Kneale, who also wrote the original television drama and the aforementioned Quatermass trilogy. Although ostensibly marketed as a horror film this production is actually an interesting blend of psychological thriller and science fiction.
There are certain subjects that are notoriously uncinematic. These tend to be things that exist or are undertaken mainly in the mind, rather than expressed in an overtly physical way. Computing, science and mathematics are good examples. Writing code or working out complex equations does not immediately lend themselves to a visual medium such as cinema. Therefore, any film dealing with the world of corporate finance has its work cut out. Hence writer-director J C Chandor immediately deserves praise for making Margin Call, a film about the financial crash of 2008, as gripping and compelling as any political thriller. He does this by keeping the financial elements of the story to a minimum, choosing instead to focus upon those who have become aware of the imminent crisis and their reaction to it. However, the film remains a tough watch with regard to the some of the characters and their respective personal morality or lack there of.
The 1937 Hindenburg disaster has remained an enduring mystery over the years. The physical mechanics of how this airship filled with 7,000,000 cubic feet of hydrogen gas caught fire has been fully explored over the decades and there are now several extremely plausible theories as to how it may have happened. However, there remains the possibility of sabotage. As such an idea has more dramatic potential than mechanical failure, it was used as the central theme of the 1975 disaster movie The Hindenburg. Directed by Robert Wise, the screenplay by Nelson Gidding explores a German resistance against the Nazi regime. The airship is targeted as it is a powerful propaganda symbol for Hitler’s Germany. Sadly despite some interesting ideas, a strong cast and solid, old school optical effects, The Hindenburg is a slow and somewhat ponderous production. Although the final 20 minutes of the film recreate the infamous explosion meticulously, it doesn’t quite compensate for the uneventful, dialogue driven investigation of the previous 100 minutes.
On the Eastern Front in 1943, a German Tiger tank crew led by Lieutenant Philip Gerkens (David Schütter) is sent on a mission to rescue the missing officer Paul von Hardenburg (Tilman Strauss) from a top-secret bunker that is at risk of falling into enemy hands. As they make their way through an eerie no-man’s land, they have to avoid Russian armoured vehicles that seem to be aware of their mission. They also encounter a German unit taking punitive action against a peasant village, in reprisal for partisan activity in the area. The youngest crew member, Michel (Yoran Leicher), talks of the land being home to ghosts and spirits. As the tank penetrates further into contested territory the crew become increasingly disturbed by the uncanny nature of their mission and begin to fall prey to their own inner fears.
Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic novel has been adapted for cinema and television numerous times. Perhaps the most well known is the 1950 Disney version, starring Robert Newton as Long John Silver. His eye rolling performance and exaggerated West Country accent is credited with popularising the stereotypical form of “pirate speech" that has become the pop culture default. Although an enjoyable film, it does gloss over the more sinister aspects of both the source text and history, perpetuating the myth that pirates are just loveable scoundrels. Many subsequent adaptations have fallen into the same trap to a greater or lesser degree. However, that is not the case with the 1990 version of Treasure island, which was made for the TNT cable network and released theatrically outside of the US. This darker and notably more violent adaptation closely follows the source text and is widely considered the most faithful to the book.
The Planet of the Apes movie franchise took a radical change of course with its third entry in the series. The first two films were set in the future and benefited from high production values to help realise a post apocalyptic earth. However, due to a substantial reduction of budget, Escape from the Planet of the Apes uses a time travel plot device to bring the ape protagonists to present day Los Angeles (1971 in this case). The result is a film with a much smaller narrative scope. However, although it lacks the science fiction spectacle of its predecessors, it features an interesting satirical exploration of celebrity culture and ponders what it is like to be deemed an enemy of the state. As ever, Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter provide exceptional lead performances as the Chimpanzees Cornelius and Zira. Escape from the Planet of the Apes also captures the pop culture vibe of seventies America.
It is not unusual for Disney to change film titles when marketing them outside of the US. In 2016 they renamed the animated feature film Zootopia to Zootropolis in the UK and Europe to avoid trademark conflicts with other existing businesses. For example there is a Danish zoo which already holds the “Zootopia” name. Similarly, in Germany there is a children’s book which caused copyright conflict, which led to the film being released under the title Zoomania. Such changes, although practical for legal reasons, can sometimes cause a degree of confusion. Especially as there are numerous, low budget productions companies that go out of their way to produce similarly titled “mockbusters” whenever there are big, tentpole, releases. So for clarity, Zootopia 2 has been released in the UK as Zootropolis 2.
Stephen King’s dystopian story, The Running Man, was previously adapted very loosely in 1987, as a vehicle for Arnold Schwarzenegger. That version focused mainly on the “Battle Royale” element of the story and leaned heavily into Arnie’s personality, rather than the politics of the book. It also wasn’t well received by the author. Edgar Wright’s remake follows the source text a lot more closely and is far more interested in its political themes and wider social commentary. Furthermore, this version re-establishes the everyman quality of the hero of Ben Richards, rather than him being the muscle bound, ex-military hero as per Mr. Schwarzenegger’s prior interpretation. This time round, The Running Man uses a lot of the visual and narrative tropes of contemporary reality TV, making this forty three year old story very relevant to today’s viewers and couching the film in a style that is recognisable and accessible.
The Haunted Dolls House is a short film based on a story by M.R. James about a unique antique that is subject to supernatural phenomenon. Adapted by Stephen Gray and David Lilley, this is the third of three short films based upon James’ work that the pair have made. It stars Steven Dolton as Mr. Dillet, a collector of antique dolls houses, who acquires a bargain only to discover that it harbours a ghostly secret. Made on an extremely modest budget over the course of 2012 this clever, innovative and rather sinister adaptation is a fine example of short film creativity. It manages to offer a unique visual depiction of M.R. James’ classic story whilst capturing the unsettling quality of the author’s work. Like so many independently made short films it is clearly a labour of love, made with modest resources. It succinctly captures the spirit of the author’s work and is both innovative and rewarding.
A lot of people may know Luke Evans from the live action version of Beauty and the Beast or Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit trilogy. With his matinee idol good looks, charming Welsh demeanour and his “smoky” tenor singing voice, he projects a sense of old school stardom. Which brings us to No One Lives; a film which is a radical departure from his previous work. His performance is disconcerting to say the least and the film is somewhat unhinged. Directed by Ryuhei Kitamura, who made an interesting adaptation of Clive Barker’s The Midnight Meat Train, this cinematic outing is similarly replete with robust shocks and gore. There are some interesting ideas about the nature of violence, Stockholm Syndrome and whether one should deny or embrace one’s nature. However, these are ultimately minor asides. Philosophical musings in between bouts of surprisingly striking unpleasantness.
In the near future, Kepler 822, a research and drilling facility located at the bottom of the Mariana Trench, suffers a sudden and catastrophic structural failure. There are only six survivors. Mechanical engineer Norah Price (Kristen Stewart), Captain Lucien (Vincent Cassel), biologist Emily Haversham (Jessica Henwick), engineer Liam Smith (John Gallagher Jr.) and crew members Rodrigo (Mamoudou Athie) and Paul (T.J. Miller). As all the functional escape pods have been used and they are unable to contact the surface, the Captain suggests using pressurized suits to walk one mile across the ocean floor to the Roebuck 641 drill installation. There they will find more escape pods. However, it soon becomes apparent that the disaster was not caused by an undersea earthquake and that they are not alone as they make their journey.
One of the most common objections raised regarding the Jurassic Park/Jurassic World franchise is that the films are specifically made to obtain a PG-13 rating from the Motion Picture Association, for purely commercial reasons. Hence, in all films, there is little on screen violence and the dinosaurs are mainly portrayed as a threat and a means of providing jump scares. When a character is killed by a dinosaur it usually happens off screen, is obscured by something else in frame, or is shown in long shot with very little detail. The realities of being eaten alive by a predator are conspicuously absent. Hence, audiences looking for films featuring more graphic dinosaur attacks, have not been well catered for apart from some minor direct-to-video titles. Primitive War finally fills this gap in the market with a frenetic genre mashup that strives to punch above is budgetary weight.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
The Silmarillion Movie
When Peter Jackson finished filming The Hobbit trilogy, there was some idle speculation by fans as to the possibility of a movie adaptation of The Silmarillion. It was meant mainly as a talking point, rather than a serious proposition and there certainly was an enthusiastic response from some quarters. Three years on, the fantasy genre is still a commercially successful genre both at Cinemas and on TV. Furthermore, production studios are regularly looking to existing literary properties that they can convert into viable long term franchises. Bearing all this in mind, is it possible that Tolkien’s complex mythopoeic work could be adapted for either the big or little screen?
When Peter Jackson finished filming The Hobbit trilogy, there was some idle speculation by fans as to the possibility of a movie adaptation of The Silmarillion. It was meant mainly as a talking point, rather than a serious proposition and there certainly was an enthusiastic response from some quarters. Three years on, the fantasy genre is still a commercially successful genre both at Cinemas and on TV. Furthermore, production studios are regularly looking to existing literary properties that they can convert into viable long term franchises. Bearing all this in mind, is it possible that Tolkien’s complex mythopoeic work could be adapted for either the big or little screen?
Although it is theoretically possible to make either a movie of TV show from the source material, the likelihood of such a project coming to pass is very remote. Hollywood studios are very risk averse, especially towards material that cannot be easily defined and pitched at the broadest demographic. Even if The Silmarillion were to be championed by a major director, there is no guarantee that such a project would be immediately green lit. Hollywood heavy weights such as Steven Spielberg and Martin Scorsese have fallen foul of this policy recently. However, if a Silmarillion adaptation could secure financing, let us consider some of the other potential obstacles that would have to be addressed before the project could move forward.
First, there is the fundamental issue of the rights to The Silmarillion, which are not included in those currently held by Middle-earth Enterprises. I think the Tolkien estate would move heaven and earth to block such a project from progressing, as Christopher Tolkien has made his views very clear on the existing movie adaptations of his father's work. He abhors what he sees as the Disneyfication of the source material. Therefore, this is an issue that cannot be addressed during his lifetime. Whether the heirs to the estate would think differently remains to be seen.
Then there is the source text of The Silmarillion itself, which would be would be extremely difficult to adapt and market to a mainstream audience. It would require considerable restructuring and frankly a lot of dumbing down to make an accessible narrative. It is episodic by nature with an excess of characters and explores a great deal of abstract concepts. There are certainly passages of the text that would make epic set pieces but overall the narrative does not support the traditional three act story arc that cinema prefers.
This then raises the question, rather than a series of movies, would a high budget cable show such as Game of Thrones, be a more suitable medium to showcase The Silmarillion. Either way, a live action adaptation would require a prodigious budget. Considering the philosophical and theological elements to the text, perhaps live action is not the best approach to adapting the work. Would the medium of animation be more appropriate? By this I do not mean mainstream CGI but something more traditional such as cel animation or perhaps some experimental stop motion method?
Then there is the risk that any adaptation may be usurped and extrapolated into something very different from Tolkien’s vision. Tolkien was a devout Catholic although this is not immediately obvious in his works. He also deplored the use of allegory as a literary device. There is a chance that whoever adapts The Silmarillion could colour it with their own personal religious, moral and philosophical baggage and make it into something that it is not. I would hate to see something as cerebral as this book, distilled into a clumsy and misplaced metaphor to be championed by the wrong sort of Christian institutions. The Silmarillion deserves better than that.
If we still consider such a project in movie terms, then it would require director of immense cinematic skill and vision. Peter Jackson, although visually talented, is not the film maker he was a decade or two ago. He is too big a name, too commercial and now appears to exhibit a degree of self-indulgence that often comes when directors become celebrities. Personally, I think his better work is now behind him. A true visionary would be required for The Silmarillion movie but these are a scarce commodity these days. Kubrick, Kurosawa and their like are long dead, so who exactly does that leave? Guillermo del Toro, Bong Joon-ho or Alfonso Cuarón?
As you can see, these are just a few potential problems that would plague such a project. Furthermore, it can be cogently argued that just because you can do something, it doesn't mean that you should. The Silmarillion may well be unfilmable in any meaningful way and to attempt to do so may well be disrespectful to the source text. Unfortunately, film makers and especially their financiers seldom understand such concepts and often end up debasing great literary works in pursuit of the lowest common denominator and box office gold. The Silmarillion was intended by its author to be a book and nothing more. Does it really need to exist in any other way?
Classic Movie Themes: The Bride of Frankenstein
Franz Waxman's score for James Whale's The Bride of Frankenstein is as iconic as the movie itself. It has a weird and haunting quality to it with its three distinctive themes: one for the Monster; one for the Bride; and another for Pretorius. With only a modest twenty two piece orchestra , the score was recorded in a single nine hour session. Universal recycled many elements of the music in other productions over the years, most notably in Flash Gordon's Trip to Mars. This has led to it becoming an accepted part of popular culture and synonymous with spooky castles and baroque electrical equipment. It has aged remarkably well over the years and is still very evocative.
Franz Waxman's score for James Whale's The Bride of Frankenstein is as iconic as the movie itself. It has a weird and haunting quality to it with its three distinctive themes: one for the Monster; one for the Bride; and another for Pretorius. With only a modest twenty two piece orchestra , the score was recorded in a single nine hour session. Universal recycled many elements of the music in other productions over the years, most notably in Flash Gordon's Trip to Mars. This has led to it becoming an accepted part of popular culture and synonymous with spooky castles and baroque electrical equipment. It has aged remarkably well over the years and is still very evocative.
Filled with strange, sweeping yet disquieting melodies and unusual timbres, it was an extremely ambitious soundtrack for a movie at the time. Waxman's music for The Bride of Frankenstein provided the movie with the impact and sweep of a Wagnerian opera, although the finale recalls the Mahler "Symphony No. 2". The "crucifixion" of the monster, the homunculii of Doctor Pretorius and the "birth" of the Bride are magnificently embellished by the subtleties of the score. Seldom has a movie score been so integral to the overall success of the film. Franz Waxman's score remains the epitome of atmosphere and craftmanship.
The Planet of the Apes movie franchise took a radical change of course with its third entry in the series. The first two films were set in the future and benefited from high production values to help realise a post apocalyptic earth. However, due to a substantial reduction of budget, Escape from the Planet of the Apes uses a time travel plot device to bring the ape protagonists to present day Los Angeles (1971 in this case). The result is a film with a much smaller narrative scope. However, although it lacks the science fiction spectacle of its predecessors, it features an interesting satirical exploration of celebrity culture and ponders what it is like to be deemed an enemy of the state. As ever, Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter provide exceptional lead performances as the Chimpanzees Cornelius and Zira. Escape from the Planet of the Apes also captures the pop culture vibe of seventies America.
Ronald Erle Grainer (11 August 1922 – 21 February 1981) was a prolific Australian composer who is best remembered for his work in the United Kingdom during the sixties and seventies. He wrote numerous notable scores and theme music for several iconic television shows such as Doctor Who, Steptoe and Son and Tales of the Unexpected. He also composed the soundtrack for several major motion pictures such as Some People (1962), The Assassination Bureau (1969) and The Omega Man (1971). Grainer relocated to London from Australia in 1952 but it was not until 1960 that he gained critical success after writing the music for the popular TV show Maigret. He subsequently received an Ivor Novello award for “Outstanding Composition for Film, TV or Radio”.
The following is about a cultural change. That is not to say that it’s a value judgement or one of those posts you so frequently read by bloggers of a certain age, that essentially boil down to “things were better in my day”. It is merely an observation and like all observations it is not 100% universal. There will always be exceptions to the rule. I am simply painting with broad strokes a general truism for your consideration. My point being that people listen, experience and enjoy music differently these days compared to how they did three to four decades ago. I’m not talking about the science of hearing or anything complex like that. I am merely highlighting the change in the way we choose to experience music and how that has an impact upon its creation and presentation. So like Anne Elk, presenting her theory on the Brontosaurus, here is the axiom at the heart of this post.
Allonsanfàn (1974) is an Italian historical drama film written and directed by Paolo and Vittorio Taviani. The title of the film derives from the first words of the French Revolutionary anthem La Marseillaise (Allons enfants, IE “Arise, children”). It is also the name of a character in the story. Set against the backdrop of the Italian Unification in early 19th-century Italy, Marcello Mastroianni stars as an ageing revolutionary, Fulvio Imbriani, who becomes disillusioned after the Restoration and endeavours to betray his companions, who are organising an insurrection in Southern Italy. Allonsanfàn is a complex film that is not immediately accessible to those unfamiliar with the intricacies of Italian political history nor the arthouse style of the Taviani brothers. However, it is visually arresting and features a rousing score by Ennio Morricone.
Jerry Goldsmith’s contribution to Star Trek is immense. Yet simply listing the films and TV episodes he wrote music for does not adequately encapsulate the significance of his contribution to the franchise. His majestic, thoughtful and uplifting musical scores provide an emotional foundation that reflects the core ethos of Star Trek. They also create an invaluable sense of continuity that spans multiple shows and movies. Perhaps the most obvious example of this is his iconic title music for Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979) that was subsequently adopted as the theme tune for Star Trek: The Next Generation. His work was held in such high regard, when Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989) ran into production issues, it was thought that a Jerry Goldsmith soundtrack may well elevate the film. Sadly it didn’t but his work on that instalment was outstanding and among his best.
Halloween (1978) is both a genre and cinematic milestone. It made stars of Jamie Lee Curtis and director John Carpenter as well as kickstarting the slasher genre that dominated the box office for the next 15 years. Unlike many of the inferior imitations that followed in its wake, Halloween is not a gorefest but a far more suspenseful and unsettling film. It’s shocks and sinister atmosphere are the result of sumptuous panavision cinematography by Dean Cundey and inventive editing by Tommy Wallace and Charles Bornstein. Another invaluable asset to the film’s effectiveness is John Carpenter minimalistic synth and piano score which perfectly embellishes the film with an air of menace. After 33 years and various re-arrangements in subsequent sequels, the original Halloween Theme is still as effective today as it was when the film was first released.
Tenebrae (1982) is probably Dario Argento’s most accessible “giallo” for mainstream audiences. Although violent, it is not as narratively complex as Deep Red (1975) or as bat shit crazy as Phenomena (1985). The story centres on popular American novelist Peter Neal (Anthony Fanciosa) who is in Rome to promote his latest book. Events take a turn for the worst when a series of murders appear to have been inspired by his work. The plot twists and turns, the director explores themes such as dualism along with sexual aberration and blood is copiously spattered across the white walled interiors of modernist buildings. It is slick, disturbing and has a pounding synth and rock score by former Goblin members, Claudio Simonetti, Fabio Pignatelli, and Massimo Morante.
An American Werewolf in London is a genre milestone and one of the few horror films that successfully manages to balance humour and suspense without mitigating the overall tone of the story. 40 years on from its theatrical release it still holds up well with its bitter sweet love story, tragic themes and ground breaking transformation effects by Rick Baker. Director John Landis never really bettered this concise and effective genre outing. It hits the mark in virtually every part of the production. However, there is one aspect of the film that does suffer as a result of the director’s personal choices. Whether it is to the detriment of the overall film is debatable. The point in question is the film’s soundtrack and the director’s focus upon the song Blue Moon by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart.
Before we start, no I am not writing about Alexander Courage’s classic main theme for the original Star Trek show. I can add nothing further to that particular discussion and it remains iconic and inspiring, even when distilled down to just the initial fanfare. In this post I want to draw your attention to another piece of music from Star Trek that has permeated its way into popular culture. A cue that when heard, if the listener is familiar with its provenance, will instantly conjure up images of flying drop kicks, ear claps and judo chops. A piece of music that can be added to pretty much any video footage and instantly make it more heroic. Yes, I am talking about what has become generically known as Star Trek “fight music”. Or more specifically, the "The Ancient Battle/2nd Kroykah" cue from Amok Time (S02E01) composed by Gerald Fried. The scene during the koon-ut-kal-if-fee ritual in which Spock fights Kirk on the planet Vulcan for complicated “reasons”.
Classical music has often been used to great effect in cinema since the advent of sound. It has certain advantages over bespoke compositions, in that it can imbue a scene with a sense of gravitas and emotionally connect with viewers who may already be familiar with the piece being played. Legendary director Stanley Kubrick famously rejected Alex North’s score for 2001: A space Odyssey after finding the classical tracks he used for the temporary soundtrack complement the visuals perfectly. Over the years, some particular pieces of classical music have proven to be very popular and flexible, thus appearing in a wide variety of films across multiple genres. Hence, I have chosen two well known tracks that demonstrate this. I would also like to highlight contemporary classical music and have also selected one example that I feel demonstrates how the genre sublimely compliments cinema.
If you mention The Pink Panther (1963) I’d hazard a guess that most people will instantly think of Inspector Clouseau (and possibly throw in a quote in faux French about “Minkeys”) or hum or whistle the iconic theme tune. It’s blend of cool sixties Jazz and Lounge is both classy and evocative. Henry Mancini’s contribution to the Pink Panther franchise is commensurate to that of Peter Sellers and Blake Edwards. If you removed his musical scores from any of the films they would be greatly diminished. In fact one can argue that the movies made in the eighties after Sellers’ death are greatly bolstered by Mancini’s intelligent and accomplished musical accompaniment. The franchise may have run out of steam but Mancini never did so.
Back in August 2018, I posted seven of my favourite tracks from various video games that I’ve played over the years. I thought recently that it was high time that I did the same again. So here are a further five musical cues that I especially enjoy. All of which contribute greatly to the respective games that they feature in. Unlike film composers, musicians that write for video games do not always enjoy comparable exposure or attention. Yet often they have a more complex remit, having to write material for dozens of hours of content, rather than just two or three. Furthermore, the complete soundtrack to many video games often remain conspicuously absent, with fans having to data mine the game client to find the tracks that they love. Which is why it is important for those that enjoy video game music to show their support. Perhaps then more publishers will release full and comprehensive game soundtracks for digital download.
It was Friday the 13th yesterday, so I thought it was about time that I added Harry Manfredini’s iconic score to the annals of Classic Movie Themes. The 1980 slasher movie Friday the 13th has become as legendary in the pantheon of cinematic horror history as John Carpenter’s Halloween. Although there are marked differences between these two films, both use minimalist musical scores extremely effectively to punctuate the proceedings and embellish the overall atmosphere. However, Manfedini did not want to provide viewers with obvious audio cues during scenes of building tension. He preferred to focus his score upon the activities of the franchise's iconic killer, Jason Voorhees, and hence have strong musical cues when he was on screen. This approach meant that he had to use a unique musical motif to denote potential tension, without diminishing its effect on the audience by excessive use of obvious and melodramatic cues.
Game of Death was Bruce Lee’s fourth Hong Kong martial arts movie. Due to the success of his previous films he found himself in a position where he could finally write and direct a project himself. Filmed in late 1972 and early 1973, the film was put on hold midway through production when Hollywood offered him a starring role in Enter the Dragon. He died shortly after completing the US backed movie that made him an international star, so Game of Death remained unfinished. Several years later the rights to the raw footage were sold and recycled for a new movie, that kept the name but bore little resemblance to Lee’s original vision. For most of Game of Death, Kim Tai-jong and Yuen Biao double for Bruce Lee and it is only in the final act that audiences actually get to see about 12 minutes of material that he shot himself. The 1978 release of Game of Death, directed by Robert Clouse, is a mess but remains a cinematic curiosity. The scenes which genuinely feature Bruce Lee are outstanding, even in an abridged form.
The Long Good Friday not only launched then career of Bob Hoskins but remains a uniquely British take on the gangster genre. Featuring authentic performances and a credible plot, the screenplay touches upon many of the social and political issues of the time; police corruption, the IRA, urban renewal and the decline of industry, along with EEC membership and the free-market economy. It’s a gritty and unrelenting drama that is still relevant today. Furthermore, the film is filled with quotable dialogue and has several stand out scenes that showcase Bob Hoskins’ smouldering performance. It’s also offers of “who’s who” of British character actors and there is one sequence still has the power to shock even today.
A few years ago, I wrote a post about cult movie soundtracks and how many of these movies are often blessed with a high quality score from an established composer. The subject came up again recently when I was visiting the British Film Institute with friends, and several other examples were discussed. Hence, I thought it would be prudent to write a follow up post with another selection of material, as it continues to amaze me how often the most appalling films can still have outstanding soundtracks. With this idea in mind I've collated five films that are for various reasons are labelled “cult” and have suffered the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” over the years. All have scores of interests and note, though for different reasons. I have chosen a track from each soundtrack which I think highlights the musical excellence and integrity of the composers involved. The genres are varied as are the musical styles and nuances of each piece. All clearly demonstrate how a well-conceived score can embellish and enhance a movie, effectively becoming a character in its own right.
Lords of the Fallen is an action role-playing game from 2014, played from a third-person perspective. It is broadly in the same idiom to Darksiders and Dark Souls with the emphasis on complex and challenging combat. And it is for that reason that I didn’t get on with this title when I bought it in a Steam sale a few years ago. I felt that the long, protracted fights were an impediment to the narrative, which I quite enjoyed. However, the game was designed this way to appeal to the combat focused gamer and “git gud” culture. But I think that it’s important to try different genres of games from time to time and to step occasionally out of your comfort zone. I would cite the Hand of Fate series as a positive example of this. Both of those titles are from a genre I wouldn’t usually consider and playing them turned out to be a very positive experience
Alien is a unique genre milestone. It challenged the established aesthetic created by 2001: A Space Odyssey of space travel being pristine, clinical and high tech and replaced it with a grimy, industrial quality. The space tug Nostromo is also a conspicuously “blue collar”, civilian venture, underwritten by a large corporation. As for H. R Giger’s xenomorph, it redefined the depiction of extraterrestrial life in movies. Director Ridley Scott brought visual style and atmosphere to particularly unglamorous and dismal setting. He also scared the hell out of audiences at the time with his slow burn story structure and editing style that hints, rather than shows. Overall, Alien is a text book example of how to make a horror movie and put a new spin on a classic and well-trodden concept.
James Horner was a prolific, yet consistently good composer with a broad range of styles. Consider his score for 48 Hrs with its Jazz under currents and then compare it to his grand swashbuckling approach to Krull. They are radically different soundtracks, but both are extremely effective in embellishing their respective motion pictures. That was James Horner great talent. He knew when to be theatrical and bombastic but could also dial it back and be subtle, gentle and delicate. It made his body of work very diverse and memorable.
James Horner, although possessing a very broad and eclectic musical range, was in many respects a very traditional composer. He was certainly au fait with works of such giants as Miklós Rózsa, Korngold and Bernard Herrmann and it often manifested itself in his music through his use of the leitmotif. Perhaps the reason James Horner was so consistently good and crafted so many outstanding pieces of music, is because he never saw his profession as just a means to an end. As he said in an interview once, “I don’t look at this as just a job. I see music as art”.
Star Trek: Enterprise was the first show in the Star Trek pantheon to have a song performed by an established artist play over the opening credits, rather than a traditional theme tune. Up until 2001, the franchise had maintained a more formal approach, established with the iconic introduction to the original series composed by Alexander Courage. Needless to say, such a radical departure from established practise brought about consternation and debate among fans. In some respects, you can argue that point about the entire show itself, but that as they say, is an entirely different blog post. Needless to say, the dislike and hatred that the song Where My Heart Will Take Me engendered in certain quarters, lead to a petition to have it removed. Needless to say, this movement failed, and the show continued using it for four seasons. Seventeen years on this particular debacle has now died down and the song is often just referenced ironically by fans as an amusing anecdote and piece of Trek trivia.
According to Wikipedia “Hawk the Slayer is a 1980 British sword and sorcery adventure film directed by Terry Marcel and starring John Terry and Jack Palance. The film has developed a cult following”. That doesn’t do the movie justice by any reckoning. Hawk the Slayer is a quirky, low budget, high camp fantasy movie that compensates for its budgetary shortcoming by being so preposterously silly. It is loaded with hard boiled, fantasy steeped dialogue that parodies well known genre tropes. It treads a fine line between utter bilge and stupid fun. It is very much a product of its time and is also filled with British character actors. Some viewers will see nothing more than a cheap and cheerful cash-in on the eighties Sword and Sorcery boom. Others will delight at this inventive, stylised and silly fantasy orientated outing. Such is the nature of cult movies.
Film producer Julian Blaustein had a long-standing desire to make a film that addressed the fears and concerns of the post war Atomic Age. With the backing from Fox Studio Executive Darryl F. Zanuck, he hired screenwriter Edmund North to adapt the short story Farewell to the Master by Harry Bates. The screenplay provided a moral commentary about the ongoing arms race and featured an alien visitor with Christ like qualities who delivers an apocalyptic message. Veteran director Robert Wise was brought in head the project and a fine cast of established characters actors such as Michael Rennie, Patricia Neal Hugh Marlowe and Sam Jaffe was assembled. The finished movie has proven to be one of the greatest science fiction movies ever; it is The Day the Earth Stood Still made in 1951.
King Solomon’s Mines is a 1985 Cannon Films production based on the pulp works of H. Rider Haggard. It was quickly made to cash in on the ongoing success of Indiana Jones franchise, although the finished movie bears little resemblance to the classic original novel. Like most Cannon movies from that boom era, it was a cheap and fast enterprise that superficially sported a good cast, but ultimately didn’t do much with them. Veteran director J. Lee Thompson favoured a light and comic approach to the material, as the film’s budget could hardly sustain any major notable set pieces. Yet, it proved popular enough at the box office to warrant a sequel the following year. Allan Quatermain and the Lost City of Gold proved to be as equally silly but by then the public’s interest had waned.
A ten months ago, I wrote about the LOTRO soundtrack and listed some of my favourite tracks. This time round rather than just limit myself to music from one game, I thought it may be more interesting to broaden the remit. So, I have decided to upload seven of my favourite tracks and music cues from various games I have played over the last two decades. As with cinema, the soundtrack of a game plays a very important role. It can make a substantial impact on the players perceptions and enjoyment. The following tracks are examples that I feel have greatly enhanced a game. They’re also ones that I find particularly enjoyable. They are not in any order of preference.
Paul Verhoeven has seldom made a movie without some semblance of controversy associated with it, and his 1992 neo-noir Basic Instinct was no different. Even before its US release, Basic Instinct courted controversy due over its overt sexuality and graphic depiction of violence. It was strongly opposed by gay rights activists, who criticised the film's depiction of homosexual relationships and the portrayal of a bisexual woman as a homocidal narcissistic psychopath. The opening murder with an icepick is still shocking twenty six years later and is an excellent showcase for makeup FX artists Rob Bottin.
You can write pages on Gerry Anderson's 1968 Supermarionation series Joe 90. There's the morally ambiguous premise of giving an emotionally immature nine-year-old the experiences of an adult. Then the psychological effects of allowing him to kill at will. Then there's the perennial issue of scientists prostituting their skills to the intelligence community. One can also reflect upon the absence of any major female characters in the series and how that may impact upon Joe himself. Finally, when one finally arrives she's a gold-digging bitch who tries to exploit Joe’s Dad, Professor McClaine. Joe 90 is certainly a psychiatrist’s dream subject.
Despite the popularity of the TV show in 1965, the two spinoff Thunderbirds feature films were both box offices failures. This has often been attributed to the indifferently written screenplays that seem to have completely missed the sense of suspense that the fifty-minute episodes achieved. Both feature films feel rather slow and like extended episodes rather than big budget extravaganzas. They fail to do anything different with established characters and apart from showcasing more extensive miniature effects in a widescreen format, don’t really have much more to offer. It’s curious that the winning, character driven formula that worked on television was overlooked for these big screen outings.
I grew up during the seventies when network TV shows still put a lot of thought and effort into such things as their theme tune. It was a decade littered with memorable tracks that captured the essence of the shows they came from. Many have now become integral aspects of popular culture, leading to countless internet memes as well as becoming the ringtones of choice for many a fortysomething. However, things are very different now. You can have a staggeringly good theme for your show, but it can't possibly be longer than thirty seconds. And don’t think for a moment that viewers can listen to it again at the end, as it has now become standard practice to compress the credits into a third of the TV screen and preview what's coming next, while some link announcer spouts inanities. Mercifully, cable and streaming companies tend to treat their TV shows with greater respect. The lack of commercial advertising ensures a longer program duration and hence more focus on a theme tune. However, network TV still commands big audiences, yet hasn’t in recent years produced any TV show themes of note.
The Planet of the Apes movie franchise took a radical change of course with its third entry in the series. The first two films were set in the future and benefited from high production values to help realise a post apocalyptic earth. However, due to a substantial reduction of budget, Escape from the Planet of the Apes uses a time travel plot device to bring the ape protagonists to present day Los Angeles (1971 in this case). The result is a film with a much smaller narrative scope. However, although it lacks the science fiction spectacle of its predecessors, it features an interesting satirical exploration of celebrity culture and ponders what it is like to be deemed an enemy of the state. As ever, Roddy McDowell and Kim Hunter provide exceptional lead performances as the Chimpanzees Cornelius and Zira. Escape from the Planet of the Apes also captures the pop culture vibe of seventies America.